Musings on Heartbreaks and City Lights

We hang our heads to watch the stars below

Because the city night sky is empty.

Someone must have taken them all, you know?

Cast them down to earth for you and me.

But the stars on the ground don’t shine as much

As the ones that once lit up the night sky.

Still, our souls intertwine and our hearts touch,

Like meeting each other for the first time.

Sand is slipping quickly through our fingers.

We know of no goodbye; only hello.

The shadow of yesterday still lingers;

We grasp at fragments, afraid to let go.

The stars beneath our feet no longer glow.

But I know the sun will rise tomorrow.

-Nocturnal Scribe

This blog is protected by the Philippine Copyright Law, Republic Act 8293.

None of the posts in this blog may be reproduced or copied—either completely or partially—in any forms or by any means without permission in writing to the Author.

© Nocturnal Scribe, 2016

Musings on Romantic Gestures

He gave me a single, short-stemmed rose today:

a plastic one—but a rose all the same.

The fabric petals were discolored red;

frayed at the corners, with several loose threads.

The plastic green stem was crooked and old;

the dusty, veined leaves resembled mold.

It was a pitiful sight—obviously cheap:

something you could easily buy at the street.

But being the poet that I am,

and being the poet that he is,

I was hoping for a poetic explanation for this.

Perchance something along the lines of:

“When this withers, so will my love.”

But instead, all he said (which cannot be ignored)

was, “Darling, forgive me. This is all I could afford.”

-Nocturnal Scribe

This blog is protected by the Philippine Copyright Law, Republic Act 8293.

None of the posts in this blog may be reproduced or copied—either completely or partially—in any forms or by any means without permission in writing to the Author.

© Nocturnal Scribe, 2014

Musings on Teen Pregnancy

They say it's to be expected, that it's the norm.
But I urge you, friends: do not conform.
Let us preserve our self-respect
And keep our integrity intact.

Where is the joy in the diploma you hold
when a fetus is growing inside of your womb?
Where is the pride in marching on stage
when you have a child to support with your minimum wage?
Where is the honor in graduating with honors
when you have a husband that has you encumbered?
Where is the success in all you've achieved
when your tears are wasted on regrets that you grieve?

There are consequences to the choices you make,
so I urge you, friends: be willing to wait.

-Nocturnal Scribe

This blog is protected by the Philippine Copyright Law, Republic Act 8293.

None of the posts in this blog may be reproduced or copied—either completely or partially—in any forms or by any means without permission in writing to the Author.

© Nocturnal Scribe, 2012

Musings on a Friend

We have far too many inside jokes
than I can bother to count. To a
passerby's ears, we communicate
in fluent Klingon, spoken with a
heavy Maritess accent. Yoh noh
na. Dat ting, tu fas, lah. Gitopmi.
This may be the closest I've ever
been to someone—and it's probably
because I am sitting next to you.
They say we have our own world.  If we
really did, then it would be filled with
secondhand paperbacks and tolkons,
and the only discomfort one would
feel is a laughter-induced headache.

-Nocturnal Scribe

This blog is protected by the Philippine Copyright Law, Republic Act 8293.

None of the posts in this blog may be reproduced or copied—either completely or partially—in any forms or by any means without permission in writing to the Author.

© Nocturnal Scribe, 2012

Musings on Rejection

You should have gotten used to this by now.
You share the same name, you share the same fate.
So why should this come as a surprise to
you? You should have expected something like
this to happen again.  Pipe dreams only
bring aching desolation, and tears are
a sign of callowness and frailty.  So
let the wind pass and dry your cheeks because
feigning joy and repressing your sorrow
is the only acceptable response
expected of you.  Walk on by, you who
share the same name and the same fate, and quell
all your expectations and hopes because
you should have gotten used to this by now.

-Nocturnal Scribe

This blog is protected by the Philippine Copyright Law, Republic Act 8293.

None of the posts in this blog may be reproduced or copied—either completely or partially—in any forms or by any means without permission in writing to the Author.

© Nocturnal Scribe, 2012

Musings on Introversion

Eloquent are your thoughts.
You could spend hours on end
in content solitude
without ever feeling
even the slightest tug
of ennui. Yet those thoughts
of yours rarely translate
well into words.  They seem
to find the confines of
your mind much too pleasant.
Or do you fear judgment?
Whenever you attempt
to voice your ideas,
they scatter in the wind.

-Nocturnal Scribe

This blog is protected by the Philippine Copyright Law, Republic Act 8293.

None of the posts in this blog may be reproduced or copied—either completely or partially—in any forms or by any means without permission in writing to the Author.

