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Poetry
A Farmer’s Memory
The neighbors say he suffers from
dementia. On the balcony, he stares at
the cloudless sky. How he declares
the stars have turned into tubers
of motley shapes and colors! He asks if
he could fish some and trade them for
a gantang of rice. Perhaps the
copious harvest at...
Sunset Boulder
Random and I find
our landscape
a chore.
Every day we push
this sunset up a hill
then see it roll down.
Random knows.
She has joined
the sunset.
His Wawa, adding to
the weight of the grey
boulder of fading light.
I now know
why it was the colors
she feared.
Sunsets everywhere
in big cities
and small towns.
People...
A Prayer for Leni Robredo
Lord, there’s no day that can carry the load
Of living without the help of your grace.
No sun will shine on a land without hope.
The morning there will have nowhere to go,
Like a child who loses sight of its mother,
And then she came, her...
Bunót
My tongue used to be made up of copra,
salivating oils that indicate who I am and where
I’m from. A place where coconut husks roof
people’s mouths. Instrument to ignite brittle vowels
and wavy coir tones. When my people speak,
one can hear songs that carry the...
Naked
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...
MEMOS
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...
