Poetry

          As I lay alone in bed —                    thinking of nothing —          Listening: a strange wild bird                   ...

In the quiet town of Balangiga, where the sea wind drifts through palm and flame tree,three bells once hung in a belfry, brushed by salt and sun.They were not merely metal, but memory made solid,each toll a breath of devotion,each peal a summoning...

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...

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...

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 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...