The coming of war chariots

it was almost 15 years ago when i last saw
the bluest sky of manila
the buses then did not resemble the war chariots they are today
nor is the mud after the rainstorm
the sludge that it is now
the sky then was empty
like an imaginative nirvana
i was 5 years old then

it was almost the same sky a year ago
when rusty heaven stroke your cheeks
with the rouge you never used
you were asleep
and so i thought that you must be searching
for the most prosaic explanation
why in our own poetic versions of imaginative nirvana
do we feel the coming of emptiness
how did our sky
drift into the shadows of war chariots
scorched like dying brimstone

the sky is full of smog tonight
that filled my head with the madness of war chariots
so i drift into the shadows
into emptiness
poetic like the imaginative nirvana of your memory

where i shall wallow in the slidge
under the same sky
waiting to be trampled by war chariots

Shadow eater

by paolo macariola

Ours is a dangerous hunger
that feeds
on the shadows that linger
within the unnamed creases of the body

carelessly
we descend into the doom
breathing in the shadows
of our bodies' unnamed creases
with nothing else in mind
but to feed

we remain breathless by sunrise
exhaling
hand in hand
we surrender back into the light
we collect whatever darkness remain in us
and guiltily tuck back
our own shadows

The poets unsent postcard

by paolo macariola

here is the country
where i was born
where there are storms most of the time
and where we observe the passing of months
counting sunsets
here is a country of war, of schizo priests and dead journalists
where statues of virgins
are worshiped on the streets
the devout leaving their homes barren of food for the children
here is a country of torn jungles
where the origin of man
is the trunk of a tree
where there are shamans and witchdoctors,
where saints and soothsayers never differ
here is a country of rain forests and seashores
of saints and superstition
of guns and schizophrenia

this was your country too,
where loved ones leave through the horizon
and poets die waiting for airplanes
by the sunset

Sepia, grain and old movies

by paolo macariola

you are just like a mirage now
blurred at a certain moment
but vividly clear the next
i watch you
slowly appear and disappear
to the rhythm of flickering screenlights
you are there
like a transluscent curtain
in front of a fast talking yellowish movie
and slowly
as i inhale another pound of poison from my menthol lights
i notice your apparition blur
not only from the residue of my habitual smoking
but also from the haze of my foggy persona
and as the smoke thinned out
the way it should
as seen in old tagalog movies
you disappear
unexplainably fading out with no credits
no applause
no popcorn
just a sepia tone
that has lingered in this room
yellow enough
to be mistaken for the nicotine stains
in my fingernails
from sleepless nights
of smoking soggy cigarettes

Kitil

i wrote this at a time i hated my mom so much... its kinda personal though

"Kitil"

by paolo macariola

sa luob ng isang sementadong drum
mananatili ang aking pinagpirapirasong katawang
hindi na muling lilisan
dito sa kanyang kinandadong libingan

ikaw ina ang kumitil sa aking kaluluwang buhay pa man
ay nakakulong na sa isang selyadong drum

dito sa aking huling hantungan
ay di na muling titibok
dinaluyan na ng sementong
hinalo pa ng mapagmahal na kamay ni ina

dito sa aking sementadong hantungan
sa luob ng selyadong drum

Menthol Lights

Menthol Lights
by paolo macariola

Hinubog ko ang usok
para doon makita
ang maganda mong mukha
at humithit muli
para maramdaman
ang paghagod ng lamig
na nakakapagpaalala sakin ng inyong ngiti
namula lalo ang baga
na tulad ng iyong mga palad
ay papaso lamang sa akin
ang pag iisip sayo
ay katulad ng paninigarilyo
na ang pangako lamang ay sakit

"mortido"

this is about death or wanting to die

"mortido"
by paolo macariola

ngayon ako ay paulit ulit na matutulog
mananaginip
at matutulog muli
papunta sa mas malalim pang panaginip
sa mas malalim pang pagtulog

doon ko gagawing haigaan ang mga ulap
at ilalim ng lupa
ang liwanag at dilim
ang langit at impyerno
doon ako muling mahihiga
sa mga malalim na panaginip
ng ilan daan pang panaginip

ngayon
ako ay paulit ulit na
matutulog
mananaginip
matutulog
mananaginip
paulit ulit

masilaw man sa liwanag
o kainin ng kadiliman
sunugin man ng impyerno ang mga ulap
malunod man sa bulate itong langit

akoy patuloy na mananaginip
sa mga ulap man o sa ilalim ng lupa
sa liwanag o dilim
langit at impyerno
paulit ulit