Pedantic Pedestrians II

7/31/2019 Pedantic Pedestrians II

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pedantic

pedestrians ii


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Ganito nakikiramay ang langit sa atin

Ako ang dakilang tagapagmasidSumusubaybay sa pagsibolNg pawis sa iyong braso, konsensiya sa iyong ulo,Barya sa inyong bulsa, dahil nililimos ang kita.

Isipin niyong ang ulap ang aking mga mataAt dito ang simula ng pagmamasidAt ang ulan ang aking mga luha

uwing ang inyong pagdarahop ay aking nababatid

(Ganito, ganito ang lahat ng pakikiramay.Hindi ko alam ang pakiramdam ng makasuhan,Kumain ng panis na isda, iwan ng mahal, peroSasamahan, sasamahan.)

Sa akin ang kulogSa akin ang kidlat

Ang kulog ay para ipaalala na may likas na liwanag kahit tagdilimO kung abo ang lahat: ang ulap, ang langit, ang pananawWag masindak: alalahanin ang bukang-liwayway, ang dapit-hapon,Ang pagpapalit ng panahon.

Ang kidlat ay paalala na wag tutulalaHinahakbang, tinatalunton, ginagapang ang lahat papuntang kata-pusanandaan ang garalgal na tunogHindi isang kumikinang na opera o konsyerto ang buhay

Isiping ang hangin ang aking kamayDumadampi upang ipaalala ito ito ang meron tayo: buhay.At iyong mga takot, iyong mga mapanglaw, iyong nagluluksa nanglubusan kahit tapos na ang ulan Sila ang nararatay.

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Nightmare of the grammar nazi

The pounding in his chest seemo race against the motions o his legsBut this time its no dreamIts no dream the little slashes romTe blades o grass the curses rom behind becamingLouder every step he took prooread verses in hisArms now wets with dew the oozing mixtureO blood and sweat rom his head, the greens

And browns and blue losing their edges rom his eyesBareoot men behind him he cannot see them o courseTis makes him shudders he is tempted to look backedo drain a thimble o ear rom his stomach but noIt only adds more trembling to his knees this looking-backsTis mili-second sights o glinting scythes and teeth

He elt his legs twisting betraying his will too runHe stumbled he cursed but his curse is only oneHe was met with a multitude o laughs:Lazy boy have you say your prayers?Te blades descending on his prostate orm the grass he shieldedHimsel with his arms poor him its no dream unable to readTe poem as itsel araid to die ignorant

Tat nightmares are supposed to end.


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This Bed

It has been long enough.Longing or this warmspace beside youin this bed.I housed memoriesunder sheets and pillowsWarmth preserved,

Preserving memories.Only in such conditionsthat longing is not that long.In this place o repose,sometimes the cold enters.When the niche between usgrows arther.Your back turning against me,the sheets rolling away,the memories witherand this bedbecomes just a bed.

So calm and still you remainin absence o the coldness and o me.I housed memoriesunder sheets and pillowsWarmth preserved,Preserving memoriesand i think it's time to dolie's laundryto remove the memorable mess.and this bed,becomes just a bed.

Nangingilid ang luha sa mata ng buwan

1.Nangingilid ang luha sa mata ng buwanhabang silay-silay nito ang buntis na mundoat kung paano niya ngasabin ang sariling sanggol.

2.Namimintog ang tiyan niyana para bang dala niya sa sinapupunan

ang mundong walang pagpintig ni paghinga.

3.Nauulol ang mga asotuwing amoy pinipig ang paligid.Kahit ang buwan, astang hibang na hibang.

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Umiihip ng pulang hangin ang langit

Umiihip ng pulang hangin ang langit, nakikiindayog sa sayawan ngusok atmga kuliglig, bawat pitik ng mga pakpak na sing ninipis ng pagsuyoko,nagtutulak sa bawat usad ng mundo.

Kulay abo ang mga puno, at ang mga hamog na naninirahan sa mgadahon

ay malulungkot na asul. Naninilaw ang lupa na para bang yakap nitoang arawhabang unti-unti silang naghihiwalay pulgada kada pulgada.Ang lupa, dilaw tungong kayumanggi.Ang araw, dilaw tungong kahel.

Nagsisimula na ang Linggo kahit ang Sabadoy inaalimpungatan pa.Ngunit ang pinakamahalaga, sa pagsalubong sa umaga,Ay ang leeg mong amoy agahan.

towers of golden penis

towers of golden penis they surround the cityvendors would sell them hal the price o your mothersmall versions o themand the big ones are built by little working semenwearing protective hats on their halted heads

to the moon is where they ollowstretching and scratching between scrapers

piercing through the clouds o cotton daydreamspenetrating musings

they shine vibrant and brilliant and sometimesi a bit thicker, vaguelyas they put shadows to the city where you can onlynd shadowed hearts

and each day is a throbbing sensationto do things over and over again until you ejaculate your drive

even the sun melts being surrounded by big thick lengthy dicksits liquid yellow light dripping to the streets and concrete wallslike ghosts o hope but no

everyone everyone everyone everyoneeating ordinary blueberry munsshitting watery skulls and scars of past lovescontemplating jazz atop penis heads smoking to the city chaosbreathing false beliefs and intentions from corporations of plastic dreamsliving as tiny as the universe palpitates for saving

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5/10

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Greater vastnessO the many waiting beds,o other wanting waveso others like me.o my sea lover and lover o seas,I will always remember the voyagesas I oer oceans of tears.

