THREE POEMS IN RESPONSE TO EACH QUESTION IS ALWAYS THE SAME QUESTION

A MIRAGE

Tell me the lie again/about how good it is to live/only for others?---From “Each Question is Always the Same Question” by Luisa A. Igloria, Via Negativa, 08-11-11

 

Is it the new place? Is that where we could find food?

I am tired now. Could we stop and drink water

from that pool out there? I see it. I see it. Let us hurry

before it is gone. Clouds are dancing around the sun.

Are we there yet, Mother? Is it the new place,  Father? 

Soon, child, soon. There will be wells. There will be corn.

Here, sip on this rug, it still has some water left. Wipe

the sweat off your face, give the cloth to your son. Soon.

Suck on it. Hurry, and give it to your sister after. Soon.

There is no pool of water there. Just the sun and sand. 

BBC News: “Somalians are moving out to Kenya to escape

the widespread famine. Orphans now outnumber parents

who have perished along the way. Border guards are now

dumping bodies in mass graves to forestall the outbreak

of typhoid and cholera. No body count has yet been made”

---Albert B. Casuga

08-11-11

 

HIS PROMISE 

…If I disappeared into one of the ruby-red rooms/of the pomegranate, would you stain/your fingers to search for me?---From “Each Question is Always the Same Question” by Luisa A. Igloria, Via Negativa, 08-11-11 

 

You could not hide from me if you tried,

no ruby-red chambers have room enough

to shield you from my dowse, my heart’s

divining rod, I will find you.  I must. 

Would stains stop me? Neither will filth.

Each question you ask will be the same

question I will always seek to answer

if this search shall take me from here 

to the last seed that would have sprouted

from dry clay hiding your eyes, your limbs,

your mouth in each branch or leaf, or twig.

I shall kiss them all, and I will find you.

---Albert B. Casuga

08-11-11 

 

HER DREAD

You are the kiss walking away/without so much as another glance.---From “Assassin’s Wake” by LuisaA.  Igloria, Via Negativa, 08-10-11 

 

When you find me, and I know you will,

but I would have withered in the search,

like these brittle leaves and broken twigs,

how would I hold you to your promise? 

Like those hungry ghosts in Yunnan,*

would you haunt these forests for a touch

of where my heart pounds, my breasts,

and growl your hunger away, satiated? 

You promised you would kiss each leaf,

each fallen twig, each broken branch

to find me. But what if you were the kiss

walking away and would not even glance?

---Albert B. Casuga

08-11-11

*The Chinese have entered the seventh month of the Lunar calendar, known as the Hungry Ghost month, which began July 31.This period is considered unlucky for many Chinese as they believe that the ghosts are allowed to return to the human realm as the Hell Gate opens throughout the month. While the Buddhists and Taoists prepare offerings for the homeless ghosts, a minority tribe in China has its own interesting celebration. The Yi people in Ejia town of Yunnan province, who are still single, will head to the streets for the Breast-Touching Festival (Monai Jie) on the 14th, 15th and 16th day of the month. On these days, the men are welcome to touch the women's breasts.

Legend has it that the festival began around the Sui Dynasty (AD 581 – 619) when most of the teenagers of the Yi tribe were forced into the army and died in war. The people then carried out prayers to commemorate the dead, and it happened that the ceremony was held in the seventh month. According to the wizards, the dead were in a state of unrest because they had not touched a woman before.

And so, they wanted 10 "pure and untouched" ladies to accompany them in the afterworld.---Jim Paredes, OurSocialBlogs, 08-08-11