Author. Poet. Actor. Playwright. Director.
Seven billion people on the planet.
Only I have the privilege
of hearing your snores up close,
telling me you feel safe
in my arms.
Nothing else matters
but your steady breathing,
your arms wrapped around me,
protecting me from a world
falling apart at the seams.
And we can sleep together
all day;
it will still be
the most worthwhile use
of my time.
A Safe Place to Snore
26 October 2024
My years flew by so swiftly, yet the journey of getting here seemed long and unfruitful. I feel I tired myself out trying harder than I ought, stretching wide and reaching for glimmer that turned out to be glints of cheap gold. What have I acquired but trinkets and piles of paper filled with dreams that may remain dreams until I fall into the deepest sleep? What do I do with all these words that hardly make a dent in this thick membrane of noise suffocating my world with endless muttering?
By half the world’s standards, I am young. Yet I feel the strain in my limbs at every turn. I do not wish to be younger. I only wish I could hold on to my senses for longer. Or rather, that they don’t abandon me too soon. I know there are yet some silver threads in the sky, if not gold, to wait for. But I am tired. And I ache from restless hours, and I long for time. Though sometimes I wish for all of it to end sooner.
But then, I met you in the passage. You’re still here. And I am reminded that I did not get here alone. Suddenly, the cheap glimmer turns into an aurora too beautiful for my eyes that they can’t but sing their gratitude in tears. I am reminded that in the midst of it all, there is kindness. I do not need to fear what I know to be inevitable.
And these piles of paper didn’t turn out to be meaningless, after all, because you’ve given them the honor of your gaze. The thought of tomorrow exhausts me to no end. But it is of much lighter weight, with your smile hanging at the corner of my eyes.
If anyone should ask what my mumbling is for, I thank you for taking these words into consideration. They are now in your hands.
This July!!! I will be at the Patrons of the Arts: Originals, where I will be showcasing my artwork and original merchandise. It will be my very first art market event, so I hope you can come and support me!
You can also get copies of my poetry books, “Garden of Dreams” and “You Send Me to the Stars.”
Please join me at Centris Elements on July 6-7 (Sat-Sun) from 10 am – 8 pm. More details coming soon!
~
Patrons of the Arts (POTA) is a platform for art creators and consumers. Empowering Filipino Artists.
Visit their page below:
We climbed the narrow stairways
to the city of spirits
with the winding alleyways
of little shops and rooms filled with teas.
The sky was blue, but above us
were bright balls of red
lit with gold and yellow lights
that glowed across the roads and spread.
My feet were sore, but up we went
to more flights of stairs,
and on the landing, we were read
our fortunes by some unknown friends.
Familiar tunes played, and all around
were faces we have seen
from stories we have known together
on the big and little screens.
By twilight, we were comforted
by soft, frozen sticky treats
topped with peanuts to the brim;
we were far removed from grim.
And all the little huts were filled
with trinkets, trims, and gems.
We wanted them all in our luggage home,
and take we did and on we roamed.
The moon was peeking at the turn
to the colorful emporium
where music played for weary tourists
who wanted a piece of the magic.
As we picked our last keepsakes,
I saw you smiling with your eyes.
Grief was far, and in my heart,
you brought me right back to the start.
It was quiet on the bus
as we looked out to bid farewell.
And even now, we see it all;
by and by, we’ll heed its call.
Tourists in the City of Spirits
February 24, 2024
I’ve ascertained the exact point
in time
when everything that ever brought
wonder and awe into this world
was in my hands.
The moment
summed up in a sigh;
the nod before I almost
drifted
into dreams,
I saw it.
Your hand in mine,
and the sound of nothing
but our breaths.
All was clear.
The culmination
of all the sweat we’ve sweated
while apart,
in that moment,
I saw how foolish
my fears were.
There is nothing stronger
than the force
that becomes us
if we but stop to recognize it.
The highways come
to a standstill.
The railways bend
and air traffic halts
at the sight of our silhouette.
Don’t fret.
I have seen the inside
of the particles
that convinced us we are matter.
I saw the colors
of the subatomic spaces
between us,
and I guarantee
we are brighter than the stars.
