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Poetry

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...

Illumination

then, when the star-studded skywould brighten our upturned faces,we liked to believe it filledus with real brilliance,gifted down from the layof the galaxy, so that when we sleptwe would be glowing inside. now,whenever we are awake,in stillness, or still-captivatedspell, we who have soaked...

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...

Random Pickings

Ghost knocking

She left him nothing, not a word, not even a single letter. But everywhere he turned, he could feel   her cupped hand riding a plank the shape of a...

2 poems

Prelude I’m scared of this masterpiece,                           how I painted it so perfectly with every bit of green and blue, sewed                           to a threshold of fragmented doors— a...

Tropical Sundews

this is the timewhen the greens are greener than beforeas above so belowthe midges regret worshippingthe false god of all false beingsthe dewdrops and...

SUPPER AT EMMAUS

In Harmony with Caravaggio Imagine their disbelief: these two men,perhaps fishermen like most of the twelve,beholding the stranger do the familiarblessing, the breaking of bread.One...