HERE I AM

Like the kneeling eyelashes
Of the moon, I
Beg for your smile tonight.

Unfold your chest
And my brightness finds
Your hidden heart.
Don't cover your eyes
With cold feelings-
Look at me down here
And pull me up by the hands.

When will you notice my radiance
Which is your reflection
While I compete with the luster
Of belittling stars?

WONDERFUL DANCE

Like a dance
of quarreling lovers,
you turn your back to me
and start to walk away.

I come after you,
touch your shoulder,
you  push  my hand
to the side
but still, 
I pull you close to me

until your entirety goes inside of me
where you're put back
to fill in my hollow heart.

Then,
we breathe as one.

Let's join the rhythm
of passion:
Let's clasp our hands,
raise them up to the sky;
let's slide, walk and slide again
to the beat of the rain
dropping on the windowpane.

O how sweet is the reconciliation
after being pinched by the cold breeze
caused by teardrops.

O how wonderful it is
to dance
the waltz of quarreling lovers.

MASK

Tonight I shall try again

To pry open the wooden

Trunk I have wrapped

Where I have kept my memory;

I shall spread out

And put it on as mask

One of the smiles neatly folded;

In the deepest recesses

Of my pure heart, I shall search

For wellspring

Of the pulsing that is the fountain

Of the chest and your eyes

Will appear in the middle

Of desire gathering a whirl.

In the morning, before

Your dream snaps to an end,

I shall run after

And relay my poem

That will be recited

By the murmur of leaves

Eavesdropping, this poem

Written in the caress

Of the breeze's page;

You will hear again

The word repeated as pleadings,

This flows with the current

Of my warm endearing

To your feeling

That has gone so cold.

But I know that in every

Stroke of the paddle of love-giving

It remains there that there be no trace

Of the worth of my endearment

Left on the face of the water.

And so I keep on

With journeying once more,

I shall be bold in prying open

The wooden trunk I wrap

Where I keep my memory;

Again, I shall spread out and wear as mask

One of the smiles left folded

Where there are the eyes in full watch

Ever-ready to pop out.

-----------

*This is the  English Version of my Iluko poem, MASKARA, which was published in KALLAUTANG:  Poetics of Diversity, Displacement, and Diaspora: Ilokanos in the Americas Writing by Aurelio S. Agcaoili.

I LEAVE YOU NOW

I feel dizzy of this fast 

revolving 

troubled mind.

I could not stand the sound 

of the wind whistling 

when time passes by me, 

with its oozing glamour; for the redolence
of such adoration 

makes leaves sigh with eyes rolling

of the unpleasant smell of yesterday.

Now, I'm choked 

by the  grip of silence

as I am latched on the decaying fringe

of sprouting sorrow, wrapped with 

our undefined feelings like when 

high and low pressures meet to spark 

a lightning bolt of displeasure

and the sky shouts out loud 

its deafening thunder

as your abhorrence 

to my quiet heart.

But to  think that I would fight back, 

no, for I would droop my head humbly
and turn my back  away.

I know that you won't  hold me
to stay and I will just go

and while I am gone you won't see 

how I shoulder  the boulders 

of detestation which you
asked me to pick up 

as my heavy load
pinning me to a countless fall.

WORDS ON THE MIRROR

*English version of the poem, SURAT ITI SARMING.
_____________________________________________

“Only you,” my index finger wrote

on the foggy wall of the bathroom

while I was washing you off my body.

The strands of water

above my head were warm

but I was freezing

as I watched the words

slowly melting like tears

flowing down towards the drain.

I know, flowers don't blossom for us

unlike they used to and I could no longer

dress February with 

the fragrant garments of May.

In our room, the wind

comes an goes

through the window like a robber

who steals piece by piece the scent

of love we have made.

But the power of the wind and water

couldn't sneak into this heart

and mind to remove your memory

or to let the pages of the calendar fly

with the rest of the beautiful may of February

you left me behind.

PARTING

It is still warm in the strands  of this poem

The flying kiss you blew to me on that day our path

Had to be ripped apart by two roads.

