Tag Archive: literature


The wind machine drones off into a lullaby
and my weary eyes have met the force of gravity.

Your image is projected on my eyelids

and my mind knows it will find no sleep.

You ask me why i never lay beside you,
why i never lie at all.

And i know you know it’s for fear of dreaming,
because awake we do live on.

I crave your every meaningless expression–
The affected effort to touch my heart.

The words uttered with
meaning escaping,

and leaving the nasal baritone as proof.

You do have eyes for me.

And your mouth and feet,
they seem to follow.

Never your hands.

And never my eyes.

You stand ever so close,
Fists clenched.
And i stay
Eyes unflinched.


Natupad lahat ng gusto mo.

Maraming salamat Jo.

Mahal kita palagi


ni Joren Reysoma

Gusto kong maging
Lapis sa pagitan ng yong mga daliri
Kapag sumusulat ka ng tula
Na puno ng dalamhati

Gusto kong maging
Tasa ng kapeng dumadampi
sa yong mga labi
O alak na gumuguhit
Sa yong lalamunan

Gusto kong maging
Paborito mong awitin
Kulay, laro, salita
at gawin

Gusto kong maging
Liwanag sa yong mga mata
kapag ikay tumatawa
At maging dahilan ng pagtibok ng yong puso

Nais kong maging
Lupa na iyong lalakaran
Hangin na iyong lalanghapin
Salitang iyong bibigkasin

Nais kong maging
Araw sa yong himpapawid
Buwan at bituin
Upang masundan ko ang yong bawat galaw

At kung ikay mahihiga
Gusto kong maging
malambot na kumot
Na ibabalot mo sa iyong katawan
Maging unan na iyong hahalikan

Ang huling bagay
na papasok sa yong isipan
Ang huling salita na
iyong bibitawan

Gusto kong maging
Tagahabi ng yong panaginip
Maging musa mo, maging kanta mo
Maging pangarap mo
Maging alaala mo

Gusto kong mabuhay
Sa loob ng yong isipan
At syang pupuno sa yong puso
Ng init at pagmamahal.

Ang Paraan Patungo sa Aking Puso

Ang paraan patungo sa aking puso
Ay madali.
Nagsisimula ito sa isang hakbang
Hinihila ito ng bigat,
Di gaya ng dinudulot ng mundo
Sa patak ng ulan,
Kundi ng sabaw
Sa kumakalam na tiyan.
Walang hinihintay na atang
Ang aking pag-ibig.
Bagkus, nabubuhay ito
Sa kahungkagan,
Sa iyong waring di-pagpansin,
Sa iyong pagsasawalang-bahala.
Ang damdamin ko’y di rosas
Na malamyos,
Na bumubukadkad
Sa pagtatalik ng hamog at sinag-araw.
Ito’y isang damong-ligaw
Na kusang umuusbong,


Ang paraan patungo sa aking puso
Ay madali.
Ang paraan palayo
Ang may kahirapan.


inspired by bjork


The blanket of Night.

I am caught in self-embrace.

Wonder where you are?




In the interstices of each word
And here between the lines,
In the creases where sages paint
(Where we lie in wait),

This is our world-
Stained with punctuation,
In the split-second decision between
Pausing or continuing.

We saunter and are surrounded
By flowery words.
Us: in the synapse of each thought,
With sense or wont.

We shall witness victory or failure-
The syncopation of listening and speaking-
In silence, like the spaces between:


This is a translation of the Filipino Poem “Puwang”

For Thursday Poets’ Rally Week 25

To Judy

We’re at the point where
I wake up in the
Morn and know
Exactly where you are,
Which turns a great glowing
In my head that says

Judy,credits to:http://rookery.s3.amazonaws.com/864500/864835_2415_625x1000.jpg
You must know that I love you.
No less than I loved you
When I first met you.

The days roll by and every one
Of them is squeezing more
And more of this that
I used to have enough
of for you.
But I can only make so much
Love in one day.

