More Than Words

You told me you are not good with words

That you could not tell me how much you love me

That you could not frame the right words for me

In the absence of words, your heart speaks

In those few words you utter

In those little acts you show me

Your love cannot be contained with anything

And baby, I love you for that

I love you when you smile at me

You glow like a sunshine

That promises hope and happiness.

I love you when you stare at me

Your stares penetrate to the deepest of my heart

It tells me things only my heart could fathom.

I love you when you hold my hand

The strength of your grip

Tells me not to let you go.

I love you when you hug me close

The gentle touch caresses my soul

And gives me the assurance

Of not being left behind and alone.

I love you when you sing songs to me

It is as if you sing the words

That your mouth cannot directly tell me

Above all these things,

There is one thing that makes my heart melt

I love you when you say those words

I could feel your heart

In that stare

In that smile

As you say, “I love you.”

I love you, baby

More than these words can let you know

And I will never get tired of loving you

February 15, Dumaguete

This is for the lost soul

Broken and alone

Wandering around the earth

Looking for a shelter. 

This is for the different

Unique and alone

Walking with people of all sorts

Looking for a home. 

This is for the forsaken

Left broken and alone

No place to call home

No one to treat as her own.

Scrapbook

Soon.

I’ll forget this moment happened.

I won’t even recall your name.

I can never feel this feeling again.

Soon.

I will wish I have powerful brains.

I will wonder how this day felt like.

I will look back with feeling of naught.

So now…

I will keep these little notes of mine,

these memories of yours,

and this story of ours.

Jude

Poker face

Soulful eyes

Sad smile

Laugh.

Silent mouth

Deep voice

Bright mind

Teach. 

Eyeglasses

White shirt

Boxer shorts

Love. 

The Insomniac

For those sleepless nights

When I stared at the ceiling for hours

Thinking the day over and over

Playing the memories in my mind

Oh, the pain and frustrations!

For those nights,

When I slept with a heavy heart

Wishing
Dreaming
Praying
I could not cry
but my heart was weeping.

No, it was not insomnia
That keeps me awake at night
That makes me feel my loneliness
Every night
On my bed
In my room

It was a boy
A man
Who was once was part of my day
But now haunts me at night.

5-Minute Love

Tiptoe

Pirouette

Chasses

Dance with me dear, with the one you love.

Glide

Skip

Jump

Let’s go somewhere dear, somewhere we like.

Pose

Smile

Bow

It was well but it had to end. 

hi-density by Lourd de Veyra

baby tonight I'm trying to watch television and outside the moon seems to have stopped breathing—a pool of flat radiance and the only image in my mind is that of the black and white Siamese kitty cat tattooed on the small of y our back because I hardly understood the true nature of cats until you silently tiptoed into my life and I entered you with the smoothness of hot knife through butter and smoldering like the tip of a syringe and because the memory of your skin still haunts me burning more savagely than this moon so boring the television appears to hum with more life and baby I am sorry I had met with apathy the concern for your real true Siamese  kitty cat because I am in a state of consciousness that receives neither the eleven o'clock news nor the lunar manifestations of truth and love and whatever strange music it is hanging outside these unreal windows and baby I hope you are not thinking it as the cat you keep between your legs I think about all the time with an Egyptian's impious devotion to bash and baby I hope you are still alive and you too are watching television on this very moment with only the real virtue of moonlight more beautiful than death and imagining what might have happened had you come over to let the feline tattoo curl up cozily on my bed tonight baby now I begin to understand the true nature of absence and hunger in the sudden keening of a cat.

(I found this poem in the book, One Hundred Love Poems by Gemino Abad and Alfred Yuson)

Haze by Fran Ng

We collide on purpose

not our own

leaping

into orange.

Then I am red

and you are yellow

circling

a solitary fever

We make

rings of fire

in dim spaces

stroking time

Where I am red

and you are yellow

and when we meet

We set ourselves on fire.

(Source: One Hundred Love Poems by Gemino Abad and Alfred Yuson)

27 by Nerisa del Carmen Guevara

And by the time I reach 80

I would have fallen in love with

An entire city.          

All the people on the streets

Would follow me down with

A knowing.

All hate gone. All sorrow.

The word absence would not

make sense.

The dinosaurs are still underground;

All the species the eco-warriors were not able to save

Have walked without regret to wastelands they haven't found yet;

Most of the people we love, walking or dead,

Are sometimes in the dust we sweep out on Sundays.

The trees we leave an instant mix,

Just add water

And we are still

Here

Remembering even what we try to forget.

The once loved, the once loving,

The kept, the abandoned,

Finally making sense of it all. 

(Source:  One Hundred Love Poems by Gemino Abad and Alfred Yuson)

The First To Love by Simeon Dumdum Jr.

Always she is a step ahead.

When I think of giving her flowers,

She waylays me with wine-red roses.

And if I get up in the morning,

Pulled out of bed by the idea

Of a long walk across the fields,

She would be there, lacing her shoes,

The coffee, which was on my mind,

Filling up the room with its presence.

But one day, when there was a downpour,

I made sure I would be the first

To suggest that we have a race

In the rain, but she turned me down,

And I saw in her smile that we

Were too old for such recklessness,

But that afternoon, the sun blazed,

And she asked what just then had crossed

My mind, that we both go outside.

The road was a patchwork of water.

I wanted to help her across

A rain puddle, forgetting that

Her legs were longer than mine. 

(Source: One Hundred Love Poems by Gemino Abad and Alfred Yuson)

Seven years later, Driving Home by Justine Camacho

It is impossible to fall in love again

for the first time.

The first blush, the heart quickening,

racing madly with a secret:

these things happen only once.

Yester, in the car,

only half-listening to a song,

I remembered.

And in my mind, I turned around.

If I had known that i would never see you again.

If I had known that afternoon in August,

I would have stayed rooted there.

Watching you.

Nineteen yet and dreamy,

I felt the years deaden me, one by one.

And all the headlamps around me

blurred.

It was so sweet,

even to feel

that wound again.

(Source: One Hundred Love Poems by Gemino Abad and Alfred Yuson)