Little specks of profanities

   c a r v e d     t h r o u g h

       and into my chest.

The pin point

ready to

implode


               I had my fill

               of pawprints on snow

               and cookie cutter dreams


Twine and hemp

left hanging by the big      bad       wolf

full of red

and dry meat


                                   Let sleeping dogs      sleep-

betray

                                   their post                and I

                                   shall walk               away

there are things worse than death. death is a release. A culmination
of things, of who you were. i come here to think
of all the things i can be thankful for.

the low lights are drowning the stars tonight.
they push them deeper into the heavens
like a fetus refused its way out.

a plane flies by where birds used to flock.
the sound of sirens and construction
pounding and clicking is acceptable tonight. i can talk to you

and not feel awkward. the crane rotates next to me.
i've never seen one of those when i was young.
workers carry on, laboring for minimum.

the gusts of wind blankets me with a chill. i embrace it.
the freedom of the wind. not knowing where it comes from or where it goes.
it could be you.

politics, in love, and war. ambivalent truth. corruption. bonded in blood. tied by fortune.

glass ribbons hold us
cracked open
by the wait

pregnant forces
unchanging tides
effortless needs

beneath a demeanor
i see a hammer
about to fall.

ants crawl in the spaces
between our eyes
they float in vitriol
black on yellow skin
churning in our silence

It's not because i couldnt live without you
I just want
to have those moments
we always talked about
to have closure before you go
to remember you
with a sense of accomplishment
knowing we completed something
i can hang on to.

Im not ready
to go on my own
knowing we started something
not yet full circle

I will paint a sky
of stars in our room
away

from burdening lights,
fill the road
with laughter
even as
the sun sets behind
a shadowy treeline

The city across the lake
will stay quiet
as ripples
make their way to shore

lather the sand beneath our feet
wiggle our toes
close our eyes
look up

and taste
the scent of manna
everyday for the first time.

i look for you under the walls
the silent facebook smiles

plastered on top of my bare skin
are wires counting down... ten... nine...

i think of your smile... eight... seven...
crookedly endearing... six... five... makes me come... four... three...

back to where... two... hide-and-seek... one...
is a game i shouldn't play.

did i tell you how

the little bird sang on

the way down to

the ground?



did i tell you where

the little bird met

the sound of

"thud"?



did i tell you what

happened after

the little bird lay

quiet and

still breathing?



yes. i

still am.

when the precipice met
the abyss, they
f
   e
      l
         l
and tunneled into each other.


            losing my religion
            is my creed
            saying nothing out loud
            trying not to try.

i pretend
                    to want
                to have
            to be

i pretend, i pretend.

to tend --
to give attention to
to care for
to wait on

pre -- \before\


                        that is me.

It gropes, rapes,
torments with film
footage, triggers shots
framed through a magnoscope

in dark recesses, strangles
with bare words wrapped
around each breath, laughs
as it seizes control. Cold

steel flashes, bores
holes until it bursts
and splatters all over,
taints restlessness

with glimpses, fleeting
walks through dreams,
eluding slumber
in circadian pursuit.

I fumbled in the night
through the kitchen

thought about
Them

They still don't get it
Each call is an eyeroll

Swimming swimming
through the kitchen
floor, cluttered with receipts,
shoes, a rug.

They whisper a return
a neverland
a never there

...fell down and shattered into a gadzillion pieces.

It was an accident.
It was fate.
It was moment of weakness.
It was meant to be.

It was a gadzillion pieces of
broken words,
unkept promises,
unspoken hopes.

It was a gadzillion
drops of tears,
gusts of emotions,
jigsawed thoughts.

All those pieces swept into the wind,
spread across sand and sea,
whispered under every breath
and buried... buried.

They unfold and twist,
collide and explode.
Pressurized and purified,
proven true, it

lands back to the very heart of where it started--
with You.

.



