Tula No. Something Something

Kung dati ay kinikilig ako sa tuwing nakakarinig ako ng love song,

Ngayon ay madali akong mainis

Oo, bitter ako, pero hindi maikakailang nasasaktan rin kasi ako.

 

Ang sakit-sakit.

Ang sakit kayang maiwan ng taong mahal mo.

Ang sakit kayang malamang pinapaasa ka lang niya na babalik pa siya sa iyo.

Ang sakit malamang may iba na siya habang naghihintay ka.

Habang hinihintay mo siyang bumalik sa’yo.

Dahil iyon ang sinabi niya,

“Babalik ako.”

Ang sakit ring marinig sa ibang tao na ang laki mong tanga,

Na kasalanan mo pa ang lahat ng nangyayari sa’yo.

Ang sakit malamang kasama niyang naglaho ang mga akala mong kaibigan mo.

Ang sakit masisi sa isang bagay na hindi mo naman ginawa.

Ang sakit masising ikaw ang idinidiin sa kasalanang siya ang nag-umpisa.

Ang sakit maramdamang hindi pantay ang pagtingin ng mundo sa mga taong nasasaktan at naiiwan.

Ang sakit madamang ako na nga ang nasaktan, ako pa ang may kasalanan.

 

Kaya hindi niyo ako masisisi kung hindi ko nais marinig ang mga kantang iyan.

Lalo na siguro ‘yung kay Ed Sheeran.

 

Oo, bitter ako, dahil hindi ko kinakailang nasasaktan ako.

Nadudurog ang aking puso, natutunaw ang aking isipan, nanghihina ang aking katawan.

Sa tuwing maririnig ko ang mga naglipanang kundiman.

 

My (less than) 10-minute poem for the day. Isinulat ko nga pala habang nagpapatugtog sila ng Ed Sheeran song sa “Benshoppe.”

 

 

A Shooting Star

A serendipitous tale once transpired

A lone wolf surrounded by extreme coldness;

A bright shooting star eventually chanced upon.

 

Charred the ice was

When hands held tight

A sudden gush flowed through their eyes

 

‘T’was an unremarkable picture

Of a mysterious wish

Agreed to be with one another

 

“Truly glad I am, to finally meet someone,

So tender and kind, cool in the midst of gloom,

Life’s stiffness unbent by a feathery stroke.”

 

The once lone wolf answered in a blush,

“Though thine fire was brought to soothe

Mine’s bitterness and angst.”

 

Yet, the light the star emanates

Didn’t promise a constant state

Of compassion and hopeful fate.

 

Though the light shines,

The fire engulfs without gaps

Charred not only the ice but the radiance.

 

How such lovely scene turned into dust?

The two hands break, they must

Memories – good and bad – created ash.

 

An inconsolable grief thrashed the night

Full of supposed warmth

From two people breathing almost as one.

 

What if the only way

to forgive such past

Is to get even with the one who passed?

 

Butterfly, Sunflower…

Here is a story of a girl who met a boy

Who gave her all the attention she never sought for.

Eventually, his flattery yielded her butterflies in the stomach;

She thought it would last but the same butterfly broke her heart.

 

He gave her butterfly she never asked,

A butterfly she thought would last;

Yet, as time goes by the story of the butterfly – she realized –

Is but an unending lie.

 

The butterfly boy flew away

Never wishing to return again;

The sunflower girl got her petals fall down like teardrops,

Sunny yellow drops that turned into gloomy black ones.

 

Days passed, months even, another year turned into a tragic past,

She saw the butterfly boy returned;

Still exactly the way he was when the sunflower girl met him;

Enticing, flattering, deceiving but somehow enjoying

A company of a new flower girl he found.

 

With sixteen petals and nine leaves, the new flower girl he found.