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Poetry
Boyhood
The Santol Trees bear sweet or sour fruitsWe climb with our little hands and feetWe always scurry towards the treetopsAnd look down the world of our ancestorsThe Santol Trees flavor the big dreamsWe store in our boyhood jars at home
A Study on Four Artists
I. Van Gogh’s Patch of Flowers
Flaming red, they gleam in the sunlight of Arles,The poppies in summer strewn along the paths.The artist shuffles by, weighed downBy the unbearable ache of wonder, a stripOf cloud taints the perfect cerulean sky.He looks up, raises a...
Passion of Waterfalls
Let me remember the passionthat propels you to caress the napeof the cliff as you slither towardthe rim of the ridge.
And then you execute The Plunge:your daring dive, your riveting dance.
O glory of falling water you carrynot just the swilling screams of boundingbut...
Rainbow’s End
Don’t come runningPanting, gasping, throbbing, weepingOn bended kneesWhen rainbows cease shiningAnd bougainvilleas stop bloomingWhen no pot of gold gleams on the horizonOn the boulevard of broken dreams
Where once upon a timeWith glee, you sang, with feeling,“Promises, promises”To the tune of an elegiac Dionne WarwickBurt...
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 turning gray turning black, signaling that summer has begunDefying the month of preventing fire.It raged ‘til eveningFanned by the...
