elusive death

Buried beneath the crevices of my hand
are million of lost laughter and broken kites
and tattered petals.
I can feel the crying bursting off my veins
popping out of my eyes
louder than the staccato of guns in the mountains.

This war is in my heart,
why can’t I kill you at once?
What prevents me from pulling the trigger?
Why can’t I kill you? What do I fear?

Nothing is sacred,
nothing can’t be traversed,
vengeance are spiky stares,
are barbed wires,
are thorns forced upon my head.

Why is it that when I look at you
I see my ferocious eyes,
I see my cowardice,
I see my sins.

Why do I hear pulse throbbing
each time I aim my gun at you?
Why am I so afraid to kill you/

LIFE HAS NO LIGHT without death.
I just want to spread light
so that we may know life better.

But why is death so elusive, why?

09feb2007/ 9am



when messiahs
become unwelcome stalkers
that assault the nose like smog
and fumes bathing Manila;

when the reeking cycle
of age-old lies and greed
grows stronger every minute,
where can one find deliverance?

or is there such thing as deliverance
anymore? refuge of pen from pain?
but it only accentuates the misery;

the faster the words populate the page,
the deeper the memory stabs the heart,
yet, is there any other way
than this catharsis?