I always feel on my lips, 

On my cheeks,

On the forehead of every  entombed afternoon,

Or on each blossoming dawn,

Its tenderness and aroma 

Which is amalgamated with the breeze.

I have gone too far, maybe as distant 

As you have reached

And if I have to look back to the place where

Our handclasp had loosened, I could 

No longer see the two shadows

Which were pulled apart,

The darkness of this forest swallowed me

And the valleys and hills I passed by 

Have buried the place.

But in my every step and yours,

The memory engulfs me stronger 

And I disclose, 

Your presence keeps smoldering.

To tell you, I used to relate 

You to the beauty of flowers-

From budding to blooming; 

To the flawless and fog-skirted

Mountains or their ears with rainbow rings.

But now, your face, your everything,

The typical skin of creation does not

Have ample figurative panorama to spell you out.

Your substance has gone so deep now,

Deeper than the pots we have accustomed

To make when we were young

By dipping our dirty elbows in the sand

To make hollows, filling them up

With our playfulness and laughters.

Your memento is the only spring

That can reach the eye-sucking bottom

Of this parching  abyss of my heart.

YOU'RE SO SAD TONIGHT

You are  so sad tonight.

Your soaked pillow is your raft

and your bed, as deep and wide as the sea…

Your whimpers

are sucked by the cracks

in the walls of darkness- bent, clamped

till they  gradually fade  unheard…

You are  longing for a spongy song to hear

from angels with wings in the sky,

a song that gently kisses your brow,

your hair,  like how a  wind

softly combs a tangled forest…

But is there anyone who could render you one?

 

Your loneliness is a rough ball in your throat

No matter how hard you swallow it,

It just sticks there like a rolling thunder –

aggravates the rain pouring on your rooftop

or tears dropping on your white blanket…

You are so lonely now, your eyes

like twin crimson suns  falling to a waiting grave;

more lonely than the elegy soon to be read

beside the rectangular wooden home of your being,  

more sorrowful than your life’s video in the eyes of the mourners..

Breathe so deep, my beloved; succumb to thoughts

of this night- you are more desolate than the dirge

that will usher you so dearly to your sepulchre…

 

 

I WILL COUNT THE STARS

although the rest of
my heartbeats
is lesser
than the twinkling
stars
if it’s your will for me
to number them before I could
touch your hand,
then I start tonight
and even under the leaf
of tomorrow’s
sunlight I will peek at any speck
of brightness
that hides like a needle
in a haystack.

why should I resist
if you’re the sole petal flaming
my life?

even when my eyes
will close eternally along with
the roots of some vines framing
my graveyard, still there
will be multitude of uncounted stars
left and that, though accepted,
is why I am crying now
and my tears are heavy rains
er0ding the valleys of my heart..

but don’t you know
that in the chest of every
numbered star,
there, I engraved boldly,

“I love you until here,
this never ending universe, Isabella…”?

the white clouds
caught and enlarged the shadow of
my words,
re-echoed poetically to the seas,
cities and immaculate forests..

if you’ll get up from bed
at dawn,
observe how
gentle are the fingers of the sun
touching the hand
of the grass;
if you still remember me, I
would have done the same way
and the dew clinging to
our bodies give lushness
to our souls until eternity..

CANDLEGRIEF

English Version of the Poem, LIDAY TI KANDELA, published in BANNAWAG MAGAZINE, issue January 26, 2012.

 

On this table for two,

my arms support the weight

of my forehead 

plowing the wooden surface

and this candle before my head

is weeping and the tears,

like a river 

strongly flowing

towards the sea.

 

(Is the salt  my pain

and the tasteless water your feeling?)

 

 

The fading flame is so lonely

but  still  mirroring 

brightly your face,

kissed by the thickening darkness

that drinks your empty chair in front of me..

 

( Did I come as a moth tonight

or am I  really a moth as a powdery residue

of  my sobbing blaze? )

 

I don’t hear any other sound

except that very sweet 

melody of the band

but  oh, how heartbreaking does it bring!

