Yes

Yes, I want you to love me
even if I no longer write about it
Yes. I wish with all my heart
you’d walk back into my life
even if everything I do or say
seems to tell the world
you’re no longer my world
and I’ve moved on
to my next destructive obsession.
Yes. I haven’t forgotten
that you were the only man
who ever pursued me
and I would pay any price
to have you be the hunter
and myself, the hunted
one more time.
Yes, a thousand times yes
I’m all yours,
take me
I’ve never stopped waiting
even as I was pushing you away
to save myself from myself
and you from the insufferable annoyance
that is also myself.

I will have the prize
most coveted
after stalking it for centuries
and you will finally get back
the virginity you lost
in your previous lifetime
we can say yes to each other
as many times as it takes

just hang on
I’m waiting for this other man
to say his final

No.

After Reading Maxine Syjuco

I realized I am not really a writer.
I am merely a girl
who has a ridiculously dramatic life
and runs to the waiting arms
of marking paper with words
when the pains and convolutedness of living
become unbearable.

I am neither a poet nor a storyteller
only a slightly neurotic woman-child
who actually thinks it’s something to be thankful for
that she didn’t major in creative writing or similar
and never qualified for those conferences
because she thinks she’d be completely lost
without the rawness and immaturity of her vocabulary
and the way her pseudo-lines are structured.

I’m not really meant to be read
I’m not good enough to be published
because I am not a writer,
just a reader who likes living
so intensely
that every time I read something good
insecurity attacks me on all sides
and insignificance terrorizes me
to the point of nonexistence.

Walang Pinag-ibang Pasko, 2009

Tumutugtog sa speakers
and isang bagong kantang Pamasko
nung isang umagang
nakapila ako sa bangko
para ideposit ang halos
buo kong sinuweldo
sa account ng mga pinagkakautangan ko
at nang umabot sa linyang
“…narinig ng langit lahat ng iyong mga dasal…”
hindi ko napigil ang biglang pag-agos ng luha
nagulat ang ibang mga nakapila
at nagmukha akong tanga.

“…narinig ng langit lahat ng iyong mga dasal…”

Sabi ni Rica
naiimagine niya
ang isang taong
maraming hiniling
iba-iba
at nagkatotoo lahat
malaking request man o maliit
nakuha niya
at di siya makapaniwala.

“…narinig ng langit lahat ng iyong mga dasal…”

Sabi ko
naiimagine ko
ang isang taong
isa lang ang hiniling
nang paulit-ulit
sa sobrang habang panahon
hindi na niya alam
kung nakikinig pa ba ang Diyos
o naghihintay na lamang
na pagsawaan niyang gustuhin
ang isang bagay na kailanma’y
hindi mapapasa-kaniya
na ngayong Pasko’y
bigla na lang nagkatotoo
at doon niya lang napagtanto
na wala ni isa man
sa di na niya mabilang na pagkakataon
ng pagsusumamo
ay nasayang
dahil lahat sa kanila’y pinakinggan.

* * *

Kailan mo huling naramdaman
na ang Paskong ito’y
di tulad ng ibang Pasko?

Kailan ka huling naniwala
at umasa
na may mabuting mangyayari
nang walang ibang dahilan
kundi dahil Pasko?

* * *

Ama,
naaantig Ka pa po ba
sa aking mga luha?
Sampung taon ko na pong
ipinagmamakaawa

hindi po ako magsasawa
hanggang buksan Niyo
ang mga pinto ng Langit
at ipadama sa akin
na hindi totoong
walang Nakikinig

You Should Feel Complete, But

Those times when you’d call me
or leave me messages
or write me letters
telling me you missed me
and that you had always loved me
and always would

just barely short of declaring
it was me you should have married
and not her

were they the days
when you two had problems
and you came running back
to the sacred memory
of a pure and strong love
that went wrong only once?

I don’t think so.
If you and I
are as alike
as I know we are
I don’t think that you’d remember me
during the worst times
but during the best times,
when everything is smooth-sailing
and perfect
and golden
and you still can’t help but ask,
Is this all there is?
Isn’t there supposed to be more?

You know you should feel complete
but you suddenly realize
that you don’t
because something is missing.

