Tumbang Preso

I do not write poems. Not with the directness of the sun in any desert. Not with their scorching absolutes; their blinding truths. I shut my...

Dear God, don’t let me be a martyr, even if that means I have to be a bitch. Help me not to do my duty, help me not to apologize. Help me no...

It was around this time of the year when I last heard from you. It was before the year I took you for gone. I was w...

And when I take this path I want to be ever so much careful. To break no twig; To lift no stones; To take nothing; And eat nothing That will...

As for life in the backwoods, Do not say I asked for it. In my country, this is the way to live. A stranger arrives wearing the face of a da...