                              it makes a difference

it rained                                                           one event

as the sun rose                                                the advantage taken

or vise versa                                                    versus

­the genius                                                        the­ one given

is the unknowable                                          is only patched

set up of                                                           depending on

what happens next.                                        the result.

Einstein stares at me
I see the blood wars and the blood feuds

The dripping white gold
catches into a tube

Lights are burning beyond December

                                                Beyond December

               I wait behind your curtain
               I wonder at the dark
               I make my cause
               I go the course

                        Tonight has made
                                                  a thousand lights
                                                                         flicker     in my mouth     catching
                                                        each drop
                              
                                                                        of scented hearths

                                                                        Burning ...
                                                                                            burning ...
                                                                                                                               into embers ....

In between the media, gadgets and social
anxiety, I have feelings too. They
tell me to stop and listen to something
other than YOLO and FOMO. As I browse
through feeds, the limbic
part of me raises the bar a little, while
the frontal part of me swings
between dissatisfaction and hope.

I look at you
from the peripheral field of my mind. I know
you won't stop. Craving
more is what we were made
to become. Somewhere in our heads,
we lost our hearts.

i write
because i am upset
and since when has writing become a form
of exploitation of the human condition
?!

this will all be over soon
he said
over? can that be replaced by fixed?
i don't want it to be over
i want my expectations to become real

i don't want you to go
that steady decline you've been in
you made me hope for too many things
we talked about
starting a business
suceeding in business
starting a charity
building communities
we planned out
my wedding
my family
your new house with a swimming pool
you said you'd give me away
watch whether i decide
to be a stay at home parent
or pursue a career
you're still convincing me
to take on a responsibility im not yet ready for
i need you...i still
want to need you
to be my support
at some point i'm not so certain
of my intentions

before
i met you
i was taught
to value
money
to build
a reputation
to keep
up appearances
above all else

with you
all i had disappeared

before
i met you
i learned
to do
what was convenient
to be
invisible to myself
to have
less than what was due

does it stop there?

maybe you taught me
the better part of me
maybe you showed me
the other side of things
but there is so much more
to hope for now

the just will have a cause
worth fighting for

things are at an end
all these will be done
it shall be finished soon enough

A slow ritual of praying at her bare feet had begun on the occasion of the first time he saw her apply chapstick —
the linoleum floor wiped with acetone, her cucumber skin, sacred red, bleach white and oiled slick.
He found that it suited him to be that close to her black toe nail polish, his eyelashes lying perfectly on the glossy finish
and even as he kissed the paleness of her soft marbled skin, all he saw was black as his eyes fell shut with hers.
They dreamt of perfect oceans and places inside the piña colada glasses where nasty secrets didn’t seem all that bad.​
​
~ fin ~​
– Martha Grace Hsieh and Daniel J. Flore III

-1-
how often come the slowed beatings
of time

unleashed by knowing
these devilish ifs
whens and buts

of roads half-built
and half-burnt

yet water still flows beneath
these eggshells of circumstance
widening to the same sea of chance

-2-
when have
the dust of men
received ear
if not by word or doing

when have stars lost light
even as the multitude of years pass
the dead shine just as bright

-3-
grateful hearts receive no ill
as unjust souls receive no heart

the head and the tail
do not mourn the body
for how fat or lean it was

how sweetly the fruit tastes
and sorely it rots

.                                 i am missing
                                  you so much it hurts,


                                 i am ill-
                                 treated and need strength,


                                 i am afraid,
                                 unsure of what to do.


                                you're imagining things,
                                 you said.

I can remember
what doing good
used to be -- give
food, drink, then
clothe & shelter,
visit imprisoned
and sick people,
bury our dead.

There is no money,
taxes or insurance
to complicate it all.

The ebbs and flows
of withered grass and moss green skies

Alone
I still hold your hand
watch seabirds fly
The pond searching between my toes

and i fly with them
Still holding your hand

Markings

    He asked the farmer, "What is holy?"
    In his eyes,
    it is the sun that burns
    his crops.

