A poem by Axel Pinpin

Rendezvous

                                         for Mrs. Editha Burgos


The place you promised was a confused direction
and a warm occasion. Sometimes a downpour
and more often an artificial cannon-rain
that you never wished for or asked for.

To walk around was punishment, to search in a thousand
pairs of feet that all looked the same and familiar with
the places you came from and went home to: slums,
factories, picket lines, schools, and farmlands.

Often my gaze transcended, pierced the
red cloths and nibs of exclamation points.
You might be among them, one of those who bottled up
their anguish in closed fists pointed at the barricades.

My feet had grown calloused; as did my throat from shouting,
greeting. My hair stood on end
from terror, each time the echoing beats of
flags and fists advanced, advocated.

It seemed you were begrudged from my embraces
or even from the certainty that you're alive.
This might be the final destination of my search
after stations, camps, morgues, and graves.

Though I failed and got lost in searching for the place you promised,
I arrived at the stronghold at the head of your march.
At long last! I glimpsed the towering cry of Freedom! --
In the red cloths harboring your missing face.

July 25, 2007


--

"Tagpuan", from Tugmaang Matatabil, translated from Filipino.

Axel Pinpin, a former political prisoner, is the author of three poetry collections. His latest is Lover's Lane from BlackPen Publishing.