At sa pagtatapos ng Buwan ng Wika, ito ang isang tulang inaalay ko sa kanya -- ang natatangi -- na nagbigay kulay at nagpasaya sa buhay kong dati ay magkahalong maputlang abo at puti.
Mahal,
Habang binibigkas ng mapupula mong labi
ang mga katagang --- Mahal Kita
pansinin ang paglaho ng ulang sing-itim
ng imbornal na barado,
ang paglisan ng kung anumang takot
na nananahan sa pobre kong puso.
Salamat, Mahal,
sapagkat sa iyong pagdating,
iisa na lamang ang kulay ng langit,
ng lahat na nababalutan ng iyong pag-ibig.
Friday, August 31, 2012
Tuesday, August 28, 2012
Thursday, August 16, 2012
On the 66th
Anniversaries. More fun in SGV? Hoom. You be the judge.
The verdict:
Anniversaries. More fun in MarkeTeam.
Cheesy name, I know. Different strokes for different folks. Live and let live. Walang basagan ng trip.
Defensive, aren't we?
Interesting occurences:
Conclusion:
We are camwhores. No two ways about it.
The verdict:
Anniversaries. More fun in MarkeTeam.
Cheesy name, I know. Different strokes for different folks. Live and let live. Walang basagan ng trip.
Defensive, aren't we?
Interesting occurences:
- Someone wore the exact same outfit as mine. Alas, I wasn't able to have my photo taken with her a la Us Magazine's 'Who wore it best?' I am a shod I know. And no, I am not claiming I wore it best. This little devil inside me is nodding her coconut like crazy though, arrogant bitch that she is.
- My immediate boss has gotten himself into a major funk months prior, thinking he wasn't getting promoted. Surprise, surprise! He did get promoted. Funny how we found out a mere couple of hours before the event. Someone did a little jiggy.
- I might've drowned myself in coke and rum, and maybe a couple glasses of vodka. Truth be told, a girl's gotta party! Ergo: The system has been in dire need of alcohol as I have been a pretty good (read: sober) girl for months now. Har dee har har.
Conclusion:
We are camwhores. No two ways about it.
Friday, August 10, 2012
Kambyo
Diretso't sigurado ang mga hakbang mo.
Walang takot, kahit aminadong masikip
pa rin ang pasilyo ng puso ko.
Lakad lang, Mahal,
pasikut-sikot man ang mga daanang ito
at walang nakakaalam sa maaaring
maging hantungan nito.
Pero nandito ka na rin
at narito din ako.
Pakiusap, huwag ka munang lumayo,
huwag munang kumambiyo.
---
Naks.
Thursday, August 9, 2012
Bagong Kabanata
Bago pa muling dumilim,
aking lilisanin ang lubak-lubak
na daan at lusak ng iyong alaala
patungo sa kung saan
Siya naghihintay,
siya na may dala-dalang liwanag.
May kung anong saya
ang sumalubong
sa aming banggaan
kung saan magsisimula
ang panibagong kabanata.
Sabay lalanghapin
ang mga bahaging bagong buklat
upang matuklasan ang muling salaysay
sa kasaysayan ng bawat
tibok ng pusong
tahimik na nakadiin
sa kasalukuyang pahina.
Bagamat walang masabi
hindi mapigil ang panalanging
Mahal, sana ikaw na nga.
---
And you thought I had nothing for you.
To she who makes me smile a lot, a lot.
aking lilisanin ang lubak-lubak
na daan at lusak ng iyong alaala
patungo sa kung saan
Siya naghihintay,
siya na may dala-dalang liwanag.
May kung anong saya
ang sumalubong
sa aming banggaan
kung saan magsisimula
ang panibagong kabanata.
Sabay lalanghapin
ang mga bahaging bagong buklat
upang matuklasan ang muling salaysay
sa kasaysayan ng bawat
tibok ng pusong
tahimik na nakadiin
sa kasalukuyang pahina.
Bagamat walang masabi
hindi mapigil ang panalanging
Mahal, sana ikaw na nga.
---
And you thought I had nothing for you.
To she who makes me smile a lot, a lot.
Task Planner Thoughts
Rewriting to remind me that it gets better.
"April 2, 2012, 6:44 p.m.
Stuck at work and hating every minute of it. I've been enveloped with disappointment all day. I am mostly disappointed at myself, how I let things get the better of me, how I am suffering the effects of how I react to some things, how I let them affect me so much. But truth be told, I am getting by the best I can --- one foot in front of the other. There is no other way. [Insert expletive here], I am too old for this."
In other news:
I owe this blog a poem. Or two. Is it happiness if it takes you away from the things you love to do, i.e., writing? The curious result of this exquisite feeling is that I am bursting with words and images, ingredients for a poem or a painting, but no way to rein them in, no means of capture in the hopes of immortalizing them. Happiness, I guess, is the poem, the story I do not write.
But write I will. There is no way to silence the words. Some stories need to be told. It's just the way it is.
Stay tuned.
"April 2, 2012, 6:44 p.m.
