Poetry by | February 8, 2015

You have a hundred year old’s soul
and a five year old’s lumiere,
A legend’s wisdom
and a newborn’s curiosity
When you fell, you laughed
because you spilled stars
and it painted constellations
on the cold, hard floor
When you flew, you cried
because your wings are wax
and the sun is its enemy
too close and never close enough
They shy away in your presence
because they see a shadow.
A big, black hole
ready to suck them empty
Truth is, you have universes
inside of you
there is too much that
flesh and bones could not contain
You shine so brightly
they’re blinded and think it was darkness
You exist so strongly
they couldn’t resist the force
So fill the blank spaces,
supernova in the void
Breathe in dust and clouds
blink for me, a star reborn

Krisna Liz Tantano is a BS Architecture student from UP Mindanao.

Paper Airplane

Fiction by | January 4, 2015

The first crash was accidental.

A boy sitting atop a tree, hidden in a tangled mess of browns and greens.

A girl lounging in the enormous roots of a tree that has been there since forever.

Bored out of his wits, he folded that awful piece of paper marked F-, and thus a paper airplane.

‘Blow, Blow, swish…’

“Fly away you blasted piece of paper and don’t come back until you give me an A+!”

Continue reading Paper Airplane