© Nocturnal Scribe, 2012

Musings on Things I Learned this Summer

Though the salty tides may rise and fall,
the beach will never run out of sand.
Though the weather can be insanely
bipolar, the sky is poetry.
Though you may find the view plain, keep in
mind that each landscape has a story
to tell. Give it a chance to tell you.
Though the stars look enchanting tonight,
attempting to count them without a
friend can be depressing and futile.
Though the path may not always be smooth,
walking barefoot is an adventure.
Though the flowers may wither and fade,
God never ceases to amaze me.

-Nocturnal Scribe

This blog is protected by the Philippine Copyright Law, Republic Act 8293.

None of the posts in this blog may be reproduced or copied—either completely or partially—in any forms or by any means without permission in writing to the Author.

© Nocturnal Scribe, 2012

Musings on How it Must Feel to be in Love

Love, hasten your footsteps to me
so I may know how it feels to
float on air and be on cloud nine;
so I may know how it feels to
be weak in the knees and to have
butterflies in my stomach; or
have my heart break into a sprint
at the very thought of him, or
blush and stutter in his presence;
so I may at last be able
to declare that all the love songs
finally make sense to me. But
I don't think I'm ready for that.
So hasten not, love. Take your time.

-Nocturnal Scribe

This blog is protected by the Philippine Copyright Law, Republic Act 8293.

None of the posts in this blog may be reproduced or copied—either completely or partially—in any forms or by any means without permission in writing to the Author.

© Nocturnal Scribe, 2012

Musings on Waiting

With coffee orbs transfixed on the dimming
horizon, she listens to the sound of
the sea's laughter and the breeze's ballad.
Toes buried in sand, she sits Indian-style
and waits as her night hair flaps in night air.
She waits for the sound of footsteps on sand,
and the sound of her name on his soft lips.
She waits for him to sit next to her so
she can rest her head against his shoulder
and intertwine her cold fingers through his.
But her hands are empty and she's alone,
and no one knows that she is there, waiting.
So she idly lets sand run through her hand
and continues to wait for him to come.

-Nocturnal Scribe

This blog is protected by the Philippine Copyright Law, Republic Act 8293.

None of the posts in this blog may be reproduced or copied—either completely or partially—in any forms or by any means without permission in writing to the Author.

© Nocturnal Scribe, 2012

Musings on a Missed Friend (2)

The crickets are serenading me
while I unconsciously bite on my
already short fingernails, even
though I've been told countless times not to.
I listen to their song in silence.
A white butterfly grabs my focus,
and I watch it glide through the night air
and disappear among white flowers.
I wish you were here beside me so
I could tell you about what I saw,
and tell you how cool it was of God
to create colors and camouflage,
and how awesome it was of Him to
teach the crickets how to serenade.

-Nocturnal Scribe

This blog is protected by the Philippine Copyright Law, Republic Act 8293.

None of the posts in this blog may be reproduced or copied—either completely or partially—in any forms or by any means without permission in writing to the Author.

© Nocturnal Scribe, 2012

Musings on a Missed Friend (1)

Gazing up at the vast, night sky as
I listen to Alison Sudol
sing about picking apples from trees,
I attempt to count the stars I see.
They seem to be a lot brighter here,
looking like glitter on a black sheet.
Then my thoughts gravitate towards you,
and I suddenly wish you were here
sitting next to me on this front porch.
Maybe you could help me number these
stars, because there's just too many of
them for me to count alone. Then we
could sing along in off-key voices
and talk about the song and the stars.

-Nocturnal Scribe

This blog is protected by the Philippine Copyright Law, Republic Act 8293.

None of the posts in this blog may be reproduced or copied—either completely or partially—in any forms or by any means without permission in writing to the Author.

© Nocturnal Scribe, 2012

Musings on Love Handles

"Bilbilo'ng Gugma"

Ang ako'ng gugma para kanimo,
susama sa ako'ng bilbil.
Bisa'g unsaon naku ug hiyak,
bisa'g unsaon naku ug tago, ug
bisa'g unsaon naku ug pugong,
dili jud kini siya
mahiyak, matago ug mapugngan.
Musugwak jud kini siya ug magpakita.

Ang ako'ng gugma para kanimo,
susama sa ako'g bilbil.
Kay tulo kini siya ka hut-ong,
sama sa usa ka pagoda sa mga Insik.
Ug ang buot pasabot niini kay,
"I love you."

-Nocturnal Scribe 

This blog is protected by the Philippine Copyright Law, Republic Act 8293.

None of the posts in this blog may be reproduced or copied—either completely or partially—in any forms or by any means without permission in writing to the Author.

© Nocturnal Scribe, 2012