The Cellist

Poetry by | February 13, 2011

I wish I was your cello
in frenzy at the touch of your bow, stirring
as your erratic fingers pluck
my still but waiting strings, gasping
while you control your breathing
and dance madly
to the notes you were playing,
to the music that only a cello and the cellist can hear;
reverberating, convulsing, until the orchestra stops,
until the lights went off
that marks the end of our piece.

I’m listening.


Myan Declaro took up AB English Creative Writing in UP Mindanao and is currently working at Caraga State University.

A Rainy Day

Poetry by | December 14, 2008

A canopy of dark clouds
hovers above the city
like an old newspaper
covering a dead body.
Another victim
of the Davao Death Squad.
It never fails.
I see other headlines of death,
a barangay official ambushed,
an innocent citizen stabbed to death
while falling in line
to buy two kilos of NFA rice.
Media men being harassed.
It never fails to rain
in the afternoon or at night
the way people never fail to fill
the city’s square,
men of different ages and from different classes,
men seeking the company of others.
And then when it rains I wonder,
Does the greasy man in black ever sleep?
Does he ever drink coffee?
Does he ever like the rain?

—-
Myan May G. Declaro hails from Surigao del Sur and is currently a senior BA English – Creative Writing student of UP Mindanao.