with a bit of "the significance of essence" (ang kabuluhan ng kakanyahan)

ako'y pinoy sa isip, sa puso't damdamin
at may paniwala sa sariling atin
gawaing pinoy maipagmamalaki
isigaw sa mundo at ipagsabi
na...
Dito sa Silangan ako ay isinilang
Kung saan nagmumula ang sikat ng araw
Ako ay may sariling kulay na kayumanggi
Ngunit hindi ko maipakita tunay na sarili
Kung ating hahanapin ay matatagpuan
Tayo'y may kakanyahan dapat na hangaan
Subalit nasaan ang sikat ng araw
Ba’t tayo ang humahanga doon sa Kanluran (Francis "kiko" Magalona)

(Gloc 9)
Bato bato sa langit
Ang tamaan’y wag magalit
Bawal ang nakasimangot
Baka lalo ka pumangit
Pero okay lang
Hindi naman kami mga suplado
Sumabay ka sa amin na parang naka eroplano
Sa tunog ng gitara
Kasama ng pinakamalupit na banda
Pati si "kiko"
Magaling-hindi parin kayang tapatan
Parang awit na lagi **** binabalik balikan
Stop-rewind i-play mo
Nakapakasaya na para bang birthday ko
Alam mo na siguro ang ibig kong sabihin
Hindi na kelangan pang paikutikutin
Baka lalong matagalan lang
Lumapit at makinig na para iyong maintindihan
Mga salitang sinulat na hindi ko papel
Pero pwede ilatag
Na parang banig na higaan
Kapag hinawakan ang mikropono parang nabubuwang
Eh kasi naman siguro
Ganyan lang kapag gumagawa kami ng bago
Medyo nabibilisan
Hindi mo naisip na pwedeng mangyari
Magkasamasama lahat ay kasali!

(solEmn oaSis)
minsan ko nang ipininta
aparisyon ng aking obra
doon,,, manipulasyon lamang ang kontra
pagkat ilusyon lang ang gamit kong tinta
o pareng makata
imulat ang mata
sa larawang likha ng madamdaming kataga
kung itutuon sa puso't isipan, titimo talaga
sa isang alagad ng sining
walang boses na matining
ang tulad nating mandirigma ay isinilang
upang ang kapayapaan ay isaalang-alang
bato-bato sa lawak ng langit
hinde tamaan wag magagalit
sa aking apat na sulok ng panitik
mensahe ko sa quadro ay hitik
ang lihim sa likod ng lalim
may gintong butil na di patitigil
lantaran man ang talinghaga
patagong kaway agwat ng kataga
sapagkat sa bawat pag-ani
ng parirala sa aking balarila
muli ngang sisibol itong binhi
at para sa kanya...ako ay nag-punla

(curse one)
bilang isang nilalang na sumumpang
mag hahatid ng mga musikang
kaylan man ay hindi maka-kalimutan
at inaalay kahit kanino man
patuloy lang susulat ng tulang
sumusugat-gumugulat ang kantang
nakaka-mulat ng mata. Anu mang
pag subok kayang kaya pag nag sama sama na
ang mga sundalo ng kalsada

The curse. Kiko had forgotten temporarily.  

Long ago, his family spoke of a curse.

From a lover's wound.
Some say she was born in the air.
Her parents were of the sky.
& unspoken infidelity led to her birth.
When she was born, she fell from her mother's womb tumbling down to the ground.
Her mother ripped life's cord from her belly, fighting her infant child as they fell.

The daughter found love & devoured it quickly.
A fury of passion & promises broke with secrets held.
Tinted with momentary happiness & dwellings of depression.
Everything love was supposed to be, she had. & everything the master told of her love she felt.

She ate her lover.
Devoured first his soul & ground his bones into powder.
Charred his handsome flesh & played with his muscles.
She pasted his muscles together with the soup of his bones.
His soul became her mask.
She loved her lover.
Guilt washed over for this new ******.
& thus born, with her carnage, a new identity.

She was void of Death. Death had not seen her born & was blind to her life.

How pleasant to know Mr. Kiko
Whose nose is remarkably big—
Whose soul blazoned with a poetry freckle—
Whose black hair resembles a wig—
He who cometh from Uganda—
He who most of his poetry all to his lass—
Though some say, "such, such propaganda"—
But to Him as pure as green of grass.

How pleasant to know Mr. Kiko
Who sleepeth late in the dead of night
Gazing about ancient star's glow
That ever beam long and bright—
Bright—but not as his lass's limpid eyes
Bestowed never upon seraphim above—
Though some say—"such, such lies
Of a swain drownded in a pool of lurve."


