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Patterns

The chisel as creator Lends shape to wood, to stone. Shape being the truth of character, Reality of body and bone, Sculpted fact of form, The confidence of matter. The...

Binondo Church

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...

Time in a Shell

They say that when you put your ear next to a seashell, you can hear the ocean. That you can hear the waves crashing...

Nautilus

I walked barefoot on the Pacific beach,the sand a chill, the sun a dying coal.Waves whispered secrets to the rocks,and there it was—a spiral...

The Eyes that Follow

So this is how most women die, she learned, lying in pain on the floor of the main hallway at the governor’s palace. Forgotten. Her dress—once a beautiful, cream-white, sequined Filipiniana in the style of the former first lady—had been torn almost into shreds,...

Una oda a la música

May this poem be heard as a testament of Amorsolo’s “History of Philippine Music” and his artistry. Winds already touched the glistening sails of a boat that bears the shadows of blossoming antiquity Playful noises coming from the grasp of the lips, Lines withdrawn in the psalms of...

The Baby

Dr. Marta was seated on a stool in the Recovery Room writing her notes on a patient just transferred from the Delivery Room. Suddenly, she heard a sound coming from the unlit Labor Room-A just across the hall. The air was silent, empty,...

Cinnamon Rolls

A covenant was made. You trod on my soil. You breathed my air. Here, tonight, I am having dinner. The hall would have fit in Many exuberant guests, But I only see myself And my toddler’s chair. The table is set. Cutleries in their neat order. I sniff the folded serviette. It is your very...

The Maids’ Revolt

The gunfire echoed along the ship’s corridor. Kuya One, who was known only by his call sign, welcomed the sound this time, as it was an indication that some of his men were still alive. He sadly realized that their movement, at least...

Retrograde

The force of fate couldn’t fight for us.Venus showed me the way to youjust as I pointed her and the Moonfor you to gaze.He smiled down on us, mockingwith his crescent lips, whitened teeth. Time runs backas our shared memories.

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