gian can’t dance,

Typhoons In Albay

In my father’s home my sister and I
would celebrate the arrival of a typhoon.
We would stand in front of our door,
the smallest in the entire village, and see
who would be blown farther by the wind.

We decided to discontinue our games
when Sisang blew away my sister’s hat.
She had tried to chase it
but I held her back, against the storm,
and told her not to leave. I told her
father would return soon. Her eyes looked
lost and unconvinced.

We were brought up by the difficult
years that followed, by the calluses
on my hands and the empty chairs
in our dining table. I stayed and
continued my peddling while
my sister made frequent trips to Manila,
coming back with food, money and
more trips to Manila.

After some time, I would see my
sister only in the canned goods
in the kitchen, only in envelopes
that I would pick up in Legazpi, only
in visions of her face in traveling
strangers in the station.

Last week, father had to knock on
the door of his own home,
and I opened. After our exchange
of hugs, he apologized for the past
seven years. He was not forgiven,
but he was welcome.

In my father’s travel album he shows
a picture– “Venice, without the sun”:
The rain poured into the lagoon as
gondoliers hurried passengers
to their destinations — buildings
worn out by their friendship with
the water. Faraway, there was a
woman chasing a hat blown away by
the wind.

I was busy, overwhelmed by father’s
travels when he asked:

“Where is your sister? I’ve bought her another hat!”

Among the flowers in the night-time;
alone, companion
of the lonely moon.
He empties his wine jug
and transcends himself. He walks
to a river, scoops the moon
into his jug and shares:
“My friend, this world
is hollow, and we
are its empty spaces.”

The moon turns away
as if shaking her head. Li Po knows
tomorrow, they are both renewed.

After 月下獨酌 (Drinking Alone by Moonlight)

When I crashed into the Jeepney,
I mangled its thin, aluminum

side. Manong Ed, the Jeepney driver,
got down, wiped his eyes

of Sweat,  and spoke
to me as if he was mourning

my lack of care. He collected
the insurance details and threw them

haphazardly into the passenger
seat. I backed my car out and saw

a little girl, nose and mouth dented
beyond recognition, as the Jeepney
drove away. Thank God
no one was hurt.

On the grass, a starry night
discovered by hands sliding
across the surface and
eyes that look —
1.
Up: there are stars
shining against the cityscape.
I look at my palm, fondle
the Little Dipper and think –
Years ago, hundreds, thousands –
these balls of fire made men feel like Kings.
But in time we discovered:
that those dwarves across the galaxies
only see darkness where we see light.
So like stars, we reflect: We are small
in the universe, and this feeling –
beautiful.
2.
Beside: your smiling face
small, tender — breasts
resentful of the intimidating
vastness of the sky and
the universe. i realize –
in these sweaty palms,
what i can hold — this
finite, human form
we call fragile, petite
and most of all,
beautiful
too.

By midnight, the train stations are empty, as is the rest of the city. The lights, however, remain — some glowing, some flickering — there is a dim lamp post, and underneath it an old man. He is whistling. Nobody listens – after a while, it is no longer the old man, it is the city: a car speeds past, a bulb on a street sign dies, cats screech, rats nibble on the garbage freshly thrown out by the man from the restaurant, convenience store doors slide open and there is a chime – an old man whistles. The stoplight (there is a stoplight) under the bridge turns red, but the wind continues.

Funneling wildly
across empty streets, a flute –
of lonely Tokyo

Message Board Log: Iran

“Welcome webjourn_steve!
Your last visit was:
1 week(s) ago.”

Day 1:
In Iran there is turmoil. (g_beck
writes “LOL,” he is banned);
I hear the explosions
clearly — from the other side of the world
on Youtube.
The board laughs at the Persians
and their fondness for violence.
I am typing – expressing
my disappointment when
a bottle of beer
explodes in my fridge.

Day 2:

Thousands of celebrity tweets;
Sad, concerned, badly-spelled
tweets; and television programs (It is okay
to “LOL” at these) – I laugh
guiltily, and forget about Iran until
smoke floats in
from the kitchen.
A burnt dinner.

Day 5:

Amidst a busy week
a new topic about Iran. (Someone
responds with a picture
of a funny-looking cat.
He is banned.) I step out
for a cigarette and let out
puffs of disappointment.
I set a mousetrap in my kitchen.
Seven rioters died.

Day 7:

Someone uploads a video –
An imprisoned Iranian journalist getting
raped.
I feel a bulge in my pants
and realize just
who I really am.

Introduction: So recently I’ve been doing articles for Search Engine Optimization. It’s a pretty fun job actually since it involves writing, but I usually get home very late and that’s how articles like the following happen. My editor sent it back to me to rewrite it, and rightfully so! Basahin niyo at matawa kayo, hahaha!

“Hi Gian,

Can you look over the last section. What you wrote does not make sense.
Thanks:

Please rewrite it:”

Betting

One of the main reasons horse racing is popular at all is because of the betting. However, before one starts betting on horse racing, there are a few things to consider. First of all, one must look at the riders and the horses neutrally. It is not just speculation and guessing that allows a bettor to win a lot of money, it is skill and quick calculations. Bettors are encouraged to listen in on team meetings if he can so that he can make a quick decision as well, not in romance, but in work.. There are many different types of bets, but as this is mainly introductory, one must be familiar with a straight bet. The bettor basically picks a horse to win, and if that horse does not win, he loses money, but if it does win and the odds are against it, it would be a jackpot for the offended party. Therefore, a straight bet is the way to go for beginners because it is hard to analyze an entire racetrack, a plethora of horses as well as utility people when making one’s bet. One can also take a safer bet and bet that a horse will win either first or second place. Either way, betting is one of the things that keep horse racing alive. Most of the people who watch horse racing also bet in one way or another.

1.

If there exists a tadpole, swimming
slowly across a viscous swamp,
(It morphs in the dark
into a toad — secretes poison
into human skin. We swell.)

Then Y: For the sake of
Science and ours, bring out
the forceps; the scalpels
that will quell the infection.

2. (But—)

If tonight: windows are to be kept
open by Questions
(or laments; reverberating
from across the lagoon)

Then Y: For the love of
God and ourselves: “Why?”

In Ghost Colours

There is a light
that ties our bodies
to this city and its
noble gases
that erupt violently into the sky.

It steals from us the majesty
of moonlight; from
the stars that hide
beneath the neon smog.

But we are all mirrors –
faces that glow like
seven moons; and hearts
that echo hatred
for the lights that keep
this city dim.

Whilst all around us are
bodies – with desires;
that give in to the
glowing signs that
peddle warmth.