Sinewed by the the ancient art
of tai chi, he forged the forces of the universe
to lure a dreamer into his lair. He stayed

silent as a spider; and with seamless
gliding of limbs and fingers,
he entrapped his prey like a moth

entangled in a cobweb. The sky
was bleeding then when she asked: “How
can I walk through the dusk?” “Just

follow me, I’m a pathfinder,” said
he. He whispered to her ear: “Close
your eyes my child and trust your heart.”

And to the tremor of his voice he danced
her, deeper and deeper into
the night. Soon his lips dripped with her

muffled sobs, the stench of his slobber
drifted into her pristine dream; and he
confessed: “She came to me; I’m innocent.”



a village named dream

there is a village 
in the philippines
named Dream: 	   

a home where 
wild lilies bloom 

 where 	no bullets
	dare defile the spider’s  
	and communion 
    with the grass

where girls can swim 
in the river     pick up snails
and come  back home
      unafraid        unscathed

come with me
let us go 
to Dream.

i long for a dream

I’m in the middle of the road,
hundreds of cars buses trucks bicycles pass through me.
Thousands of people pass through me,
then I hear thunders from afar,
from Mindanao
and I see blood ,
I see eyes wide open dead.
I smell hatred, I smell bigotry, I feel the trees falling down,
I taste poison in the river once pristine,
once mother to us all, I hear volleys of gunfire,
in their voices I see doves falling, falling, their wings unspread.
I feel the bronze and the nickel bullets piercing through my heart,
I long for a flower that sway at the slightest whistle of wind,
I long for a dream, for a lucid dream in a moonlit night.