Thursday, February 6, 2014

Four Poems in Manila Bulletin's Cruising #GoingPlaces Magazine Jan-Feb 2014

Cruising Magazine January 2014

Several of my poems appear here. Read them below:

Provenance of Light

sun through the trees

mirror lake
a duck shakes its feathers
on clouds

rising steam
a suggestion
of breasts

roiling springs
the ripples

a face I thought
I knew

~ * ~ * ~

To Pay Homage

chants echo
from the temple spire
a crow caws 

golden statues
the voice of Buddha
is silence 

three realities--
sanctum archways
one after the other 

ancient mural
cat sprays at the feet
of avatars 

shining droplets
newly-hatched snails
on a lily pad 

lengthening shadows
the last of the incense
burns out

~ * ~ * ~


There is much we can’t believe.
While on the bus to Panagbenga
we couldn’t believe the sky could be so blue, so open
readily taking the glistening cranes into its cerulean hold.
We couldn’t believe the paddies could don sunlight
in so many greens that tremble with the wind.

Breathless amid the flowers and dance
you blossomed into bells and laughter
and I couldn’t believe how you could become
the sky, the fields, the cranes, the blooms, all at once
I couldn’t believe the extent of my want

“I can’t believe you’re mine,” your words
and mine, though unspoken—yours, mine
perhaps this was where we went wrong
being us was too much a given
I couldn’t believe that years later you’d still be calling
to tell me the same things.
You couldn’t believe we parted the way we did
No skies, no fields, no birds nor blooms.
All I know is we started believing
we were together, nothing more
and the end came with little surprise.

And I'm also in their February 2014 issue. Pleasure to be included in such a lovely magazine!

Cruising Magazine January 2014

The Snake in the Gutters

Serpent, how far you’ve fallen
from godly lineage.
Herald of ultimate healing
did you not bless the temples of Asclepius
and slither into fevered dreams—
revelations of therapy, promises of recovery.

Apophis, eternal destruction
gods enlisted gods in battle
to stop you from swallowing the sun
and returning the world to darkness
as deep as the length of your coils

Serpent, you would be cut down
but we were fools to think you could be slain

Versed in your secret, the alchemists knew:
Ouroboros devours himself to renew his life
immortality is eternal return
to them, you gave the magnum opus.

Harbinger of truth to Adam and Eve
When you eat of it your eyes will be opened
within all of us—the darkness we call desire
refuses to come full circle with reason,
refuses to be understood, or we refuse it, fear it—
perhaps the very reason why we lack eternity.

There is a snake coiled in the gutters
a protuberance in its belly
a crowd has gathered in reverent distance
a man prods its head with the tip of his umbrella;
shouts ripple through the onlooking host
as the serpent stands and strikes
a residual memory of its former glory
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