this little origami life
lies on the floor with torn wings
what happened to days meant only
for kissing daisies while standing on pointed toes
was it in my absorption in the bright colors
that time seemed to have stopped and jumped simultaneously?
perhaps i should start counting and recounting petals
the way others do with sheep to dream
isn’t it what you wanted anyway
a math i can never understand
where you and i amount to a ripening womb
whose fruit is neither yours nor mine
sweet nectar ignorant of parched throats of those
whose heads are hanging and have browned–
from thirst of love and truth and life;
innocent and uncorrupted by all that we are
Your Flesh is Sweet
Your flesh is sweet
and tender
it melts
on my tongue
a raincloud on
a sunny day
consumed
by a hungry blue-ness
you inhale water
as i do air
and speak in bubbles
that i drown
in my language
to touch your words,
which i will never know.
My catch for the day
fresh from the lake
tomorrow again
another you.
Junior
Fiction by Teresa May Mundiz | January 20, 2008
Listen to me, Jun. To tie a box, you have to make sure that you have strong straw. Strong straws don’t break easily even if you pull it hard. And once you twined it around the box, the straw would hold your box in place. I told you that before. Remember?
Now, hold the end of this straw and shove it under the box as if you’re scraping. Follow my lead. Here. You shove it this way then pull the other end upward. Straws are puckered, so be careful not to split the thread. Don’t even try doing it. Then, bring together the ends of the straw and do a knot. Just a single knot, though. That’s good. Now, twist the straw and shove it again underneath. Pull it up. No. Do it carefully. You’re breaking the straw.
Night Out
Poetry by Lyda May Sual | January 20, 2008
Tonight’s no night for stories and poems
The moon’s fair, witches are out leaping
from eaves to twigs
I paced about; heard them sing
“Come catch the moon about to fall.”
Paghatag ug Ngalan / The Act of Naming
Poetry by Ana Maria Yugalca | January 20, 2008
Ali diri
ug hubui ko.
Unaha ug limas ang akong utok.
Kana gyud! Hinay-hinaya ug
limpyo ang hugaw nga sudlanan sa akong
kahambog.
Sunod, ihuho ang akong dughan.
Lugita ang gahi nga kasing-kasing
unya tuhuga’g lawum.
Continue reading Paghatag ug Ngalan / The Act of Naming
Making Real Friends in GenSan
Nonfiction by Rea Gene Remegio | January 6, 2008
Pioneer Avenue is a place in General Santos City that has made me feel the real spirit of friendship that no other friendship networks can provide, not even the ever-famous Friendster community over the Internet. Having lived in General Santos City for eighteen years, I feel so proud that Pioneer Avenue has come such a long way. The whole length of Pioneer Avenue extends from Sydney Hotel to Chowking on one side and from Ramon Magsaysay Memorial Colleges to Golden State HRM laboratory on the other side. The place is purely a commercial area. It was named Pioneer Avenue because it was where the first settlers of General Santos City had lived — “the pioneers.”
The Clock
Poetry by Gregg Galgo | January 6, 2008
He whose hands
never grow weary
of moving on,
marches with cadence,
round and round —
as if that were its only purpose —
to race with time
and never look back.
Trapped but Free
Poetry by Gregg Galgo | January 6, 2008
It has always been
like this:
The birds are locked in cages
and fed;
a gold fish is placed
inside a cool aquarium;
and the big brown dog
is tied to a post,
standing on guard
while the master
attends to his other pets.
Continue reading Trapped but Free