Poetry by | March 24, 2013

comes not in the form of sweat
nor in movement
but in the creases
of pillows and sheets
white as lies
where we carve
our secret reverie;
no dosage of metaphor
when it comes to you
and the heat
of your lips
against mine
and the brace
of your body
warm as your skin
and your breath
and the touch
of your fingers
on the course
of my spine
and the need
to confess
and plead guilty
in between
our legs

Gino is a graduate of Xavier University Ateneo de Cagayan. He was fellow of the 2010 Davao Writers Workshop.


Poetry by | April 3, 2011

It is evening. Outside,
the sound of a cricket
is more audible
than silence.
It is true:
the saddest thing
in this world is lying
down on bed, alone, listening
to its song,
floating in resonance
with the whimper of wind,
leaves and twigs,
as if having
a language of its own
to speak. There,
now, the darkest
night becoming the bluest.
As if its tone,
single like its syllable,
has many words to teach
about loneliness
that is just
as silent and miserable
as caressing a pillow,
lightly, enough to hold
the weight of tears.

Gino Dolorzo just finished his bachelor’s degree at Xavier University Ateneo de Cagayan.

This Stolen Moment

Poetry by | September 12, 2010

It feels right to lie
down on these sheets
damped with our own sweat.
It must be like falling
in love with them,
as I for you,
where we hide
ourselves, naked
like truth, secured enough
to let go of our fears
tonight that I’m the one
whom you fix your eyes on.
Not him. Not even
his eyes, dazzling of love-
promises, like the diamond
you let him wear
‘round your finger.
Like the pearls
he surprised you
after your first, I wish
your last, anniversary kiss.
Unlike our love alone
that can’t afford
to objectify itself
through those shiny stones.
Tonight I can care
less. Or not at all. Since there’s
no absence of heat
when it comes to your touch
like you do to me
on these sheets we have
rented for a short time.
Like each chance
your lips warm the chill-
worn cracks of mine
that makes me realize
how cold the night
like the accusation
of the world outside
that says we’re wrong.

Gino studies at Xavier University – Ateneo de Cagayan, Cagayan de Oro City.

Father Leaving

Poetry by | August 1, 2010

Your steps are heavy
like the baggage
you carry and drag
packed with uncertainties.
A flood of tears
drowns this blue hut
as you move out.
Your slouch suggests
how we will be missed
like your breakfast value meals,
the crisp of unpaid
water and electric bills,
the bittersweet song
of Totoy wailing for milk,
and the spicy blaspheming
of mother at your crucified God
for putting nothing
but salt in our rice.
I wonder how time
will fly without you
as you fly too
towards Saudi
where you will scrub toilet
bowls and urinals in exchange
for our bright future.
I wonder who will cradle
my face when my eyes turn
misty in times like this –
the way I have been meaning
to put this poem
out of its misery.

Gino Dolorzo from Cagayan de Oro was a fellow at the Davao Writers Workshop this year.

Your Breakup Kiss

Poetry by | June 27, 2010

Is between my lips and yours
And the rain that bathes us
Unprepared like your parting.
This time, the heat
And prick of fondness is gone.
Bitter like your lipstick
Marking its trace with pain, provoked
By the scent of your breath inducing
Sting to my chest, while my pulse ticks
Weak like my heartbeat. Maybe
Because they too sense that
Here in the street,
Where we first met and kissed,
You will soon leave me
Alone with the sky weeping
Over your footsteps, heavy
As the fall of rain creating
Ripples on this puddled concrete
Like how tears will drop, away from me.

Gino Dolorzo studies at Xavier University – Ateneo de Cagayan.


Poetry by | January 31, 2010

For Henrietta Diana de Guzman

They cling to your name; rose.
They mark your tears and fear
of protests, protruding
like their desire to have you
slipped past my grip. Your image,
your scent is unjustly treating
me as martyr who breaks
vows worn ’round his finger. Who falls,
folds his heart and eyes, but not much
to keep resentment. Who longs to take
a dip with you in deeper sea
of blankets moistened by sweat
of your struggled movements
evoking fire and innocence.
Who has lost his limits. Lie on me,
rose, let me pluck those thorns.
Gently, let me.

Gino Dolorzo is a senior education student at Xavier University-Ateneo de Cagayan.