The Philippines Graphic Reader

The first and only magazine on Philippine literature in English

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On Session Road, Remembering Mike de Leon’s Kung Mangarap Ka’t Magising

The projector hums. In the theater’s dusk, a flicker unspools a world. The scent of rice wine and stale popcorn grounds him, a shadow of a...

Echoes of the Blue Fire

Our ancestors believed the butat-iw were bad omens. They appeared when I was alone—wild orbs of floating blue fire, the size of my Baba’s fist....

Still Life with Twelve Sunflowers, after Scrolling

Van Gogh’s sunflowers  — all twelve of them  — so lively, lush, standing, bending; they do not submit to ikebana’s poise and posture — golden — no — bronze — beautiful yet...

The Weight of Small Things

Fear is at the back of her mind, a shimmering heat in the distance, a glowing ember in the dark. Silently acknowledged but never...

GUERILLA DOWNPOUR

There is no warning— the sky, a sudden insurgent, opens with                     guerrilla downpour. Torrential rain, an unrelenting witness, assaults the fragile spines of trees and the quiet bones of houses. Water...

Salt Prayer

"There must be something strangely sacred about salt.It is in our tears and in the sea."from SAND AND FOAM (1926) by Khalil Gibran Matthew 5:13—...

Something More

BY THIS TIME next year, Teresita could be elsewhere, unmindful of the biting cold. She could see herself walking along a cobblestone path strewn...

Mawr

“Do we ever win, Mom?” Raniw smiled at the young ginger cat, barely out of kittenhood, who asked the question. “No, Runi, we will never win....

House of Lola

Notwithstanding its idyllic ambiance, Dumaguete City in the early '70s was a cheerful city overflowing with enigmas and desires. Amidst the brackish environs of...

On Sundays…and Belonging

On Sundays and belonging,And when I used to mess around with Lolo’s typewriter:Clicking and clacking the worn-out buttons, it is legacySounding against my stubby...

Autumn Song

He was there again tonight. Seated at the last table of the small, dark bar, a lighted cigar in his hand, looking at me...

Tropical Sundews

this is the timewhen the greens are greener than beforeas above so belowthe midges regret worshippingthe false god of all false beingsthe dewdrops and...

The Room Next Door

FICTION — I never really knew Eric. He was the kind of neighbor you saw often but never truly saw—a blur of dark shirts and headphone wires, slipping down the stairs with his phone in one hand and a plastic bag of instant noodles or soda in the other. Always alone.

Naked

I’ll wear nothingbut my trembling desirethe wild beat of my pulsethe lingering whispers of my past. I’ll wear nothingbut the ache of my lost love the...

Grandma

Her hands quiver from sustained pressing of the beads. When her voice starts to rise, the light of the kerosene lamp amplifies from an entirely lambent glow, illuminating the...

Inverted Horizons

The sea and the sky Swap their eternities The waves with the clouds And everywhere Fishes fly birds swim Farmers cast seines Fishers sow seeds Waterways counterflow Waterfalls go into reverse All of...

By the Brook

I Nina’s eyes peer above the cover of a nameless book. She wasn’t reading, no. Her eyes are fixed on the distant figure of her...