chrlsmsrg

[chrlsmsrg]

bridge-by-the-river-Pasig

now I let it flow upon the sea polaroids that aren’t yet, laughter over hot, spilled noodles wiping spittle from your lips at five in the morning. now I let it fall unto the waves bitter tides wash down mildewed moss of your laughter breakfast bacons that never were smile breaking upon the riptide as the camera pans to your brows now I let it ebb unto this December night upon a bridge-by-the-river-Pasig rampaging steel creek underneath siren songs of iron and fumes I let it flow, I let it ebb. I let it go.

Quezon City, December 2023

[chrlsmsrg]

plastic barriers on a major roadway

I can hear your voice still    lens-clear uhms and giggles    amidst the shrill screams of horns       every pothole, small stray stones       skidmarks of burnt rubber warm still is the seat-cover    branded hot by the soul-memory    of your thighs I should have drowned in the choking fumes of a sea of steel    had I known that    if I took yesterday's ride       we could have sat       on the same bus aisle before it became a roadside ruin. Quezon City, December 2023

[chrlsmsrg]

lunchtime habang nasa planning session

sino ka?    mukhang walang pangalan,    pangalang walang mukha. sa ilog na inuukit sa ugat, gabi-gabing ungol at tilaok ng manok.

ganito, ganito.

ano ang uhaw ng patay?    inumin ang pulang    sakramento sa katawan,    banal na mantika

ganito, ganito

'pag tinanong ko ang labi mo kung ano ang halaga ng bukas at dugo    kung ano ang alat ng buwan       kung ano ang liwanag sa alas sais ng gabi       sa kongkretong kuweba. ang sagot: halik, kape, awit. dumm-dumm. dumm-dumm.

ganito, ganito. Quezon City, December 2023

[chrlsmsrg]

telco cables

decrepit thread conspiring with the old concrete pole in cha-cha charade as a telephone cable snaps under the weight of ten thousand angry sparrows copper wires fall; tropical snow on homeowners' watches Bulacan, October 2023

[chrlsmsrg]

hingang malalim

at ibuga ang hangin mula pa kagabi sa mga ngipin mong naggigitgitan na pinunlaan ng gisadong karne.

langhapin nang husto ang sterilisadong laman-loob ng kotse, at sa isang matamlay na pagguhit ng kamay gawing salamin ang bangkaroteng telebisyon.

binubulong sa'yo ng mga kathang-isip mo sa pag-ungot at kumakarerang maliliit na paa.

anong gusto nating marating? wala. saan ang panapos? sa wala.

humarurot ka sa kalsada tinahak ko ang madamong padyakan at sa dulo ng buwan ay humantong tayo sa magkaparehong lugar, sa magkalayong pook ilang minutong kulog ang layo, ilang pugada.

naintindihan mo ba? siguro'y hindi. may kulubot pa rin ang mga kumot nangisay; nag-hielong alon sa takip ng timba ng sorbetes vanilla? kung hindi, kahit 'wag na.

nasaan na ako? ah, oo, nagbibilangan tayo kung ilang segundo ang yapak ng kamay ng orasan bago tumimbre sa isang sentimetro.

hingang malalim. tatlong segundo - para sa'yo. isang martes para sa'kin.

Bulacan, January 2023

[chrlsmsrg]

handrails of a moving jeepney

I dreamt that you woke up clutching the handrails of a moving jeepney they asked if you were afraid, but you said iron is in our veins and bullets in the chest are but lead.

not much time was left, perhaps seconds everything laid still. loud. soundless. frozen smiles filled the streets, the babies danced, laughed mid-air

breakfast came as we broke our farewells at the liquid cue of molten gunfire

Bulacan, May 2022

[chrlsmsrg]

