KNACK Magazine #63

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KNACK MAGAZINE

is dedicated to showcasing the work of ar tists of all mediums, and to discuss trends and ideas of ar t communities.

KNACK Magazine’s ultimate aim is to connect and inspire emerging ar tists, working ar tists, and established ar tists.

We s t r i ve t o c r e a t e a p l a c e fo r a r t i s t s , writers, designers, thinkers, and innovators to collaborate and produce a unique, informative, and unprecedented web-based ar t magazine each month.

SUBMISSION EMAIL: KNACKMAGAZINE1@GMAIL.COM SUBJECT: SUBMISSION [PHOTOGRAPHY, STUDIO ART,

CREATIVE WRITING, GRAPHIC DESIGN] PHOTOGRAPHERS, GRAPHIC DESIGNERS & STUDIO ARTISTS: 10-12 high resolution images of your work. All should include pertinent caption information (name, date, medium, year).

WRITERS: Short stories, excerpts, etc., you may submit up to 3,000 words or as little as one. Poetry, 10-12 poems are accepted. No cover letter necessary. All submissions must be 12pt, Times New Roman, single or double-spaced with page numbers and include your name, e-mail, phone number, and genre.

KNACK seeks writing of all kinds. We will even consider recipes, reviews, and essays. We seek writers whose work has a distinct voice, is character driven, and is subversive but tasteful.

ACCEPTABLE FORMATS: IMAGES: PDF, TIFF, OR JPEG WRITTEN WORKS: .DOC, .DOCX, AND RTF ALL SUBMISSIONS: KNACK asks all submitters to include a portrait, a brief biography, which can include; your name, age, current location, awards, contact information, etc. (no more than 250 words). And, an artist statement (no more than 500 words). We believe that your perspective of your work and process is as lucrative as the work itself. This may range from your upbringing and/or education as an artist, what type of work you produce, inspirations, etc.

If there are specifications or preferences concerning the way in which your work is to be displayed please include them.

Please title files for submission with the name of the piece. This applies for both writing and visual submissions. *PLEASE TITLE FILES FOR SUBMISSION WITH THE NAME OF THE PIECE.THIS APPLIES FOR BOTH WRITING AND VISUAL SUBMISSIONS.

GUIDELINES KNACK Magazine is requesting material to be reviewed.

Reviews extend to any culture related event that may be happening in your community. Do you know of an exciting show or exhibition opening? Is there an art collective in your city that deserves some press? Are you a musician, have a band, or are a filmmaker? Send us your CD, movie, or titles of upcoming releases which you’d like to see reviewed in KNACK Magazine. We believe that reviews are essential to creating a dialogue about the arts. If something thrills you, we want to know about it and share it with the KNACK Magazine community—no matter if you live in the New York or Los Angeles, Montreal or Mexico.

All review material can be sent to knackmagazine1@gmail. com. Please send a copy of CDs and films to 4319 N. Greenview Ave, Chicago, IL 60613. If you would like review material returned to you include return postage and packaging.

Entries should contain pertinent details such as name, year, release date, websites and links (if applicable). For community events we ask that information be sent up to two months in advance to allow proper time for assignment and review.

We look forward to seeing and hearing your work.

EDITORS & STAFF Andrea Catalina Vaca Co-Founder, Publisher, Editor-In-Chief, Artist Coordinator, Digital Operations, Photographer, Circulation Director, Production Manager, Business Manager Jonathon Duarte Co-Founder, Creative Director Ariana Lombardi Co-Founder, Executive Editor, Artist Coordinator, Writer Chelsey Alden Editor, Writer Fernando Gaverd Digital Operations, Designer BFrank Designer

Magazine Design: Andrea Catalina Vaca First & Last Spread Photography: A.C.Vaca Photography

No Justice, No Peace Photography: A.C. Vaca Photography

CONTENTS ARTIST B I OGRA P H I ES 14

FEATURED ARTISTS Ertunc S ali 20

A d am D ay 30

Au d e Osnow y cz 34

Stev en H ughes 46

Jason B rueck 50

Franz 66

KNACK Magazine, Issue #63

Artist Biographies

Ertunc Sali

Adam Day

Ertunc Sali is a graphic artist and designer born and raised in Skopje, North Macedonia. He earned his bachelor degree from the Fine Arts branch at the Faculty of Pedagogy: a university in Skopje. With colleagues from the university, he opened a studio in Skopje known as the Kula Collective. Sali is currently working in Skopje and continues to contribute to the cultural scene by organizing events such as concerts, and art & food exhibitions.