We’re everywhere.
You and I,
we are the universe.
And we will always
find our way
back to that sigh.
The Colors of the Subatomic Spaces Between Us
December 23, 2023
Sometimes, passion is wrapped
around silence.
And fervor is weaved into the veins
of steady breathing.
There is music in the stillness,
and love
in quiet conversations
about the affairs of the day.
The comings and goings
of the familiar,
and the multitudes
of sighs, grunts, and huffs
about the world outside.
Broken only
by the divine moments
of little pecks,
an embrace so tight
until the other dozes off.
Afternoons of nothings
with the beloved
are adventures into the realm
of their thoughts.
We travel through connection,
learning how they want their sheets
draped around their body;
the exact volume
of white noise
that makes them comfortable.
Merrily, we swim
into the waters we learn
to call home,
where we drop our anchors
in every sweet return.
Every Sweet Return
October 26, 2023
If I could bottle
the entire universe
to show you the magnitude
of your touch’s impact
on everything that breathes
when it lands on me,
perhaps you will understand
how the colors
in the visible spectrum
came to be,
and how
those still unseen
somehow appear
in humanly wavelengths
when you smile.
🌏
Who could name them
but the angels
who witness their nature;
how they collide and form
new hues
yet unknown
each time a sigh
escapes your breath?
And how the warmth
from your body
creates life
in dying soils.
They told me the name
by which they call you,
known to no other.
🌏
But the universe
and all the colors—seen
and unseen
in the physical spectrum
would not suffice
to show you how your presence
creates the ripples
of love
undulating in the tiniest
quarks…How necessary,
how urgent
your heartbeats are
to hold the world
as we know it
together.
🌏
If I Could Bottle the Entire Universe
September 28, 2023
Listen
to what the water tells you
when it sates the parched
parts of your soul,
when you think the world
has left you
and the leaves begin
to fall.
To the ticking sound
the clock makes,
every breath you still
sustain,
and the thumping
in your chest
that sends life out
to your veins.
Count
the dewdrops in the morning
when you first greet
the sun,
how it affirms your right
to take up space
in the world from which
you run.
There are mountains
far from view
that you think has none
to do with you,
but they keep the earth
from crumbling
and from washing over
you.
‘Tis the language
of the silent; what they speak
when you can’t hear.
Listen to her sighs
every time you are near.
They say all you need to know
when you feel the dread
humming low.
September 15, 2023
My second poetry collection, Garden of Dreams, is now available as a Kindle eBook! You may place your orders via the link below. Your copy will be delivered to your Kindle device, tablet, and/or mobile phone.
I appreciate your support!
Natalia Go’s second poetry collection, Garden of Dreams, talks about resurfacing from the thick, menacing silence of a well, past the cold, damp walls, and into a garden where light meets dreamers. It includes sonnets and poems turned into songs.
She gave me two little bow ties
topped with pesto;
from her fork to my mouth,
it was delightful
and fragrant
like her hair after a shower.
I giggled
and she laughed, not knowing
how much that gesture meant to me.
For it was then time stopped
in our little corner
against the wall
of the Italian restaurant
we both adore.
It wasn’t the first time
she fed me so sweetly
her food and soul.
It wasn’t the first time
the crowd froze
as we gazed
ever so briefly
into each other’s eyes.
But it might have been the first
I’ve confirmed
what my heart already knows
of what her heart knows.
Beyond words; beyond
sweet nothings
and late-night conversations
about everything moving and still
around the planets and the stars.
Beyond truth
is truth
of the highest kind.
The kind that makes you certain
a laugh is not a laugh,
but a confession
of words coveted
but said
in the profoundest of fashions.
Like a cappuccino
that needs no sweeteners
for the cup is pure.
She is the North Star
not of my own decisions
but of the universe’s.
Her smile governs
the obedience and alignment
of masses big and small
in the sky.
They expand because of the years
she has yet to share
with this pale world,
to keep time stretching
beyond its limits
and keep objects in check
of their shapes and forms.
And every particle
knows its name and identity
because the world has learned hers.
Because I learned hers.
Because the World Has Learned Her Name
July 2, 2023
