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Poetry
Hypnagogic
I see a scarecrow
On the yellow moon
By the window
Of the third kind
Woman or man
I ought to know
I look to the left
It shifts to the right
Towards Venus
I look to the right
It pivots to the left
Away from Polaris
But the night
Out of the spotlight
Restarts daylight
Two Poems for the Road
A Dirge
(Majayjay-Lucban Road,
June 16, 2024)
How swift the shift
from Thalia’s smile
to Melpomene’s frown.
One moment, Jack
was about to crack
a joke. Then smack
into our bus the trike
smashed, a deadly
strike. Traffic crawled
at the bloody spectacle
of the sprawled body
splayed in a strange
angle. Dazed in shock,
I brace myself
for a...
Three New Poems
The Demanding Gospel
For Sunil Stephens
“Luke’s Gospel is a gospel of mercy; it emphasizes Jesus’ identification with the poor and the lowly, and His willingness to forgive sinners. Yet it is also a demanding gospel, for it shows that being a follower of Christ...
Slaughterhouse Poems
When My Father Passed Away
This theater is a slaughterhouse
where filaments of grief
are too shifty to cut,
amusing guests who come
along with gestures
broadly understanding
what brought them in,
inscribing very clearly
associations overhanging
with the deceased.
The bereaved insists on
what needs to be preserved
along fertility lines, which
unkind behavior should
be dismembered.
Here,...
Reunion Introspection
Life at 75
My silver mane shows
Natural beauty of age
With warts, lines and all
My silver mane speaks
Of struggle and redemption
With passion and faith
On departed classmates
Gone forever now
Memories we celebrate
Lives well lived and loved
On our humanity
Human lives deserve
Peace that is socially just
Fight for it we...
The Pruning and Other Poems
The Pruning
Deadhead
the ground
where petals lay,
not the blossomed
branch, rivered
& riveted
this garden,
this square
of pear & pine.
Unlock
the pruning knife,
cut the roses
back to thorn,
back to distel,
to angled light.
Be frugal,
light-handed,
bent shrubs
are rain-heavy,
grit-weary,
saddled with
the days
of May’s
cloud weeping.
This June
cuts back
to essential
bone, the boughs
watered
& wounded.
Fold your knees
before the muted
ground, listen
to the...