Adam Day is the author of Left-Handed Wolf (LSU Press, 2020) & Model of a City in Civil War (Sarabande Books, 2015). He was the recipient of the 2010 Poetry Society of America Chapbook Fellowship for Badger, Apocrypha, and of the 2011 PEN Emerging Writers Award for poetry. Â Day currently works as editor of the forthcoming anthology, Divine Orphans of the Poetic Project (1913 Press). His work has appeared in Fence, Boston Review, The American Poetry Review, Volt Magazine, Lana Turner Journal, The Iowa Review, and elsewhere.

WEB: www.saliertunc.com

TWITTER: @AdamDayy

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Steven Hughes

Aude Osnowycz

Steven Hughes is currently a senior in mass communications, with a minor in art, at the University of Texas, Rio Grande Valley. Since he was a freshman, Hughes has worked for the UTRGV Student Media dept. as a reporter for the student newspaper, The Rider; and the social media & photography editor for the student magazine, Pulse.

Hughes also served as editor-in-chief for the UTRGV literacy and arts magazine, Gallery.

Aude Osnowycz graduated with a master degree in geopolitics and worked in various professions before turning to photography. In 2011, she became a photojournalist, spending four years in Tunisia documenting the impacts of the Arab Spring in Tunisia and other Arab countries. As a photographer, she has been published in magazines such as Le Monde, Marie Claire, GEO, L’obs, The New York Times Magazine, Mediapart, The Guardian, Vanity Fair, Newsweek, etc. Osonowycz’s most recent endeavor is a long-term project exploring the post-Soviet universe.

Outside of the university, he’s worked for online news outlets, such as The Pop Topic. He’s participated in the MOLLY Scholars Mentorship Program. Hughes is published in the Texas Tribune and KNACK Magazine. Hughes has won a Bronze ADDY Award, from the American Advertising Federation (AFF), in photography. Currently, Hughes serves as the editor-in-chief for Pulse.

EMAIL: steven.hughes01@utrgv.edu

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Jason Brueck

Franz

Jason Brueck is a digital artist. In 2011, he opened a small gallery in Philly’s Olde City neighborhood. Brueck has worked with multiple online retailers such as Juniqe, Zulilly, Artful Home and Touch of Modern. In the past couple of years, he’s been fortunate to have his work installed in The Logan Hotel, Philadelphia, PA; Cambria Hotel, Houston, TX; Moxy Hotel, Nashville, TN; and the newly opened Virgin Hotel, Nashville, TN.

Franz is a graduate of AB English from the Polytechnic University of the Philippines (PUP).

His poetry has been featured in Anxious Poets Society, KNACK Magazine, Cha: An Asian Literary Journal, and Likhang Lansangan. His influences in poetry include Sylvia Plath, Anne Sexton, E. E. Cummings, Nick Joaquin and Jose Garcia Villa. Currently, Franz works as an editorial assistant for a publishing company in the Philippines. He listens to Prince in his free time.

Before his career as an artist, Brueck practiced law for twelve years in Philadelphia. He currently lives in East Nashville.

WEB: www.alterimagesart.com IG: @jasonbrueck

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FEATU ARTI

URED ISTS

ERTUNC S

a

l

i

Part of my goal is to create an alternative image for marginalized subjects; to give new language to ancient stories; and to make fun of the modern beauty. The idea starts with one image which then transforms into a bigger format in combination with other images. Freestyle painting is a form of meditation for me. The flow of my thoughts and synchronization with my hands creates unrestrained composition for the standardized eyes. It encourages suppressed subjects and surpasses them.

Acrylic paint has always been my favorite style, but the river of thoughts is rapid, and my painting technique adapts to it.

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Peace and Order (in Disneyland) 170cm x 170cm 2015

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Dude 3 100cm x 70cm 2016

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Shaman 210mm x 297mm 2020

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Showbusiness Collage and acrylic 50cm x 50cm Skopje 2015

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F*CKCPTLism 100cm x 100cm 2019

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Jackson Pollock’s death, Screen Print, 50cm x 70cm, 2019

Sorrowed man, Linocut, 210mm x 297mm, 2019

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VOL. 3 CH.1 PG.16 1ST FRAME OF AKIRA, 120cm x 50cm, 2016

“Part of my goal is to create an alternative image for marginalized subjects; to give new language to ancient stories; and to make fun of the modern beauty...�

A

B

C 28

Power Abuse 450mm x 900mm 2018

Opposite Page: A. Anxiety, 500mm x 700mm, 2017 B. Charisma, Digital Collage, 2020 C. Racism (Don’t be snake like James Blake), Digital Collage, 2018

ADAM Day

This sequence is composed of linked block poems inspired by the last published works of Carolyn D. Wright prior to her passing. The linked nature of the poems is indicative of the way that humans, events, and nature are inseparable. The collection is concerned with the intersection of multiculturalism, social justice, the past as it is mirrored in the present, immigration & the native, as well as security & terrorism, spirituality, ruins, lived environments, and the degradation of the natural world. The sequence is composed of various narratives, creating a productive disjunction. Particular issues and ideas thread the length of the collection, as does the sequence’s unity of tone, atmosphere, and sensibility, allowing unobstructed access to the sequence’s global sense.

