u-turn slot sa bingit ng tollgate
060109

Walang kokontra.

Kapag tinawag ka na ng mga tala
        ng maharot na ulap
        ng tisay na buhangin
        ng mga kamay na may ka eyeball
        ng tubig na unti unting gumagapang
        sa kilabot, lamig, init, anghang, tamis,
                nginig, kilig, dagundong, bukas, ngayon, kahapon,
                        laya, sikip, luwag, kanta, sayaw, sigaw,
tindig ng balahibong
nakasaludo sa presensya
ng kagalang galang at pinaka pipitagan,
naka unipormeng pink na camouflage na may hugis puso.

        Itago na lang natin siya sa initials na P.I.

Ang simula.

kahapon nag blog si mikmik tungkol sa mga lumang alaala ng pag-ibig (link), may nabanggit sya dun na sinabi sa kanya ni dweign, na grabe ang ganda kelangan ko talaga i-repost:

"masarap ma-in love sa writer dahil masarap 'yung pakiramdam na maisulat ka nya. Dahil dun magiging timeless ka..."

- dweign baltazar http://pinkbayawak.multiply.com

huwoooow naman yun. lakas! alamat ka tarhata! hehe

(sinulat ko ito para sa Businessworld, gusto daw kasi nila gumamit ng poetry as photo captions para dun sa balentayms article nila. medyo nangapa ako kasi diko talaga style ang mga ganito pero sayang ang opportunity! hehe so eto, ispatan nyo)

Plunge
021009

It could be dusts
suspended in air,
tracing the lines that
invisibly connects me to you,

or it could be bombs imploding,
tearing down my reasoning
encased in a magnetic shield,

or it could be dinosaurs
pounding on my doorstep,
wailing for shelter,

or it could be a shower of arrows
landing on a human turned porcupine,
wondering, of all the
unassuming targets,

or it could be elephants
dancing above my room,
shaking tails until the ceiling breaks,

or it could be laser swords
slicing all suppression,
until I'm ripe to let go.

Maybe.

Or it could be this feeling
that I'm ready
to share with you.

 

Poetry by Charisse 'Chung' Padilla © All rights reserved.

Charisse Padilla Poetry is licensed under a
Creative Commons Attribution-Noncommercial-No Derivative Works 3.0 Philippines License

your ember, like magical dusts
will to continue to flicker before our eyes.
and it will set our hearts on fire.
we will forever remember you.
your are the phoenix.

r.i.p. anabel bosch

well done, dear.
here's a glass of sangria...

Lawa(ng) Bahag Harida
101408

Dalawang kalabit at isang panunuyo.
Dalawang taon ng musmos na kahibangan.
Dalawang subok bago bumigay. Dalawang hinga, ayoko na.
Dalawang buwan hiraman ng (ka)ibigan.
Dalawang buwan naging laruan, yaya, parausan ng isang negrong pabling.
Dalawa pala kami, ayoko na.
Dalawang linggo nabuhay sa alaala ng musmos na pag ibig.
Dalawampu't pitong rason kung bakit hindi pwede ibalik ang nakaraan. Ayoko na.
Dalawang malalim na balon, ang isa'y sa apostol na hindi ko matarok.
Dalawang butas ng ilong may tumutulong dugo.
Dalawang mefenamic acid para sa sakit ng ulo. Ayoko na.
Dalawang linggong pag-aayuno sa gitna ng murang nakaraan.
Dalawang pahina ng habag na pamamaalam.
Malaya nako sa bigkis ng kahapon, ayoko na.
Dalawang araw mula noon, nag multo ang negro.
Dalawang gabing naguluhan sa di inaasahang pag-aasam sa kanyang kalandian.
Dalawang mala-teatrong sampal sa sarili, sabay pagmulat sa gayuma ng pabling.
Dalawang isip, ayoko na.
Dalawang taon nang umaaligid ang maamong usa.
Dalawang eksena na nagpamalas ng aking kakayahan magmukhang tanga.
Dalawa't kalahating minuto hinawakan nya ang kamay ko.
Dalawang taon naghintay ang tigang na puso.
Dalawang sabit bago tuluyang nahulog. Dalawang taon bago tuluyang natunaw ang bato.
Dalawang buwan at dalawa na akong tahimik at masaya.
Dalawang medyas pantapal sa bibig ng babaeng nagpupumilit
na hindi pwede ang isa higit sa dalawa.
Dahil ang nagiisang siya ay napatunayan kong higit nga naman sa dalawa.

Poetry by Charisse 'Chung' Padilla © All rights reserved.

