Whistling for Moonbeams

by Mookie Katigbak-Lacuesta Speed of neither wind nor ripple, neither hawk nor dove; she darted quick across the woods through blister’s ...

There are people whose frames seem to droop, however which way they shift, and carry, their weight. It's as if the eyes are perennially ...

I miss home. Where the old woman comes to chase me away from the sea to tell me it's time for lunch. Where playing tag with monstrous wa...

"He knew her, he believed. He would teach her that she was not his possession, he would show her she was free, he would see her flash h...

To what distance and by what path -" Silence Wager Stories" Susan Howe These sudden, stalling, momentary standstills make me w...

and she pauses, five breaths long, but soon the clouds draw over the now vanishing glow, and she turns to resume her flight.

That dragonfly should've been a butterfly. LOL

"Back then, it was on you to tell the authorities what you looked like. How a person could self-diagnose “Forehead: medium” or “Face...

Weather forecast for tonight:  dark .    - George Carlin Losses, irreversible. Echoed by this wind, magnified by those clouds, brought to...

All this angry lashing by the rain, all this careless whipping by the wind -- I'm suddenly afflicted with the blues. =( How was your ...

A whiff of the air as I stepped outside told me I should look up, which I would have done even without the scent of grey clouds, anyway, bec...

"What you risk reveals what you value."   (Written on the Body) ‎"You never give away your heart; you lend it from time t...

My daughter's been complaining of "writer's block" for weeks now. I just realized: we are on the same page. Paging my m...

And where begins the night? -Rilke, "Girl in Love" the awakening of dormant stones, depths that would reveal you to yourself....

Gray skies, a cafe, the smell of warm bread and steaming coffee, and I, bundled in a purple, knit sweater, my nose against the glass window,...

Breakfast at Mickey's, make-up still on   Elbows on the greasy table cloth   One more coffee and one last cigarette   Smiling at th...

On my FB wall: These past weeks have made me realize that not all minds are broad enough to house the lengths and widths and chasms and heig...

There is always something to be made of pain. -Louise Gluck, "Love Poem" Dusk found me getting a pedicure at a nail salon. The gl...

Yes, the allergies seem duller, but so do my thoughts. Is it "are" or "do"? It's a bit hazy, too, like, where have t...

You have very low self-esteem, Alice said. Everyone here thinks the world of you; you are always mentioned in poems and songs. I know. It ...

We are parallel lines, an exponential bloom where Zeno predicted your retreat; and where I come through a, you come through b —the two ...

Wishful thinking I might be yours/ And every dream is just a dream after all/ And the night's in a paper cup/ When you want it to last/ ...

this day folded, safe. ‎"It's hard to remember that this day will never come again. That the time is now and the place is here ...

from up there. I feel the ground beneath me shake the littlest bit. Such a chilly, windy night, on the heels of a cold, stormy day. These pa...

Sa hindi inaaasahang Pagtatagpo ng mga mundo May minsan lang na nagdugtong, Damang dama na ang ugong nito. Di pa ba sapat ang sakit at...

Goodness, this heat. These days (and nights), I find myself sorely tempted to forgo my  heels for flip-flops, my turtlenecks for tank tops, ...

"Then the writing became so fluid that I sometimes felt as if I were writing for the sheer pleasure of telling a story, which may be th...

There is this white wall, above which the sky creates itself -- Infinite, green, utterly untouchable. Angels swim in it, and the stars, in ...

The weight of the world is love. Under the burden of solitude, under the burden of dissatisfaction the weight, ...

Daphne, dazzled by a slice of radiance, finds herself turning--

is by admitting or opening away. This is the simplest form of current: Blue moving through blue; blue through purple; the objects of ...

by Ma. Fatima V. Lim Wilson For your own good, do not claim to be a poet. -Advice of a well-meaning friend. How we sing, even as we ar...

Poor Love, you were but Color, Motif, Mood -- Need of my poetry, not my womanhood. - from "Love is My Need" (1945), Trinidad T...

The interminable tapeworm of time unreels unwinds and stops dead. -Ophelia Alcantara Dimalanta, "The Time Factor" Where he is,...

Only your real friends will tell you when your face is dirty.   - Sicilian Proverb

"Music, once admitted to the soul, becomes a sort of spirit, and never dies. It wanders perturbedly through the halls and galleries of ...

Paul Thomas Anderson, 1999

"…words have been all my life, all my life--this need is like the Spider's need who carries before her a huge Burden of Silk which ...

I used to tell you my dreams. - Louise Gluck, "Siren" These short, sudden silences, in syncopation with each other, like the mi...

My traipses into Jonathan Carroll's blog almost always yield loots of beautiful snippets. This morning, I found this there and it just ...

A life should leave deep tracks: ruts where she went out and back to get the mail or move the hose around the yard; where she used t...

"...life is made of ever so many partings welded together." 'So,' said Estella, 'I must be taken as I have been made. ...

"I don't want to own anything until I know I've found the place where me and things belong together.  I'm not quite sure w...

"And today is whatever I want it to mean." - Beth Orton, "Central Reservation" If my eyes are to be trusted, I'd...

What are regrets? They're just lessons we haven't learned yet It's like catching snow on your tongue You can't pin th...