Saturday, July 16, 2011

Phases on a Haiku


The midnight pulls in the remnants
of day, the moon in its fullness
it should be enough

***

The midnight pulls in the remnants
of day, you are the moon in its fullness
is here yet elsewhere, nowhere.


***

The midnight pulls back the remnants
of day, the moon in its fullness
stays, resists the turning of the hour.

***

The midnight pulls all remnants
of day, ours is the moon in its fullness
ripe between your teeth, my fingers. 


___

Saturday, July 9, 2011

Somebody aced it: "The Secret Lives of Gay Men" by Ryan O'Connell

Boys love each other like this: shirts off, blue jeans, smoking a joint in bed maybe listening to some old records. They’ll take their fingertips across each other’s chests, down arms, and almost to the penis. They’ll circle it curiously and then either go for the plunge or shy away. They’ll bury their heads into someone else’s arms and have their hair stroked. It will feel like you’re getting shampooed at some fancy salon and you won’t ever want them to stop. Boys love each other like that.
Boys love each other when they’re wrestling. It’s a thing amongst gay men. We use our aggression, beat each other up and then switch gears when we feel the need to get all tender and soft. It feels strange—switching seamlessly from physical aggression to absolute devotion and tenderness—but it’s what lives inside us. We tread those lines constantly. We want to punch you hard on the arm and then hold you tight.
Boys break down each other’s walls. It’s an exercise in patience, getting a man to surrender to you, but when they do, their body explodes with feelings. They lock themselves up and when someone finally opens the floodgates, a whole lot of everything comes out. They’re a piƱata and you’re carrying the bat.
People always seem to marvel at men who unravel and show their sensitive sides. A woman delights at seeing such a change. It’s such a victory to see a male become unchained to their machismo. When it happens between two men, however, it’s truly magnificent. The sight of two boys loving each other like they’ve been taught not to do is a revelation.
We know what you think of us. We know that there’s this image of gay men just being detached and hungry for sex. There is that. There is a lot of that. But there’s also thoughtfulness, concern, monogamy, Sunday afternoons in bed, I love you babe, I love you a lot, and you make me so happy. There’s so much of that and it’s never really talked about. It’s the secret lives of boys who love boys. Let’s blow the lid off of it, okay? Let’s expose every sweet moment, every kissed neck, every intense hand holding session. It’s super progressive to treat us like loving human beings rather than horny animals, isn’t it? So progressive.
____
original here

Sunday, July 3, 2011

Having fishbol with you

(o kung pano balahuraing-salin ang "Having a Coke with You" ni Frank O'Hara, at oo ito yung ginamit sa chick-flick na Beastly, pero alam ko na sya bago nun ah)


Having fishbol with you


mas masaya pa yun kaysa ang pumunta sa Tagaytay, Pagudpod, Antipolo, Laguna, Cebu
o ang hassle na pagsakay sa LRT1 mula Taft hanggang Monumento tuwing rush hour
marahil dahil sa uniform mong black shirt na mukha kang mas payat at seryoso
marahil dahil sa gusto kita, marahil dahil sa hilig mong humithit ng lights
marahil dahil sa mga matitingkad na bulaklak ng fire-tree sa campus
marahil dahil sa lihim na kinukubli ng ating mga ngiti sa harap ng ibang tao at mga estatuwa
di ako makapaniwala na tuwing magkasama tayo ay mayroon pang kasing payapa
kasing taimtim kasing tiyak gaya ng isang 10-talampakang Buddha samantalang sa harap nito
sa init at sikat ng alas tres ng hapon ng Maynila ay dumuduyan tayo
pabalik sa isa’t isa gaya ng isang punong sa sarili nitong pagmamalas ay humihinga


at lahat ng mga larawan tila wala silang mukha, pintura lamang
na bigla kang magtataka kung bakit pa ba sila ipininta


Tumingin ako
sa’yo at nais ko lang ang tingnan ka, kaysa ang lahat ng larawan at litrato sa mundo
except siguro ang Bench billboard ng Philippine Rugby team, yung nasa Guadalupe
at buti ‘di ka sumasakay madalas ng MRT kaya maituturo ko sa’yo ang tanging bahagi ng Pasig na kilala ko dahil naging parte ko na rin ito
at dahil sa kakatuwa mong pagkabulol nang kaunti hindi ko na iintidihin kung bakit ako tatawa
gaya ng kapag nasa bahay ako hindi ko naiisip panoorin ang Gandang Gabi Vice ni Vice Ganda
o tuwing gabi naaalala ang lupit at pagsambulat ng liwanag sa Nighthawks ni Hopper
ano ba ang silbi ng lahat ng pagphophotoshop at pagpapa-vintage ng pictures sa tumblr
gayong ‘di naman nila nagawang piliin ang tamang taong tatayo sa lilim ng puno sa takipsilim
o maging ang awit sa bangketang hindi piniling maigi ng binatang makata gaya ng kung kanino
ang boses ng tula, sa bulag ba o bingi


mukhang nadaya sila at napagkaitan ng bagay na malaki ang pagka-astig at kamangha-mangha
na hindi masasayang at mawawala sa akin ngayon, dahilan kaya naman heto’t sinasabi ko sa’yo.


___
para kay Alex Pettyfer at sa kanyang abs. Bow