With the all the bluster and the clamour from those in power, it might be easy to forget that these ‘men are but mortal and will surely fade as grass’ (from hymn by Johann Georg Albinus). Our mortality is ultimately an epic fact of life; rather than that triggering more frenetic shouting and sabre-rattling, shouldn’t it be inspiring more humility and curiosity?
PUFF
“… dictators die, and the power they took from the people will return to the people.”
– The Great Dictator
acrid breath
of old age
elbows
of schoolboy thuggery
only lines short
lines small circle
of nose
no depth
two dimensional
no-man
one breath
stirs dust
you’re gone
& no
make-believe
imperial gown
will save you
now
From poetry collection ‘Dear Planet’, published by Fidessa Literary, July 2025.
It seems like something appropriate to share on a Good Friday – how hope, light, love and life can spring up from the most unpromising of circumstances.
But this is my lived experience.
And I wouldn’t be surprised if it’s yours too.
Here’s a personal story in the shape of a poem:
MANILA
Wherever you are is called Here,
And you must treat it as a powerful stranger
‘Lost’, David Wagoner
Daybreak dog walking, looking down from the hills
Seen from safe distance, a sight overwhelming
Rising out of the hollows of hell’s grey haze:
A scene from Inception, concertina-like folds.
Would not this Here the bravest heart heave?
Then morning commute, caught in the maze
Of your internal organs, interminable traffic,
Bumper-to-bumper, brain be-numbing.
But worst is the poverty plait through your pavements,
And shrill is the contrast cursing your landscape:
Fortified mansions, megalithic malls
Luxury outnumbered by beggars and shacks.
Stark city apathy searing our souls.
You’ve borne the brunt, colonizers’ brutal obsession
For greed and for glory, for riches ungranted.
Now local officials are your leering oppressors,
They the heirs of corruption kindling chaos and need,
Siphoning government goods for personal gain,
Bribing policemen
For blindness or blood.
Strangely I find my heart hopeful on the homeward commute,
Though the traffic is worse as we wind through your streets.
Recalling their faces, effervescence of beauty,
Of youth unrestrained, uncontaminated, untainted.
Ignited to learn, they dream unalarmed,
Cleaving to schoolbags, defining coolness and courage,
Education’s a treasure, they tell us, together
We’ll fight for a freedom, a future without cycles
Of poverty with parents unempowered and enslaved.
Maynila, you bore from womb’s darkness these brilliant babies.
Do not dare to betray them or take them for granted,
They will be your salvation, my salvation included
Now I know it’s these children, not your jungle of concrete,
They the powerful stranger disguised in school uniforms,
As in Wagoner’s wisdom,
I’m no longer lost in the woods.
From poetry collection ‘Dear Planet’, published by Fidessa Literary, July 2025.
So excited to share that my poetry collection ‘Dear Planet’ has just been printed in the Philippines!!! Will be available through Balangay Books (https://balangaybooks.com). More details to follow VERY soon…
Are you ever startled by beauty, catching sight of something unexpected in nature? It might be the smallest of things (Forget-Me-Nots), or the biggest (this morning’s sunrise), but it can feel like being nudged awake – jolted even – out of the brain benumbing inertia of screen addiction.
A cardinal beetle once did something like that for me, and in thanks, I wrote the following:
ODE TO AN INSECT
such sophistication of red encasing wings of silk symmetry of black antenna curve of antler jet ivory of elk
drinking in the sight of you
full-bodied delicacy tracing your lines
of majesty
love calls to love & echoes through our atoms
From poetry collection ‘Dear Planet’, published by Fidessa Literary, July 2025.
“So deeply admire anyone involved in conflict resolution, especially as I can be hugely conflict avoidant. Poetry has been my compassionate therapist, my Pooh Bear, coaxing me into an understanding of how I got here: why my instincts are to hide at the faintest whiff of conflict. And the truth sets us free. Piglet doesn’t always have to be a coward.”
The above paragraph was my response to a prompt question, “How can you think about conflict in your life through the lens of poetry?”Each Sunday Pádraig Ó Tuama posts a deeply reflective piece on his wonderful Poetry Unbound Substack (poetryunbound.substack.com), always including a thought-provoking question, which is inevitably hard to resist.
Writing the poem below has been part of my process – recognising where certain fears came from (and why standing at the sink, washing the dishes is a favourite place).
Sometimes it’s only once we understand where we actually are, that we can truly start to move on…
AFTER DINNER MINTS
Sky rent in two
falling between
soles finding ground
I take my stand in silence.
She hurt beyond betrayal
he haunted and subdued
chasms ripple them apart
pernicious waves of white noise.
History layering upon
itself, unpeeling one from
another, an After Eights messy matter.
No wonder I seek sanctuary
in soap suds and greasy dishes
while fault lines re-form
I mask my aftershocks
my crumbling.
From poetry collection ‘Dear Planet’, published by Fidessa Literary, July 2025.
Even if it’s for just a moment, have you ever had that sensation that you’re sliding up out of sleep and into awake-ness, like transferring up out one world into another?
WAKING
“Dreams fade with morning light, Never a morn for thee, Dreamer of dreams, goodnight.” – Roberto Bolaño
Breaching
surface
a mermaid reborn
to walk the earth.
Dripping
from scalp
from ocean pressed
ebony tresses–
seawater celestial blues
prismed through trans-
terrestrial matrix
of sentient
light.
Higher
she rises
faster falls
these dream
sapphires
of iridescence
into oblivion
of the
forgotten.
First published in The Amphibian Literary and Art Journal, March 2025; part of debut poetry collection ‘Dear Planet’ to be published by Fidessa Literary later this year.
CrackedCeiling 