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Poetry
The fire tree
You were born in grace facing the
Fire tree entangled with the wind and the sun
And pregnant with imaginations of the crossing
Lights focused on the direction of the meadow
Tarnishing your immaculate shadow with the
Image of burning tree gobbled by the horizon
And your sophisticated thoughts...
Loonpoem
Under the broken streetlamp
a Loonpoem struggles to be born
In the ruins.
Her voice cried
As the earth cracked open
And Our Lady of Light came
Tumbling down.
The selfsame church the poet
Clovis had been proud of,
A decade before as we drank
In Tagbilaran, in the porch
Of his sister’s apartment...
I Spoken Like Diss
Diss poym… my powem is entitled “Umaga at Gabi”.
Pero na-realize ko na kung “entitled” nga ba itong tula sa “Umaga at Gabi”
Na naghahanap ng paikot-ikot na cycle also known as
Repetition-repetition-repetition
Nang may retention
Everytime na mine-mention ang “Umaga at Gabi”.
At mare-realize ko bigla na walangsense...
Bitiw
Malalim ang ‘yong mga mata’t
Hapis na ang mukha.
Hindi ko na mabilang ang iyong mga gatlâ.
Dati-rati’y parang tigre ka kung tumingin,
Matikas ang tindig,
At buong katawan ay may may masel.
Nanghihina na ang ‘yong mga tuhod;
Sa paglakad ay iipod-ipod.
Babahagya ka nang makakain;
Kailangan pang lagi kitang pilitin.
Madali...
Bloody calligraphy
I hate squawking,
Issues on mutilating the truth.
Backtracking the ruins
On my nails,
Bitten.
Seismic cries revolt
Where liquefaction of dying words
Come to steal breaths,
Eyebaths from bouldering graves.
Brewed illusion
Be mine tonight.
In my vineyard
Of flowers, berries and leaves,
Sweet and bittersweet spells
From your lips,
As we burn the night
And free the...
What passes for us
I see montages evoking regrets,
noble architectures dipped in pastels,
pale peaches and cream, reticent with their
secrets: are the things you tell me after
the rain. Together we look at pigments --
ochre, sienna, umber, sentinels on
lily-white walls, tactile yet taciturn.
What passes for us in-between: moments
of walking,...
