Books of the Light

temples, pyramids and palaces 
were torn and rebuilt
again and again for centuries
edifices attuned to the compass
it stood waiting for the sun
when its light fully illuminate
observatory's small opening radiate.
on that wall where symbols
are encrypted and heart's parables
are divine, silent prayers
of quiet leaders always,
always, 
defining their relation to the
universe and the sun.

Requiem For Your Guns

you are washing your
hands with their bloods
gargling the souls of
this woman, children and men.
you are devil, evil incarnate
of that region
who mistake the flesh
of innocents like salted brown fishes,
dried under the sun.
you exalted your power
like the legion of death
treating defenseless and
poor people as grains of your armaments.
the cockroaches and earthworms of greed
ate your guts laid on the forlorn symphony
of your lust for money, for gold,
for silver, for iron, for copper,
for money, for money, for money,
for money you son-of-a-gun.
oh forsaken people,
bathe in lies and powdered of
violent resolutions,
basking on this man
who asked bullets,
arms, bullets, arms.
all for money, for money, for money,
for money you son-of-a-gun!
the lullaby is now dead,
blood wrapped your hands,
and you call this corporate rights,
you son-of-a-gun.
the bells of the churches
spilt red tears, sobbing, looking at
your hands, guiltless, soulless,
heartless, honorless, you-son-of-a-gun.
thrive oh, forsaken souls.
go to these monsters who trapped
your lives in a deathly symphony
of their armory.
rouse them, wake them, sing to them
your woes, pain and wounds.
heave to them your screams;
sing the hymn of justice to their eyes
until they'd gasp same, last painful sigh.
fill their cups of your blood, 
remind them how they buried their guns
to your flesh and mind.
rouse them, wake them,
stay with them until they'd feel
if these blood poured
out from the veins of their wives, daughters and sons.
until they'd feel their cruelty
what an uncaring, bloodless arms,
oh heavens, like salted fish
dried under the sun.

But, if.

If fireflies are my drones,
They’d flip and sparkle lights around.
You’d like surrounded by darkness' psalm.
But darling, I am not a firefly.

If butterflies are my lips,
They’d hover and nip your thoughts.
I would be drunk of dreams untold.
But sweetheart, I am not a butterfly.

If eagles are my wings,
I could have flown back on your arms.
We’d watch together the world on your palm.
But beloved, I am not an eagle.

Forever, the meadows will be green.
The oceans will be blue.
The depth of this love's chasm,
Unbounded, tireless, quiet shadow.

The Sign.

On board the bus, eyes romanced the green
My thoughts conflicted with innocence;
Tonight I forced myself to recall.
What was there to see? To hear? To know?

The wall was white, whiten by translucent light.
The floor contrasted my long, dark hair.
The room flocked by crowd; mostly male.
The bearded traveller ushered me; this is you.

And I look at your hand, extended open palm, true.

Touched its softness; I stared at your dark lashes.
Your hair was then dark, darkened more by white shirt.
I nod, shyly smiled, that face, I listened last or first.

Beyond the rows of males I sat and write.
All of them were talking; I searched which bright.
You talked, passionate, fast, and I... silent.

Discussion was done, flipped the pen.
Rose and rushed out of door, serene.

The traveller asked, “where to? wait no more?”
Yup, thanks, I said. At the city, I wandered.
I bade the traveler adieu, unyielding, as fast as that,
Without a glimpse of you; that listening was the last.

The Unfaithful.

i have no faith to leadership
whose logic is in contradiction.
they are like drunkard,
feet crisscrossed at the streets.
posing danger to innocent persons.
creating vulnerabilities to sons
when things has just begun.

where were you when
everyone was talking?
at the galaxy watching the hole?
sublimated your self with
the fading stars, closing light.
sat on the moon,
confused of your tune.

where were you after
you thumbed out discord?
raising alarm on fund
unable to accountably stand
lured by monies and guns
acted like king of warlords
everything was in a fraud
you unchanged the world.

where were you
after those promises?
did your promises chased you?
reverted, failed reform
chanting your songs
you've not reformed
oh, no. sad norms.

Bored

don't be bored, it will eat you.
your psyche dies; your heart bleeds
your eyes shuts and your blood clots

think that you're kissed
think that you're loved
think that the world is round
and hands beg you to be sound

life is real and it is fine
just make a wide smile
think you're just a kiss-far in a little while

Geneboyd

capturing Jolo's sunset is apolitical
Shot that tangerine sunset, gal.
but someone unjustly shot your head,
you wallow in blood; colored sun red.
there you were with your blood
all Mindanaoan journalists were sad
Grieve, grieve, grieve, and grieve.
Sun's tears outpour in your grave.
That was months and months ago...
In my dreams you formally bade adieu!
Tonight, my eyes raised candle and pen
Just as star twinkles the memory of you.