©Kikodinho Edward Alexandros
Jumeirah, Dubai. 13th.Feb.2018.

TO PUT the art and talent of Mindanaoan fashion design into the spotlight, Kagay’anon fashion designers put their hands together to organize the 5th Mindanao Fashion Summit at the Limketkai Center Rotunda from August 4 to 6, every 4 p.m.

“Being a core event of the Higalaay festival, the opening salvo, the Mindanao Fashion Summit can really highlight fashion designers here in Cagayan de Oro and also in different points of Mindanao to let everyone see what they can do in the world of fashion design especially now that there are only so few opportunities for these designers to show off their works to the public. This is why we have the Mindanao fashion Summit because Kagay-anon designers believe that even if they join national fashion shows like the Philippine Fashion week, most of them still aren't getting the right encouragement as a fashion designer.” said Robbie Pamisa, the overall organizer of the event.

The Fashion Summit is a three-day event composed of seven sub-categories such as the Mindanaoan collection, the Menswear collection, and the Ororama orange collection for the first day, the Guest Designers’ collection, the Fashion Institute of the Philippines collection and the Loop Lifestyle Fashion Show for the second day, and the Holiday Grand collection for the third day which will serve as the culmination of the fashion event.

Mindanaoan Fashion designers from Cagayan de Oro as well as Davao, Butuan, Iligan, and Bukidnon have come to showcase their talents. Some of the fashion geniuses of the event include Alma Mae Roa, Angela Soriano, Ann Semblante, Benjie Manuel, Boogie Musni Rivera, Gil Macaibay III, John Mark Magellan’s, Joshua Guibone, Juniel Doring, Kiko Domo, Mark Christopher Yaranon, and Mavy Cooper de Leon.

One of the highlights of the event is the Oro Fashion Designers’ Guild and the Designers Assembly featuring a collection of clothes using Mindanao material such as the Mindanao silk. Sponsors such as Ororama and The Loop Towers will also be showcasing their products in the fashion event.

“Even student fashion designers from the Fashion Institute of the Philippines have been encouraged to participate so that they will be able to experience how a fashion show works. This is also a way for us to fulfill our mission to be another avenue for fashion designers to show what they have,” Paisa said.Read more at:http://www.marieaustralia.com/short-formal-dresses | www.marieaustralia.com/long-formal-dresses

Kiko saw.
With every passing moment he grew weaker from his conquests.
They were leaving behind galaxies.
Weight trailedhe & his lovers.
Unable to comprehend these galaxies,
unaware of their mechanisms
& how to dismantle them,
they scarred their eyes
& built bridges to others.
Taking stones from the past
& trying to build a future,
never searching,
never creating forms of their own.

I look out my window for you. In the night & often in the day. It's a foolish search, but this world is not so large. Do you see me? Traveling to town for onions, you sweat. The sun holding you hostage.

Run far. Run fast. Come home. I am waiting Kiko.



The colossus wears his mask & peace is restored.

kiko i'm breathing
your lust's air
storms of our lifes
and our pasts

we share childhood memories
we sleep together
we feel each other

we are one body now
a body made of
two halves

we are one person now
no need to hide anything

playful lights
warm winds open windows
the ocean inside our body

we are coming together

Let me swap your window view with mine.
Better yet, let me open a new window
anywhere in the world:

Swap my clouds with the widow Lotta
that delights in the sight of six boys skipping
on the edge of an Amsterdam canal

who then furtively disappear into
the dark wide open doors of the
*** Palace Peep show across the street.

Swap my lonely rainy sky with Bess the
matronly Cotswold poet courting Badgers
to fight over tossed scraps of Savory Pie.

Swap my lulling dark with Akhenaten
gazing at the sacred African ibis as they
chant and soar over the Pyramids of Giza.

Exchange my blue with Jean Paul
watching yellow turn red to gray night
in time-lapse from his Cassis maison.

Barter my coffee for Rakesh’s tea
and his Hindi copy of the Yajur Veda like
a still life posed on a blue  window ledge.

Ransom unbargained Chiara’s Roman tableau
in red clay tiles surrounding a blood bell tower
beautiful enough for a young Da Vinci’s pastels.

Exchange breaths with Kiko as she panics
when a Tokyo bullet train convulses through,
a reminder of both our unstable lives,

Until memories of Mary dancing in the  
downpour of a Manhattan summer shower
fall through the hospitals, the last goodbyes—

until there I am, a scared little boy
starring out my bedroom window
awaiting dawn for another chance

to splash in the blue blue kiddie pool,
walk in the un-paned grass, shouting
to the white sky that follows me always.