Poetry

  • Foreplay for Piety
    The interior of her home displayed a dispassionate religion. Its walls lacked ritual and idolatry. Her mechanical rigour as wife made for the spruce and homely. The air lukewarmed by the sun. Yet she makes a seditious preparation of herself. A gamy salve of cloves and oil. A nakedness adorned by silver and silk. In her Ikat she ...
  • Libertad
    The darkness gathered in the distance. It breathed and gorged. She imagined a tempest of such enormity. It will swallow the living earth. It will suffocate the light. And when the world is in darkness. She will plot her escape. In the ciphers of her poetry. In the rice fields, a pestilence. A smothering of tufted grass. Hack every crow ...
  • Carnivel
    I lost my wings tin years ago. Now I rootin’ in the dust. But sometines the westerly win blows. And I can see the sea horizon. That’s a day of the carnivel. I can wear my dress an hat. I can paint my face in garish colours. The music’ll make me laff. I’ll take your hand, stranger. I think ...
  • Intemperately …
    I walked a hundred miles for this. For a perfect view of the sea. Behind me a home in shambles. An unbearable existence. I walked forever it seems. For this country of perfect peace. Where the blue waters kissed my feet. Soothed my aching body. And then I saw him. Risen from the water. When the shore stretched to the ...
  • The Oracle
    He lay on the sand. Grains pinked by peculiar sea life. The foam fondled his feet. Cooled his burnished body. She marvelled at his nakedness. Wanton and unashamed. This be God’s imperfect flesh. Corpulent, dimpled, scarred. “He is the Oracle,” she whispered. And she knelt to God. His body lay between her legs. He was her Revelation. As light as a ...
  • A Shattering Jade
    He powdered and kohled more than usual. He was hiding the bruises on his face. A naval officer arrived last night and fucked him. Played his face with his gun. Dressed in flirt gloves and glittering gown, he danced. To the rhythm of their laughter. A few men in their khaki uniforms. Game for a drag queen dance. He ...
  • Lachrymatoma
    The soft glow of dawn ethereal. A half-light, the sun and the moon. Bodies stir in bed romped. Half-lovers, the bachelor and his wife. He rests his eyes on the undeveloped light. It was a fabulous evening. She smiled somber at this pleasure’s passage. She is love’s libertine. Then suddenly his eyes glazed. The plaint jewel dangled and gorged. It ...
  • Interment
    He swung the shovel vicious. It pierced the parched earth. His calloused shaft taut. Her dales a fertile prospect. He dug with dire expediency. Her hollowed earth prepared. He slid the stiff in swiftly. His crime, her lust interred. But trees have eyes, winds have tongues. These pierced the parched earth. These slid the stiff out swiftly. These dales a ...
  • The Emblem
    The bird was of a mythical colour. It was no larger than the common tree sparrow. It came from quite a distance, travelled quite a distance. From the sky to the city below. It was a bird never before witnessed. It had no name in the world of ornithology. It was of a species born of isolation. Of ...
  • Tears
    He elected one of her many inflorescences. It peeped out of her womb like a phallus. With bare hands he gathered her young flowers. He was gentle but firm. With split rattan he tied her into a bundle. Tight and straight and neat. Soon her soft springy flowers stiffened. She swelled of his constrict. With a keen knife special ...
  • Surrender
    Beneath her bedding was an enormous heap. Hundreds of bundles of money. They bore the faces of her country’s heroes. And the autographs of her government’s thieves. A large white blanket lay over the heap. Once pure now patched with dirt, blood, sweat. It was a gift from her mother, three years ago. Given on the day of ...
  • Rain (An example of the generative use of the 2-sentence/line poem)
    On a cool day of summer. In the morning of delight. In the maze of pleasure. He is science, I am art. As the wind caressed. As smooth as a plum. The first drops of rain. I am home, I am found. As the rain came down. I listened to its music. I hummed a melody. Such utmost pleasure. The beauty ...
