mind's a mess
You are a society
each piece of you exists separately
in different places
and the struggle is to contain them all
in one body.
but like some societies,
you crumble
in dissimilarities; in polarities, in opposing thoughts—
you collapse from the inside,
from the treason of your own people
you are a society,
a civilization that sees no future
except a summer of bones and debris,
and all other casualties
you are a society,
the one history writes about
merely a lesson
—nl
I have ransacked every cramped corner
to search for mementos
scouring for echoes of endearments
permeating the hallways, conserved portraits
hung feebly above the window that never met
the sun
But the spaces around have morphed
into a strange cavern, an act of desolation
like Adam thrown out of Eden
Or Lucifer, angels forbid— paradise became hell
The gold rings have turned into coals
letters ripped by time, chains and lockets
swept by dust devils marching through
the cracks on the walls
(were they always there?)
As though the place was forsaken
for centuries, from dusks to morning
memories of last words don’t lean back
and books torn inside out; they never lie
They haunt around, like restless ghouls
hunting for the broken promises
waiting at every nook, waiting forever
Waiting like fools
featured image by: tristan hollingsworth
Rise, with the sunrise
recoil with the thief’s lies
No more rage and cries,
no murder and heist.
Maybe we are like
a sea of stars afloat in space
that, when together,
form constellations.
Maybe, like celestial bodies,
that’s how we connect.
We just find ourselves
gravitating to each other,
—sweeping through
the interstellar void.
You learned to be appalled at the sight of blood coming out between your legs.
You learned to fear your groin, because touching it felt like a sin.
You learned to measure your breast size, wishing you had more.
You learned to shave your body hair because they look gross.
You learned to use soaps that bleach your skin, until it turns red.
You learned to put on make up and conceal every spots on your face that you hate.
You learned to grow resentful of your own reflection in the mirror.
You learned to despise your naked body.
Yet, you knew you were more than your body. You weren’t born into this world anguished at the glimpse of your natural form.
They taught you otherwise. They taught you to hate.
They taught you to wish you weren’t a woman.
But you are, and it’s time to unlearn that hate.
(artwork from: Alyssa Joyce Sevilla)
Your love, my haven
where stars align
and night’s a raven
Gently, give a kiss
where love abides
and life’s a bliss
(For V.)
thoughts fleeting away
swept by the wind
an image swayed
a memory sinned
eyes drooped, all drowsy
she trudges on the street
with single stemmed roses
tucked in her little palms
forget the stench reeking
from the creek on her side
forget the mud smeared
on her ragged slippers
she keeps the roses
shielded in her chest
as she tries to count
the church pinnacles
on Sundays,
she’d sell Sampaguita
but tonight, a Valentine’s night
she has roses to sell
as she was told
that women like roses
yet, she never liked it
nor any flower
devoid of roots
the bell finally struck
and she dashes to the gate
as though she was a child
fleeing to her mother’s bosom
her little body wades against
waves of people storming out
their noise faints
the cracks in her voice
as she recites her lines
bili na po kayo
Six more stems wilt in her grasp
six more steps from the road,
she pleads
longing for home
———————————
Note: This poem is dedicated to the little girls, left alone and hungered on the streets, selling red roses on the night of Valentine’s a few years ago; may these words shed light to the irony and dismaying reality that is this life.
Tonight, the light dims
as the shots pour
like rainwater dripping
from a broken roof
Tonight, we drown
in burning tequila
–salt on the lips,
like a filthy kiss
Tonight, the spirits spill
from our mouth
like euphoria fading
when midnight comes
Tonight, we drink
and waste away
so tomorrow,
we live again
“Calm down!”
they said
but they do not see
the fingers
trembling behind you
they do not hear
the growling
in your beating pulses
they do not feel
the thumps
on your withered chest
they do not smell
the terror
in the smile you feigned
and they do not know
the ruins
and the nightmares
that befall you
and chain your mind
MESSYPENS 