I haven’t been writing much at all lately. It’s been difficult to put words together. The block has been going on for three months and running. I have, however, been drawing. Continue reading “Bianca draws things.”
is an ordinary night
there is nothing special about it.
it is not as cold as other places i’ve been.
it is not as sweltering, or strange.
the sky is half stars and half haze.
the sidewalk is cracked cement and litter.
there are blank faces, restless fingers.
i have stopped taking note. Continue reading “there is nothing special about tonight.”
i. When you sit really close to the front of the room, you can see people’s hands tremble as they perform. You see the way they steel themselves before they step up to the microphone, hear the subtle dips in faltering voices. You catch these glimpses of actual human beings, mustering up the courage to tell a room what their story is. Continue reading “Poetry Night: Thoughts from Yugto”
Written in three different stages during our time there: the first on a plane from KL to Colombo; the next in the dead of our second night in SL; the third sitting in an airport, waiting for my last flight home to Butuan.