  • State of Grace
    I woke up at 4am. The flat looked unfamiliar. Of course, this is his place. This is his bed and sheets. The dawn peeked through the curtains. It illuminated. His naked body in the shadows. My sleeping beauty. I sit up beside him. The man I should have loved. I touch myself in places where he’d kissed. For once. For once ...
  • Dance
    Now I remember. His fancy began when I stepped on the stage. While I talked about booty capitalists. His eyes fixated on my feet. I wore a pair of flat sandals. My choice of comfort when travelling. But it was the ankle bracelet that got him. He asked to see it. To interrupt our conversation. I think it was ...
  • Betel Nut Beauty
    I saw movement inside the house. About an hour after sunrise. That is when he awakes. When I wipe my hands and face. Every morning I anticipate him. I act like a little girl. He comes on the balcony. He has coffee and looks around. He surveys the garden. This is where I work. Two men mind the wooded areas. ...
  • The Sexing of the Angels
    She walked briskly. The distance between the hut and the hillside. It was about a dozen of the the lord’s prayer. She tried to remember it in Latin. She sang it sometimes. She stopped when she reached the swidden farm. And began to dig for the yams. He looked at her from a distance. The sun was kind to ...
  • Slut
    It must be my imagination. Or is it a curse. There is a man who keeps following me. In the day. It’s like he had seen me for the first time. At night. He is a hungry animal. He prowls me. I cannot cast him aside. I walk to work in the morning. He sees the skin behind my knees. ...
  • The Circus
    He thought that he would do her a favour. The delicacy of the night. Her hairless pudding gaped. Confectionery of the gods. His mouth spread the entrée. She did not like that at all. His hands seized her buttocks. To steady the target. The great articulator. The agile serpent wagged. Between the crust and the icing. Her brown sugar melted. Saccharifying ...
  • Threshold
    There is simply no delectation greater. For your consideration. The swither and perspiration of a gratified man, sr. Your servant, jr. Without the profit of a cut-rate whore. A stripling for your coitus emeritus. I am your servant, your consideration, flat-rate. Today only. For tomorrow I may be as the Summer. In heat, prickly, high. Thereafter, I would be as ...
  • First Kiss from Compostela
    He is as the rocks of Compostela. Broken by the drills of construction. Workers heaving under the sun. Sweating their thighs like cattle. In a salt cure ala mechado. They gazed at him with desire. The men of the valley of rocks. He was smooth and undiscovered. Proper in his gabardine. He is quarry and fair game. He is as the ...
  • Resistance
    They sat on the grass. Young Li and Madam Chu. He will read her his poetry. She will talk to him about it. He’d written it in a small notebook. Bound with linen. With ties that fell around his wrist. Pale skin. His fingers flipped the pages. The last poem. He wrote it last night. While anxious of this meeting. Madam ...
  • Remember the House in the woods
    It was much like in the early morning. The certainty of a clear day. After too many days. Of either grey or blistering. She reserved a poem. In tears when it was written. Now she reads it with the smile. Of prophecy and determination. Her heart is the house in the woods. Now more than ever. She knows. This is ...
  • Fireside
    He came in the night. To take her back. Her child body. On the ground. Her shadow danced. By the fireside. She breathed. She is alive. He sat on the ground. He wept. She is asleep. She didn’t hear. The night. They watched with him. They waited. Until the light. Fatima Lasay, Pagbilao, Quezon Province Friday, May 2, 2014
  • Diplomacy
    This man loves me but I cannot feel his love I cannot see his love it is a different language spoken in places where I would never ever visit and so one can only wonder how did I ever come to be with this man if he is there and I am here if there ...
  • There You Go
    Boy has she got some sense of tumour, that woman, she got more lumps than a pineappple has eyes, and what about when she was singing and playing the piano with Brian Tumour and the Hormones, she was just a kid then and folks told her, if you was a boy you’d go places, oh ...