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SubscriptionsSites I Read
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| Narito Ang Langit Here is Heaven
Narito. Here.
Narito ang langit. Here is heaven.
Narito ang puting Here the white
liwanag ng parol, light of lanterns,
ang dilaw ng umaga, the yellow of morning,
ang pula ng dugo. the red of blood.
Narito ang himig Here the song
ng panggabing ibon, of evening birds,
ng ulan sa bintana, of rain on windows,
ng mga yapak mo. of your footsteps.
Narito. Here.
Narito. Here.
ang langit. is heaven.
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| Pasteboard stars oscillate
from black strings tied to apron. We
watch her sway. Her cherub smile put on
like the freshly ironed shirt she hangs
from the door as though filled
with the flesh of nonexistent names
we scratch on tree bark and leaf. Her
fingers waltz to tunes long
lost to phonographs, turned
crowns from paper cut out
from discarded cardboard still fresh
of the smell of tobacco. Her world
in straight lines. The windows naked
of white curtains now twirled about
the slender waist, now raised high
above dainty head, a cape, a veil. She
whistles softly, her feet bare of strap
or sandal. Spring Maiden has come.
The spring lost to the autumn
of paper plates and garlands browned
by sun and rain.
She will still dance.
She does not notice.
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It's been a while since I last wrote anything. Still, not bad considering.
I've suspended the use of the original layout as I can't seem to solve the alignment problems I've been having with it. Until That has been solved I'm switching to this layout for now.
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