    He asked the fisherman, "What is holy?"
    In his eyes,
    it is the sea that drowns
    his ships.

    He asked the laborer, "What is holy?"
    In his eyes,
    it is the earth that burdens
    his body.

    He asked the soldier, "What is holy?"
    In his eyes
    it is the battle that destroys
    his home.

    He asked the priest, "What is holy?"
    In his eyes,
    it is the cross that bloodies
    his soul.

    He asked the child, "What is holy?"
    In his eyes,
    it is his father that treads
    his worth.

How to demarcate 
the silence 

behind respect 
vis-a-vis consideration? 

One is taken 
and [ab]used 
the other, reciprocated. 

The blind and blinded 
show their anger, 
make us fools. They 
call us stupid 
and uninitiated 

That is 
how they want us 
to remain. A threat 
to remove.

.                   I thought it was
                           CRAZY

                        the noun
                  not the adjective

      that led to my ultimate demise.

                       No, wait.

               I thought  i (t)  was
                    CRAZY         .

                   the adjective

    (t)  hat led to my ultimate demise
    T^



​

i am a passenger
free to roam on the east sides
of redundancy and table manners

flower markets thrive on dawn skies
arranged as tourist spots
the baker's fair selling eggshells
cracked on cobblestone soup
meatpies sold out too soon
appleseeds scattered for birds

i sweep them all up
and see patterns grow on my skin

let it not be said i did not try, i did not do
for too soon the the heat covers the shade as well
and not even the acacia can go without thirst

fill my cup with honeydew milk
and add bittergourd and salt

i can let philistine warriors come from the backroads
and enter the frontlines
if only to join you

I made it somehow
through the tempest

of you. Now
the voices have gone

and the heart doesn't
look any further

than what is here. I
know, right? I can

smile at losing
live with nothing
believe in myself
and best of all

just     BE.

i believe
it isn't love
it isn't bad intent
but it is full of the self

it wasn't intended to hurt anyone
or to rule over anyone
greed
and self-preservation
brought fear
and bred anger

it made you do things
and destroy others
enough to bring down
families

you will never know
the terrible consequences
of what you perpetuate
as long as you get
what you want
everything is collateral damage

i can believe
there were no ill
intents
only ill
effects
and

they will come for you.

wala naman makapagsasabi, kung kelan matutupad ang tunay na pangarap
    nalalaman mo pa ba kung ano ang binubulong ng puso?
    hinde pa ba ito natatabunan
    ng alaala ng kahapong pinagmulan?

    nais kong umangat mula sa putik na aking minana:
    ambisyon ang umuudyok
    pagkatotoohanin ng kasiyahan, ang bawat layaw ng laman
    na tulak ng mundo
    pabilis nang pabilis ang ikot
    habulin man
    unahan man
    kelangan pagbayarin

    bawat hubog sa atin ng tinaguriang
    collective consciousness
    nang kung sino man matalinong tumawag dyan,
    dyan! mapangahas na pangngalang marangal!

    sino ba ako pag humiwalay ako sa collective consciousness na yan?
    anong napala ko dyan, itinulak ako
    (di kayat, nagpatuak ako?)
    patungo sa isang kanto nyan
    dahil kelangan kong sundin
    ang moralidad
    ang paniniwalang
    gawa-gawa rin lang
    ng aking kapwa

    hinde ko tinatakbuhan
    ang aking
    social responsibility
    na syang dinikta na lipunan
    na dapat akong kumayod at tuparin
    ang oblgasyon ko sa kanya

    no.

    ang tinutukoy ko
    ay ang binubulong
    ng bawat saloobin

    natabunan na ito
    ng sigaw ng damdamin

    sinong makakapagsabi
    kung kelan matutupad ang pangarap?

    ito ba'y aking hahabulin
    pipilitin
    paglalabanan
    sa hilaw na panahon?
    (tulad ng sigaw ng damdamin
    na tumilapon sa akin?)

    ang bulong ng saloobin
    hinuhukay ko pa
    ito'y nasa ilang
    lantang lanta na ako
    binging bingi
    ngunit naririnig ko pa
    sinasakop nya ako
    umaasang bubuhayin ko muli.

