Explore more Articles in

Poetry

Three Threads

For three yearswe were buriedunder these masks. Three years of breathingthrough our eyes, sheddingour days, one after the other. As this thin cloth cut deep lineson our faces, they remind usof real dangers and hidden wars. As the years flow into these threadswhen woven tight, they...

Water Rondel

Love is what makes music take nature’s shape.Heart singing through the warbler’s throat,Storm clouds curling, calm ripples ‘round a boat,Music is water, its shape as love dictates. Water’s wisdom: its own level it seeks,Heart must sing in flood or drought:Love’s warm embrace it cannot...

PRAYING YOUR WILL?

There you go again,Praying for yourCreature comforts.Brain’s drying up,I see,Though summer’sNot been around That long.Seasons haveTheir uses,Did you know.Summer is so thatFlowers can growAnd bees can sip Their honeyWhile they waitTo fruit. GoodFor your stomach,Not just sight.Don’t pray summerAway on the Excuse of waterFor the dams.Those...

Chopin’s Valse de L’Adieu

After a year of hesitant whispers, Their mutual nodTo terminate the engagement. Clouds of unknowing Drift over Paris, The syllogism of parting Known only to Maria WodzińskaAnd him.  Perhaps, it was her dread Of his unrelenting winter fever—That famished lout gnawing At his lungs, bound to consume him Fourteen years hence; Or the...

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...

Random Pickings

The Photograph

Here my mother, who must have been in her early forties, sits on a stone ledge at Fort San Pedro overlooking the Guimaras Strait. The sun must...

1945 by Raphael Salise

I lied when I said “I’ll be home soon, don’t you worry about me” I just didn’t want to hear you burst into tears through the receiver for it would also rain down...

What passes for us

I see montages evoking regrets, noble architectures dipped in pastels, pale peaches and cream, reticent with their secrets: are the things you tell me after the rain. Together...

Four Poems for the Future

Nothing’s Too Far There is no escaping the long arm of memory, & the more I try to, I turn to it instead: During trips to my...