Sea Lovers

Sea Lovers

We swim through the nightIn the watery sheetsIn the oceanic vastnessO this simple bed.We unite,Sheet to skin,Skin to sheet,Skin on skin,

Our love in the tides.Like the ocean,Tis tidal passionCrashes into the shorelineO our slippery bodies.And or each receding moment,We wash away rom ourselvesTe strokes o heatFrom our desolateLives beyond the carnal waves.As the rising tidesSlowly nd stillness and repose,

Rivers o sheetsLay calm againstTe tired bodies.And to quench your love o sea,You dive again another dayNot in my calm riversBut in the depthsO the many oceansYou dream to voyage.You long to plunge into


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mga bula ang ulo ng tao

mga bula ang ulo ng tao kung saan wala itong ibang kahihinatnankung hindi pagputok o pagkasira

at ang mga mata natin ay mga pares ng kristalna walang ibang kayang makita kundi pira-pirasong imahengwalang ibig sabihin

ni matalos ang kabuuan ay hindi nito kayang buuin

ni sakupin ang isip sa manipis na kumot na tawag ay mundoy dikayang balutin

ang bawat dila ng taoy sunog na gomanakasisirat malansa sa pandinig.

Breakfast

I eat all my lovers in the morningBecause they turn out shit in the night.Tey go down grabbing and pullingrying to breathe as we all gasp or airrying to stay when all they do is to choke youAnd leave (un)wanted love marks all over.Teir favourless favour,Bitter longing and sweet sweat

O Sunday morning sexHave little to do with how they are made:As they are prepared especially or every day,Tey are a selection in the groceryAll o them ready to eat, to grind and to loveAnd i anything happens, there are no returnsBut you will always have the optionO the next best thing.Edible, malleable, pocket sized and disposablewe love and make love to eatHe is a little bit o everything that is too muchBut better than ried eggs, they are non-atAnd non-committal.So you wont have to worry

O any extra old on your tummyOr breaks in your heart.

I resent them my lovers, but I love them still in the endBecause there is no better love than selsh consumptionWhat matters is breakast:Te bitter atertaste o the morning ater,And it is always something that you ate.

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The lake whose glimmer is

The lake whose glimmer isMirrored in our eyesSerene as souls becalmedTe intertwining o hands, too amiliarA knot untied with a mere twitch o the thumbA amiliar song playing its too amiliar ruthlessnessHushed by the orchestrated din oa thousand alling leaves

Ten the kiss, a amiliar sipFrom the bottle that has lost its spirit,Its amily, then your embrace, the limbs o aDecaying angel.

Conversations with Deleuze

At last you have saidA ancy or the worlds breastAt least you have saidA aint star at my behestCrumpling a books pageJumping through window panes!You talk too much manI collect stars round the earth

But still I cant buy the universe


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we meet.Sometimes, I dare to eel the spacesBetween your ngers, and guess theShampoo you used in the morning.Sometimes it elt like you were beside me,in 10pm nights where gaps areorever to be understood.I tried to make up metaphors

For the stillness, the nebulous nearness,but as all science and religions have seen,there was only, nebula; always:distance.Always: space.

So I turn to metaphors.So I always ailSo I always fail.

On the failure of --

On the failure of --

Let me begin by saying:I am not yet tired o metaphors.Sometimes, you are the voice oNorah Jones creeping under mytragedies at night.Sometimes, you are the olds inthe bedsheet, the thing I arrangemost, I touch last beore I

sleep.Sometimes you are the wholesomeburning at the tip o a cigarette,fickering and ading, ading anddying, like the moon at dawn,yet still listening to my belated songso sadness.And you are an alarm clock ringingsometimes, pulling me o the bed,the vague meaningulness o sleep,the anxious escape rom the ants on the foorand the realizations o all literature,

I wake everyday because you are.

Once, we walked together amidst thewetness o streets, under the atedoccurrence o treacherous nights.Your pauses were ends o sentences,Mayan predictions, apocalyptic ghosts.Which I accompany with my ownakely innocent breaths. Tere wasair around us. Itwas theonly place where


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Another poem about shit

So I opened the lid, sat in excrutiang slow-motion, withmonumental orce, a orce, let us say, a orce o nature,the throbbing pain, may Mary pity those who have theirbrain in their butts, this is what they eel when they havea headache, yet the suering, god, the labor, their ruit isnothing but a bite-sized mound, a despicable walnut, loat-ing in aquamarine water, but worry not, my riend, thismound is something that even Rommy Garduce will not

dare to climb, yes, yes, yes, the tip has just allen, herecomes the iceberg, but no, what is this horror, my god, ismy bum playing tricks on me, its my heart! its all warm-blooded gory, I umbled my behind to check, I was teary-eyed, but then, you knocked, Man, its now your part, andI realized its not a heart, poets have a penchant or poosand mendicants, and yes, wait, here comes the iceberg...

PASASALAMAT

Maraming salamat kay Sandra para sa p pic! At kay Glen para sa pag-gawa ng posters and shit!

Sali na sa pedantic pedestrians! Kontakin niyo kami sa aming ace-

book page (www.acebook.com/pedanticpedestrians). O kaya i-textang 09278192897. Oh yeah.. :)

-Pedantic Pedestrians


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Tasteless, callow, brain-neutral, throw in every adjective, you

have for a shitty folio...there you have it.

-Jose Garcia Villa

Okay. But is not essentially disciplined poetry. No regard for

traditional poetic forms is evident. Knowledge of grammar is

elementary.

-F. Sionil Jose

One does not merely blah blah blah.

-Meme-spouting guy

Exquisite verses from such young and voluptuous talents!!!

-Stephanie Meyer

Nagsusumikap po tayong lumikha ng mga akdang tutulong sa

ating bagtasin ang tuwid na daan. Heneral, dukutin ang mga

ito! -PNoy

Pedantic Pedestrians II

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