palabas

Monday, February 16, 2009

“Isa kang anghel sa langit”

Sabi sa palabas na

pinanood ko kanina sa lobby;

Tumawa lang ako…

 

Pero ikaw sobrang natuwa;

“Ang sweet naman”

 

Magkaiba nga tayo ng mundo

Mayaman ka, mahirap

Ako

 

Gusto mo yung mga kending

pula sa tindahang bato

Gusto ko ung isaw na

itim sa baga dun sa kanto

 

Fan ka ni Nietzsche at Mao

Fan mo ako

 

Kilala ka ng lahat sa

Kolehiyo; sinudundan ng tingin  ng mga

Kaklase’t propesor mo

 

Kinang ko nama’y singsing mo lang…

 

Isang editor ng ating dyaryo na

Iniisnab basahin ng mga kabaro mo

Iilang tao lang ang kilala ako

 

Iba talaga ang mundo mo…

 

“Gusto kita”

Sabi ko sa mga mata mong

nanonood ng palabas sa lobby;

(…tinawanan niya ako)

- - - - - - - - - - - - -

© Ian Pestelos, circa 2002

kopitok

Friday, January 9, 2009

You got me
     up and running
When you asked for that coffee break tonight
You can always do that
And I am hopeful…
     waiting
     to be invited to Starbucks
     and grace you with White Chocolate Mocha
And a pack of smoke

My favorite Gingerbread Latte
     can’t compare to that nano-second
You stared at my lips
It wanted to move
     and take your breath away
 
I flirt with your eyes
     while we argue why
     Estrada was robbed of the Presidency
     by the Supreme
 Court
 
I could have handed you
     my world
But you didn’t
     stop lamenting about your frat guy
     who treats you like his Ipod
     hanging on his neck
 and his crocodile sunglassess worn at sunset
You are his trophy

I could have handed you my world
If only you chained with my
     pinky finger
     playing with your hair
 
Love they say is blind
I believe them
But I desperately wanted to open my eyes and see
That I’m not your cup of coffee.

© Ian Pestelos 2006.01.17
 

sophia

Sunday, December 21, 2008

I wrote this c. 2003.
—————————————–

Sophia entered the room

and his world, a nebular eruption

But she doesn’t notice this

because hers is a pedestal

of fame and family

Yet he still dreams of Sophia

in an ice-grounded lame surface

on the other side of her island of folly

She lives in silence, apart from his

Existence

And sophia, lost

in an unreachable

ocean of visualization

 

He lives, and smells the fresh

fragrance of the perfume

            she doesn’t wear

Maybe it’s under his nose;

He sees her kneeling in front of him

 

At the same time,

Sophia is staring at him from a distance

far away

Far from delusional thoughts:

He is patting the dog lying at his feet

in a place where once upon a time

He held her hand…

 

No pool of oblivion

Just touch of hand

His feet feeling a patch

of earth

of stones and sand;

Of only
stones and sand

 

© Ian Pestelos