I am regret, if regret had an abomination of a soul

I am regret, if regret had an abomination of a mind, and if it were filled with the type of jealous onlooking that absorbs another's loves and lives through the hateful consumption of ill-begotten fantasies. Through mirrors I have lived a thousand lifetimes and through each death I only grow more despicable, more wretched, yet I still yearn to die, the hated creature that I am, dying with the last suckle on the teat of the earth, only to live once more bound to its bountiful breast. For this unbinding of nectar and nipple is as alien to me as happiness, only the oil and milk of frustrated love remains. But as irrevocably broken I am, I walk still, shamelessly, waiting to be trampled or beaten to submission, whatever penitence befits the sins of this current life. I am regret, if regret had an abomination of a soul, only I wish that it were not so. Bulacan, September 2021

[chrlsmsrg]

mint green

drinking paper daggers makes you bleed but there is no wound, only a raw hole large enough to poke a finger through to smear across it the essence of sleep. when liquid air contorts with blood thickening with every breath, kissing you on the neck and navel of your wispy soul and devour the singing spirit of grain like the rope which it asks you to wear hempen necklace, the paper dagger you will part your lips to welcome it this cigarette, your final jealous lover

Bulacan, September 2021

[chrlsmsrg]

liquid dreams

I have no words for the satisfaction of devouring a salty, sweaty pillow its honeyed skin oozing, dripping smoke with shrill screams and liquid dreams but it deserves this fate, this night, for it seeks to poison you with slumber, offering only old wood and blight

offer me your tears, sleeper, manacle and collar this beast, make it our sweet, bloodless dinner

Bulacan, August 2021

[chrlsmsrg]

memories of flesh

cheap wooden cupboard womb creaks, its hinges corrupted by the red your trembling hands fumbling, finding only webs and memories of flesh taint this sumptuous and delicate meat salty, sour, and rotten, and fresh and if you do suckle on this infant fruit while you still have the milk of youth we'll spend the night dancing, dear as you pour its juices on your belly, and have it soak the hole in your breast

Bulacan, August 2021

[chrlsmsrg]

Breakfast Eggs

I need garlicky crackling scrambled eggs, almost - barely - burning not golden, but raw ingots saddled in the sour rust of an old frying pan

slathered in oil and freed from its prison, specked with charred peas forgotten by the fleeting fullness from yesternight's fried rice

I prefer them crisp, withered leaves scattered on the auditorium's lawn under a grassless loam and sun-beat pine, massaged into yellow froth

there is a seaside music even to the foxtrot between brown edges and melted lard, like jeepneys singing as I heap cold rice on the platter

mother does not care for it. she prefers them bathed in the bland pipe-water of questionable iron taste - hospital white, sickly yellow

on second thought, today I'll have boiled eggs.

Bulacan, January 2021

[chrlsmsrg]

only this slave

like any pious son would have done, I knelt on cold, heavy iron pews as the echoes of footsteps faded behind twirling, the toes of my feet curling, cocooned in sea brine and salted cloth; "your sodden servant calls," I belt I groan and cry and moan for the pain, but no whip came, no whip came, only coarse laughter from my raw throat; and then I knew that this parched coast has only this slave to quench their thirst.

Bulacan, August 2020

[chrlsmsrg]

sa duyan katabi ng cactus

sinulid ng usok ang panghabi sa kumot ng dilim, kuko ng kawalan at ang sastre'y ako ang magsusuot ay ikaw

Los Baños, June 2018

[chrlsmsrg]

kth.

bulkan ang dibdib sa tarok ng pagdamdam at yayanigin ng apoy ng hinagpis hanggang butas ng karayon lalawak at lahat mangagdadaloy sa ugat na ukit sa bato hanggang ang dugo ay kukulo at titila na likidong tingga

Los Baños, June 2018

[chrlsmsrg]

lapida

mesiyas ang masa na magbangon muli sa dantaong pagluhod. ni ilan mang butil ng palay ang pagtuluin o kaya ay ang simoy ng bagong silang na tinapay sa panaderya ang maamoy ay di pagtitigilin ang pangkaraniwan sa kanyang dasal. sapagkat ang pagmulat ay apoteyotiko, at banal ang ideyang dunong sa materyal na konsekrasyon ng kanyang pagdanas. santipikasyon ang magbuhat ng armas, sagrado ang mandigma; at sa huling paghuhukom ay dadanak muli ang dugong binusilak sa nobenang pula.

Los Baños, March 2017