my love for words

until these words dressed up what used to be a string of catatonic boxes ...
it felt like some kind of perpetual dread
train rides ...




Y de pronto, no estás. Adiós, amor, adiós.
Ya te marchaste.
Nada queda de ti. La ciudad gira:
molino en el que todo se deshace.

At bigla kang nawala. Paalam, pag-ibig, paalam.
Nakaalis ka na.
Walang iniwang bakas. Umiikot ang siyudad:
parang gilingan na dinudurog ang lahat.

And suddenly, you are not there. Good-bye, love, good-bye.
You already left.
Nothing remains of you. The city turns:
It is a mill where everyhing falls apart.






In memoriam of Ikot Poetry project of UP Quill some years back. Kudos to this Promotional Reading Campaign. Hurrah to all voracious readers and "hippie*" writers ;)

Thanks to God Antifornicator (sextonfurnival) ... Instituto Cervantes, the DOTC, above all, my gratitude to the the dead and the forgotten ... a poet's ashes immortalized ... tattooed in moving walls of steel.

suddenly back to me :)



*Hippie, a noun to many, an adjective to my friends Arnold and Jonathan, their way to describe, my raw, stubborn way of writing. This writer's refusal to learn the conventional techniques in the four cornerstone of a university ... primarily because she gets a bit constipated with rules .

Writers and artists ... they have no rules. (pun intended.)