But an image, of you in your kitchen in Manila, cooking up a storm for me and Ryan while there’s an actual storm brewing outside. It was our exams and the flood was already up to our thighs but we know it was worth it to commute to your place just to be able to taste your exquisite cooking and because you insisted.
Continue reading Because Words Are Not ComingCategory: Poetry
The Passenger
His feet hardly reaches the floor
as he sits buckled up
gazing quietly out at the
windshield where he can see
the cars but not their tires
On Flying During A Super Typhoon
Our bags are packed
Our luggage too
We only have
One thing to do
Mount Kanlaon
Here in Negros
We don’t have much high-rises
Our buildings don’t look
Like they could even touch the sky
Desert Rose
A flower so common
A flower so wild
Yet so very special
When held by a child
Who smiles and says
This is for you
You made my day
I love you too
So although this flower
Can’t compare to a rose
I would still prefer one
To a hundred of those
Sunset
The world has never been more clear
As when the sun is about to set
It basks all things in a crystalline glow
Just in case we might forget
The dewy grass, the silhouette
Of things gone by
Of things not yet
Land of Sugarcane
I live in the land of Sugarcane
Of cinnamon and cream
I live in a land where chocolate
Recalls a lovely dream
I wake in the land of Sugarcane
And everywhere there’s cheese
Where Feta, Brie and Emmental
And Gouda’s sure to please
Old Swing Set
It is faded now
For it is only made of plastic
that cannot withstand the sun’s rays
bearing down on it day after day
It stands shabby among the grass,
a remnant of days past