Tag Archive: morning


Goodnights


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.

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Cheerio, Boy


The rain pours out of a cardboard box
As I meet my destiny on the breakfast table
A clink-clink-clinking preludes the silent plop
Into a lake of frigid white-
Cheerio, boy.

Outside the sky is dark but tinted with incandescence
As the window slowly steadies from my
Vantage point. Your hair is a-tousle
And your covers are engraved upon your tear-puffed face.
Cheerio, boy.

You were so happy a week ago
You made her breakfast in bed.
While I was stowed away in the cupboard-
The wretched smell of bacon and toast and guilt.
Cheerio, boy.

Let alone that she labored as she ate.
She said she would have preferred me
And saved you the trouble. But you would have
None of it. You could do better- you were.
Cheerio, boy.

Breakfast forgives all inIdiscretions,
She confided. It was a plainness- or the wait-
The faded incandescence. She whispered
Fantasies to me. She told me she was leaving you.
Cheerio, boy.

I must admit I feared for my life
As you took your rage out on the counter
She looked on with anxiety- or was it fascination?
Which turned to disgust when you apologized.
Cheerio, boy.

It wasn’t plainness. It wasn’t the wait.
(She finally concluded that you were weak.)
The streetlamp exposes your soggy countenance.
The milk has turned lukewarm.
And I, now worthless, remained an untouched
Cheerio, boy

 

To Judy


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

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.

Judy,
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.

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

Judy,
We/Us/This
Is getting old.

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

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

Judy,
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.

Judy,
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.


 

Jade: …I’d definitely want to see you again soon.

Me: I don’t blame you.

Jade: I forgive you.

So this is the upswing. Finally, things started looking up after I settled my finances. I hate to admit it, as I said to Nikki, but money does make you happy. Well, money helps make being happy easier.

Last week spelled an end to the slump that I have been on for a while now. This makes writing difficult so allow me to detail the events prosaically.

I had just finished doing my Performance Review for the first half of the year and boy, have I been working! The form, which didn’t include my manager’s comments was fourteen pages long!!!

On Thursday, I went shopping for something to wear for an interview I was having on Friday. After several hours of going around the mall, I finally found a store that had shoes my size and not juvenile-looking. I got myself a new pair of dark wash jeans which I have been on the search for forever. Say what you want, but Bench jeans are the only jeans that fit me well. I know getting one from Zara or Topman would appeal better to the finnicky tastes of some people I know, but what the heck, I can wear a shirt that I got from the teens section of a department store and make everyone think it’s designer. (I may be exaggerating here)

I broke in my jeans by heading out to Malate by myself. Yes, it was one of those “date-yourself days” that I have from time to time. For effect, I wore a shirt that said “ALONE” in front, and “AGAIN” at the back. It was a very witty shirt and I got it for the rough equivalent of two US dollars, when I went to Bangkok.

I went to a karaoke place I used to go to with the Hasslas (a group of friends I went to Boracay and Puerto with). Since I come here every time I happen to find myself in Malate, the bartender recognized me and cleared a spot for me at the bar. I ordered a cocktail since it wasn’t a beer day and started deliberating if I should pick a song and sing to a group of over-achieving singers.

There were 14 songs in queue, I figured by my turn, I’d be too drunk to care. I downed my drink, picked three songs and ordered another one.

Meanwhile, a guy with slits for eyes was scoping me from a table close to the bar. He looked like an ex of mine who owed me money. I was almost going to ask for it back when I realized that he was Chinese and not Japanese.

He asked me to join his table (he was out with his sister). And I stayed with them until the bar shut down. He was a little drunk and was starting to get argumentative with the cashier. They helped me hail a cab, and right before I got in, Eize (Chinese guy) asked if I wanted to sleep beside him that night. I got in and shut the door right away.

On Friday, I was on time for the interview. It was for a lower post but with a better package. Plus, I get to work with my two best friends and have time to take for a Master’s degree if I wanted. Since the guy who was interviewing me knew me for a long time, the assessment wasn’t so difficult. His only question was, if I really wanted to get that job because there is hardly any upward movement in that company.

See, I set a goal for myself and my career. I told myself that I will become a Manager by the age of 30. I’m going to be 27 in a month. I’m several steps away from that goal if I stay with this company. At the same time, I could pursue a different goal of becoming a Psychologist if I move to the other one.

I received another offer from one of my old bosses who is looking for a supervisor for the company that she is currently country manager of. It’s very promising and I’d really want to explore that as well.

To continue the theme of exploration, I explored the possibility of flinging myself back into the dating scene again (or at least opening myself to the prospect of meeting other people). So last night, I met a guy from UP.

Jade’s first boyfriend is Joel, who is an estranged friend of mine. They were together five or six years ago. He also had a crush on an ex-boyfriend of mine who I lived with for a week.

Cubao Expo at Dusk

He took me to Cubao Expo which is a haven for beatniks, hipsters, hippies, artsy folk and people from UP. In short, this is MY TOWN. I’ve been here before but never with as much people around. People had to queue up before getting in that night because it was “Meiday” and a lot of indie bands were playing.

I bumped into Claren, who I always bump into in very random places (story to follow). And I almost jumped out of my skin seeing that I actually knew someone who was in that sea of people. Claren looked impeccable as usual and was with a guy who looked exactly like him. I introduced him to Jade.

Jade knew a lot of people in Cubao X. So I went around the motions of the “hi’s and hello’s”, “great-to-meet-you’s” and “oh-you-look-familiar-have-we-met-before’s.” He introduced me to one of the finalists from Project Runway Philippines that I had a MAJOR crush on. I didn’t realize it was him at first. I used the third line on him. To be fair, he didn’t mention PRP, I just realized it after Jade brought it up half an hour later.

