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Poetry
Grandma
Her hands quiver
from sustained pressing of the beads.
When her voice starts to rise,
the light of the kerosene lamp amplifies
from an entirely lambent glow,
illuminating the details of
her room. Mound of frass
and dead winged
ants on the altar; archaic cross
nailed askew on a bole. Might these,
however...
Inverted Horizons
The sea and the sky
Swap their eternities
The waves with the clouds
And everywhere
Fishes fly birds swim
Farmers cast seines
Fishers sow seeds
Waterways counterflow
Waterfalls go into reverse
All of this unbeknown
To Siri Alexa and Cortana.
TWO POEMS ON FATHERHOOD
Shoes
Paper cutouts folded to fit
my back pocket. I carry them along
through bus ride and train tracks.
I’ll be gone for a few hours.
My daughters look forward to this
annual ritual. Now they need the stitch
and leather of a tougher kind. Last year’s
is now a hole...
What a Child Cannot Learn from Books
When you wound a leather sofa
with the forbidden razor blade,
you see no cut but a blooming,
cotton pulp breaches skin, first peeps
and bursts out almost in delight.
When you try to punch through a pane
in a capiz window, you will
be awed by how something so...
The Bullet Wakes from Its Cruel Shell
I dance through air with a deadly grace.
Yet mourn the lives I cannot replace.
Once a vessel of power, now burdened with guilt,
I pierced through dreams, where innocence wilt.
A mother's love fades into the night,
Leaving children alone, lost in their light.
A father’s laugh, now...
One Little Less
One little less of me —
a hand, an awe, a feather falling free.
one little much an eye; one too little, still more
to be.
One too little of what I am; a little too much to count on,
to look ahead for few is to drift...