"Look what I did!"
proud, eager eyes
that beheld a universe
"What do you think?​"

a glance
buried elsewhere
"It's nothing special.​"
"I did the same when i was your age."

eyes meet
"It's a phase."
and turn away
"You will grow out of it.​"

​
nary a word spoken further.

You cast that vermillion border
and glance at me with unswept eyes

Your voice holds pain and the comfort 
of solitude

I have journeyed you a hundred years.
The wind gets caught 
in your waves. You throw us back to sea

I hunger for you,
the clamor of rocks that descend into darkness 
and the clouds that hide your secret skies.

The ecstasy of you in the very 
pit of me waits to come out

and engulf me once more.

.

Midday sweeps in
a bronzing fury,

prickling its way
through skin,

pierces the core
to bleed

then, drenched
in affectation,

I turn away
to rest.

I will swathe
some lotion after,

for the scent
of longingness

follows.
A bath awaits.

Next to you
sunlight echoes
its last breath
forfeiting to touch
our fingers.
What comes next

is not lost.
This fantasy
between us
sits outside
your hardwood door
on my granite floor

lying in the rummage
of papers and voices.
The high notes
and low tides
of our time ran out
like your balding

heart. Maybe
my children will have
mental imbalances as well
I can feel it
trickling in like wearing
black stockings

and padded shackles.
Theres no simpler way
to throw caution
against the wall
and strangle it
to escape the fantasy.

I gave birth to an egg

It cracked on the way out



The pavement is lined

with hunger.

The mighty

is risen.



I gather her up

and wipe her tears.



No horses, no men,

no snakes, no dust,

no king, no queen

come to see me roll away.

The little pieces
reverberating

carries more than a share.


I knew nothing
until I knew

the terminal part of you.


        She continues dreaming
     in stage 4 of REM. The acquisition
        of all known things
    is built on fragility.

             Harsh realities stay as nothing
             and memories are all we have.


             He sips an empty cup
     m m m... pretends it's wine.

        He looks at her that way.
        

   How mighty fine we are
   to see the fullness of things.

.                      



                       Love, I write
                       you down,
                       send you flying across continents.                    
                  
                           It's a grey-sky dawn.
                           Kowloon bay calls me,      
                           the warmth of an imperfect city.






.

strawberry flavored pancakes and milk
and her under the beige umbrella on the patio licking the red top off the maple syrup bottle

dinner never tasted so good


- Martha Grace Hsieh and Daniel J. Flore III

We veered towards calle muerte. It is 
inevitable we come here. Before this, 
there was no us. All things was only
you. One year ago, you called me a
*****. One month later, i learned
about the affair, that i was the obstacle. 

Separation. It provokes anxiety 
and relief. For appearances, a
requirement of exchange needs
subterfuge. It won't help us
to seem greedy to others. I
will not relinquish what is
lawful.

Last week, you invited me,
say you will give stuff
due to me. Yet, not my 
pride? Let's not play
anymore. 

The drive back to my
place disquiets us.

We write the truth
What is
What could be
Not what never was

We write in convenience
Kept short
The necessary evil
Cut to the bleeding bones

We write
To hear the listener
To anger the mob
To announce the obvious

.....................

The soothsayer questions
Not the visions
Nor the whispers

The witch doctor
Dances in flames
Ruts in waters

The prophet profits
In times of plenty
In times of war

You find me waxing the floor
with my hands and some spittle.
A mirror of you,
papertrails and clips of words
brush aside gurgles of incoherent thoughts.

Midnight comes too late, bewitching
the deep lines on my face as your
hands wash clear the blood and putridness
of another
                      long,
                                   buried
                                                    day.

