A Baguio poem

Dandelions over the damp hills
Of wild grasses and herbs,
A view that replenishes the heart
With fresh and youthful sensation.

Over the mountains are pine trees
That absorb the warmth of the sun
To regulate the cool air underneath,
To chill a little bit the living below.

Some valleys that filled with blooming coffee
Have some rivers of sweet fragrance through,
Warming the spirit within the morning cold,
And keeping the night up until the slumber.

Pinikpikan over the folks’ table
Is the savor of delight during meal time.
Though, for health it is not always served.
Yet, still being craved for when remembered.

The green sayote staple.
Consumed in many different ways,
Why don't I see a slice on a local chop suey?
Anyway, it is better with fish sauce alone.

The central business district as thoroughfare
For local residents and visitors alike,
The hub for human and machine activities
And also the place where to sit and relax.

129 sub-localities all over the place.
Expanding, thickening, the population increasing.
The people in the city are the city builders,
And what they are is the city in its unique way.

Yet, the city of pines is a melting pot of cultures
That made it adorned fay maiden of the north;
And it is the grand nature that influences the builders
Which makes Baguio dictates what shall she be

Nocteopsis

Clothed with times
the world has gone through.
Palliated with understanding;
must be an approach made today.
Returning back to find glitches
to pick the lessons for the future.
And it is to set a mind of reason
is the fulcrum of things.

Living in the night
is not drinking on blackened water.
It is if night is for sleep and rest,
then thought can be a peaceful firmament.
Too, it is the time the world dreams
for another day’s stirs and strife;
and like water that seek its level,
the day reveals colors and boldness
while night shows lights and hopes.



In this world of human race,
misfortunes happen to cultivate minds
Fostering love among the scattered
that in the darkened places, unity blooms.
Glory from the unseen profound virtues
are justified at the other side of the book,
that shall either way stoically accepted
in the air of indifference and functionality

Calypsopam

I dreamt of you
At the center of the tides,
With closed tranquil eyes
And satisfied lips
On your pale shy face,
Expressing deep love
And great compassion.

This ocean, your home,
Is a depot of tears, yet,
You knew that every tear
Is a smile in the sun…
…Then I woke up suddenly
On one frozen morning
Chilled before the waking sun.

The cantruptist

I see a night songbird
in the breaking of the day;

A child of the moonlight,
a stranger to the morning;

He sings notes of pale hue
and haunting tones of wail;

Un-blinded and taught by night,
he is drifting on his benighted voice;

He is a glinting star in the night
and night songbird in the morning.

Flameship

You wake upon the morning sun
Only to find the way an endless path,
Everyday is life's journey
And you're going home with your torch.
As you consume time with life
Shall you find things are brief
But the knowledge you obtained is
A flame hoped to burn forever.
Magnify it in love and wisdom
To illuminate the way beyond the sky.
Life is light that burns like a flame,
It is your ship to the promised land
As you're promised to live an everlasting life
One with the great Immortal Light.

Pine trees of Baguio

pine trees of baguio,

cleaners of the city air,

the providers of oxygen,
the givers of life.



landscape foliage makers,
pasted mysteriously in the eyes
with remarkable nature's scent,
will fill the visitors' memories.

without you,
baguio is not baguio..
was it named after the weed,
yet, you symbolize the place.

your delightful melody,
now in grieving decrescendo..
yet, the people hug you sing, still,
for your delightful song of life.

primal scream..

hello world!