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Philippines Graphic Reader
What a Child Cannot Learn from Books
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...
House of Leaves
“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...
The Bullet Wakes from Its Cruel Shell
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...
The One-Night Stand at the Frankfurt Book Fair
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...
He who Is without Sin
Three huge cross figures made of fine wood were slowly being painted black by a crowd of men. They sat on makeshift bamboo benches in front of a small sari-sari store, holding a paintbrush in one hand and a bottle of beer in...
One Little Less
One little less of me —
a hand, an awe, a feather falling free.
one little much an eye; one too little, still more
to be.
One too little of what I am; a little too much to count on,
to look ahead for few is to drift...