You Who Must Not Be Named

You have the life with him
the house in the city
the kids that have
your face and his
the ring around your finger
the last name
while I
have his heart.
Would either of us care to switch?

the romantic in me
would not concede this
but I’ll say it:
you still have it
worse
than I:
you have to forgo
all other loves
to hold on to that life
while I
can carry his love around
while building
a different life
perhaps not as happy
but just as rich and full
as I would have had
if I had him by my side

neither you nor I
am whole
but any moment of my choosing
I can claim both halves of him
if I want to
and you’ll be left
with nothing

but I won’t
if there were just
you and me
it would be
a different story
but stripping
two innocent angels
of their faith
so young
can’t be on my conscience

you and I can only pray
Kaitlyn and Kurston
end up
with much better lots in life
than the cards
dealt
the two of us

Jigsaw Piece of Advice

In the beginning was a complete picture
a perfect masterpiece with no missing elements
then it was cut up
into the near-identical shapes of jigsaw puzzle pieces
then released into the world
to fend for themselves
and figure out where they fit

we all of us are equipped with more than five senses
to put things back in their impeccable order
sometimes two parts look like they go together
but the edges don’t conjoin so seamlessly
sometimes two ends feel like a match
but the features printed on the faces don’t agree

we pick slivers of the whole randomly from a heap
some we let go of, others we keep

* * *

If you’ve tried everything
to let go
to the point of hurting yourself
and those around you
and still nothing works
then it’s time to run the other way
put your life on the line
and fight with all you’ve got
for what obviously
belongs with you
and no other

Written on a Möbius Strip

The sieve of reality slipped again
and I crossed paths with them
exquisite handiworks of God
who call you daddy
and could have been spawns of my own womb

(sometimes I suspect
those cracks were deliberately put there
so that these “accidental” revelations
can devastate out hearts into growing up some)

if you ever tell them about love
I hope you tell them about ours

and it will be
a little private joke we will have played on destiny
to have the story of our souls
written in verse on a Möbius strip

The sieve of reality slipped again

and I crossed paths with them

exquisite handiworks of God

who call you daddy

and could have been spawns of my own womb

(sometimes I suspect

those cracks were deliberately put there

so that these “accidental” revelations

can devastate out hearts into growing up some)

if you ever tell them about love

I hope you tell them about ours

and it will be

a little private joke we will have prayed on destiny

to have the story of our souls

written in verse on a Möbius strip

Countdown to California Starts Today

Do you realize
that on the day
you and I
are finally face to face
it will only take an instant
for all the years
to burst into flames
for all the words we’ve ever spoken
to stab themselves to death
for all the dreams we clutched at
and all the prayers we fed with tears
night after night
and all the visions our eyes
have not been spared to see
to fall into place
for the entire universe
to collapse
and rebuild itself
to perfection?
And we will fall into each other
and explode into blazing atoms
of thankfulness and understanding
and the passion will be all that we know
as our minds forget the pain
and forgive everything else
I will consume you
and you will rip me apart
and we will break
every
single
memory
of loneliness
and walk through the debris
on our bare feet
Because all we need is one moment
one look
one kiss
and everything
everyone
has ever built
will be mere rubble
compared to the nucleus
of Heaven
whose halves
have each been in our hearts
this whole time
waiting for this union
so that It might rise
and humble all that exists
to its knees

Iris Orprecio and Sunshine Plata will be in Anaheim to promote the illustrated novel The Espresso Effect during the 2010 Coffee and Tea Convention.

.

I Tell You Now

You’ve seen me
rise above everything
if it hurts
it can’t hurt too much
that I can’t survive it
and emerge
more powerful
and indestructible
than I was before

You’ve watched me
take common and filthy pain
and turn it
into something
worth preserving
for millennia

your cardboard box
of mediocrity
won’t hold me
I’m sorry
your worldly prestige
and timid comfort
and vanity
and material triumphs
in celebration of disillusionment
may add up to a life
you can be content with
but as long as I’m alive
I’m headed to a place
you may be too limited
to even know about

I’m not one of you
I tell you now
don’t hem me in
don’t stand in my path

I’m leaving you behind

Too Strong

People used to tell me
not to do what’s on my mind
warning me about
ambiguous things
like
“the risk is to big”
or “the price is too high”
or “something might go wrong”
or “you might not make it.”

Now their arguments
are reduced to
“not everyone might survive”
“give them a chance”
“other people might get hurt”
with their tentative footfalls
and their voices trembling