Is Love a Cliche?

This is a so-nice poem I've read yesternight (while Ellice was memorizing it). I so love it that I memorized it then and there.

Sonnet XVII
Pablo Neruda

I don't love you as if you were the salt-rose,topaz
or arrows of carnations that propagate life;
(A man loves a woman not because she gives him life but rather because she is his life herself. He loves her not because she is a gem but rather because she's so ordinary, she deserves to be loved.)

I love you as certain dark things are loved
Secretly between the shadow and the soul;
(He loves her for she shows him the dark in order to see the light--a mystery only the inner self can understand.)

I love you as a plant that doesn't bloom
and carries within itself the light of those flowers
(Why love the blooming flowers when they wither before the sunlight? For he who loves a bud, loves the life inside it. A man who loves a woman not because of how she dresses herself but how she lives herself is a true lover.)

And thanks to your love, darkly in my body lives dense fragrance
that rises from the earth.
I love you without knowing why, or when, or from where
I love you simply without problems or pride:
(Is this what love is? Being so ignorant? Being unreasonable? May be. or may be not?)

I love you in this way
because I don't know any other way of loving but this:
in which there is no I nor you.
So intimate, that your hand upon my chest is my hand.
So intimate that when I fall asleep,
it is your eyes that close.
(When love imprisons two person in a cell, they become one. Only them can feel a string of connection, a confusing understanding.)

True?

Ang kawalan ng maisip...

Ang sarap balik-balikan ang mga alaala ng high school. Mga ginawang proyekto… mga kalokohan… mga outings… mga kabalbalan… mga pinagtripang guro… mga naparusahang kamalian… Madami, sobrang dami. At lahat ng ito’y masayang naumpisahan at ipinagpapatuloy dahil sa mga kaklaseng tinuring na kaibigan… at kaaway.

What am I going to write now? Is it about my high school memories? I don’t think I can inscribe those memories now. Little time won’t be enough for a mountain of pages. High school was great and so are its reminiscences. I’ll be writing that some time, though.

Just a touch of that part of my life, this poem I made was a requirement. Yeah, I had no choice but to squeeze my poor brain. *laugh*

Oo, Ako nga 'to

Ngayo'y hindi na lungkot kundi tuwa

ang namamasdan sa kanilang mga mata

Sapagkat isang anghel ang sa kanila'y ibinigay

ng Amang Diyos na mapagpalang tunay.

Oktubre noon, ika-dalawampu't dalawang araw

ang katahimikan ay unti-unting pumapanaw;

Iyak ng babaeng sanggol ang narinig,

Sanggol na bunga ng umusbong na pag-ibig.

Sa gabi, siya'y hinehele ng kanyang ama,

O 'di kaya'y kinukuwentuhan ng kanyang ina.

Sila ay maglalaro kinabukasan,

O 'di naman kaya ay aklat ang binubuksan.

Dumating ang araw ng kanyang pagpasok,

Sa Sentral ng Pidigan, talento niya'y hinubog.

At 'di naglaon, nagtapos siya ng elementarya

na bitbit ang unang medalya.

Sekondarya, Abra High School ang kanyang pinasukan

sa pag-asang dito niya matatagpuan

ang mas mataas na antas ng pagtuturo

at mga gurong tunay na matatalino.

Kulang sa sampung buwan mula ngayon,

Aakyat sa entablado, makukuha na ang diploma

sa wakas, magtatapos na!

Oopps! Sampung b'wan? Matagal pa 'yon.

Pero salamat na rin sa paaralan

(ang aga pa para magpasalamat no)

sa paghubog sa aking isipan;

Sa pagkabuo ng pangarap,

Ito ang gabay sa paghahanap.

Hay... Ang bilis ng panahon,

(parang rocket sa space!)

Kailan lang nang siya'y hubad

at tumatakbo palabas kahit umaambon.

Ngayon? Aba! Sa ina siya pa'y mas matangkad.

(Nag-Growee siguro 'to.)

