Tag Archives: Romance

Wings

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A view from Mt. Batulao

So they asked me why I did fall in love with you. I told them about my wonderland, and that moment when I first tried to fly and realized that I don’t have wings. You were there to catch me. You were there to tell me that I don’t need those wings. And I believed you. 

But why does it feel like flying whenever I’m with you? Or why do I know that it’s flying?

 

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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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how can i forget

how can i forget
your smile that enraptures me
and my soul
deep through my bones
those stares that engulf me
into your ocean
and drown me with your mystery
like a dying fish in the estuary
i don’t know where i belong to
my telluric desires roil
like a river
whenever the sound of your voice
merges with the air i breathe
i have loved the wind that touches
your skin as it fondles mine too
the only contact we have
but like the air
who chose to stay on this planet
my love for you endures
unseen or unnoticed
waiting for you to be felt.

 

(Para Kay B.)

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Filed under Love Poems

The First Fall

The winter nights
were colder
without him—
his breath thawing
my frozen heart.
 
I always knew,
that feeling wasn’t
as fleeting
as a summer love—
the shores remembered.
 
Or as momentary
as the spring break—
when I never
knew of heartbreaks.
 
Because when
I first fell in love,
I knew he is
my last.

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February 17, 2014 · 12:00 PM

The One With A Bookmark

I need the coldness of the night to keep you warm,
to remind you that the most beautiful things
are those found in the middle of the night—
when darkness savors light.
 
I need a bookmark so you can always find me
wherever you left me—on the days that your mind
lost the memory of us, on the nights
when the light bulb stopped working.
 
I am the only book standing on your shelf,
and you are the words inside of me.
Lucid and lovely, the words that make up
the story, yet it’s not a love story.
 
Instead, you have your favorite book sitting
on the bedstand. The one with a title—
etched on its hardbark cover. The one with verses
you even memorized. The one with a bookmark.
 
I never envy that book but the story it breathes,
like how you share a pancake and tea on a sunlit morning,
the grinning of people when they see lovebirds kissing—
that familiar smile my face had long forgotten.

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When Breaking Up Means Building The Opaque Wall

The flickering lights on the pavement
The wall narrowing the sidewalks
The springy vines creeping over the wall
The pedestrians waiting for the cab
I do not see them all.

The yelling buses ruling the highway
The song of 90s being played on the bus
The cries of passengers shoving and whining
The song inside the bus that never stops
I do not hear them all.

His touch, the stern of his grip
The tickle the tip of his finger can bring
The softness of his lips gently brushing mine
His whirring breath that made me feel alive
I could still feel them. All of it.

He is the ghost inside my head
I am his faint shadow, weaker than a withered grass.
If love is just another photograph on an album
Of sad and enduring memories
I’d rather burn it; but love is not.

Love is pensive. One day you’ll wake up
Seeing him the happiest person on earth
The big smile on his face will alienate you
From the window, you will want to touch him
But all you have is the plate glass between you.

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Filed under Love Poems

The Nightmare

I had a dream last night,
It was you and me together.
You held me tight and you
never kept me out of sight.
And then I saw the light.
I had to wake up chasing
your shadow; your radiant
smile that wasn’t for me
cut me slowly
like a dull knife
which kept me bleeding.

I felt the heaven’s crying.

I had my yellow umbrella
And then she came
soaked by the rain.
You loved the rain.
I hated my umbrella,
I hated the rain,
I hated her, I hated you.
Sometimes, hating is
easier than loving.

(for bng)

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Filed under Love Poems