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Poetry

TO LADY POLYESTER

It is not poetry that kills but life.(by Jerry Berryman) True, I am against yourCharged, pure silk silkenAnd crumby softI need polyester for strength, But only the right percentageTo insure against shrinkage. And this one whirl of silkIs febrile, tenuous, and remote.Tearing badly at the slightestBrush...

The Shape of Tears

Out of the blue yonderIn sheer queer wonderDaughter asks meWhat is the shape of tears? I wonder what she meant.Has she wept too much?Cried as muchOr as frequentIn her tender age? Has she bawledAnd bellowedOver some little romanceSome passing fancyRemembering the boyYet forgetting the feeling? Has...

ODE TO DUSK

Catch me another duskAs the day is doneAnd the high bright sunHas settled where it shouldInto the bowels of the sea. Catch me another duskTo recallLife on the islandWhen rice paddiesLead you to the nearby riverWhere the young diveAnd negotiate deep watersAnd rise nakedWhile...

Letting Go

That one moment,When I realized,I have to be stronger,Braver than ever…Not for myself. The longing stare,Yet peaceful sense,That warm embrace,And loving words…“You are my angel.” My heart shattered,I knew it’s time,Yet it kept me together,You need me now,more than ever.Not to keep you…But to let...

Two Poems

The Feet When we are born, our fingers and toes are counted to confirm if we have themcomplete.Like the hands, we have two feet.Some were born with one or none.What is so special about the foot? Cute little toes curling up bring gladness.The first few...

As Fog

As fog grazes these hillsawash with browning shrubs,shanties creep from the valleylined with rivers swelling withdry rocks and restless ants.

Random Pickings

The old beggar by the church door

Each Sunday I see him seated on the church steps, bedraggled clothes, white hair and beard, as I arrive for the last Mass, head bowed almost to his...

Risen

All that I've got is a sinful heart I am offering. What is it for a cloak in you that I wanted to be clothed in? Blessing...

Ang isinumpang luntiang langit ni Ryan V. Labana

Nagpapausok na naman ang mga kapre– ‘Yung mga dambuhalang pabrikang nakatapak sa dating luntiang lote.   Hindi ko man marinig ngunit animo’y umiiyak, Itong bago kong pananim na...

My Mother’s Skirts

After my mother died, I decided to gather twine from her frayed skirts and braid them into wreaths. I discovered that each skirt had...