Batang inaaruga ng mapagmahal na magulang,

Mag-aaral na sa guro'y maraming natutunan,

Nagkaroon ng mga kaibigan

na karamay sa iyakan, katuwaan o ano pa man,

Taong hindi sumusuko sa laban,

Kahit takot, sige pa rin, nagtatapang-tapangan.

Ha? Opo, ako po iyan.

Bago ko tuldukan ang pagkahaba-habang tulang 'to,

(mahaba na para sa'kin, 'wag nang kumontra)

May mensahe ako para sa inyo

(sa mga nagbabasa man o hindi,

sa mga nandito man o wala):

Salamat! Salamat! Salamat! Salamat sa lahat

You bring out the best in me

(Ngek! 'Di na nagtugma-tugma. 'Sensya na.)

At dito na nga nagtatapos ang aking tula.

Akala niyo may kasunod pa? Wala na!

Teka! Pahalik... MMMWWWAAAHHH!

_iann

13Jun06

Nakakatawa noh? Parang tanga lang gumawa. Hindi ako marunong sa tula e. Parang nilaro lang ‘yan pero hindi. My! Kawawa rin utak ko noon. Pinag-isipan ko naman ‘yan kahit papa’no.

Hidi ko talaga alam kung ano ilalagay ko rito. Wala pa kasing “intense” emotion kaya ‘di ako makapagsulat. *wide grin*

Wala pa masyadong bumibisita kasi rito. ‘Pag meron na, saka na lang ako gagawa ng bonggang bongga. *winks*

Sariling Pakikipagtalastasan

Heto ako nakaharap sa salamin. Nakikipagtitigan sa sarili kong repleksyon. Nagsasalita, akala mo may kausap. Iniisip ko nga na sa harapan ko ay kumpol ng tao. Sila ang gusto kong kausapin. Nakatindig ako sa harapan nila. Lahat sila nakatitig sa'kin. Hinihintay na marinig ang bawat salitang aking bibitawan. May tiwala sila sa akin na ang bawat ideyang hinuhugis ng aking mga labi ay para sa kanilang kapakanan at sa buong salinlahi. Sana ganito ang kapangyarihan na taglay ng aking pakikipagtalastasan sa kapwa ko tao. Ngunit naisip ko na kailangan ko pala munang kumbinsihin ang sarili ko na maniwala sa mga ideolohiyang aking ipaparating sa taumbayan.

Kanina, pag-uwi ko, napagmasdan ko ang kalyeng aking tinatahak. Inilikbay ang mga mata sa paligid. Ang daming sasakyan. Nakakabingi ang kanilang mga ungol. Nasasaktan din ang ilong ko dahil sa matatalim nilang usok. Nakakabulag ang kaitiman. Animo'y mga bumabang ulap na nagdadala ng matinding bagyo.

Puros bato na nahugis sa isang bahay na mahirap sabihing isang tahanan. Paano ba naman kasi, halos wala namang tumitira. Grabe! Nag-uunahan ang bawat bahay na abutin ang kalangitan. Napakataas na ambisyon. Kalangitan? Hindi ko alam kung langit pa bang matatawag ang dating karagatan sa taas na unti-unting nagiging hukay. Hukay ng mga mababangis na diyablo.

Mahaba ang paglalakad ko. Pero ayos lang dahil sa isang halamang tinuring kong pag-asa. Araw-araw kong pinapanalangin na sana umusbong ang maliliit at mapuputi nitong bulaklak. Subalit, pagdaan ko kanina wala pa rin. Wala ni kahit talulot. Doon ko napagtanto na ang mga talulot nito ay natatakot ng lumabas...kinulong ng mga mababangis na usok at sa kawalan nito ng karamay. 'Yun bang kapwa niya halaman. Siya na lang kasi natitira. Baka nga bukas, wala na rin siya.

