It's a volleyball thing I can't live without!!!

Wa koy sala
(In response to Ioannes Maria Vianney Arong's Jolayva)


Sa kanunay
kung ang katigulangan
pay pasultihon,
walay sukod sa gaba.
Kung sauna,
sa akong kalinghod
matag hinapsanay,
nga bisag unta
kada lagubo's  bola
sa salog unta
mukuyapa,
ari gyud tawn
sa akong nawong
mutugpa,
bilin ang kangul-ngol,
gapirat-pirat nga mga
luha,
hilabi na ang kauwaw.
Og karon,
ayaw kog pangutan-a
kun gi-unsa nako siya,
sala ba diay
nga sa matag pailob ko,
takna na usab arun
ako napud ang mupabuto?
Wa ko'y sala,
angay to kaniya,
kay di lalim magpapilit
sa imong nawong sa kainit,
arun imong masinati
ang talagsaong kastigu
ni noy Niño.

Asaynment

-->Cyril

"Ma, gai kog sinsiyo
mag internet ko,
naa me asaynment."
"Dia dong, palihug
iuli lang ang sukli kay
ipalit nato nag
sud-an."
Human mukuot, toa,
ang tiil nga nanggilok
karon kamot nay
gipalitok sa
pagpindot-pindot,
pagkataud-taud,
ang siyagit sa batang
gigutom nga kakan-onon
napud og piso.
Mipauli, pagkaabot,
"Dong, asa namang sukli?"
wa kalitok,
tuk-an pangitag lusot.
"Sige, sige,
iapil nalang sad
sa imong asaynment
atong paniudto."

chances are,,,,

by Cyril

how will i set
my music to verses,
when the pain
slowly stabbs ennui?

how will these songs
be made to sing,
when the plucking,
string, sounds deaf?

how will i set,
how will these be made to sing,
when the verses, the pluckings,
only echoed dreaming,
runnin'.

Isn't it harsh to be damped twice in a row?

Martyr

What is it
when enough means more?
when the pale,
filled every morning
upon your turn
cries with emptiness
and solitude,
demanding she wants more,
more of the talks,
the laughs,
the smiles, and
when stepping backward,
gleams
a pinch of joyful
scorn,
endearing,
you know you'll
need more.

vague words,,))

by Cyril

you confess,
I'd listen.
you confess,
I'd listen,
hear you sayin'.
you confess,
I'd listen,
hear you sayin',
my eyes not blinkin'.
you confess,
I list,
saying,
blinkin',
then I'd confess,
I mind, if,
you would
listen.

between you and I, thirst stares at high noon..D.

My ideal girl

I wish I had a long,
straight, brown hair,
like yours, that flips
his world whenever i'm
near, as it sways,
caught him in a ride
to fate he could only
imagine.
I wish to be the music,
the songs you're
singing, that until
his deafness, the melody
is there audible
than night
whispers.
I wish, I walk, pose,
and it answers a
melancholic view of an
I-don't-want-to
figure in a quadrant,
a grin is there,
the hair,
your song,
you sing,
behind,
is your shadow,
how dysfunctional
I'm becoming.

---->layris

The unbreakable vow

You're too young
for a one so old,
childish in a way,
when you had me,
asked to copy
the vague words
formed by your lips,
to seal,
the rotten, ripen treasure
that break lose,
smells faintly
one afternoon
out of your own,
very peculiar version
of clumsiness,
I just guffawed
proving my instinct
was right
as you were caught
assuming,
then you'd insist again
to play your game.
You're my confidant,
you whisper,
and i'm afraid,
ever had any idea
what it means?
clueless, not until,
bell rings,
chased by the
unmoved creature
that frightens the
moon,
leaving,
the pact made
on an empty
bench.