TAT’s All, Folks!

MAMA

I hold her hand
And gain entrance to her heart
Always open and
Warm-like
Being swayed in a
Hammock on a fair day
At the seashore of childhood’s
Memory clay

She says, Ining
And that sums up
All that I am

Greatly loved
Eternal daughter of an eternal womb
Fountain of burgeoning hope
Source of life

Mama, teach me
How not to save
On love
And give it freely

How to forgive
The tiresome onslaught
Of history’s aches

Teach me how to renew love
Like the shy whispering rain
On that Sunday afternoon

When
All you did
Was hug me to your heart
And never let me go.

TIA PET

When I was small
And bragging promises
Of future treats
And undying love

You said, “I’ll remember that,
And write in my diary.”

We were travel companions
I, still little, and afraid of the sea
Your capable hands
That carried me on
A wooden plank
Through a ship’s door

Asleep on your shoulders
Despite a rocky bus ride
Confident that I will get there
With you on my side

Running to Naujan
Hurt by love and war
Couldn’t wait to see
What food you prepared
That can calm my heart

Where is that diary
Of my promises and wishes?
I want to read
What a little girl said
To an aunt
Whose love
Made my dreams come true

Yesterday I traveled to you
Through a calmer Mindoro sea
I stood vigil
Outside your white slab
Where you held Rome’s rosary
In your hands

I wish you whispered finally
How I could find
Our diary

I miss you
Terribly
I love you
Eternally

PAPA

Can you still see me
And smile
Through the mental cracks
Of pain

What thoughts were there
As I waved goodbye
With my little hands
And childhood uniform

I, clutching some books
And running down
The stairs

You, in bed
Facing the antique mirror
That sees my playground’s den

Memories of sliding towards
Soil and grass
Dirt and rain

But Papa slept in his bed
In white shirt and pajamas
Blanket always covering you halfway
Were you wearing socks?

Who now waves to you?
Do you still smile the same?
Will I see you soon?

Will I feel your arms engulf me
Once more
And call me,
Anak?

Papa, Papa!
I still remember
Your favorite lullaby

My gateway to slumber
You, standing up
And carrying me towards
Silence

Just smile,
And all is well, Papa
All will be well.

[a post-modern reflection]

I am a Self with many other selves
I am, as such, both One history and a history multiplied

I am both Truth now and future to be told

I gain Wisdom as I lose it
I embrace Meaning as I seek it

I am my Mother and my sister,
my aunt and my niece,

I have one Heart with many hearts
A mind that respects ignorance but ignores Nothing

As I become You
become Me
become We

Become
Be

The more I know
The more I don’t know

I
Am

Never
Still
With
Eternity

All the world
is me

And all of me
is She.

Writing this poem
Is like having a nameless craving
Words swirl and images dance
And my mind is a cacophony of
Word-sounds

I can taste the feeling
But all I seem to grasp
Are bargained truths,
Voyeuristic judgment,
Alas, simple enlightenment

Writing this poem
Is like seeing one’s love from afar
There is both hope and fear
Impatience and joy

Will he see me this time?
Will I hug him first?
Will I run without care?
And laugh without reserve?

Writing this poem
Is like jumping out of a plane
Free falling at 13,000 feet
Towards clouds
That are like intangible curtains

Clear

Swift

Liquid bliss