Kinumkom Nga Kalag

Bisan gani sa kahapunon
nawala na kitang duha
wala nay nakakita kanato
nga nagkuptanay ug kamot
samtang ang bughaw
nga kagabhion
natagak sa kalibutan

Nakita ko sa tambuanan
ang nag pista nga sawumsom
sa layong bukid

Sa kinumkom kong kalag
nahinumduman ko ikaw
sa akong kasakit

Asa ka man kaniadto?
Kinsa ang tu-a didto?
Nga nag-ingon, ngano nga ang
kinatibuk-an sa gugma
moabot man sa hinanali
dihang  bati-on ko ang kagu-ol
kon ikaw layo kanako?

Nahulog ang libro nga
kanunay'ng tak-op sa kahapunon
ug ang akong sapot
naglukot nga mura og iro
sa akong tiilan

Sa makanunay , misibog
ka sa kagabhion paingon sa
sawumsom ug gipanas mo
ang mga estatuwa.

--Pablo Neruda

Out of danger's way

silent as the moon 
above the bare trees.
I waited...

approaching daybreak,
the waning moon
is still
persistent

A baby cried
immolated in dream,
I woke up
free from danger

who maneuvered?
I am not sure exactly
when it began

my hope for us
in the end turns
around with the wind

a lamp flickering
from afar
is uncertain

this hesitation-
my heart
may not need
you again.

The Stranger

the moth didn't go close
enough to get burned,
what is written on the wall 
is the embedded norm,
formidable as tsunami

bloodletting as cure
is later abandoned.

the taught half-thruth
must be emptied
to make room for
this new guest

the leeches are relentless,
this desolate stranger
inside wants to die,
in flames to live
a life once more.

Looming loss

after the first rain,
a hint of musty
smell wafted
through the earth's pore

as the grass heaves
a sweet sigh, loudly
she hailed
in complete abandonment

a fire set caused
irreplaceable losses.
he offered words
of old trained-stride

outside the door,
the green grass
starts to wither
and this vacuity creeps
back in again

Fear of flying

A tree is now a speck
from a plane's window.
The landscape
hurriedly shrinks
as we dive into
a dense cloud.

"I wonder if birds
believe in God"

I am a bird with
clipped-wings
tracing this earth's
curvature

without delay,
I turned religious

a 3-line poetry
by Jo-an Otadoy

Enamoured by light
I slowly descend into
My unbecoming

a haiku 

after the storm
the crack on the window ~
matches her smile

Bisaya Haiku

nangiyupos ko
matag karon ug unya ~
hunghong sa hangin

windstorm

Words 
spilled
decadence,
embattled
drafters
slitting
gentry's
sardonic
citation.
Netizens
solaced
derelict,
traumatized
dreadfully,
yelps
sorrow

(" A chain poem is like any ordinary poem. However, every line after the first starts with the last letter of the last word of the line it follows and the last letter of the last word of the last line ends with the first letter of the first word of the first line. There is, thus, no rhyme scheme" ---Ferdinand Quintos)

Saad

Nangluod na ang mga dahon
milabay na ang tingtugnaw,
nalarag na ang mga bulak,
og natapos na ang hulaw
apan mahal ko,
tuho-i nga wa
ko tuyo-a nga masabod
ang imong tiil
sa lapukon kong mga saad
niining tag-ulan

sukwahi sa giingon ni tatay

usahay anaay lami 
anang pagpaduol sa kayo,
kanang igo lang nga dili
kaayo sakit, igo lang
nga maka alibyo
sa kangutngot

ikatandi sa hubag
nga lami kawuton
apan undangon kon
hapit nang modugo

sama sa paglili sa bintana
panahon sa unos
sa pagtilaw sa humba
nga kutob lang sa dila

kanang dili matugkad
nga himaya nga gidildil
sa pagka way alimungahag

a tanka 

outside the window
the longest silent winter
is rage to venture-
as the growing child within
taming the beast in her dreams

Just a myth over coffee

finally alone,
plunged
on the loveseat,
the conversation
at the next table
drowned out
Paul Simon's
"American tune"

I wish I've brought
a book,
but somehow,
I've managed
to tune out
the crystal tones.

I've been telling you,
It is unlikely of me
to want him again

I would have begged
you to want me instead,
but to pursue this
undertaking is
embroiled with
illusion

In that rocky island
somewhere, without him
I have returned
many years back.

now your words
mentored me to
unwhirl this thought.

I completed my coffee
with fingers
mangled by your absence

easy for the couple
at the next table
but not for us

feelings unuttered,
seem faultless
however
this desire kept me
in prison.

abandoned

He knows my name
when words are dragged
in half-hearted desire.
When a rain is just a rain
nothing like a formal
expression of sorrow.
Or a sunlight after the snow storm
does not imitate hope.

Words that elude me,
between the lines of
ragged corners of stones.

This love, being temporal
though at times, whimsical
invokes misery

Through a Keyhole 

unhurried steps
on black ice,
invisible as it is
as slick as the syllables,
I crossed the road
and entered in your sleep,
light-footed as air.
Not listening, I saw
the confabulation;
a brook murmuring
the least mentioned vocables
speaking in tongues in silence.
Behind the hollowed eyes
I am not blind.