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Best Poems Written by Ryan Gayagay

Below are the all-time best Ryan Gayagay poems as chosen by PoetrySoup members

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A Confession

“Guilty, Sir, if you insist that I am--
Yes, ‘twas I who cut her with a knife and
Took her heart out, so very gently while
It was beating--still beating in my palms.
From the cavity where her heart had lain
I placed it in an ornate box with care,
A vessel lined with the finest satin,
Encrusted around with glittering gems    
That shone and sparkled like her living eyes,
Which had enthralled me when she was alive. 

“What? Remorse, Sir? No, absolutely not!
With what I did, I am most satisfied.
Know, Sir, that she had promised me her heart
When we were young and very much in love--
This love we nurtured, as seasons went by
And yearly sealed in sincere assurance,
Till she slowly became cold and distant,
Not speaking a word, till through circumstance,
She confessed that someone else had her heart, 
So I--I took what was pledged to be mine.

“Where, Sir? It’s in a space under my bed,
Where nightly I take it out of its place
And lay it on my pillow near my head
That I may caress it and dream of days
When lovers stood fast on what they had pledged.
Please, Sir, if you’d retrieve the box for me,
This dank dark cell would be a paradise,
For her heart would bear me such company
That even the loss of freedom would suffice 
To make me feel I am a man most free.”

April 2, 2023

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Memories of One's Stay At a Children's Home

We were just children of different ages,
From varied places brought on different days  
By the police to that one children’s home.
At first, we did not know each other’s name,
But we soon developed a bond that was
Peculiar to people in the same plight.

We were victims of abuse and neglect
In our own homes by family and kin,
So we chose to run and live on the streets.
We rummaged through garbage for scraps to sell,
At night, in parks or in pavements, we slept 
‘Til the police took us in their mobile.

There were babies, too, who had been disclaimed
In hospitals just after they were born,
By their own mothers--too young or poor,
Or afraid of responsibility.
They occupied one of the building’s wings:
When one cried, the others joined in sympathy. 

We were fed, clothed, and we had warm beds; 
We helped Nanay* cook and prepare our meals 
Tatay* cleaned the halls and kept the garden.
The other staff were very good to us.
Thus, in that place, though momentarily,
We had a semblance of a family.

Sometimes a new child was brought in--frightened,
And shy, till he warmed to our company.
The saddest part was when one had to go--
Released due to overage, or finally
Found by relations, or for adoption.
These goodbyes always brought tears to our eyes.

It was in that children’s home where I learned
Many things about love, loss, life, and pain,
And why it was that the world wasn’t fair,
And why there were those who still remained kind.
I found solace in people I barely knew
And real friendship in an unlikely place.

I can’t help but wonder where they are now;
It’s been one score and ten since my release.
Some names and faces I can still recall
But some have faded with the years that passed.
All I can do is wish them well and pray, 
Like Tiny Tim, “God bless us, everyone!”

*Nanay is a Filipino term for Mother; the male counterpart is Tatay.

April 10, 2023
Lower Fairview, Baguio City

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To Daisy

When the world seems to me an unbearable place
And troubles weigh too heavily on my shoulders
And try as I may there can be found no solace
For my pain, my anguish, and my sorrow to soothe; 
When I feel like God and the angels all conspired 
To deny me the pleasures of wealth, friends, and fame
And thus alone I rue my fate and call for Death,
In silent cries, to come and my existence end.

Then I hear her voice and the clouds seem to dispel, 
With gentle tones that pull my feet back on the ground.
Her kindness, patience, care, understanding, and love
Awaken me from brooding too much on the dark;
Her tender touch calms the storm brewing in my heart, 
She drives away the raging demons from my mind.
Thus, when I no longer want to cling on to life 
She comes to me and somehow things turn out right. 

She lifts my mind from wallowing in misery
To a brighter and a more pleasant reverie.

September 29, 2024
Lower Fairview, Baguio City, Philippines

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Violin

A violin is like a lover--
A beautiful work of Art--
Precious, delicate, fragile.
It has to be handled with care,
Caressed, fondled, touched,
Hugged--but not too tight,
Or break it might
And hurt you in its breaking.

Hold the violin by its neck
The way you would hold your lover--
Firm but with the right pressure.
Look at it at arm’s length,
Admire its waist,
Lay your chin on its rest,
Close your eyes and feel
Your lover’s chest.

Press its strings as if you were
Pressing your lover’s skin,
With fingertips tripping over
Like the dainty feet of a dancer.
And the violin’s scroll--
Isn’t it a pretty sight?
Like a lover’s head bowed
When you were still both shy.

May 1, 2024
Lower Fairview, Baguio City

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On the Fire That Razed Blocks 3 and 4 of the Baguio Public Market Night of March 11, 2023

It all began with a tiny spark
That quickly grew to a roaring blaze;
Its flaming arms reaching every space
Devouring all that in its path lay.

It was close to midnight, who would’ve thought
That the night would be pierced by this onslaught?
Firefighters came and with all their might fought 
This treacherous foe, its destruction sought.

So we stood and watched helpless on the side
As the fire licked all the merchandise,
And as embers flew, leaving things to dust,
We clutched each other, said, “In God we trust.”

What went up in smoke in that dreadful fire?
It wasn’t just cash, for some it was life;
A new home for a family of five
Or funds for the education of a child.

We lament, therefore, this great tragedy
That will surely live long in our memory
But we'll rise like a phoenix from its ashes--
No adversity shall bend us to our knees.

