Quezon City: University of the Philippines Press, 2021 (with translations in English by various writers)
Sa Aking Pagkadestiyero/In My Exile by Joi Barrios rings a...
The Pruning
Deadhead
the ground
where petals lay,
not the blossomed
branch, rivered
& riveted
this garden,
this square
of pear & pine.
Unlock
the pruning knife,
cut the roses
back to thorn,
back to distel,
to angled light.
Be...
Shoes
Paper cutouts folded to fit
my back pocket. I carry them along
through bus ride and train tracks.
I’ll be gone for a few hours.
My daughters look forward to this
annual ritual. Now they need the stitch
and leather of a tougher kind. Last year’s
is now a hole...
There are impulses that come at unforeseen moments long after loving and losing someone. However, these impulses carry deceptive circuits that lead us to believe that memory can finally take a backseat and we can now console ourselves with the needed composure we...
When you wound a leather sofa
with the forbidden razor blade,
you see no cut but a blooming,
cotton pulp breaches skin, first peeps
and bursts out almost in delight.
When you try to punch through a pane
in a capiz window, you will
be awed by how something so...
“A week ago, just before you arrived, DongJosé,” my grandfather was telling me in between locomotive puffs from his rolled lomboy cigar. “A damn wakwak tore a hole in my nipa roof.”
I nodded as I feasted on my hot breakfast. I had arrived...
I dance through air with a deadly grace.
Yet mourn the lives I cannot replace.
Once a vessel of power, now burdened with guilt,
I pierced through dreams, where innocence wilt.
A mother's love fades into the night,
Leaving children alone, lost in their light.
A father’s laugh, now...
Maribel glanced at her plane seat, grateful that she had the aisle seat and only one seat beside her. Her seat mate was a young woman who had her ear buds on. Maribel was grateful for that, too; she didn’t have to chitchat...