Gaps, patches and in-betweens

Cañao different sounds distinct among the others yet in union with the spirit of the dancers. Grace Long neck, no neck Broad shoulders, small shoulders Curves, bones Waist, what waist? Slim hips, wide hips Soft thighs, firm thighs Large breasts, flat breasts Womanhood As different from One to another as their Minds, hearts and souls. Mindset Their words lashed, scratched, destroyed and hanged me in a courtroom with only the prosecution, no witness or defendant, and in your eyes I am distorted, ugly, evil and more delivering me to my early death in your self-made tomb. Oddity Sneers Spits Laughter Burning my ears Turning my heart into Ashes. Sowing the seeds you cringe at my thorns yet you were the one who planted the roses. Metamorphosis I sold my father’s gangsa and my mother’s tapis The dances and chants of my past As I dance to the beat of progress Fast cars and development Chanting not my community’s realities But memorized words I can barely understand much less pronounce Without ...

After nine months of being one, They wheeled one body inside the delivery room, And brought out two The only visible link between us is cut You breathe on your own I look at you and though the shape of the face, the mouth, are like mine, are not. They are solely yours. You lose interest in my breasts as You learn to eat the food provided by the earth and Not by mother. You crawled, stood up, walked And now cross the street without holding my hand anymore. You start leaving home for school, your friends, your own world that I am only a part of when you tell me your school stories A whole afternoon of each day Without me Eventually a full day Sometimes even nights now with sleepovers. An invisible knife stabbed my heart when you didn’t want me to pick you up in school Or decide not to go with the family to town You used to never want me to leave, or leave without me You slowly slip away from me As you gain and take hold of your life. During those precious moments when you put your head o...

I played with pots and pans and blonde little dolls In my fantasy world As they tried to shelter me from rough games, Crippling me of the strength I would need To bear their world’s pain. I held colorful balloons but never red or black Red is too strong, and black is taboo But no one knows why. I let them fly with a wish, a dream Of things I cannot do because I am a girl. I cried with every stumble, as was taught me tears are a weakness--for boys but “normal” for girls (am I normally weak?) I hid the tears of my ‘whys’ On wet pillows, under the blanket Protecting me with more blackness I loved and lusted in the dark Where it harbored the colors of the rain Reflected in the passion of the sea of life. There I learned to swim, hold on, let go, say no to shield and guard what is mine and that again, so I’m told, is wrong. So I choose not to tell lest I be damned for the hundredth time. I wear dresses, pants, long skirts, short skirts, Rubber shoes, slippers, stilettos, rags, No matter. I ...

February and March were not very pleasant months for me. I thought the cosmic universe was trying to teach me a lesson or testing my strength. First, I lost my wallet that had cash, all my Ids (SSS, company ID, CAP insurance, etc.) and my ATM card! A few weeks after, I lost the cash from the sales we had during late nights and early mornings of our Flower Festival stall, right inside our house! I was getting downright pissed. In less than a month, I lost about ten thousand pesos, which to me is a humungous amount, and some of the moneys were not even mine! (Our Flower Festival stall was composed of investments from a group of friends…) Kigao suggested that we get a chicken as an offering. “Ag-pitik” or “peltik.” Paul Fianza, suggested that I break a clay pot to stop the bad luck. And though I've been meaning to do it, something just kept coming up and I admit I keep forgetting my vow to do something ritualistic about my curse. Schedules were hectic and I was very much under a lot o...

Lives intertwine Like a tapestry of memories Warming the soul Like cobwebs forming as time ran, crawled, halted for a moment and sprints into faded photographs flashes of faces familiar thoughts capturing feelings that plummet and leap into tomorrow’s ghosts Tuesday, September 20, 2005

We were mostly deaf To their wise, sometimes stern voices; Oblivious of the scent of their perfumes that floated through corridors and classrooms, that will later strike us of a memory, a feeling. At times we tried to ignore the warm, sometimes firm, chalk-dusted hands Touching our lives at that precise moment When they were urging us Not to give up, try harder or offering silent, comforting “it’s ok” squeezes on our shoulders. Back then, we were cruel with our innocence careless with our youth, carefree with our time. Only time ran, so fast Faster than our then adolescent feet can take us. Halfway through the rat race we call life, Strides slow down, heavy with years, changes and choices. We look back with more wrinkles around the eyes A more mature outlook on the world They tried to ready us for. Flipping through the memories we see snapshots of awkward teens, unsure, but with zest, curious thoughts, crazy feelings, and the steady, stable angels beside us. Only now do we realize they...