When did your warmth
Turn to heat?
Or when did I start
Craving the cold?
We’re getting old

Is getting old.

Why do you never do
What they do on TV?
Liberate yourself.

Is it not enough to say
That we were happy?
We were happy.
We’re not happy,
It’s enough to say.

Your words are all over breakfast
Are all over the kitchen table
Are all over the floor
Like the dust
That’s blowing into
That open door.

It’s stirring the threads
Of steam on the coffee.
Wake up Judy!

“Breakfast was lovely, Judy.”
Now give me a kiss goodbye
And ask me what I want for supper.



Whether the path
Paved and light?
Whether the status quo
With dimmed delight?
Whether the bed
That is warm
But vacant?

To walk,
Where jagged craggs abound?
To be,
Where certainty can’t be found?
To sleep,
Upon a rock
Laid with chance?

The stage is set
Miss Havisham,
The heart has flamed
And dimmed the forge
That blackened my face.

A seed of ambition-
A better than-
My mind was tamed
And so engorged
With want that won’t erase.

Between the difference
Of need and want;
Between the height of ambition
And being arrogant;
Between the distance
Of a dream
From covetousness.

The vanity in possession.
The baseless assumption.
To what is deserved
From wanton excess.

The chain’s been filed
Mr. Marshman,
The mind has cleared
And lit the fire
That led my way.

A tree of hope-
A could become-
The heart that feared
Began to aspire
A better day.

check out other One Shot Poets here



The clacking of the keys make
The fires of my guilt flare.
I should be working,
I should be doing what the man told me to do.
These letters are for the discontent.
These lines are for the numbers,
For the unpaid hours,
For the useless favors,
The wait,
The suffering,
The dimwit succeeding,
The ass-kissing.

I am talking to you, silly boy.
“What do we do about this?”
Really means
“Do your job, moron.”


The proverbial man
In a leather catsuit
And fur-lined cuffs
Whippit good.

I suckle the sweaty balls
Of the bureaucrat
Jizz is sustenance

I close my eyes,
“It’s a delicacy-

Ball sweat

And bullshit.”

Spread your cheeks

The ashes of my guilt
Bore the phoenix of my wrath

I shouldn’t be scribbling

My pen is

A middle finger

Up your ass.

check out other One Shot Poets here

Seeing Mark


Venti Vanilla Tea Latte
White chino

Was it a year?

Was it several lifetimes ago?

You look like you
Didn’t even see me coming.
You avoided my gaze,
I weighed the weight
Of sadness you’re bearing.

Grande Coffee Jelly
Black shirt

It was a year.

It was several lifetimes ago.

You weren’t you
The way I see you now.
The one I let slip away,
I try to keep the welling
Air of possibility at bay.

So what’ve you been up to?
How are you doing now?

I fill each awkward gap
With stupid questions
Preludes to answers
I didn’t care to know.

They were set in place,
Like the foam on your latte,
To add interest
To the real question lying beneath.

I stroke the back of your hand
I see you struggle not to tense it.
Pretending everything was fine
Pretending you weren’t cringing
On anticipated pain.

Do you hate me?

Folding the dollup of cream
Into my drink.

No hate,
You whispered
To the frothy crown,
Only hurt.

(Insert stupid question)

(Insert vacant answer)

I’ll walk you to work

We get up
And you walk right next to me
I hold on to your arm.

We leave our drinks,




I rode a swing
I haven’t been
On such a thing
Since I was little
When sadness
Was brittle
That a short gush
Turned sorrow to mush
As the little seat
Shoved a rush
Of wind upon my face
And set me reeling
Back in place.
Back and forth
On a swing
That’s always moving
But never getting

It will do tonight
To cause a stir
And somehow blur
The rapid whir
Of my racing mind.

When thoughts of you
Came back too,
I rode a swing
To forget you.

I lean back
So the stars are shooting
And catch myself wishing
On each one
That when I get off
With one big hop
You won’t be far behind.