July 30, 2013

Poems (in conversation)


Poems from two poetry collections I read in the last two days: Marginal Annotations and Other Poems (Giraffe Books, 2001) by Edith L. Tiempo and To the Evening Star (University of Santo Tomas Publishing House, 2013) by Simeon Dumdum Jr.


From Spelling It Out
Edith L. Tiempo

How like a spell the dusk falls
On the jaded eyes.
It's not day or dark, in that deviant time
When the ways of rhyme
And the ways of reason
Do not play the sorcerer's part;
Just disarray, the random, distortions,
The turns and twists, surprise, surmise,
When the wavery decibel calls
The world to intimations,
In this twilight of the heart
Where a freakish glimmer reinvents,
And we startle
Into a place of perpetual
Sheer astonishments.


Thank You
Simeon Dumdum Jr.

To think that I owe you my deepest thanks,
And I have done nothing except sit here,
As though expecting someone to appear
Suddenly on the path between the banks
Of flowers, but the glare of noontime blanks
The eyes, and happily the inner ear
Catches your voice ever present and clear,
Calls on the mind and the heart to close ranks,
And begs the mouth to mutter something true,
And hands to reach for the path and to pick
A rose or two before someone arrives,
And then who knows if that someone is you
Because you're in my mind, and I am quick
To celebrate the linkage of our lives.




3 comments:

  1. Liking the Tiempo poem, so tracked down some more to savour & found little out there, except this one
    by her

    Bonsai

    All that I love
    I fold over once
    And once again
    And keep in a box
    Or a slit in a hollow post
    Or in my shoe.

    All that I love?
    Why, yes, but for the moment ---
    And for all time, both.
    Something that folds and keeps easy,
    Son’s note or Dad’s one gaudy tie,
    A roto picture of a young queen,
    A blue Indian shawl, even
    A money bill.

    It’s utter sublimation
    A feat, this heart’s control
    Moment to moment
    To scale all love down
    To a cupped hand’s size,

    Till seashells are broken pieces
    From God’s own bright teeth.
    And life and love are real
    Things you can run and
    Breathless hand over
    To the merest child.

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  2. That's a good one, Gary. She's also an accomplished novelist and critic. Here's another great poem by her - "Lament for the Littlest Fellow".

    http://www.poetryfoundation.org/poetrymagazine/browse/79/5#!/20591698

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  3. P.S. As for Dumdum, some of his poems in the collection can also be read here:

    http://www.palancaawards.com.ph/2011Maguindanao%20-%20Poetry-3rd%20Prize.php

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