Left from center,
outside right,
fringes and gaunt.

The night was mine
alone just as everyone
in doubt and need.

Lingering inside
the day waits for no one
but the fortunate.

Ahead of me,
tentative fingers
seep through.

They tunnel between
dissolving ink,
dispersing the abysmal

trenches of waiting
tides....

that artist who brings red roses to his mother's front yard everyday.
He stifled a drunken rebellion
in time for us to sleep naked under comets and Jupiter's eye.

I never knew what became of his sister
or his wife.  He makes
the most beautifully haunting music,

the way the tell-tale heart beats under the boards.
I see him in black
against falling snow and a brown path.

No one ever thought to ask him what happened to his neighbor's dog,
or his newly manicured lawn. But there he is
each morning, walking down the street; and we greet.

I sigh each time he bows his head
and tips his fedora to cover his eyes as we pass each other,
hoping to see him again.

You say and i heard -
the ease of this pain,
the taming of the winds.

Howling the unspoken,
never knowing the light of things

is easily dismissed.
An imagined feeling,
a dreamful wish and such fancies.

How many times have you visited
and left messages and crumbs?

Seeing the entirity
before it ended,
and your footprints lifting me
until i flew across the sky
this dead night in the daylight.

Every snake and folly trampled on
and the dirt roads travelled us far from each place,
led me back without you.

So i listen now,
the silent vows fulfill themselves

in time.

There is a line
between the fields
of right and wrong.
We walk, and meet, and
pass each other by.
Beyond the ends of
what we see, our paths
shall cross once more.

Sabungan                                              Cockfight

­Sa pula!                                                  For the red!
Sa puti!                                                   For the white!
Anopaman dumating                          However they come
piliin ang magiting                              choose the valiant
tumaya sa tindig                                   gamble on their carriage
pagpaboran                                           and consider
bawat katunggali.                                 each competitor.

Sumiping sa dilim                                Make love with the dark
at sumigaw                                            and cry
Kristo! Kristo!                                        Christ! Christ!

Panoorin ang laban                              Watch closely the battle
sarsuelang mapanganib                      this dangerous sarsuela
kawatang sumasanib                           a thief takes over
sa aking piling                                      inside.

Sa bawat kong hiyaw,                          Every shriek
ang kada tuka, laslas                            each peck, a slash
nagmula sa dahas                                of ruthlessness and

lumilipana ang daing                           cries all around
dumadaginding ang bagsik                echo ferociousness
bawat laban pilit.                                  of this stilted struggle

Kristo! Kristo!                                       Christ! Christ!
sigaw ng sabungero                             screamed the sabungero
at ako'y tumigil.                                   I stop.

Sa pagpanaw                                        When all is gone
manalo                                                   win
matalo                                                    los­e
walang pareho tumingin                    no one sees evenly
sa aking balahibong                            my feathers
pula at puti                                           of red and white

sa alabok                                               on the surface dust
kumalat                                                 they lay

lumipad                                                 they fly

lumahong taimtim.                             and vanish without a thought.

i lie in this empty box
where sunlight shines through dust

my hand lingers on a knife

i see the alleyway and wait
watch dogs devour their meal

i wait for you to come

i tasted it
i held it

i am

atlantis can see
flames dance

across the milky way

i see fire
and i want you

to remember me

I do not see
beyond the might,
yet perceive
more than ought.
The craving of
a learned tale,
ability to carve out
an excuse to crave.

Hail to the conquerors!
Teller of greatness,
earner of sympathy,
foreteller of justice,
bearer of magnanimity.
We survive you.

Hail to the losers!
The day waits for you,
the night delights, passing
thoughts escape into
imagining immaterial
basis of deeds.

Soon, the distance between
falls near and
neither escapes surety.

For sport
And other fineries


Where 2 seas meet
Devoid of ourselves


We stray into
A collision --


I lie naked
Bled


Chained and dangled
This burden embraces you


Prepare burial
Spirits severed, set forth