Philippines Graphic Reader

We have our palms embedded in the trunks of trees, embroidered in its leaves were desires left seasoned by the worms. That the fruits were products of a hundred laborers, scattered throughout the jungle of civilization, undisturbed, and the seeds outgrown the narratives of the past, filling the...

I was yet to meet a man like him. He sauntered into the room with a gait that announced, Look! I’m here! And by the time the heavy pinewood door swung shut behind him, all my trainees—of which he was to be one—had...

To the Woodcarvers of Betis 1 if i could feel the cold hardness of wood, would i also know your will, woodcarver, your will to hew a soul out of a lifeless slab? what skill does it take to craft complete an art, a promised beauty, defined and fulfilled? if i find the wisdom, then, i...

It is Saturday morning. I am down on all fours on the bathroom floor.  My hair is kept up by a plastic clamp; my face, bare. Keeping everything pristine is my compulsion.  Today is no exception. Using a rag soaked in Zonrox, I...

For its brick walls were blotched with rednessLike a child with a high grown fever,The tolling of its bells, bounty and scared. The plaza on its façade, a space of endearmentFor the taho vendors in selling their drinkable breakfastAnd the jeepneys whose wheels turning...

The summer Ninay turned ten, her elder sister told her that she should learn to help around the house. Housework should be done the perfect way, her sister said. “No mess. No noise. No clutter.” But Ninay accidentally dropped plates, cups or spoons...