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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Expectations are a bitch,

Disappointments would be the demons of my heart,

Thing is,

if I do put all these in everything I do,

Then I am no worse,

And yes I will

And yes I will make,

What of it,

That lies beneath from it.

Then I shall take my helm and use that which

Blinds my mind,

To beat my heels out of all things,

I know it may progress an improvement

And use every faltering failures,

As my boots,

And I may surely walk out of

That bolgia,

Into the clearing of limbo

Of my own 






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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.







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.


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.



Mula ng ako ay nawalan ng malay sa iyong palad,

Nakita ko na ako pala ang may ibang mulat sa pag ibig mo.

On that pillow that i used to lay when we parted that night,

I know that you were only there for the outlet of this fingers that knew.


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A rose is no other than its bud,

 a scent hath no other,

I gave way too many,

still you scour and put 

me in a sour mood.

The next time,

it wont be red,

only tulip instead.