Galleria de los amigas

You were,

You are

And you will fill my heart,

My mind,

The longings 

I can find.

Yet to have known,

And loved you the years,

In which I had grown.

I will love as the same,

‘coz in my eye’s

You will always stay the same,

And be loved,

With no other name.


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On your lips it parts,

On your arms that hold me so

My love

My heart

My thea,

only you can make my life sing.

Only you make my mind numbed and dumbed.

Love me and leave me, yet you cannot.

I give you take,

You take O give.

Your hands balanced mine,

As my embrace love yours.

Unwillingly my hands involuntarily loves your hair.

As you with my heart and hold me close,

Before I even break a nose,

And care to make it dry 

before it ran away every tear that pours.

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Where is the heart,

Where is my love,

I cannot find you.

When did I lose you,

When was the time we fell in love.

I am here

Still waiting,

Still wailing,

Telling screaming shouting,

I am silently waiting,

For U to come get me,

I will wait,

But don’t be late,

I am gladly mad,

For we can make up time,

In that bed where we used to have

Conversations under our arms in twine,

To live each other,

And start each day like no other,

For nor infinity

Not even eternal,

Coz baby,

My love for you grows each time,

A day that we plant misses upon our skin,

As the water flows from our rain.






which upon

. . . Your smile

I look,

Your eyes

I stare,

Your lips

My goal.

then you ‘d known

for sometime, I wanted none

But your attention, maybe when we get too much,

Do want all your affection in abundant cheer and splendor

Upon our love is our foundation.

Which rest in spring mornings, while birds whisper their sonata.



Remind me to rewind my mind,

and see if that yesterday was deja vu since last Tuesday.

And that line of hers, wasted me a Friday,

where  wanted nothing more to,

do something out of conversation since

last May.

Do I have to stress this now,

where my day can be as good

as it can be,

not tomorrow. . .

but as I walk into the hall of beauties,

in that good ol cafe.




June of 89,

marked a year

where I was,

where I were,

In a state of my own self.

A lover of words,

A lover of girls that do not speak . . .

of girls that enter that atrium where

they were the buffet 0f my ey3.

Then an eye took my breath away,

while I looked under while I sang,

with an angel in the midst of

girls inside a varsity of voices.


The lost frames of Adora Mia Amoy.

Una sekwensia.

Isang ibon ang aking na alala

pag ika’y nakikita,

na pumanaw sa aking unang silang

sa umagang natandaan.

At ako’y nag papaka tanga sa pag ibig

na bumubulag sa pusong kong wala

ano mang makita kung di ang iyong

pag ibig na walang ningning.

With your skin silky soft,

against my manly bruised arms,

holding me gently as I knead my cheeks unto yours.

Then we caress the love we need, not the lust we dont want.