Their eyes are the same
but the glint is different.
What if you're the only one
seeing this side of them?
You are. (You aren't.)

Aren't you so special?

They're so charming. Seductively kind. Disarming.

Wake up. The lumberjack is pointing the chainsaw at your neck.

It's time to see the forest for the trees
or feel their roots absorb you for nutrients.
Your choice.
...Well not anymore.

You had your chance.
Now become one with the decaying forest in eternal vows.

I can hear whispers

in the dark: hey there, yes you --


go, get out of here!

As rough and as difficult
life may well be
it's still so deeply beautiful
down in the
philippines

The beauty of the village
might not be apparent
at first glance.
What deters at first
might be the killing
and the nature of a life
dictated by chance.

But once you start accepting,
adapting and reflecting,
you'll notice that it's just
the island way of living.

Nurture nature's native nest,
share what yield the fields have held,
food to feed for feeling folk,
care about your neighbors health.

Live in tune with natures wrath
but don't exceed her measure
stick to filipino paths,
thus warmth and generosity
will provide you with pleasure.

Red Horse Strong for everyone,
Tuba, Tanduay and San Miguel.
Menthols, **** and beetlenut,
you just have to treat us well.

Sabong's not for the soft,
it's difficult to watch.
Roosters duel over
who avoids the cooking ***,
blades fly through the air
and blood adorns
the sand with spots.
The winner stays a champion,
the loser's in a plastic bag, granting us that evenings dinner
and we've just made our money back.

Wet markets aplenty,
with fish you've never seen before.
Smells of seasalt, blood and gore,
mix to form a memory,
akin to sobering melody.

Watch out for the Aswang
and do not break a mirror.
Keep the deadbolt shut at night,
to avoid unpleasant surprises.

The ocean's at your doorstep
and so are the bananas
and the coconuts.

Skinny teens disguised with bandanas,
strapped, riding through the village.
Don't worry they're just cousins,
standing vigil, chasing cops.

Fistfight near the fish ponds,
neither one backs down.
Tilapia watch eagerly
for who'll sink to the ground.

Their brother came by earlier
selling pastries with his friend.
Buy three each for everyone,
your total's fifty cents.

Everywhere there's laughter,
music, sun and food.
Really nothing better
than the filipino mood.

~
The day was orange
The word is yellow
Out like a light switch
Teeth a steady glow

The projectile's
Crisscross trajectory
Is no kindness

In the catacombs of this mine
Watch it leak
Watch it settle

What remains is
Subterranea, urania
Built to last
A moment to inhale
Before fade to black
~

His hands hovering

above me like birds of prey --


Lamps in his glasses.

Danger skitters in, like a ghost—
tap.
tap.
soft soles on hard pavement—
every shadow a question,
every echo a warning.

I walk alone, flanked by fear,
adrenaline roaring,
my heart thundering in my ears.
One hand in my purse,
the other wrapped around cold metal keys,
eyes sweeping,
ears tuned to the night’s breath.

The shadows shift—
predators seeking prey,
hatred and hunger in their eyes,
searching for someone
to unleash it on.

This is survival in staccato steps—
not prey,
a lioness cloaked in silence,
not waiting,
but ready.

A woman.
On the edge.
After dark.

Is the snake rustling

behind me, that lay sleeping --


between the pine cones?

Airing out ***** laundry,
is in turn, walking on a thin line —  

The very line where those garments dangle;
but let a gentle breeze stir up, and suddenly,
That foul scent rushes back to you, and starts
to assault your nose,

Catching you off guard, and before
you know it!