Gardening by Accident

Poetry by | November 15, 2009

for Nanette

I wish I could tell you now
that you were right—
after two years
the pineapple head you had thrown
in the backyard has grown
and in fact, the strange
bromeliad is now the throne
of a lovely little piña,
still magenta in the base,
but already wearing a crown.
It competes with the thorns
and constant flowering
of the pink euphorbia beside it.
Also, the golden bamboo
you planted in the clay pot
to keep it portable
has broken through and proudly
taken root, right beside
the bougainvillea that had threatened
to die when the carpenter
chopped it down
to a stump.
It now bursts madly
into fuchsia revenge.
You have always known
it would all come to this,
didn’t you?
My wilderness of a garden
is profuse with paradoxes
and I grow lush
with a hundred eyes.

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When you die I will bury you

Poetry by | November 1, 2009

When you die I will bury you
I will have trees murdered
And have their corpses mutilated
To make a casket for yours
That is all

When you die I will bury you
I and our relatives
will be busy
Preparing your wake
Serving your guests
with coffee and biscuits
Presiding the bingo
Spitting out the prayers
That is all

When you die I will bury you
I will weep a tear
Say a good word
Express regret
And express sorrow
That is all

When you die I will bury you
That is all

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You Inside of Me

Poetry by | November 1, 2009

The alluring taste of sweet kisses
that sends impulses through my skin.
The warm breath
whispering into my ear.
Those velvety hands
caressing me all over.
Your heavenly tongue
that lingers in my body.
Yes, I want you inside of me.

Enticing lips,
biting teeth,
intense kisses,
hearts racing
heating gush of blood
driving me into insanity.
The tingling sensation
Of each others touch
Tethering into an indulgent embrace
Pacing with desire
Until both scream in blissful sensuality
Yes, you inside of me.

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Pagpanghinguto

Poetry by | October 25, 2009

Gilaksi ni nanay ang usa ka panid sa kalendaryo
Nahuman na ba gud diay ang bulan sa Pebrero?
Dungan sa iyang sitsit mao ang mapugsanong sinyas
“Duol ra kadiyot ug pungko dinhi sa tsinelas.”

Iyang gibuklad sa salog ang gilaksing papel
Samtang ako miyaka duol sa iyang tiil
Gibadbad niya ang lastikong bugkos sa akong buhok
Gitaktak niya ang sulud dayon ako gipaduko

Huma’g kahig-kahig nangahulog ang mga kuto
Daw mga nasakpang kawatang nagtapok!
Gidalian dayon namog pamusa
Usa pa man sa ulo mobalik ug tugpa

Makapanlimbawot ang ilang balhiboong lawas
Gaitom lang ang agi sa mga gagmayng Hudas!
Ang kanhing puting likod sa kalendaryo
Nahimong usa ka langsang menteryo

Nagkatag ang dugo
dugo sa kuto?

o dugo nako?

Ah,basta ang importante hayahay na akong paminaw
Gikumot na ni nanay ang kalendaryong hugaw
Kuyog ang panghinaot nga ‘di na ko kutohon pa
Aron wa nay mahadlok nakong motapad ug makigdula

Kung Hiktan Nako ang Bulan

Poetry by | October 18, 2009

ung puydi lang untang
talian ang bulan,
kaw-itan ko kini’g pisi
ug ihikot sa haligi

Ipaguyod ko ang akong payag
sama’s kangga sa kabaw,
ug salmotan ko ang bulan
sa iyang paglatagaw

Ako mohangad
Lili-on ug ngisihan ko siya
gikan sa bangag
sa gamay kong bintana

Makapamalandong ako…

Tuod, wala ako’y bitoon
apan higala kami sa bulan

Ipaguyod ko pa ang akong payag

Ug ipaguyod ko usab
ang akong kalag
sama sa kangga sa kabaw
nga sakyanan sa mag-uumang
gikapoy ug nagtukaw

Tultulan ako sa bulan
sa iyang tagoanan
sa mga higayong
masilawan siya sa adlaw

Hatagan kaha ko niya
ug bisan gamayng luna?
Tungod kay dinhi sa kalibutan
dili akoa kining yuta

Taud-taud
ipakita sa bulan
ang iyang tulumanon
ang iyang bag-ong porma

Monipis
Moniwang
Mahisama sa karet!

Karet!
Sama ka’s karet, higalang bulan!
Hait ug talinis.

Hay! Kung puydi lang untang
talian ang bulan

Apan karon, itugyan ko lang usa
ang akong mga damgo

Ugma, sa pagmata
puniton ko ang karet
ug mosakay sa kangga

magpaguyod ko sa kabaw
padulong sa kadaugan!

Grandparents

Poetry by | October 11, 2009

Grandparents are just dreams
Fleeting and passing each night;
though they’re mysterious, you won’t care
once you wake up.
Grandparents are only stories
Fleeting and passing every time,
Though wonderful, you won’t care
once you carry on with your routines.
Grandparents are mere bubbles
Fleeting and passing as they float
though they shine against the light
you won’t care, once they pop.
I never met my grandparents,
long dead and fled, like the stories
mother told about them.
I never cared.
But each time she told those stories,
I saw hurt gleaming in her eyes.
That’s why I started to care.

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Biko

Poetry by | October 11, 2009

your underarms
are bare and wet
as your old ladle
patiently danced
inside the giant kawa
the other strap
slipped
from your shoulders
your skin
cracked
dry like the desert
your armpits
tired and wet
maybe you still smelled
like last Saturday night
when he came home
his body swaying
to his own raging music
burying his face
in your armpits
his breath
like sliced ginger
his hand
a spear
around your face
forgetting you were once
the queen
of his kingdom
your ladle danced again
your armpits wet
your biko
wasted –
a sweet decay

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Villanelle For A Bumpy Ride

Poetry by | October 4, 2009

All my mothers will hum your lullaby
Hold tight as we ride the habal-habal.
And they will all forgive when you first cry.
Quietness falling, not failing the skies
Hold tight as we bump along the rough road.
All my mothers will hum your lullaby.
I will not pass the Abortion Road and die,
Daddy will drive us home before midnight
And they will all forgive when you first cry.
Stars blink and sing, and so do I
Listening to your heartbeat with my heartbeat
All my mothers will hum your lullaby.
I pray and am blessed; these tears will dry
You’ll breathe in all the poems that I will write,
They will all forgive when you first cry.
Grip tighter, for darkness will say goodbye,
Just sleep inside, my sweetest mistake
All my mothers will hum your lullaby,
And they will all forgive when you first cry.

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