March 16, 2023

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The Balls: A Parody of Poe's the Bells

I
Hear the bouncing of the balls--
Basketballs!
What a sound of merriment they cause when each ball falls!
How they echo, echo, echo,
Inside the gymnasium walls,
Arriving at a crescendo
While the spectators shout “Bravo!”
Drowning the referee’s calls;
And the players start
To make their last dart
Amidst the reverberation ricocheting off the stalls
From the balls, balls, balls, balls,
Balls, balls, balls--
From the bouncing and the dribbling of the balls.

II
Hear the ticking of the balls,
Ping-pong balls!
What a soft and easy sound comes from their bounce and rolls!
In the crowded room that’s bright
How they fill it with delight!
Like the ticking of a clock,
Steady but fast,
Or the picking of a lock,
What tune they make with their ceaseless tick-tock,
Until at last--
Oh, what a miss that appalls
The audience that has remained speechless in the halls
How it falls!
How it scrolls!
And the erring player rolls
His fists at his own pitfalls
By the swinging and his missing
To hit the balls, balls, balls
The balls, balls, balls, balls,
Balls, balls, balls--
To hit the light and small and saffron ping-pong balls!

III
Hear the loud thud of the balls--
Volleyballs!
What feeling of suspense is caused by their great falls!
Across the nets stretched tight
How they gracefully take flight!
The watchers anticipating,
Who would win they keep waiting,
Breathlessly.
Until the umpire from his platform blows a long shrill whistle,
And the balls drop on the ground like useless heads of missile.
Then tempers start to bristle
In the air there is a rustle
From both player and spectator
To win the set or never
Hold the trophy covetously.
Oh, the balls, balls, balls--
"Pick them up!" the umpire bawls.
Once again
The balls are hit, tossed, and passed
And the game goes on full blast
While the players on each side dare not complain
Yet the audience fully knows
By the spiking
And the digging
How the game would sooner close.
Who would be covered in palls
Suffer beating,
‘Cause of losing,
And forced to receive catcalls
For dismally failing to score and keep afloat the balls,
The volleyballs--
The volleyballs, balls, balls, balls,
Balls, balls, balls--
In the scrambling and the spiking of the balls!

March 18, 2023

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Reflection On a Maundy Thursday

He came and dwelt among men 
And shared a vision of heav'n;
To Him some opened their doors,
But more denied their favors.

With sinners He sat and supped;
Thus, others called Him corrupt.
But they did not understand:
He changed their hearts with His hand.

He walked and taught in byways
And always with gentle gaze;
Some gladly took His offer,
Others remained a scoffer.

Still He sought those who were lost,
Those who felt were tempest-tossed.
He healed the sick--gave them hope!--
Granted them the strength to cope.

He knew He had few days left
And sorrowed for those bereft;
In His heart, He put us first--
Both good and bad and the worst.

In spite of His love so clear,
We pierced His side with a spear.
Then as He drew His last breath,
For us all He conquered Death. 

April 6, 2023

Write a Jueju-Qijue Poetry Contest
Sponsored by: Emile Pinet

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I Only Live To Love You: A Love Song

I was only a drifter,
Was just going with the flow;
My life then had no meaning,
I didn’t know where to go.

Then fate brought us together,
It was the best of my days.
In you I found the reason--
I live to love you always.

Now, what’s to live without you,
I can’t even contemplate.
With you, I can’t ask for more
For your love is adequate.
I only live to love you;
We are each other’s soul mate.

So, Darling, come take may hand--
Hold it tight, don’t let it go
‘Coz I’m afraid that if you do,
My world would lose its rainbow.

And this to you I promise:
In all of life’s ups and downs,
To you I will be steadfast
Until Death claims us at last.

*This poem is inspired by the song of the same title. 

April 6, 2023
Fairview, Baguio City

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Dark Haiku

Listen to the sounds--
Eerie, spectral, strange, haunting:
These are cursèd grounds.

Reeking, nauseous smell
Reaching to your very soul--
From the pit of hell.

Darkness and shadows
Fly on the cavernous walls
Like a million crows.

Teeth as black as coal,
Bloodshot eyes and twisted horns--
Satan’s crafty troll.

Flames that leap up high
Damned souls scream in piercing cries:
No respite is nigh.

Serpents intertwine
Around Satan’s very throne
Where demons recline.

Pitch black and blood red
Dominate the ghastly scene:
Where the Devil led.

March 26, 2023

3rd Place
Hell Haiku Poetry Contest
Sponsored by: Robert James Liguori

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An Endless Dream Dance: Collab With Jo

"You dance love, and you dance joy and you dance dreams." - Gene Kelly

I am lost in an endless dream 
My love and I are together 
Dancing hand in hand, we're a team 
Like the zephyr and a feather 
Swirling and swaying to the beat 
We are caught up in love's sweet trance
 To the music, tapping our feet 
Adrift in our fantasy dance 

I am drunk with his sweet perfume
As I lay my head on his chest
We glide and float across the room
My trembling heart against his, pressed.
All around us are empty seats
And memories of happy years
And all the while his firm heartbeats, 
They sound like music to my ears.

I look to see my lover’s face
And his eyes seem to glow with fire
I hold him in a tight embrace
Like that a Muse gives to her lyre. 
So on we dance and time stands still
We ignore each passing hour
We are imprisoned by the thrill
Being in each other’s power.

I do not want this dream to end 
To wake up and find I’m alone 
But dawn breaks in to apprehend 
Into the real world, I’m thrown 
I await night’s darkness to sleep 
To dream of my love and our dance 
I am lost in fantasy deep 
Hope this will last longer perchance

March 31, 2023

Among 1st Place
Collab with Jo Poetry Contest
Sponsored by: Joanna Daniel