May iniisip ka?
Oo.
Ano?
Ayaw kong sabihin. Baka magkatotoo.
Dahil makulit ka
Kilala kita. Oo, ikaw 'yun: Nagkasalubong na tayo minsan, sa LRT, sa Gotohan, sa kanto ng Aurora at Katipunan. Nagkatinginan tayo. Hindi mo ako kinausap, pero alam ko, nakilala mo rin ako. Kaya ka narito, di ba? Para sabihing, Oo, oo, ikaw nga 'yun. Naaalala kita.
na, mula noong 24 Enero, 2006, ang nakitambay dito
poetrip
Thursday, June 12, 2008
Here's something from our most recent poetry exercise where someone gets a first line he'd rather use for himself, and passes it to the guy to his left. Joel reading his latest poem, first line c/o me.
Texture Joel M. Toledo
A voice emerges from a well Teeming with swords: this is a riddle, The same way moss is a riddle, Coating the walls as if visits are often, As if overnight the blackness moves Into morning green. So that I hear Someone speaking of water, describing it Like it is colorless and too far away. Passing by, the blind man, wincing, Tells me pointedly how thirsty he is. I lead his hands to feel the moss. He runs his fingers through it And trains his eyes on me, saying, Focusedly, I have grown tired Of green. So I did what I had to – I gave him water. He went his way. And I grabbed the rope and pulled And pulled until the heavy, brilliant thing Came into view. I do not remember What it was: stone, shard, some sharp Something. And someone is speaking, Round-mouthedly, as an echo, Home, home, home.
