IN MY FIRST French film La Sirène, a historic “first French film” made by an Ilonggo filmmaker, I wanted my poetry to shine.
So I wrote this lyric for the movie on Oct. 7.
One sitting. Like I’ve been thinking about it for days before setting the first word down.
I’ve always wanted to start it with “Why is the sea salty?”
*
But not until this photo of me painfully smiling on a Cubao street with hanging lanterns did I write the lines:
It’s not about you leaving.
It’s about me on this street
Smiling with a broken heart.
─Peter Solis Nery
*
Those three lines were the punch I needed to write the poem The Taste of the Sea.
The poem’s course, of course, is dictated by the plot of the movie, or even by the tale of The Little Mermaid.
But the sentiment, the romance, is all signature Peter Solis Nery.
Certified Ilonggo romantic.
And preeminent prince of Ngoyngoy poetry.
*
The Taste of the Sea
Why is the sea salty?
Why does it taste like tears?
Did the mermaids cry all night
Like my heart cried for you
When you left me
And the moon was full?
*
Why do I love you
With tears in my eyes?
Why do I remember your embrace
Like it was the sea holding me
In her watery arms?
*
Why do I cry like the ocean?
Why are my tears the taste of the sea?
Why did you kiss me
And left me broken hearted?
Why did you leave me sad and broken
Like an empty shell on the beach?
*
This is my song.
The story of my life began
At that moment when we first met
And in that indescribable way I felt
When you smiled at me.
*
It’s not about you leaving.
It is about me in this salty sea
Smiling with a broken heart.
The story of my life
Begins, and ends, with you.
─Peter Solis Nery
*
I have never identified myself with a mermaid.
I am not that kind of gay.
I’m rather proud of my dick.
But I know the feelings of a mermaid longing for her prince.
Been there, done that.
*
Admittedly, I do love fiercely like mermaids.
And my love is always a fever.
I love being sick with love.
I like burning up with love.
*
But when I am ignored, the fever breaks.
I guess the heart, like all muscles, just gets weary.
It gives up.
I wish it isn’t so. But it is so!
The spirit is willing, but the heart breaks down.
Sad, but true.
*
Do not blame me.
I like falling in love.
I like the risk of getting hurt.
(Read my column on Wednesday!
It will be juicy account of a love affair.
If it was really a love affair.)
*
It Is Sad When a Love Affair Dies
I still love you, but I no longer burn like the sun.
Because while we promise forever, and sometimes we feel immortal, the truth is, we are just human.
And the human heart, however loving, can get tired, and stop beating.
─Peter Solis Nery
*
I Am Love
Softly, featherlike, like the gentle wings of a dove, I will touch you, I will caress your heart, until you wake up, until you smile at me, and realize there is much love in the gentlest of caresses.
*
I will kiss you wet, like dewdrops on a leaf, like soft, gentle drops of summer rain kissing your skin, making your shy body hair grow like ferns flourishing in the shade of love and rain shower kisses.
*
I will touch you again, and hold you with the arms of love, as I kiss you deep and merciful. I will let you return my kisses, and it will be our secret little game. I kiss you, you kiss me, I kiss you more, and we will try to outkiss each other.
*
And when your mortal body tires of me, and foolishly turns away from me, I will still embrace your spirit, I will still hold you in my heart, and love you with an immortal love, the very love of the gods. Because I am love.
─Peter Solis Nery (500tinaga@gmail.com/PN)
