god is a clown

 

God is a Clown

kinky   swollen   oversized  polka dot  misty  seven  upturned
hair  nose  shoes  shirt  eyes  fingers  smile
sang  danced  puffed  scolded  sat  waved  gazed
onstage  tower  fart  child  staircase  crowd  clouds
videoke bar Paris  restaurant  amusement park basement  hometown  hill
lighting  calling  dispersing  yelling  fighting  bidding  dreaming
happy  rain  costumers  cry  cobwebs  farewell  granddaughter

• A clown with kinky hair sang onstage in a videoke bar lighting the night happy.
• The clown with swollen nose danced at the top of a tower in Paris calling the rain to fall in.
• The clown with oversized shoes puffed a fitful of fart in a restaurant dispersing the costumers away.
• The clown with red polka dot shirt scolded a child in an amusement park yelling her to stop crying.
• The clown with misty eyes sat in the middle of staircase in his basement fighting cobwebs.
• The clown with seven fingers waved to the crowd in his hometown bidding his farewell.
• The clown with upturned smile gazed on the rolling clouds on top of the hill dreaming of his dead granddaughter.

the lawn is green

The Lawn is Green 

The lawn is green and so is the sea.
The earth smoothes as waves breathe.
The sun glimmers on ripples but sparkles life more on the dew and
from my window I sneak and watch you stand on the shore beneath.

There are four trees and they are as green as the sky.
The mangos sweeten the air with their yellow curves.
Oh! How they battle and bleed just to conquer the tang of the waves.
How I wish to bite the life in them the way you did to my young lips!
 
A white picket fence borders the sea from the sky.
Their soft points caress the day fresh and without
remorse scratches the grey clouds away into another time,
to save us once more of the cold nights we could be apart.

A flagstone walk trails a path to my white door.
And for years of its yearning existence, the door
opens to welcome you once more. It creaks to invite you of the youth
we had once and of the life we could have when we had the chance.

how to..

How to Practice the Religion of Bulimia 

How to Practice the Religion of Bulimia

Drink lots of water and wait for five minutes. Lift
cover of the toilet bowl. Don’t be disgusted. Position the
head adjacent to the bowl. If a beginner, use point finger only.
For the veterans, choose any gadget that is suitable. Start poking throat.
Expect unpleasant outcome.

                                                 Avoid unnecessary sounds.
Things may go wrong: Father may use the shower; mother
may need to wash lingerie or little sister can have upset stomach
and starts banging on the door. Take things slowly. Play with the uvula
and massage the tonsils. Wait for the first surge of puke. Let it all flow. Do not
resist the tide. If done, go deeper and find the epiglottis. Play and massage the throat harder.
Let the second surge of puke be forceful. Don’t be distracted by the bitter,
sour and acrid taste of bile and gastric juice. Repeat the process over
again for the third, fourth or fifth surge until you feel empty.
Wash face, hands or any gadgets after the ritual.

                                                                               Feel the tummy. Make
sure that all items are out and no gas has entered the digestive system.
Wash the floor for outflow. Flush the toilet. Cover the bowl.
Spray freshener to remove any pungent smell. Inhale.
Do not tell anyone. If things go wrong, we are
not liable for your actions. Next time we’ll
try obesity.

                      Amen.

my love for you..

*plop*

mag-Empoy ‘ta choy

*plop*

everything passive and active

active

You pity me and
you stare at me like a fish.
You cast nose cringes over my way
and you roll clouds into my eyes.
You love me, I know, but how you hate my haircut.

______________

 passive

I am pitied and
I am being stared like a fish.
Nose cringes are cast my way
and clouds are rolled into my eyes.
I am loved, I am told, but it’s my haircut that is loathed.

abstract. wearing. doing.

BLOCK 

Creativity flew from out of nowhere and perched
     on the base of your forehead singing right beside your temple

Clad in fancy Christmas ornaments, of green toys,
     red balls, mistletoes and of golden foils, it’s as proud as a general of his suit

It pecked the arcs of your brows and tickled and whispered
     a song to your eyelids to the immense echoes of the night that is this dreamland

______________

Creativity perched beside your temple

Clad in fancy Christmas ornaments

Whispering snores into your eyes

unang maoy (ikaw)

*plop*

unang maoy (siya)

*plop*

sa tanan

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salamat