Category Archives: Love Poems

Looking At You

I thought it was your leather
Chucks that beguiled me.
But when you smiled
and your braces added a little shine to it,
I found a world where you
and I could touch a star
in the middle of the night
when no one’s watching over us.
And every time I would try to catch one,
you would never let me do it myself.
Instead, you’ll stand on top of the table
so you’ll be taller, and you can snatch
the star for me,
while I’ll be waiting under that table
like a forgotten toy robot
who misses his best friend.
But that only made me realized
one thing—
even if I could stare at you all day
you will always be my distant star.
And sometimes
when you look back at me,
I would only realize how wide our universe is.
Like how our eyes discover
the faraway sun,
and how we feel its warmness
as it kisses our skins
even if it’s a thousand
miles away from us
I would still choose
to look at you.
I know that I can’t always choose
chocolates over heartaches
But I will never be afraid to touch
a star even if I know that someday
it might just explode and lose
every little things
I love about it
Until everyone forgets
that there was once
a shining star like you.
And there was once
a lone stargazer like me
who will never forget the
dreams I had whenever
I’m looking at you.

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sunday

sunday when I first
saw her hiding in your arms,
i hid on my own.

 

At Mt. Maynoba, Rizal (Philippines)

 

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Until Tonight

image

From Mt. Pinatubo


I have until tonight to forget
about you. About the mountain
we both love. We both know
that this day is going to end
like an empty cup of coffee
with no lip print. With no memory.
Of you and me. But please,
let me love you until tonight.

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wet dream

in your soppy world,
i want to be the wave who touches
the shoreline. 

Taal Lake

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Broken Hearts

You’d surprised me
with your heartbreak poems.
I felt the pain in every
shouting words
you strung
so tightly
for they can’t breathe.
Perhaps, it’s killing them.
But they made me feel alive
inside.
I dreamt of seeing you again
at your favorite coffee shop
and you would start gazing at me.
I’ll put down the book I’m reading.
You’ll probably order me a cup of coffee
that would sit on our table for hours—
because it’ll enjoy our sad stories.
We’ll talk about your mushy poems.
I’ll listen very carefully
like I really care about your heartache.
You can cry on my shoulder
and I’ll remember those forlorn days
when I cried for you.
I’ll probably ask you
why did you let her break your heart
when there is someone
right beside you
who’d always wanted
to take good care of it.
But that cup of coffee is not real.
Even the coffee shop doesn’t exist
like your love for me.

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For My October and Forever

This morning of September
When I woke up
I felt the crisp of the wind
Touching my toes and my face
For they are naked
And they longed to be touched
I don’t know where you’ve been
Last night
Or how many necks you’d tickled
With your rough-hewn stubble
With your soft lies
I had let you entered the walls
Of my room
Just because you always knew
You’re invited
To disrobe my innocence
To let me feel the world
In your selfish point of view
And when I threw my blanket 

On the floor
Which of course
You would never notice
I was ready to see the world
I was ready to fly with you
Then suddenly you fumbled
toward the window
Without me
It felt colder
As rapid as the breeze
In a stormy morn
I fell in love
And you fell out of love
That easy
I gave my everything to you
That easy
And it felt like some parts of me
Are missing
As if you would carry them with you
But I couldn’t follow you
Because you left me with nothing on
You left me waiting
And waiting
and waiting
It felt like forever
Waiting
For that someone
Who’ll dress me up
Before showing me the world
But I’ll still be waiting.

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The Stare

 

A view from BenCab Museum, Baguio City

 
When you look at me
I don’t want you to see
how black my eyeballs are
or how many pores
I have on my cheeks.
I want you to see a virescent field
blooming with yellow flowers
under the cerulean sky
where kids can romp around
even when the rain
enjoys pouring.
I want you to see a house
built on that meadow
with a wooden deck
where you can read poetry
while true sparrows can have
their nests on the roof.
And when you look at me deeper
and deeper
I want you to see me
inside that house
while I’m in the room
staring back at you.

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