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

white-striped

green

mirror lake

a duck shakes its feathers

on clouds

rising steam

a suggestion

of breasts

roiling springs

the ripples

meet

crowd

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

~ * ~ * ~

Given

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