I WISH TO KISS YOUR MOLE

Hereunder is one of my  poems in iluko language published in KALLAUTANG, poetic of diversity, displacement, and diaspora: ilokanos in  the americas writing which was translated in English and with a critical introduction by Aurelio S. Agcaoili, a writer, a poet, and one of the professors in the University of Hawaii.

Iluko Version:

AGKAK KOMA ‘TA SIDING

Kayatko a pinasen nga agkan                                 1

Ta agpammannimid a siding

Iti ngarab dayta a bibig; siding

A kas tumamtammidaw  nga init

Iti agsapa iti ngatuen ti apagukrad

A petalo ti nalabaga a hibiscus

Ngem napaidam dagiti ramay                               2

Ti rabii ta agtukeng a mangilukat

Iti ridaw ni ridep

A nagsampagaan ti minuyongam

Ngem uray no kasta                                             3

Agur-urayak latta

Iti lukib dagiti nakakidem

A matak, umis-isem a mangkepkepkep

Iti agdadagsen nga arapaap

A sika ken siak

Agpapasto iti duayya dagiti singin a giteb

Ti naginnakkub a barukong iti siled

Ti saan nga agpatingga a tagainep.

English Version of the above iluko poem:

I WISH TO KISS YOUR MOLE

I wish to kiss smoothly                                         1

 Your mole that looks out

On the edge of your lip; mole

That is like a sun taking a peek

In the morning on the newly-

Opened petal of the red hibiscus

But the fingers of the night                                   2

Are selfish for they hesitate

To open the door of sleep

Where the orchard bloomed

With flowers

But despite this                                                   3

I will wait in the eyelid

Of my closed eyes

Smiling while holding tight

My pregnant dream

That you and I shall be satiated

By the lullaby of the entwined throbbing

Of chests in an embrace

In the room of an endless sleep.

 

GODDESS

 

 

Go ahead, talk 

to me.

In front of you, I am 

glued by the enchanting

lyrics of your eyes.

Twin eyes, their color 

changes all the time.

They’re wings of a wild butterfly

in February-flapping extracted

scent on my face; making my heart

to twinkle like how a star

magically pounds in the sky.

Even the flowers in this

rainy Manoa or the mimicking 

black mynahs – they pause 

from dancing hula

as they look at you.

 

But, Deity

these lips sealed

when I am with you.

 

On this patch of

grass, I long

to see  my silhouette

sitting down 

passionately beside 

your lone  shadow

with these strong arms 

around you.

ALWAYS

 

 

 

Here I am

to repave the road

leading to

your heart

which develops potholes

every time there is

downpour

of tears

from your eyes.

HONEYED MOON

I wish I could fuse
my breath to your lips,
your respiration
smells like fresh meadows in
this dewy breaking of dawn-
enlivening,

sweet,

invigorating.The tides
are cadences
of my breathing,
peaceful,
endearing
and as a solitary
earth, I feel
your heaving as you revolve
around me,
o  honeyed moon.
My desire is not
epitomized
through serenading maya’s
on rooftops
or waltzing  lovebirds
on branches  of palm trees.
Sent love letters, too
or bouquet
of flowers knocking
your door,
outwit not my way
how I draw closer to you.
But I offer myself to you
tonight-  catch me,
accept me
as a handful of rice
thrown outside the window
as you rise behind
the hawaiian mountains
to fold darkness
of this starless sky.

FIBBER

Desolation howls

From the eerie footsteps 

Of memory;

It wriggles on my skin 

And I am hiding underneath 

This clean sheet of sleep

But oh, nightmares await here,

Sneeringly  smiling at me.

I am avoiding twilight

To knock at my door;

I am running away as it chases

Me with the arrow 

Of bitter past, unleashes it right 

To my heart

And now I slipped 

And I am hanging on

To the brim of my hollowed eyes.

You said before to follow 

Your path,

A road carpeted with flowers 

And soothing grass 

Which you 

Whispered to me  a paradise 

But only to find myself 

Gasping from cascading sobs.

You are a scourge

Rubbing your sullied and itchy skin against

The edges of yesterdays you deceived

After soaking yourself

In your own mud.

 

___________________

*English version of my   first Ilokano Poem , KUSIT, published in Bannawag Magazine, June 9, 2008.