Even if the sky is clear blue
with the sun smiling brightly at its window
the grudges of disease had caught me off guard
i was clearing the sky to create my future
but the darkness of this disease had kept me caged
i could not escape , cant even barely move
and my wings grew weaker each day
with no promise of freedom from the aggravating pain and sorrow
of how i triumph for the past year
shall i turn loser now?
i kept a promise
for the sake of this life
that amidst all, shall i remain a victor of that promise!

If fire and ice collide, will it define peace?
And if there would be no villains
will there be heroes?
If all lives forever?
Would there be heaven and hell?

Then why does opposite attract each other?

URBAN

6:00 am
church bell ringing
echoed by the early puto and taho vendor
the wee hour is yet to end
the buzzing of cars and jeepneys
the rushing foot steps on the streets
they make music of the urban world
Mondays to Sundays
All painted with black smoke and red spots
Back to back
children cries, lovers moan, driver and vendors quarrels
heating the day like hell
not an hour will the city rest
24 hours open
bars and fastfood
ready to serve you
the girl in red pops off smoke at the middle of the night
winks to any man he sees
her cleavage popping like pop corns
the men in black walk in and out
with their guns stocked on their waists
frustrated soldiers
this is the life they chose
on the city...

FOOTPRINTS and MEMORIES

..the mud sticks well in my toes, i remember...
the field where we once play
lay asleep under the sun
the green grass that cuts our toes
turns golden, wilting in lush
how the wound that it left
has now turned to fading scars
a remembrance of childhood and first love
bittersweet, indeed
those times, they shall remain
the green field melting in mud during storms
has now turned to dust
sweeped by the boastful wind
leaving not a single footprint.
but the footprint that it left in the hearts
shall remain till the last leaf fall...

Destiny

...as the old pine tree stand in the stillness of the day...
he waits for the sun to sleep
without a clue, the sky turns black
and rain starts to pour hard on the land
the rain crashes down on earth
a storm, the strongest for the year
Weak old tree
bend his tired toes
breaths profusely in the storm
his leaves scalded
his branches, not strong anymore
crashed down the ground
his tears pouring with the rain
picking his self back
but his not like the grass nor the bamboo
who could stood still in the nature's wrath..

cycle

...as the old lavenders wilts as the summer ends
there shall be another pollen
waiting for another spring to come
and bring her to full bloom...

...as the old grass grew in lush...
waiting for the rain to pour
waiting for the sun to rise
waiting to die...
But if ever he dies,
his roots shall remain to bear another new born grass...

..and now PHILIPPINES is turning yellow..
..it may mean, it is blooming or it is wilting..
...for all we know, colors are deceiving,too...