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Poetry

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TANAGÀ

Gipit Kapag kawalang-wala, Nandiyan mayâ’t mayâ; Pagtanggap ng biyaya, Wari mo’y nagsabula. Sino? Nang ihain ang dalág, Nagsipasok ang lahat; Ay, sinong maghuhugas? Isa-isang lumabas. Bugaw Iyon bang batang-bata At tiyak na sariwa? O iyong dalubhasa Ngunit medyo...

A Summer Poem for Baguio

As the car was winding down Zigzag roadOne sizzling afternoonI gazed at smoke billowing, spiraling up the sky from a distant mountainGreen turning brown...

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...

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...

In Gratitude

In each moment of doubt…I thank TheeAs I remember the many questionsI tried to ignore,Who am IWhere am IWhy am I here In each moment of fearI thank TheeAs I rememberThe mind is a trickster, a teasePlaying games on me In each moment of wanderLost...

ARC OF OUR VOICE

Woman Woman is daylightWoman is God’s gardenWoman is rib of creation Woman is legend Woman is myth and miracle Woman is spring Woman is hope Woman is faith Woman is love Woman is fruit and seedWoman is tenderness Woman is courage Woman is half the skyWoman is visionWoman is destinyWoman is devotionWoman is...

After Reading Hemingway’s “Clean, Well-lighted Place” (For Joel Toledo and the Bayaws)

Soon it will be like us. Eighty-year-old men Being refused another round of beersWaiters eager to go home to their wives.Assuming we reach old ageWith the way we drink our sorrows, The way we drink our longingsThe way we order buckets of pain,We strive to...

Story with My Grandfather

My grandfather growled Outside the windowOf the parked Corolla in the garage.  I parked myself insideBecause we fought the week before. My parents had separatedAnd I took my mother’s side.  Dad’s father lawyered for himWho brought me to school,Who was with me and brother dailyWhile Mom was...

After the Rain

I used to hate rain. My heart would trembleupon its arrival.Announcing its comingwith grey, dreary,and foreboding skies. I used toclose the curtain,draw the blinds,close my eyes,and pray that the rainwould go away. Now, I love the rain.welcomingand embracing it when it comes.“Hello, rain. We meet again.” Chaos...

Butterfly

Do not catchA butterfly With your hands,Especially not A white oneEven with itsEver so slightStreaks of black. You might Damage itsDelicate wingsAnd it can Never fly again.Catch it, rather,With a cameraOr even just Your mind’s eyeRemembering itThrough your ownMetamorphosis Into a livingShining beingClothed in whiteLinen like Someone We all know.

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