Malapit nang mamatay ang dating mundo. Iyong mundo kung saan nakikipaghalakhakan ang tao sa bawat alon ng dagat; nakikiawit sa mga ibon; nakikisayaw sa hangin; nakikilangoy sa mga isda; nakikisabay sa mga talon ng mga tipaklong sa bukiran; nakikipaglaro sa mga paruparong masayang nakikipagligawan sa mga rosas, sa mga hasmin, sa mga sampagita. Doon sa mundong ang matayog ay hindi gusali kundi mga punong ang iniaalay sa langit ay hindi kadiliman kundi kasariwaan: lunti, hindi itim. Doon sa mundong ang tinatangay ng agos ay hindi basura kundi ang mga lotus na namumulaklak, pinupuno ang sapa't ilog ng kaputihan, inaakay ang bawat nilalang sa kalmang paglubog ng araw at sa pagbati nila sa bagong buwan at mga bituin.

Nakakalungkot isipin na pagdating ng araw at ako'y magkakaroon ng anak, marahil kuwento na lamang ang lahat ng ito. Ginagawan na lamang niya ng mga larawan ang bawat kuwento ko gamit ang kanyang imahinasyon. Paano kung gusto niyang makita ang totoo? Sasabihin ko bang kathang-isip na lamang ang lahat? Sasabihin ko bang ipinagkait sa kanya ng kapwa niya nilalang ang kagandahan ng mundo? Masakit isipin na ang panahon ko ang nagnakaw sa masaya sana niyang pakikihalubilo sa kapaligiran. Masakit isipin na ang panahon ko ay walang ginawa, hinayaang mamatay ang tunay na mundo. Masakit isipin na tayo ang magkakasala sa susunod na salinlahi.

Sana bukas, muling isaboy ng bulaklak na 'yon ang malapit na rin ilibing na pag-asa.

iann_05Oct08

My Two Romeo...

There's this one guy who still can sweep me off my feet. Years had passed but as if the days I spent with him hadn't. They have remained dreams now, though. Dreams... Those pictures of memories that haunt me every night and steal few times of my day. I wish them to happen again. But then, "nothing happens twice" they say. Could they be so right? Oh well, only time can tell.

He pushed me away. He still does. That makes me long for him more. He's cold. I have no idea why. We were friends. He even told me once that we "surpassed friendship". That can only mean one thing: romantic love. It's still a big puzzle to me why things had changed and turned out to be like this. How can I ask him if he doesn't even care at all!

I have no boyfriend. Only one reason: I couldn't find a guy like him or almost like him.

Though, I like someone. He may not be so much like him but I find him smart. I haven't met him yet but I know it'll be soon enough for me to get over the first guy.

Here's a poem for the guy I'm missing:

Agony of Longing

An air of an afternoon breeze
brushes off through my face,
cooling it like a heat
soaked in the freezing mist
of a sunset.

A sunset that regresses me
to the only memory
I have long wanted
to be dead.

That sunset I watched
amazingly at the park
became no less than dull.

So I walk my way home,
hoping the picture of you
would just be burned down
like the sunflowers that'd gone
with the sun.

I arrive, seeing my guitar,
waitin' to be quivered;
Then a tune dances
as my fingers give life
to each string.

My eyelids restrain my eyes
to the vacuum of darkness,
as I let my melody carries me
to the sway of freedom.

Unwittingly, I'm playin' the piece
of notes you had sung to me:
It reechos the sound of the past,
and I weep.

I weep like a child,
lost...
forgotten...
in the middle of nowhere.

And the more I think of you...

I stare at the hollow ceiling
where my thoughts draw nothin'
but your face.

Oh, your face!--
a replica of Great Achilles:
so handsomely beautiful.
I reach my hands to it:
as if I cloud touch its softness;
as if I could kiss it.

Your eyes were like the vast
vessels of the ocean:
can not be fathomed,
yet to think not the earth
that lies on its bottom
makes every crystal of water
a reflection of love itself.

Your gaze that would show me
what my fantasies prevent me to see--
to see life in its clarity;
to look at reason, grasp reality.

The reality that love
is unbounded, unconfined:
no options to choose from,
no ideal, just the right man.

The reality that life
must be sovereigned
not by wishes and whims
but by reason--
the only choice
to seize reality itself
and not to be forsaken
by the abyss
we refuse to see.