Now that I think about it, Jade reminded me so much of Jo, my last boyfriend. He was mature, artistic, secure, and not so good looking. I got his jokes and he got mine. We caught each other’s punchlines. He had the same taste in music, the same penchant for judging pretentious people and most glaringly, the same level of touchiness. We would be stopping at several spots around the Cubao X compound and look like a black and white blob. He was all over me. But not in a salacious way.

We were talking about the rain I think when he stole a kiss and walked off to toss his drink down the drain. For a few seconds, I was stunned, caught off-guard. I didn’t know what to make of it. When he came back, I just carried on with the conversation as if nothing happened.

He took me to Future which is the bar below a boutique called the “I Love You Store.” I told him to get me a cocktail and he ordered what would be dubbed as the drink of the week… My Shirota.

My Shirota is a mixture of Korean Soju, Yakult (a fermented milk drink almost every kid I know is addicted to), and Grenadine.

Equals My Shirota

It tasted of every good memory I had as a child. It was very appropriate for the theme of the night. It was sweet and tangy and pink.

After floating around Cubao for several hours we grabbed a bite and decided to sound trip by the curb. It was 3AM and there were blisters the size of nickels on each of my heels (why did I ever not wear socks?) I was so tired but I wanted to float some more. So I decided I’d check into a hotel with Jade.

I asked if he would sleep with me if we slept together. And he told me that he wasn’t sure. I laughed and told him that I didn’t know the answer to that question either.

We slept naked with our arms around each other and we woke up 11 hours later.

We had breakfast and coffee at 4PM and we took the train home after two hours.

I got home and commenced a thirty minute search for my other phone. As I was calling myself and listening intently for the opening verse of Bic Runga’s “Good Morning, Baby,” I pondered on the reasons why the past week was one of the best I had.

Like My Shirota, it was a cocktail blast from the past–a mix of familiar feelings: the satisfaction of a shopping find, the thrill of getting scoped by a stranger, the pride of being sought after by a job instead of the other way around, the excitement of being in the company of beatniks from UP and the tenderness of falling asleep in someone else’s arms.

Seeing Mark


 

Venti Vanilla Tea Latte
White chino
Jeans
sneakers.

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
Jeans
Sneakers

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
Deliberately.
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,

Unfinished.

Morning After


 

Naked:
I pick your clothes
As I sift through the ruble
On the floor
Separating yours from mine
Noting the spot
On the carpet
Tainted wine.
The stench of cigarettes
Invade my mind
With that gaze you made
That beckoned me
The bump and brush
That signalled the beginning
Of all these on the floor
In your bed
In my head
I wish my ease had not misled
You to think
That I would dread
To wake up next to you
Every awkward hour
From today.
I fold your clothes
And stack them neat
While you dream an else
In your deep sleep
I put on mine
Without a peep
And take my leave.
Something else is beginning
With each step I’m taking
This possibility I’m holding
Of us
Of you
Waking
And seeing the magnitude
of my pining,
Stacked at the foot of your bed.
I wish you’d see
That I could be
The one you’re dreaming of
Instead.

Quiapo


 

Ilang kopi†a ng

Pampagana

Pampakipo†

Pampahaba a†

Pampa†ambok

Ang nabibili sa Quiapo bawa†

Linggo?

Ilang kapilya ang mapupuno ng

Mahalay na pelikula,

Mga dibuho ng mga

Adan a† Eba,

San†o’† San†i†a?

Ilang namamana†a

Ang †ikom na

Nagkakas†ahan

Sa loob ng mga mumurahing

Mo†el?

Ilang pu†a ang nebebendisyunan

Ng mapu†i a†

Malansang †amod?

Sabay sambi† ng

“Diyos ko po!”

Sa anino lang ng bahay ng

Nazareno.

Sobrang lapi†

Maaaring lakarin nang

Paluhod.

Ilayo mo po kami sa †ukso a†

Iadya mo kami sa laha† ng masama.

Kaninong awi† ng

Libog

Ang ikinukubli sa alingawngaw ng

Kampana?

Amen,

Amen a†

Amen.

Beans


 

It’s not for the tiny hairs on my nape
That rise to the occassion
Of your touch
That I am moved
By you over the universe that is my bed.

Nor the faint but hurried whisper
Of the ticking clock
(Our time together)
The second second gallops
Like a horse in the clouds-
They should be silent-
But they rumble
Like my heart.

Not the gray sky
At 5AM that ushers the smell
Of the neighbor’s breakfast
When the warmth of your
Sleeping arms begin to gather dew
Against my skin.

Nor the smell of the sun
On your hair when you wake
And realize that you spent the night
Again
Without meaning to–

Because you cannot bear
Deserting me.
Not when I am a naked seed that
Craves the earth of your embrace
That springs in the morning
A two-leafed shoot.

It’s when you wake
And realize that you
Don’t belong here
A seedling grew
Where there shouldn’t be.
You till me
Like the soil strewn
With your clothes across the floor.

The swift imagined pain
I feel when you rip yourself
Off my chest

Mimicking a sting
In my heart.

Surrender


when you caused me to look at myself
and let you see me too,
I told you,
“my tears are beautiful.”
 and suddenly the universe opened
and I was wide awake.

and for a speck of eternity,
i felt you in my arms
like my own skin.
and i knew that i was married to you.

and all that was mine
is now yours.
you have reached through me
and i breathed through you.

your mind sang so loudly
my heart was naked
like Jericho.

and you loved me more.

and I let you.

and i will embrace you
face to face now.
i won’t ward off the days
until you leave
instead welcome you
each time you crash into me.

my heart is not mine now.

do as you please.