Stuck at work and hating every minute of it. I've been enveloped with disappointment all day. I am mostly disappointed at myself, how I let things get the better of me, how I am suffering the effects of how I react to some things, how I let them affect me so much. But truth be told, I am getting by the best I can --- one foot in front of the other. There is no other way. [Insert expletive here], I am too old for this."
In other news:
I owe this blog a poem. Or two. Is it happiness if it takes you away from the things you love to do, i.e., writing? The curious result of this exquisite feeling is that I am bursting with words and images, ingredients for a poem or a painting, but no way to rein them in, no means of capture in the hopes of immortalizing them. Happiness, I guess, is the poem, the story I do not write.
But write I will. There is no way to silence the words. Some stories need to be told. It's just the way it is.
Stay tuned.
Wednesday, July 25, 2012
I make the rules
"Vanity is becoming a nuisance.
I can see why women give it up, eventually. But I'm not ready for that yet."
You don't have to read this.
There's not much in this except me.
But what the hell --- my blog, my rules.
 |
| Photos courtesy of Wilfred de Vera |
On second thought: Here, have a poem.
Under One Small Star
Wislawa Szymborzka
My apologies to chance for calling it necessity.
My apologies to necessity if I'm mistaken, after all.
Please, don't be angry, happiness, that I take you as my due.
May my dead be patient with the way my memories fade.
My apologies to time for all the world I overlook each second.
My apologies to past loves for thinking that the latest is the first.
Forgive me, distant wars, for bringing flowers home.
Forgive me, open wounds, for pricking my finger.
I apologize for my record of minuets to those who cry from the depths.
I apologize to those who wait in railway stations for being asleep today at five a.m.
Pardon me, hounded hope, for laughing from time to time.
Pardon me, deserts, that I don't rush to you bearing a spoonful of water.
And you, falcon, unchanging year after year, always in the same cage,
your gaze always fixed on the same point in space,
forgive me, even if it turns out you were stuffed.
My apologies to the felled tree for the table's four legs.
My apologies to great questions for small answers.
Truth, please don't pay me much attention.
Dignity, please be magnanimous.
Bear with me, O mystery of existence, as I pluck the occasional thread from your train.
Soul, don't take offense that I've only got you now and then.
My apologies to everything that I can't be everywhere at once.
My apologies to everyone that I can't be each woman and each man.
I know I won't be justified as long as I live,
since I myself stand in my own way.
Don't bear me ill will, speech, that I borrow weighty words,
then labor heavily so that they may seem light.
My apologies to necessity if I'm mistaken, after all.
Please, don't be angry, happiness, that I take you as my due.
May my dead be patient with the way my memories fade.
My apologies to time for all the world I overlook each second.
My apologies to past loves for thinking that the latest is the first.
Forgive me, distant wars, for bringing flowers home.
Forgive me, open wounds, for pricking my finger.
I apologize for my record of minuets to those who cry from the depths.
I apologize to those who wait in railway stations for being asleep today at five a.m.
Pardon me, hounded hope, for laughing from time to time.
Pardon me, deserts, that I don't rush to you bearing a spoonful of water.
And you, falcon, unchanging year after year, always in the same cage,
your gaze always fixed on the same point in space,
forgive me, even if it turns out you were stuffed.
My apologies to the felled tree for the table's four legs.
My apologies to great questions for small answers.
Truth, please don't pay me much attention.
Dignity, please be magnanimous.
Bear with me, O mystery of existence, as I pluck the occasional thread from your train.
Soul, don't take offense that I've only got you now and then.
My apologies to everything that I can't be everywhere at once.
My apologies to everyone that I can't be each woman and each man.
I know I won't be justified as long as I live,
since I myself stand in my own way.
Don't bear me ill will, speech, that I borrow weighty words,
then labor heavily so that they may seem light.
Pa[gta]tapos
madali na para sa atin ang lumayo
sapagkat patapos na ang ating kuwento.
ating bibitawan ang huling alaalang
marahil sadyang walang puwang
sa paraisong hinulma
mula sa pirapirasong puso.
bubuksan ang palad bilang pagtatapos
at hahayaan ang muling paglalakbay
ng mga kapalarang iba-iba ang tangan
sabay papakawalan ang galit kung bakit
sa paglaho ng mga alaala
hindi mabura ang sakit.
---
La tristesse durera toujours.
---
For Belle. Believe me, sometimes one word is all it takes and the poem will write the greatest story. Merci!
sapagkat patapos na ang ating kuwento.
ating bibitawan ang huling alaalang
marahil sadyang walang puwang
sa paraisong hinulma
mula sa pirapirasong puso.
bubuksan ang palad bilang pagtatapos
at hahayaan ang muling paglalakbay
ng mga kapalarang iba-iba ang tangan
sabay papakawalan ang galit kung bakit
sa paglaho ng mga alaala
hindi mabura ang sakit.
---
La tristesse durera toujours.
---
For Belle. Believe me, sometimes one word is all it takes and the poem will write the greatest story. Merci!
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