Your rose-tinted lips
that you passionately pressed to mine
still linger on me,
though the wings of farewell
had flown them away.

When will I be able to kiss again
the petals of your love?
If it will take forever
to clasp the thorns of waiting,
I'll bathe from my own blood.

Your tongue, the most luscious
my teeth had never hindered
to enter my mouth,
has been the snake
that spat off a venomous saliva
I've been wanting to lick
the life out of me.

Your hand that caressingly ran
through the contours of my body,
is now the very monster
that grips my heart so hard.
Oh, my heart! You make it numb.

Your chest where my head used to lie
and my ear used to listen
to the beating of its prisoner,
is now nothing but a rigid stone
that hits my head
and deafens my ear.

I think of you
as if you're still in my arms.
And I can't escape
the anguish of missing you.
Your absence is like a sharp metal
being drawn to my heart.

I collapse on my bed
for my feet can not hold me any longer.

I howl, thinking the pain
would just leave with every breath.
It failed.
And I howl again
for my raptured love.

It's already dawn.

The light,
illuminated by the rising sun,
creeps inside the walls where I lie.
But I just take a glance
like its existence is mere illusion.

I think of you again.

Have you forgotten me?

The light has grown blinding,
My eyes are forced to close.

After some moment,
I open them again...

.....................

Your face is gone.

_iann
23Jun2008

And for the guy that might bring my feet back on the ground, don't pull the hope away from me. Don't you dare for good's sake!

When You Knocked the Door

How wide is this room where I am imprisoned!
How it makes me so alone and abandoned!
What truth has it slapped me that I could not feel?
When will it show me the clarity of what is real?
It is so dark in here.
I am in so much fear!

Then a hand breaks the door's silence,
when I am about to swirl down the pit.
He sits and gives me a warming embrace,
and this room rises to life a bit.

He is, however, a mere cloud of a man.

Yet I cry not, I die not,
for I can still hear his distant voice;
for I see his gaze full of hope;
for I feel his breath that blows me up.
I might die if emptiness will creep,
but his only presence is the rope
that ties my thought
to a moment of bliss.

_iann
24Aug08

*sigh*. Is this what love can do to people? It's such a maze!

(14Oct08)

The Dance I Wished to have Lasted...

I was looking at you from your side. You saw me. So I turned my gaze to the other side. Then you shocked me when you headed to where I seat. You offered me a hand and asked for a dance. I never expected you to do that. In fact, I didn't want to have expectations for I l knew they'd crash all the same. I didn't take any second thought, I said yes like a flash...like a shooting star on which I sung a wish... A wish you made to come true. You led me on the floor of my living dream. As if everything has vanished and only us were left. Like the princess in the hands of his prince, I felt so helpless yet enchanted in your arms, in your presence. You looked through my eyes and and I looked through yours as if we were sharing the same world...as if we were going back to our past. Our past that sealed the memory of one love. You asked me how my life is going though you were seeing me eight hours a day, five times a week. I answered with a smile: "It's fine so far. How about yours?". You said you're happy. Again, there was silence. You held me, close to an embrace. I closed my eyes, just feeling your breath on my nape. It was calm. Almost in tears, I asked how are you and her. You denied anything between you two but I knew she and you were leading to that fantastic world. "This would be our last dance, wouldn't it?" I required assurance. You didn't know what to say. I understood. We were both ignorant of what will happen. After a while, you thanked me. I thanked you back. You said I'm the girl you won't ever forget for being there when you need me; for I touched your life more than I imagined I could; for you met me. I didn't give you reasons for my thanking you. I was afraid to tell you how many lessons you've taught me, how many pieces of puzzles you've given me. I was afraid to tell you how I've found half of what I am. I was afraid to tell you that I've been loving you. Fear made me mum. All I was able to say is,"Lead me back." Everything appeared. I saw people dancing. I saw her. I saw you take her to the dance. I saw her smiling. I saw her happy. And I saw myself weeping inside...hurting...wishing I were her. I held my head to the heavens and thought: maybe, just maybe, someday I'll be the only one you are dancing with...for the rest of the nights. iann_/08Oct08