the deal

The emergency room opened into a busy, curving street and the glare of headlights constantly pestered the luckless souls who had to be there that rain-soaked, accident-stricken, disease-riddled night. But that hardly mattered to her, not even the biting cold. There is only the worry. The nagging, dead weight of dread. The maddening wait.

She traces her steps back, several thousand steps back. Tracing how she ended up there, what dastardly deed had she committed to bring on this potential misery. Her son was ill - moaning, groaning, softly sobbing. I can almost hear the bargaining begin.

This for that.
Never again.
From now on.
I start afresh.

All the shabby, ratty things are accounted, then given up till there’s nothing left. I saw it take place though her back was turned, with her feverish son clutching at her shoulders. I saw it on the weary curve of her neck. I saw it written on her mother-in-law’s brow.

Suddenly, it was over. The results had come, the wagering forgotten, and they were gone. I wanted to ask her: were there souls bartered, what loves have you sentenced to oblivion, were there habits sent to their graves? Do you know how inconsequential feels?

Expendable when lines had to be drawn, first to be struck out when the odds are stacked against you.

If these emergency room contracts were ever written down, would your name be on one of them? Several times over? Would you rather you were told that you'd been wagered for a worthy cause? Would you rather not now?

just desserts

No wine dulls the ache. No paradise blots out that face. All the work in the world will not drown the need. Every memory cuts my sleep to shreds. The world appears to have righted itself in accordance to his will, while all the wrongs have been flushed out with me.

Ninang Olet

"Ninang, gutom na ako."
"Bakit dugo daliri mo?" "Nagupit ko e." "Dahan dahan kasi!"
"I love you po."
"Wag ka alis."

With godchildren like these, life's not that bad.

the man

He who taught you to play fair.
He who held you with great care.
He with the great booming voice.
He who always fixed your toys.
He whose lullabies you can still hear.
He whose presence stills your fear.
He who would give you the moon.
He who was taken too soon.

knight in shining

He would not ask it of me but he can take all he wants and ask for anything I can give. Every thread of music left in me for his peace, all my words to fill the stores of his strength. And when I am emptied, every ounce of life that can be eked out of this ungainly frame for the glory of his dream. As he lives on when I am gone, let these pages tell how the sacrifice is worth the man.

pilipinas ko

I love every grain of sand on this land
every leaf of every tree
every child's smile
Beautiful is every curve in every winding road
left of the sea
right of the mountains
Daunting is every highway back to my own abode
welcoming is every mile that takes me away
Every island is my home
every ferry crossing, my lull of silence
Every begging hand is my burden
The fisherfolk, the tribesman, the weathered, weary farmhand
they all own a piece of my soul
The rivers are my guide
the forests, feeders of my wanderlust
I leave for these places not to find what others have found
I leave to lose myself,
in the salty-sweet secrets of this land to which I am bound.

cursed

I've stood amidst a sea of adoration, in a bubble of indifference. A heathen in a church of zealots, for despite the enveloping blare of their worship, these gods cannot hold a candle to your brilliance. Not even the bonds of my childhood can tear your memory away. In every breeze, in every whisper of a song, I am cursed to hear your name. Always, only, ever yours.