Charisse Padilla Poetry is licensed under a
Creative Commons Attribution-Noncommercial-No Derivative Works 3.0 Philippines License

One Hundred and One Damnations
080508

How can we dispose of ourselves easily, losing grip on our extensive natural knowledge of what is right and wrong, selling kids and kidneys with the stale scent of poverty haunting us like shadows at the end of every transaction? There are desperate lines of rice and lottery everywhere. Panic buying and buying panic. Natural disasters that bring great loss. They happen beyond fathom but are seeking to be tamed. We will never be sure of the secret of events as we live with thinner and thinner walls of onion making us cry and laugh as our mind fluctuates with fading hope, feeding on perhaps the last roll of logic. More will consider the idea that death is the perfected escape from this perverted world. We are all marionettes, strangled by our own helter-skelter freedom of will. Bodies are falling from high places with fake peace twisted around their necks, giving no herald for the theater curtains to involuntary fall.

Poetry by Charisse 'Chung' Padilla © All rights reserved.

Charisse Padilla Poetry is licensed under a
Creative Commons Attribution-Noncommercial-No Derivative Works 3.0 Philippines License

Who is This?

Photo by Ponj Roco
More pics here


flick

crimson line,
breathe the scent of
        a marvel.
mint foliage
        of life,
        goodness
        and dominion.

all too postcard, eh?

now, dance

to the sound of trembling ground
mapped by procrastination
frolic in scorch and drought
taste the protean rain
sway to my terrestrial outcry

i hear

the sound
        of a precarious womb.

all we contribute
are
        footprints of carbon.

go figure.

(performed at The Great Contender II)

am i?

do not stereotype
do not expect
do not assume
do not predict
do not conclude
do not anticipate
with outlined bullets
as if you've got me all figured
just
don't
stupify me

await my glory

Poetry by Charisse 'Chung' Padilla © All rights reserved.

Charisse Padilla Poetry is licensed under a
Creative Commons Attribution-Noncommercial-No Derivative Works 3.0 Philippines License

Lest I Depart
(performed at Ricco Renzo Gallery for The Great Contender)
(Note: i changed the original title)


you kill me with your veneration
you got me into the guillotine of criterion
a lid on the major morsel of me
why do you tranquilize my bohemian soul?

fucking standards

enough of this visceral casting-call

i choose no one
neither you
nor you

i am
in the business
of losing love

Poetry by Charisse 'Chung' Padilla © All rights reserved.

Charisse Padilla Poetry is licensed under a
Creative Commons Attribution-Noncommercial-No Derivative Works 3.0 Philippines License

Bale

   batid mo ba?
ang marahang pag-ingit
mga kurbang balisa
sulyap sa siwang
ng makasariling kabaliwan
hapong-hapo
hubog kong masidhi
   kinakabog
   pumipintig

   nahuhulog
sa bawat kabig ng palad mo
na dahan-dahang kumakanti
saking pagkababae
pero ako..

   ako'y isang
impokritang puntod
banal-banalan sa puti
talipandas kong katuturan
binuhay kita upang mamatay
   ako'y duwag
   talipandas
   duwag.

Poetry by Charisse 'Chung' Padilla © All rights reserved.

Charisse Padilla Poetry is licensed under a
Creative Commons Attribution-Noncommercial-No Derivative Works 3.0 Philippines License

The beauty of uncertainty is that it motivates us to seek certainty. We are compelled to replace doubt with conviction, to replace confusion with clarity, to be more fearful of old ideas instead of new ones. Nothing is more disparaged than the person who is lost, hesitant, and anxious. Yet the true path to fulfillment comes from these conditions. Uncertainty becomes truly beautiful when connected with the certainty that there is a better life beyond the life that is known. The artist, scientist, entrepreneur, athlete, and traveller: all embrace uncertainty as their muse. What is going to happen next is more enticing than what is happening now. The thrill of anticipation, the mystery of the unknown, the open road, mistakes as portals of discovery, the inevitability of change, purpose from chaos, questions leading to answers, failure as the threshold of knowledge. All of these conditions inform the life of the adventurer, the human being who is engaged in becoming. The beauty of uncertainty is that it prepares us to embrace life in the face of death. Allows us the strength to deal with the freedom to choose. To willingly exchange the fear of uncertainty for the security of certainty is to admit defeat. To surrender to the fear of actually living your life. Nothing moves forward except by the craving to seek certainty from uncertainty.

Brian Hendricks
HOBO Magazine 

photo by Erving Go

Masculine pelvic
Gyrating slowly
Slithering to the fore

You maneuvered me

Pumped me

Enthralled me

With your

treacherous smile

Unrelenting charm

Latex flavored words

Candy coated lies

Low voice lead on

Lecherous paws

Stroking all over poking

More and more

Your body worked on me

Like a beautiful

Piece of machinery

Rapids of your intense thrust

An opera of croon and moan

Soft velvety rush

Heavily panting

Beads of sweet sweat

Pleasure and pain textures

Beware…

Beware

Of the flirt panther

. . . .

My moist body lies forlorn

This was just a game

Nothing more

Poetry by Charisse 'Chung' Padilla © All rights reserved.

Charisse Padilla Poetry is licensed under a
Creative Commons Attribution-Noncommercial-No Derivative Works 3.0 Philippines License