THERE is a color clouded underneath the walls of the roomput a foot, shove the shoe or a toe underneath its cloakin a graying green refracting light, it is imitating a rippleand the outside is there merely serving to contrast and nothing moreit sits and says that there—that there, is an internality,there—outside, she points—you will see an inside Is this not where the light breaks and changes...
We never really talk about our bodiesWithout eyes, all that’s left are the little of your cheeksfitting the curve of my hands; my arms,a hanging pretense of wings; the sole of your foot,a slope. The heel is a hill turned downward.The nape of my hips, a waterslide. Your hands on my pelvis, a firm request to waltz.There are many ways to encircle me–a hugor the resolute limbs you rest on...
Did you not thank me first, stranger? I hadn’t known it was the day of reckoning You had never asked me to spell it out for you By the watchtower, I confided an old photograph In a moment, I thought you saw through me againwhen I turn around I hold back my smile. You, as usual, were expressionless Have you seen enough? You have been here, where we are We discarded the blue light, raised the...
After Arkaye Kierulf’s Horses Ta cre yo na silencio,cae aqui escondido el maga palabra;el tantiada de un nana y con el dolor,cae el maga cosas bueno, pirmi escondido;amo este el rason por el pensamientoque dificil el mundo; sino el deberas,necita sabe lang tu busca con el secreto.Ta cre yo na creada, cae este comotomada de agua. Y cae el verdadta depende na de aton pensadasi bastante para canaton...
The child’s eye peeks into the holesOne to anotherOf the masjid’s walls, innocentOf the terror of old nights,Of wounds and laments. The holes won’t showThe burning trees,No longer the lifeless scree.The smoke invisible,The spilled blood dries. Only the swaying leavesDew from yesterday’s rainFlash before his eyes. He seesAnd hears the river revived. As he glancesThrough the eyehole once more,He...
How are the sunsetsOf the old mujahid?Melancholy overThe dormant, rusted boloThe sole unyoung rifleSpangled with scarsFrom trenches forgottenGnaws at his bonesThe growing dark.When will the sunset everSlip out without notice? The last rays through curtainHoles before himStays his solitude.His dead war comradesMarch in single file.He hears bombsFlight of bulletsSmell of earthDamp grass again. But...
I. In their bamboo huts, where bulletsCould trace them, they tried to hideBehind their mothers’ bodies as ifThey could be infants in wombs again. Their mothers’ pleas the only shield,“Tama na! Mga sibilyan lang mi!”But foes remained unmindful—the earsDid not hear what the hearts refused to see. Like dominoes standing, the mothers fell.Blood ran to the edges of bamboo floorsBefore they even hit...
to Mufti Ismail Menk When grenades rumbled in Lanao forests,I thought the dream would remain a dreamIn slumbers during nights of sweat and pain.The nights when more eyes were rather awake,Peeking at open windows, than asleep and calm. Now those eyes are fixed onto you, sparklingLike dew over leaves when the sun rises.I am the eagle observing everything. In this place where a Maranao sits with a...
Ikaw—ang langsanagapabilin sa lawas—sa pamangkot sa kamatayonsang imo amay. Hapos lang sadtoang makadakop sa dagatsang mga ginputos nga bangkay kag nagadamoang nagapundok sa tapangko ninyoagod makibalita. Ikaw, sa hunahuna—ara gihaponnga nagapabilin ang langsa bisan maugaang mga sinsilyo ukon bisan kapilahugasan ang bulutangan sang mga balaligya. Indi ikatingalanga indi ini maurot bisan...
Sadto nga tion, matulukan ang kabilugan sang adlawnga ginalubong ang kaugalingon sa kadagatan kag ginalagassang mga balud ang mga bata nga ginapalupad ang buradornga busluton. Indi ini magpadala sa hangin amo ginhaboysa tubi. Sa ila hunahuna, kon indi maglupad, ti tudluanmaglangoy. (Indi bala kinahanglan gamay ang mga buslotsang pukot nga ilubong?) Sa isa ka bahin, ginalumbansang manog-isda ang...