When I was younger,
I washed lettuce heads in cold water.
I would set them on my cutting board, gently,
as if my hands hummed with lullabies.

I lifted tomatoes from their cardboard carton beds
and lined them in a row like nursery babies,
my starched jacket always white and clean.

I knew romaine and bibb,
beefsteak and cherry.
I kept my hair tied back, my nails short,
the right knife sharp and at the ready.

I didn't know, then
that lovers remember the wine, not the greens;
the sugar, not the side plate.

I wish you were here to kiss my hands
with their swollen knuckles and cut scars.
What was I doing with my tenderness
when I had someone who wanted it?

When I was younger,
I had a paying job, a small talent,
and a driver with a dolly at the back door
coming every day to keep my walk-in cooler stocked.

I thought that was bounty.
I thought there was no harm in staying on through another fall,
never considering that what I made was not mine,
Or that someone else was paying for it all.
_

Salty rain begins
Gliding its way down trunks
Getting lost in fabric leaves
Or resting gently on cheeks
Basking in the heat of skins

Molten bean soup
Housing shoals of ****
And Silken soy islands
Habituated by scallion trees
Brewing the perfect flavor group

Then a beam above
A blinding light
Followed by silver
Crashing with all might
With the grace of a bellied dove

The crash pays homage to Moses
Splitting tectonic plates
Paving a path to the scoop
The stew child ascends
And the gap below closes

Into the cave it goes
Entry barred
a serpent slithers
Corralling refuges back to nest
The only ritual it knows

The rain is dense
A body is a temple
This temple a sauna
Coated in scorched poison
It yearns for a cleanse

Watered Calvary sweeps in
Purging vile spice
With soothing touch
But glass only holds so much
And the cure is left thin

Slamming the clear dome
Icebergs swish
In a desolate tomb
But a savior passes by
Returning sea to the arctics home

Hope is restored
Now it’s time to desecrate
Pangea resumes
It won’t stop
Until bowl is fully toured

Take a big earthen ***
Add all the people there,
Even if you like it or not...
Now pour in a cup of care.

Watch with patience for a while
Let it simmer till you see some smile,
See the colours blending in—
And nothing different can be seen.

Now add some praise and respect,
A pinch of gloom just to offset.
A handful of joy to your taste,
Melded together to make a paste.

Put the jar of segregation apart—
Instead, add some integration with heart.
Mix it well and leave it to rest,
To make it taste its level best.

Garnish it with some grated love
Little humanity, for the cherry on top.
That's how you make a lovely dish—
The dish of love, the dish of peace!

Éclair My Heart

Fill me up with custard’s glow,  
soft as secrets whispered low.  
Chocolate coat our midnight vows,  
each bite a bow that time allows.  

Glossy tease of vanilla sighs—  
declare your love in pastry cries.





.

That is a goat.
His eyes have rectangals for pupils
It is now charging
Food in a tiny cup is extended in full fear
It hits you square on your arm
Because at four
That thing is massive
But it is super fun and we paid good money.
Now ride this elephant at the Circus.
Mom can't go.
She is too fat.

As rough and as difficult
life may well be
it's still so deeply beautiful
down in the
philippines

The beauty of the village
might not be apparent
at first glance.
What deters at first
might be the killing
and the nature of a life
dictated by chance.

But once you start accepting,
adapting and reflecting,
you'll notice that it's just
the island way of living.

Nurture nature's native nest,
share what yield the fields have held,
food to feed for feeling folk,
care about your neighbors health.

Live in tune with natures wrath
but don't exceed her measure
stick to filipino paths,
thus warmth and generosity
will provide you with pleasure.

Red Horse Strong for everyone,
Tuba, Tanduay and San Miguel.
Menthols, **** and beetlenut,
you just have to treat us well.

Sabong's not for the soft,
it's difficult to watch.
Roosters duel over
who avoids the cooking ***,
blades fly through the air
and blood adorns
the sand with spots.
The winner stays a champion,
the loser's in a plastic bag, granting us that evenings dinner
and we've just made our money back.

Wet markets aplenty,
with fish you've never seen before.
Smells of seasalt, blood and gore,
mix to form a memory,
akin to sobering melody.

Watch out for the Aswang
and do not break a mirror.
Keep the deadbolt shut at night,
to avoid unpleasant surprises.

The ocean's at your doorstep
and so are the bananas
and the coconuts.

Skinny teens disguised with bandanas,
strapped, riding through the village.
Don't worry they're just cousins,
standing vigil, chasing cops.

Fistfight near the fish ponds,
neither one backs down.
Tilapia watch eagerly
for who'll sink to the ground.

Their brother came by earlier
selling pastries with his friend.
Buy three each for everyone,
your total's fifty cents.

Everywhere there's laughter,
music, sun and food.
Really nothing better
than the filipino mood.

It tasted good
So many flavors
I truly enjoyed it
I enjoyed food

I loved it until I thought of my body
Then my stomach lurched
It coiled and warped
My hunger retreating
After only two bites
I couldn’t force any more down

I hated the feeling
I hated that I couldn’t do it
I hated the food

But what I hated most
Was my brain
For forcing me to think like this
I did it subconsciously
Not on purpose
Never on purpose

It was all my brain

Moments that have changed me
Played me
Over and over
Trying to sedate me

I know who I am
That isn't a maybe
People find it hard
They want to tear me apart
To take my heart
To ruin,
my art

You've changed
A voice to me that always complained
People who put me on display
To portray
Want me to obey
A role-model ready to play
Maybe I should just,
let them take me,
a buffet