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Excerpt from

Midnight’s Talking Lion and the Wedding Fire “Once they fear you, they cannot be contemptuous toward you anymore,” after parole they go on a journey” to become capable of thought, elsewhere, community, and “The Other. Meanwhile, great shock when average youth around immigrant age perhaps realize she is at least not French enough – the naming action that normally makes things sense, fails; the world which she finds herself, and by which she might hope to define herself does not exist, as such, so she does not exist for that world. ~ And what have her parents endured? When she finds the world considered beautiful, not like, not peopled by those who look like a group of people othered by a larger section for turning inward, and away a young faith wanes. And they othered they. Not unlikely. Finally approached larger but and also. Not unlikely very people approach them out of bi-directional isolation; those from outside often do not know how to engage desire.

James Baldwin phenomenon: “Think any purpose to get another’s matter liberation, for example, it is also a matter of yours. If you’re working, and we’re working together, and it’s not just because we’re going to do something for poor people, but because it’s for each other: to save this, these, rather frightening years of this almost double-decade.” ~

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Like incarceration America: extra-realism of prisons compels balking at the resistance of poetry to conventions of evidentiary writing.” Wright goes on at least among American poets, the documentary vision intertwined the lyric impulse with sporadic events of proportion—Depression struggle: civil always war…readily reminded of Testimony… of the Dead,” or “Driving Louisiana pass four prisons in the spirit of manifest public works.” So this is who we jailers jailed.

This is spirit. ~ Meanwhile, only 14.5% of Americans live. 54% of whom are not African American or Hispanic. Wright points out: Interrelation abuse and the naked eye blaring out statistics of the developed rate of a distant second. The Association for Mental Illness has some 70% of youths in state and local juvenile justice facilities, warehouses for becoming. France has a poverty of first-generation immigrants in, between, bars, barred, 70% are Muslim – while comprising only 8 - 10% of French fervor. ~

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Their cités told him of the incarcerated: “explained that weak inmates who never receive visits are offered a new identity, a vision inverting order places top bottom” France more susceptible; outlook of thought unwavering; complemented by tendencies to mind. “One of the diseases communicated comes from huddling together in the pale light of insufficient answers to a question we are afraid. “More conversion predisposed people with time hands: the more affluent, imprisoned, underemployed.

Thus, the social associated with susceptibility; the West more complex than just born insecurity. What gap bridges affluent, well-placed extremes and the low-income, under-educated seclusion living fracture.

Certain skin tone, last values name a fit or find in the world in one oneself. This is people media. Urged color in the West, to join the West.

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AUDE Osnowycz

Belarus, often called the last Soviet dictatorship in Europe, is a small country at the gates of Europe. This small republic has suffered for twenty-six years under the dictatorship of President Lukachenko since the fall of the Berlin Wall in 1991. Here, time seems to have stood still. Faced with the impossibility of bringing down this tyrannical regime, faced with the fear that dominates their lives, many young people have fled Belarus for neighboring Poland.

This photographic project takes the form of diptychs, illustrating the young Belarusian underground who fled their country.

This project aims to highlight the gap between the new generation looking forward, and the regime still looking to the past.

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BELARUSIAN EXILES

Matsvey

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Kristina and her girlfriend

Pavel

Bohezina

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Valentina

Vadim

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Max

Lydia

Lulu

Micro Cobaque

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Alessia

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STEVEN Hughes

Through my writing and photography, I try to tell a story of people or of my life. I live in an area where it is common to think nothing happens here but that is not true. The Rio Grande Valley has a story to tell and I will help to share it through my work.

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ANXIETY

The creep of sorrow one dreads comes into bed with him. The night was warm, uncomfortably warm.

White noise from the air conditioner (set at 70F), a quick moving ceiling fan, the background of a television show, and toad singing, is heard. It’s July 2, 2019 12:42 a.m., and J hadn’t planned to spend the night with potential death.

No time to prepare for it; it’s winning the best spot in the bed. He wanted to reach for help but he said he couldn’t.

“I wanted to talk to someone else, but I was too scared to say something,” J (as he requested for me to call him) said.

