Post by thepoetslizard on Oct 10, 2008 15:52:50 GMT 2
Remé Antonia Grefalda returned to poetry after seven years of dabbling in photography. In 1997, Dorrance Publishing (Pittsburgh, PA) published her first book of poetry, baring more than soul. She is pioneer, publisher, and co-editor of the highly successful literary webzine for Filipinos in the diaspora, Our Own Voice www.ourownvoice.com
"Brightman before the Endnote"
How insistently a tendril
How deceptively
You've inched to span
a new domain
Piercing through Alhambra's
centuries of slumber
Awakened now and startled
By an incalescent serenade
How cradle-stilled must all our rages be
To reach a trembling Luminescence
How brittle-bowed our stoic masquerade
Beneath a soaring Agnus Dei
Web source:
Our Own Voice, July 2004
www.ourownvoice.com/poems/poems2004b-grefalda.shtml
*
3 poems from
transcient: a never-ending drift
(to be published 2011)
"A Seasonal Plea"
Linger on, September—
Take your zone’s sweet time.
No rush. No hurry.
November.
Slow-fire yellows
Till they burnish bold.
Deepen all your tepid reds,
Then blaze, wild child,
Chase sienna into corners.
Play silly tossing corn-flake games!
Then while away, and if you will,
Brisk-fill the dawn
With your silent wailing song . . .
Then barely, but with a blush-on drop,
Sweet Autumn,
Fling your crimson cup!
Engulf me now to fullest blaze
Till darkness blinds
And winter chills
. . . on waking find you gone.
*
"summer carpe diem"
Helped a friend build a patio once
doling out nails while he hammered down
the two by fours
Couldn't handle me a saw
so I learned the art of hammering
taught my fingers proper placement
avoid landings I might miss
Patios are weekend projects
drummed up by would-be carpenters
patios feel somewhat up there
granted they're only two feet above ground
Ahhh but they're great
for private private parties
solo barbecues at brooding dusk
breakfast peppered over with pollen over easy
one can put down the new york times
to check on new buds growing
Gave a friend a hand once
we built a patio I've not seen in years
miss the sight of homemade blueprints
miss the sound of sweaty cuss-outs
where to build what
what to hang where
hey more here
wait more there
nohere yesthere where
often miss that patio wonder
wonder what became of friend
*
"jitneytropolis"
Iscariot struts his stuff here.
Not with you, Sin Jin.
Nor there, Sao Paolo.
Ay Santissima! is not a saint caressed
But a spewed invective by a fawning lola
Riding out mean streets.
Get used to it!
Here jaywalkers reign supreme! Here blips
and honks converse in tune with revving engines.
Crazy Merkana, stay home …
Don't give away your balikbayan status
By a quest for dirty ice cream!
I lost my stateside flip-flops boarding
a Blumentritt racer, saw them float away:
Noah's pair escaping the ark.
What's fair, what's pocket change?
Seat's wet with rain,
But “GodknowsHudasnotpay”
*
3 poems from
baring more than soul (Dorrance, 1997)
1.
Us two
on the head of a pin
slow-dancing
the separateness
way
savoring
the fall of liquid seconds
into endless time
look away
please
for I may never
leave your gaze
nor stop
the sense of wonder
from gathering you
(1992)
2.
for you are hesitant and shy
more half-way mine
than all.
it stands to reason
why I dream in sighs,
and close my eyes
to all your sweet response.
and dreaming, never knowing--
never knowing what is true--
how icy all the warmth we feel
compared to the Unknown!
(1964)
3.
some days
there are no hurdles:
no cloud, no pride.
some days
you sing so sinuously
through my being--
so willingly I laugh,
so willingly I learn.
(1988)
