Best New Male Poet

Here are the Nominees;

Jonas B. San Pedro
"Ang Hiwaga, sa Gabing payapa"

Nakatutulig,nakatutulig, sa aking pandinig,
sa sobrang tahimik, ay walang marinig,
pusikit ang kadiliman, di sukat malirip,
nang biglang sa may kuarto,ang papag ay lumangitngit.
Kumalabog ang pinto't,nag sara ang bintana,
celedura'y napihit, mula kanan pakaliwa,
para bang lumilindol, doon sa may dambana,
ako nga'y nag usisa't, inalam ang hiwaga.
Tumunog ang agunyas, at ako'y nangilabot,
kaba sa dibdib ko'y, labas masok labas masok,
ako'y napasigaw.., ng maipit ang buhok,
nawala ang diwa't, ang ulo'y kinamot.
Nang ako'y lumapit, sa kuarto'ng madilim,
may isang aninong, lumapit sa akin,
pawis ko ay namuo, ang mata ko'y naduling,
nang aking tanglawan, ay puno ng saging.
Dagli ako'ng lumabas, at ako'y nakakita,
ng isang kabayo'ng, may pakpak na pula,
maitim ang binti, ma asul ang mata.

William Rodriguez
"Why Do We Have To Love?"

Why do we have to appreciate and admire?
These little things will soon turn into desire
Which we cannot extinguish like a blazing fire
Until we are lost and drowned into the mire.

Why we are so bold and beyond compare?
Despite the imminent danger we never care
With the person we love our lives we want to share
But with the naked dream is only a nightmare.

Why do we have to love and cry?
As we ask the heavens without knowing why
From the very start we cannot say goodbye
It is our fault because we cannot break the tie.

From the underground we hear the voice of Edgar Allan Poe
The Nightangle died but the Raven came too
Illusion and frustration become our mortal foe
Because our fantasies will never come true.

In the midst of the night we are like zombies
We buried ourselves and created our own cemeteries
We are willing victims of human infirmities
Our hearts are shattered klike scattered pennies.

We are like ghost and the chilly wind
Visiting and blowing in the darkest end
We deceive ourselves even when we cannot pretend
In a world of make believe, we cannot pretend.

Shamefulness and self pity is in our side
In our eyes the painful truth can never hide
At the edge of despondency we will marry our bride
We are totally destructed and tortured deep inside.

It is better to be numb and calloused
When we will only be wounded and double-crossedI
n this experiment we are just an apparatus
Which kill ourselves like a lifeless fetus.


Windel Zamora Canbando
"Veritas"

Life is but a fancy poetry;
Truths are hidden in genuine irony.
Behold it's true,so hard to famthom,
As a child with wondered eyes over the fallen leaves of Autumn.

So many faces along the way,
Yet what's inside is kindling enmity.
And there are few who used to smile,
In midst of their wounded knees to vanish the pain a while.

And why this sole man in the empty street so gay?
Who can hardly eat his meals a day.
But here is a man who owns gold and silver,
Yet still finds himself nil and meager!

Quid veritas est?
So hard to answer.
But please remember.
"Magna est veritas et praevalebit!"

Argel Sanga
"Blind Child"

Brilliance is danger as blind as a child
The Wave of the wood as harp as chimed
Every fog that fall as rain as a moiled
The rainbows whirling as gray as I wailed

Snooping rhyme on nature is all time wonder
Listening to verse as song as I wander
I invent life as scenery as I pander
But why God I’m blinded as ant as I blander

Berny Hermosa
"Sweet Goodbye"

i never thought i would fall
someone greater than you before
its the thin line of my desire
that no one dare to cross that line
all day past never thought that it has a better part
this sweet sensation i felt
just assure me that i have a safety belt
but tears fell one night
and it grasp my life with fright
and all i want to have is might
how can i make it through this pain
when all i hear are drops of rain
how could i heal this part again
when all i know is i've nothing to gain
you said u need tobut u said you'll never go
how can i stand without you
now that i dont know what can i do
now the stars are fadingall of the sudden
i am only looking in this note saying Goodbye...

Vinci Bueza
"Writing new lines from old sorrows"

I believe that old wounds never heal completely.
they may be covered by new skins but they fester inside that body
which seems incapable of forgetting sorrows, and they leave scars in that part of the soul between consciousness and recollectionsthere -you are most vivid.

I see you in thatcolorless haze,right off Boticelli's.
I can see clearly the light of the moonmirrored by your eyes on multi-colored ice;
hazelnut and mocha,espresso with a bit of cocoa,
a little tinge of cappucino with a dash of macchiato.

yellow curryspicy turmeric.
ah, your eyes are as addictiveas caffeineas dangerous as inviting as cigar.
sometimes,you are there,betweenasleep and awake;
i can smell you faintly underneath my pillows -or is it dried tears?

old sorrows never heal completely.
they are between here and there,being and non-being.
they are ghosts that haunt the silent,
empty spaces of our hearts.