AIDA (ghetto term for AIDS)

***I'm out of the love atmospehere...hehe...
This poem is of new genre already...I made this at around 4:30 AM today, February 4, 2009.

**Again, hope you'll like it...

Here it is:

Night has come again
Hearts are pumping faster
Blood is flowing swifter
Into the lower region
Adjacent to the hole below
And free-falling
In between the two towers of David.

The streets are filled again
With bodies, so warm and eager
For that sense of relief
After some moments
Of instant gratification
From releasing their loads
To the open air
Or to a closed cavity.

Going out
Chat rooms are once again jam-packed
With a conglomerate of the sexes
Boys, girls, lesbians, gays, bisexuals
And the not so infamous
Straight-acting-faggots
Name it,
They all have some representatives
To wave their banner
And take a chance
For a one night of pleasure
One night of a quick
And chancy mixture
Of body fluids
Being exploded from within
In an exchange
For the inevitable possibility
Of slowly putting a knife
In their organs
Then, silently
Like the thief of the night
Will destroy
Every healthy cell
That struggles to...

...sustain their lives.

This scenario
Isn’t new to anyone
Unless you were just born today
Statistics has it
The world has been producing
Infected individuals
And every day
The digits increase
For both the aware and unaware carriers
Fighting death
Each day of their lives
Savoring each taste of air
As if it would be their last.

Where are they?
Look around
They’ve been scattered
All over the place
Some knows that they have it
But, most are still
Innocent
Or maybe
Just keeping themselves
Ignorant
With the fact
That they are infected.

They are afraid
To go out
And get tested.
Afraid of the reality
That soon
They will know
How short will their life be
How hassle will be living
Starting the day
The positive sign
Passes by their sight
On that piece of paper.

Streaming on their thoughts
Is the false and selfish notion
That living with what they do not know
Will not kill them,
And won’t certainly make a hell out of their lives.
And living with what they know
Will be synonymous to living life
Without life at all.
So, why get themselves knowledgeable
About the reality that they don’t want to believe?

Then, how about the chance of prolonging their lives?
Of saving the innocents?
Of being an instrument for change
To the millions out there
Still active with the unsafe ritual
Of lust-making.

This acquired immunodeficiency syndrome
Has the shortest incubation of six months
The longest that of ten years.
Meaning,
Symptoms appear
Six months
After unsafe sex
With an infected individual
Or may come out
As late as ten years
After such unsafe act.

The best thing to do now
Is to observe fidelity
Have regular blood work-outs
Practice safe sex.
Read more about this pandemic.
And spread the good news
That there’s a spark of life
By the use of a jacket.

One Night Only

***This poem was written last 10-05-08.


For a night
I felt the world
At its best
How I wished
I could freeze
Every second
Every passing time
Where I was in touch
With what I thought
Could just be fantasy
Drawn into canvass
And will never come to life
I was there
Sitting at the majestic bed
As I watched the jeepneys
Running like matchbox
From the 10th floor
And there he was
Talking with me
Trying to make me
Feel at home
With his presence
Our chit-chat
Went on and on
Till the only light
That illuminates the night
Were the warm radiance
Of the lampshade
And the conglomeration
Of city lights outside
That seep through
The glass window
And the ivory colored curtain.
What a perfect picture
Of a honeymoon
If only we were
Newly Weds
But, we’re just
Two strangers
Partnered by fate
During that cold and gloomy night
To make a night full of pleasure
Filled with moans
And explosion of sticky white secretions
Moments after
We were laid back
Out of exhaustion…
Then, morning came
As expected
The flag ceremony began
So, I can’t help but bite
And take a bunch
Of my meaty
And sumptuous breakfast in bed
Finally
Time has come
For our goodbyes
I took a bath
To feel the water
Of Marco Polo
Returned his clothes
And put on mine
I bid farewell
And so he did
We thanked each other
I went out
And our...

...one night stand ended…
…But wait, it didn’t end
…For me
Though for him
I believe it did
I felt something for him
I can’t say it’s love
But, it isn’t lust, as well
I believe it’s more than that
I was caught off guard again
By my vulnerability
To thoughtful acts
So here I am
Suffering to the product
Of my susceptibility to romance
Torturing myself
With the thoughts
Of wanting him badly
By my side…
How I wish
I could learn the skill
Of sticking to the
No strings attached feeling
Cos’ in the end
It’ll always be me
Crying out for love
And affection…
From someone
Whom I can just call
A sexual partner…
And no more…