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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

FALL

How lovely to imagine he fall.In many ways, how true is that word for the season? And how the Bible has it in its very...

Visitors

By Sigrid Gayangos   When nights simmered like a lazy summer day, and months went on without rain, the ancient ones of Samboangan swim up to the shore, take...

MAOMAG PRINCE*

(Philippine Tarsier Foundation in Loboc, Bohol) Charles, next in lineTo the throne of England,Held him: Palm-sized proto-simian,Tiny tea saucers for eyes,Mouth with needle teeth, More ancient than...

Dale As I Explain to Him This Weird Thing Called Love

Is love visceral? Is love political?We elect emotions as tyrantsDictating the rest of our historyWhile I hold your hands gentlyWalking down the parliamentOf desire...