Poems of LOVE: The Second Time Around

Love is defined generally as a string bind with commitment, acceptance, affection and pleasure. Today, for the modern generation, it is blinded with infatuation and sometimes the representation of the latter becomes worse. In my case, as a member of the LGBT, it is harder than the usual. We experienced being bullied, judged, criticized and discriminated. Every one has a lot of misconception towards us. As Abraham Lincoln said in his speech entitled the Gettysburg Address, "All men are created equal." Yet, inescapable reality that we are not perfect on the sight of who look at us is still blatantly a catastrophe nowadays. Gender is just a preference. It doesn't define who we are as human. Nonetheless, gender preference is far beyond definition compare to the words "personality" and "attitude."

The first time I feel it.

I first fell in love when I was sixteen not knowing its real definition exactly. I'm gay therefore, he's a guy. (Lmao) His initials are R for the name and G for the surname. I didn't even know what that was. I only found out that I fell for him when I already started studying in college. Separation anxiety as they say. Funny I felt more the sepax on him and less for my parents. But that's the truth. I thought it was just normal. I never did anything special for him and he to me. Normal gestures, exchanged words and sometimes deep conversations about certain things. Those were the things that bound us closer. Honestly speaking, those were nothing. That's when we were fourth year high school and when I got to college, I started to feel different. We have the casual exchange of text messages though. That, I found out I fell in love for someone. It was not the usual "crush" thing when I was in elementary and early stages of high school. It felt different by all means. And because of that, I came up with a tagalog poem entitled:

"Bata pa raw ako sa PAG_IBIG"

Disesais ako noong una kong maramdaman,

Pag-ibig kung kanilang pangalanan.

Hindi ko raw kailanman ito maiintindihan.

Gulo lang raw and idudulot sa aking isipan.

Ako raw noon ay "bata pa," sabi nila.

Wala pang muwang sa pag-ibig na iniinda.

Hindi ko pa raw dapat ito inaalala.

Tamang panahon raw sa aki'y darating pa.

"Hindi ko sadya" ang tugon ko sa kanila.

Hindi ko rin sadya ang umibig ng ganito kaaga.

Pag-ibig ba'y may pinipiling edad?

O sadyang di lang ako mulat sa realidad?

Kung totoo mang pag-ibig ay isang sakit,

Lunas ba and pagpigil sa puso't isip?

Kung pag-ibig dulot ay pasakit,

Ito ba'y gagaan sa pagkitil ng sariling pintig?

Ba't hindi nyo ako hayaang maranasan

Pag-ibig kung ito'y totoo man.

Masaktan man ako dahil sa ito'y hindi normal,

Masabi ko man lang sa na "ako rin pala'y marunong ding magmahal"

That feeling actually lasted for four years. Yes, four years. We didn't even get along that much. I didn't love anyone during that four years. I graduated college in 2012 and finally I was happy that I can be able to see him. Oops, the moment I saw him, it's not the same as it was. We had constant communication during college, so I thought I was still into him. Apparently, upon seeing him and got to finally talk to him, things changed. We stay friends, good friends that is. We even talk casually. And not to an escape of the feelings I had for him, truthfully, he knew that I was into him. Even before. Well, that was the first time. Worth the experience indeed.

The second time around.

It's complicated than the previous. It's even confidential. Not for publicity. The story itself is busted. It went ferris wheel ride. A lot of ups and downs. The worst, it was still a one-sided expectation.

It was 2013 when I realized I had the thing again for someone. The love they called. I even already shared a poem about this in the previous blog. I only shared this closeted story to some of my closest friends. Those whom I can trust the negative of my own captured photos. It was not the easy and normal gay-guy relationship. What makes it more disoriented was the "relationship" didn't really exist. I was a prisoner of my own banister. I even considered it as a nightmare. It lasted for almost four years as well. My friends even told me I was not the person they knew. They had words for me to ponder but it seemed I didn't hear any of those. I cried tears. I hid the emotional subconsciousness. I did all the things that would make me better again. I find myself but didn't find in the process. Even the closest people to me, my cousins had seen the difference in me. When it gotten worst more than I think, I started to pull back, regain myself and do things right. Actually, I am still in healing process and still moving forward. Every step is a cautious gesture. Every word uttered is an irrevocable spiel. To be better and to opt myself from drowning, I have to get off of the hallucination. Hallucination that we can be together and that there is a chance to be happy with him. I have to forget everything. The intimacy, the pleasure and even the emotions. I have to cope up with things I have forgotten to do and with the people I have forgotten they exist. They are more important than my fantasy. And yes, finally and slowly, I am feeling better. Soon will be the best. And to keep you on track of the story, the poems below will do the story telling.

The poems.

Let's start when I felt the ambiance of being love and appreciated.

JOURNEY

I've traveled a lot of places

and appreciated different landmarks.

I've passed a lot of roads

and treasured every scenery.

I've met a lot of people

and encountered different attitudes.

I've seen a lot of faces

and drawn different impressions.

I've tasted a lot of food

and wondered how it is made tasteful.

