dragon

bridges
, i said

but let me backtrack for
a moment

bar: quiet until
she crept up
from the darkness
to my side

flight stewardess
, she said
her credentials
she offered me

: the airports she’s been
the airports she’s fenced in
the nearby city lights
they never failed to leave her
to wonder what faraway
secret wonders
they could’ve shown her

she looked
, in her sadness
, as genuine as a pearl still nested
with its mother
, so

dragon
, i said

and she smiled and she declined
to believe me
still she elected
to linger
, to solve me?

the treasures you hoard?
, she asked
safe in Swiss banks
, i said
for it is how you do it these days

the knights hounding you?
, she asked
each one domesticated by now
, i said
, i guessed

and the things left to burn these days?
, she asked
, and

bridges
, i said




2016.may.13

your kingdom gone

if you were half as decent
as you dictate for me to be,
would you take time to step
outside your kingdom in your clouds?

would you measure jars of honey
that overflow from your mouth today,
against an ancient tragic joke
that slipped from the mouth of a man,
never mind the two decades and excess,
of hard work a man has put together?

never mind that honey from your mouth
has gone stale, ancient in its own way.

would you listen?
to the little stories, to the little events,
even if they come from who you might deem
as little people, insignificant, indecent,
from your kingdom in your clouds?

i know you know how their words fall together
like puzzle pieces across the land,
upholding a legend you are bent to smear,
blanketing parks like Luneta in red and blue,
but i doubt if you know why.
still, you could ask: Father, Mother,
is this how it was like,
to have the little people carry you?

listen to the trickle of blood, sweat, tears,
the very drops of ink we use to paint our hopes
on self-made placards, and would you tell us,
how much further have we to bleed, labor, and weep,
to be worthy of your definition of decency.


2016.may.08