MM

the good night; the good morning

Grand Hotel

8" x 10"

Sumingaw ang matalim na putok mula sa kalye.

Sumigaw ng tatlong beses ang basyon ng bala

nang halikan ito ng konkreto. May tumakbo palayo.

Dinumog ng miron ang katawan,

sinisipsip ang nobedad ng exesna.

Para silang langaw.

Sa di kalayuan ay pinagmamasdan ko sila.

Isa-isang nagtakipan ng bumbunan kasabay ng pagkarandam

ko ang patak ng tubig sa balat.

Sumilong ang mga nasa kalsada.

Ako'y napatingala sa pagbigat ng mga patak.

Nagmukang bala ang ulan, walang tunog,

ngunit walang tigil ang putok. Walang pinipili,

tila walang pinanggagalingan.

Magpapakita na lang kapag tatama.

Dalawa nalang kami sa ilalim ng kalangitan.

Siya, ang bankay na may butas sa noo at biyak

ang likuran ng ulo -- linulusaw ng ulan ang kanyang dugo.

Mirror

14" x 16"

Old Friend

Acrylic on Canvas

i don't want to be a story, soullessly lurking in abstract spaces, a restless empty shell gleaming in opacity with a hunger to be filled. but with what? and for what?

insincerity again. the capacity to tell is the tolerance to tell falsely. a man who lies to do good is a good man. need more be questioned? good, sadly, is the blind judge of what is true.

i do not speak of being true to others. i will lie to you, and i am good at it. i am aware of my false words, and i believe in them.

i am tired of telling. i will lock my tales in a box and keep it within myself. it is mine and i will read it only to myself. no one will not know of it.

i am an experience, temporary and human. my page: so filled with vacancy, no words dare lay themselves. you will have nothing to read from me. i will be just a gleaming thin sheet of ambiguous blankness and possibility, unmeasurable in a measured form. there will be no abstract thing to fill me. there will be no abstractions at all.

words can be lousy couriers. words can be loyal messengers.

Drowned Senses

Mixed Media (Acrylic, Charcoal)