I've heard a lot of music

and realized how amazing musicians are.

I've smelled a lot of fumes

and thought of creating my own scent.

I've felt in my skin the blowing wind

and learned to define what season is.

Yet, in the end I know,

this journey is worthless.

Yes, if I've not met you

and if not because of you.

"Y" completes the "journeY"

and 'Y' stands for "You."

Now, the moment I became a fool and heard nothing from friends and people who are even blood-related to me. I only heard myself this time.

"Fool for Love"

I was a fool to believe

that love does really exist.

With two hearts of the same gender,

love will never get stronger.

Too much pain will wake you up.

From friends, that's what I've got.

Too easy to say, maybe.

Only "enough" can say.

Hypocrite I am, if I say no

to an adventure that only once shows.

It's like climbing the Mt. Everest,

that makes "impossible" exist.

I am may be a fool

as what the first line said.

Then I will be a fool I thought,

until the first four lines remain only a "thought."

This next poem is about getting the chance to move on. Well, it's really hard to move on when there is nothing to move on for. Lol. I tried hearing their words this time and tried to do what they are asking me to do. "To make me better," according to them. But read the result in this poem below.

NOT YET (That morning)

That morning I woke up

with much optimism and a smile.

That morning I stood up from bed

greeting my parents with kiss and hug.

That morning I kissed my kids

and played with them for awhile.

That morning I heard a familiar voice

and ruffled me in some ways.

That morning I was so unsure

and felt my heartbeat in no rhythm.

That morning I doubted what I heard

and disturbed me at a peer.

That morning that caused me consciousness,

that morning that caused me uneasiness

and that morning I know not what to do.

It was your unforeseen appearance.

It widened an inch of my smile

but it hurt me inside when I think.

This when I realized of something.

An emotion that still, I cling.

It was a contentment somehow

for I know what I longed before.

Yet the consequence lessen the hope.

The hope that I had gotten over you.

Years passed. I was still imprisoned by the emotions. Been through a ferris wheel ride and still not gotten over him. Yes, these next poems were written just this 2017. Oops, I already told you I am still in the verge of getting up from the downfall of the past. That was the worst ferris wheel ride. It's like I am on top and the engine stops functioning and then suddenly, it breaks apart; losing my grip from the possible railings I can possibly hold on to. And it was like a film with no rewind. The worst of all worst. The three following poems define the scenario. Two are written in vernacular.

The heightened affection.

Dos Mil Dise Syete

Tuig dos mil dise syete

Pero murag walay nabag-o.

Ang akong pagbati nimo,

Nisamot hinuon pag-ayo.

Sa gisulti mong wa ka kahibawo

Kung unsa gyud tang duha,

Ako nilaom hinuon pag-ayo,

Nga kita, basin nay pag-asa.

Sa giingon mong love ko nimo,

Bahala’g atik, basta gikan kanimo.

Milaom kong naa gyud unta.

Misging gamay, ako mamahala.

Ako karon misamot kalibog.

Sa una, kini puro ra ibog-ibog.

Gugmang wa damhang muabot,

Karon, sa akong ulo sigeg pangalot.

Ang atong sitwasyon karon,

Daw mura nag exam nga lisud sabton.

Daghang pangutanang di matubag.

Sa atong gugma maoy gababag.

Pero bisan paman ug unsa,

Unta ikaw tininuod nga nahigugma

Sa ako nga dili lagi perpekto,

Pero himuon ang tanan nga ikaw maako.

The downfall.

Dalia ba... (Gugmang dose oras)

Dalia ba nahuman... Relasyong wa gilauman, Dose oras ray gidagan. Maypag gitulog nalang.

Dalia ba nahuman... Dula nga tanga-tanga, Wala na pagka-ugma. Daw ako murag gisagpa.

Dalia ba nahuman... Pulong arang katam-is, Sinuwat nalang sa lapis. Sa papel murag kuris-kuris.

Dalia ba nahuman... Gugmang atik-atik, Wa gyud niagig trapik. Rag eroplano, arang kaabtik.

Dalia ba nahuman... Nakapanguta kog ngano man? Unsa ba'y hinungdan? Akong gugma, imong gibinuangan.

The nightmare.

Real Nightmare

It was dark and faces dimmed.

Never a light that introduced them.

But when I got into the realm,

They're just the people from my own film.

That night with my fellas

was a night of casual moment share.

A night of chats and shots

is never an often nor rare.

That night with I call someone

was a night I thought would be great.

A night of excitement and fun

has turned to a notion of regret.

That night with hoisted emotions

became a night full of connotations.

Filling the silence with blatant spiels

voicing the words but no one hears.

That night when I reached home

was the the moment of worst feeling.

And when I lay, I kept my thoughts roam

ended up with my eyes weeping.

Yes, that night of acquaintance

was the night we knew someone.

But it was a surprise for an instance

for that someone was who he called,

"my only one."

That sum up the rest of the story. I know I am getting better. I know I will get better. Thanks to those people who stand with me up to this moment. Without you, I won't feel any better.

#7