V

On Self-Portraiture

I am a heavy sleeper,
and yet here I am, waking
up early in the morning
just to get the lighting right.

Early mornings fascinate me;
the pastel sky, the
roosters, and the birds
meshing together poorly and
singing together in awful damn
harmony.
I like it.
I still sleep through it.

I bring out my old Minolta,
pop open a fresh roll of film,
and give the canister a quick sniff.
They say it’s not good for you,
but I say it’s what makes a photo,
and I think it smells sweet.

Preparation usually takes much longer;
picking from a wide array of lenses,
setting up the flash unit,
mounting the right tripod,
et cetera,
et cetera.

I only have one lens for my camera,
my beloved nifty fifty portrait lens.
The sunlight is my flash unit, and
everything is my tripod.
Bare-bones set-up, you could say,
but it gets the job done,
I like it, I think.
I like it.

The sunlight hits my bookshelf perfectly.
I place a stool just in front of it,
where I would sit.
In front of me is a bed,
and there’s no place I can place my camera
in order to get that perfect shot.
Fuck.
I don’t like this.
Moving on.
Fuck.

Going up the third floor,
I see my mother’s worktable
drenched in the delicate morning light.
I stood where I would leave
my camera to take my photo.
Looking through the viewfinder,
I saw nothing but perfection.
I fix the composition,
apply the rule of thirds,
and align the lines within the frame.
All of which I’ve done with myself as the tripod.
I placed the camera on the windowsill,
where it would take my photo,
but now everything is all wrong.
Where the camera sits,
the composition
the framing, and the lines,
everything, wrong.
Fuck.
I don’t like this.
Moving on.
Fuck.

Who would’ve thought.
An opportunity for a good shot
vanishes quicker than thirty six frames.

I head to the bathroom.
Screw the lighting.
Standing before me is
a reversed version of myself.
I have yet to see myself
the way others see me,
but this is as close as I’ll get.
Not that I care or anything.
Whatever.

Being the perfect tripod that I am,
I fix the composition,
apply the rule of thirds,
and align the lines in the frame.
Ready to take the shot,
I wind the film, unsatisfied.
Wind, release, click.

Why did I even wake up
so early just to fail to get things right?
I don’t like this.
Whatever.
Good morning,
no— it’s good afternoon,
but for me, it’s good night.

i lose my voice when i look at you
can’t make a noise though i’m trying to
tell you all the right words
waiting on the right words
just another lovesick afternoon
black butterflies and déjà vu
hoping for the right words
waiting for the right words

black butterflies & déjà vu – The Maine

road to toast

next year, roast
year.
supposedly.
this year, first
year.
unfortunately.

celebrate under
the fire of your dreams.
as i write and
writhe in
the flames from
my teeth.

i don’t think i’m
enough, but i’m
always here

Dedlayn

Pebrero 9, 2017

Itinakda ng guro na ilista ang lahat ng aming nakikita sa loob at labas ng silid.
Ang panuto ay nakasulat sa pisara,
Madaling mabasa,
Ngunit mahirap intindihin
dahil sa ingay ng mga estudyante.

Ang aking paghahanap ay nagsimula sa pagsuot ng aking salamin.

Sa aking likod makikita ang mga pulang lobo na hugis puso,
Halos parang nagsilbing palatandaan kung kailan namin ipripresenta ang takdang ito,
At higit sa lahat, ang araw na iyon ang araw ng mga puso.

Sa aking kanan makikita ang dalawang pintuan na nakabukas,
Mula rito, idiniderekta ang aking mga mata patungo sa hagdanan.
Gusto ko nang umalis, ngunit hindi ako makakibo sa aking silya.
Dahil sa aking harapan, naroon siya.
Si crush,
Gumagamit ng cellphone,
nagpapalamig gamit ang pamaypay,
Tumitingin sa kaliwa-
sa mga kotse,
sa mga puno,
nakatulala,
habang ang projektor kung nasaan nakalagay ang takda
ay walang galang na bina-balewala.

Sa aking itaas makikita ang mga electric fan na sinusubukan palamigin ang napaka-init na silid.
Makikita rin dito ang ang Krus na nasa taas ng pisara.
Panginoon, tulungan niyo naman po ako sa pag-ibig na ‘to.

Pebrero 14, 2017

Nagawa ko na ang takda at handa na akong magpresenta.
Ngunit kay crush ay wala na akong napala.
Hindi ko na siya natanong,
kasi may nagtanong na pala sa kanyang iba.

Kaya pala ni isang beses hindi siya sa akin napatingin,
Kasi may nakita na siyang ibang lalaking mamahalin.

Misconceptions About the Omniscient Narrator

It is true that I know a lot,
But-truth be told-
I do not know everything.
Also, I am not invincible.

2001

,,,,,,,,,
,,,,,,,,,,,

;

I don’t remember his voice anymore.

Immortal Gwen Stacy

Falling from the sky,
Far within reach.
I miss my shots,
I miss my webs.

When all hope is lost,
And all tears are shed,
I will jump off this ledge
Not to give up,
But to catch you with my arms this time.

before i eat

Lingering thoughts
As I slurp my noodles.
Knowledge, I crave,
Sometimes, I loathe.
Another slurp of your favourite noodle.