poetry
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Carnivorous Hearts
he opened his heart and out flew a vulture. clawing on rotten flesh, breaking white bones and screeching for its brothers with their hungry mouths. slowly, methodically, answering the call, poking their bald heads out of carnivorous hearts. cautiously scanning the alien air, unfamiliar with freedom or maybe the new Continue reading
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That We Call Face
it clings helplessly to the skull like an overripe fruit ready to drop on the forest floor or perhaps a child’s play-sticker, loosely gripping blood and what-have-yous. it never really reveals itself; it only shows its smoothness and curves or some clandestine scars here and there. it parades its flaws or its enchanting beauties, Continue reading
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Ode to Uncertainty
maybe it’s like the sun – that quietly slides up and down the oily sky, then gone and there again. maybe it’s a prayer – gently caressing the cheeks of capricious gods and serving them nectar and honey and blood and heads. maybe it’s paper – pregnant with words and pictures that are Continue reading
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To Washi
[Tropical Storm Washi/Sendong hit the Philippines on December 16, 2011 killing more than a thousand in its wake.] an innocent prelude – indiscriminating rain falling on shoulders, heads, toes, spirits. angering stream and river gods, death wearing dark cloak of water, floods, broiling torrents. we prayed to forces, chances, and unseen anitos lying on piles Continue reading
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Free Spirits
they live behind bars, behind curtains and closed doors, mirrors, closed eyes, embraces and sighs; as prisoners, as wives, as students, as water, as unread poems, as contained dreams they are, Free spirits, watched over by envious clouds. Continue reading
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Circe
They say you came from the line of Hippolyta, Fierce warriors of the Taurus mounts; You are no one but a mother of three And wife of Chronos the Titan. On your back the map to the golden fleece, On you face, the goddess of Helen. You hung the Cyclops on trees and Bred Gaia’s Continue reading
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Haiku Marshlands
1 the rain falls sadly as i wait for the last bus. i cried rain that night. 2 kahlil gibran wrote. i laughed my heart with the rain the rain is kahlil 3 aspirin kisses cigarette-angels teases; friday night’s home-jail. 4 my dog has gone mad: she made friends with our orchid. i said: Hi, Continue reading
Being Here, Now. 