I. Gongs
Ceremony
Gods will be angry
If gongs have no harmony.
Strike it properly.
Betrothal
Gongs made of copper.
But it’s a sincere offer.
Marry my daughter.
Omen
The gong’s an heirloom.
Perfect present from the groom.
No love, meet your doom.
Every December, my uncle pops rice paper candies in my palm.
They barely survive the voyage to mouth. I can’t explain
how the heat from my supplicate hands boil its sugary coat.
When it gets to my mouth,
lingers like an island, saliva aquamarine,
pacific ocean tongue. Sucks out the gummy bits.
They cross miles and miles for me to digest, take the plastic out
of the ground and crumple, sounds like a song.
This is why I wear charms and keep a birthright in black hair,
be the flour in the pandesal, the sweet ensaymada,
fathers kimchi, I take it upon myself.
This candy sends me to sugary tombstone where I indulge
for a second, imagine this is what
their dirt taste like and how
could America taste better than this?
Maya’t maya ang pagdaan mo sa aking mga baytang,
Tila isang dambuhalang dumadagan sa katawan.
Malimit pang magmadali ang hakbang mong may pagyanig,
Na para bang isang lindol at ikaw lang itong manhid.
Kadalasan ay ako rin ang ‘yong tagpuang-pag-ibig,
O di kaya ay upuan o patungan ng iyong gamit.
Sa akin mo rin iniiwan ang basurang ikinalat,
At ang dura mong animo’y luha niyong mga ulap.
At sa hula ay muli kang nanlalata sa pagdating,
Mabibigat ang iyong hakbang at mayroon kang hinaing.
Sinabi mo’y pagod ka na sa pagbaba at pagpanhik,
Tugon sana’y pagod na rin ako sa iyong pagbabalik.
Aklat Antolohiya ng LIRA Fellows 2018, Great Concept Printing Co., November 2018
Liwayway Magazine, Manila Bulletin, Marso 2019
Christine Marie Magpile 
Breia Gore 
John Christopher Lubag