Before prose, poetry was my companion.
Poem Book Six
The Dark Side of Light
Junior Year, Arts and Letters, 2001
With undulating voice
he speaks in a podium
of unsustained secrecy.
By word of mouth,
all rumours about the
innocent blackboard
travels at the speed of light,
carried by chalkdust into
endless space,
becoming tiny bits of
remembrance scattered
yet linked together by
a bond stronger than
the nuts and bolts
that hold the chairs together.
In a room
whose four walls
speak of partings,
of unshakable bondage
that is meant to shatter
someday.
The crucifix hangs dearly
to the wooden wall
as every vibration produced
resonates an earthly tone
that reminds us of changeable things,
that reminds us of fleeting moments
never to happen again.
I was at the University of Santo Tomas this afternoon to get my transcript of records. Little has changed inside the Main Building: The 30-inch flat screen TV where we used to watch the UAAP Games stays suspended in the ceiling. The wooden imperial staircase going to the museum and the second floor keeps its luster despite the hundreds of footsteps treading its centuries-old planks and the classrooms, though modest by standards are still fed by chilly winds from the AC units.
It's like I never left at all.
Meanwhile, glancing at the kids as they go on with their carefree lives remind me that once, I too enjoyed their bliss.
It's like I never left at all.
Meanwhile, glancing at the kids as they go on with their carefree lives remind me that once, I too enjoyed their bliss.
Hope that in my time, I was able to drink my fill. For a moment in their presence earlier, my soul was parched.