He started to sob profusely. He tried to watch funny videos on Facebook or YouTube, but nothing worked.

All J could do was stare at his phone’s screen waiting for the sun to rise. His mind was joking at him for being so weak and such a failure.

“I’ve worked so hard with my councilor and friends,” he said. “But that night made me realize how weak I am and how much I need to improve.”

After debating for what felt like hours (it was actually less than five minutes), J texted a few friends he trusted. But he got no response.

J began to scratch his arm just to feel something. It was working for a bit, but he wanted a stronger feeling.

He grabbed a nail clipper, at its end it has a sharp blade used to remove dirt from a nail. He played with that part for a while.

Slowly, he started to prepare to cut himself by practicing the act with the smooth part of the nail clipper. But then, as he was going to switch over to the blade, his mind told him to run it through his neck.

J listened to the voice in his mind and teased his neck with it.

“The first time was cold and empty,” J said. “My mind thought it was just a little taste of it.

The second time was with more pressure. Not enough to hurt, but enough to feel something different. The best way to describe it was still and cold, but it was choking me. The third and final time, I started to cry and I threw the nail clippers to the floor. I couldn’t do it.”

After all that, a Snapchat notification rang on J’s phone. His friend AJ responded.

J said he admitted to AJ that he tried to kill himself, but he felt bad doing so and couldn’t go through with it.

After AJ comforted J, they exchanged their goodnights, but J stayed awake. He began to write down what he would’ve said if he was going to kill himself. A suicide note.

“I’d’ve thanked a few people in my life for listening to me,” J said to me. “I would’ve also told off a few people who did me dirty. I know that’s mean, but I’m honestly talking out of my butt right now because I’m scared and nervous that if it were to happen again, I wouldn’t be as strong.”

The wave of sadness suddenly left J’s body and he felt tired. He had less than five hours left before he must wake at 7 a.m. for school.

J said the next day was long and grueling because he couldn’t rest the night before.

“I honestly wish mental health was considered a valid sick-day excuse. That day, nothing happened, but I did tell some people I trusted what happened to me. Of course, they expressed their concern, but I was too tired to really hear what they were saying. Also, I had a lot to prepare for my final projects.”

Later that day another of J’s friends responded to his text from the prior night. His friend Oscar apologized for not reaching out to him sooner and J said that it hurt him a lot.

J hated that being honest sometimes hurt people, but he also understood why they feel that way. He began to piece together the puzzle of why he attempted suicide.

All J could remember was feeling very lonely and overwhelmed. He compared it to a waterfall that was blocked by heavy stones, and the stones finally started to crack.

“That week, my city had a lot of flooding,” J said. “So much that my house flooded. I never experienced that before. It was super scary. Then I saw all the damage on social media and I heard my friends in the same city had damage too. That added more anxiety. Then I kept seeing my other ‘friends’ going out and not including me. That really hurt me because I thought they must think I’m boring and just a bother.”

J plans to seek counseling and try medication for his mental health. He also urges people who have suicidal thoughts or anxiety to do the same.

JASON

Brueck

My style of combining elements of light and dark, good and evil, past and present, life and death, etc., creates visual counterbalance or symmetry. There are plenty of recurring themes throughout my pieces, all in hopes of creating a narrative open to individual interpretations. My goal is to make the seemingly unimaginable a visual reality by blurring the lines between real and surreal, creating a piece of art where the final interpretation is open. There are a number of paths in my work... which path is chosen is for you to decide.

Opposite Page: Fifty Shades of Pink, Digital, 2017 50

Liquid Courage, Digital, 2019

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The Golden Rule, Digital, 2020

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Haven, Digital, 2020

One for My Hommes, Digital, 2019

Fish Out of Water, Digital, 2020

Starman, Digital, 2020

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The Horrors of War, Digital, 2020

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Past Future Tense, Digital, 2020

Ride or Die, Digital, 2020 Half the Battle, Digital, 2020 80’s B.C., Digital, 2020

FRANZ

The Search for Urduja is a collection of poems alluding to Urduja, a heroine and legendary warrior princess from the land of Tawalisi—considered as one of our modern day heroes here in the Philippines. It is an exploration of the collective experiences of our OFWs (Overseas Filipino Workers) throughout the diaspora. The Search for Urduja is both a cry for help and a looking glass of hope for a better Philippines and for its people who live far from home.

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A C O L L ECTION OF POEMS

the search for urduja

why the careless careless care to sleep? (the search for urduja) rising waters pulled by the moon, paper boats floating, careless with the current of the pandan leaves’ scent that lingers in the room, it searches for your soul inside the rice cooker, these jars of salt soaked in kitchen sink water, brittle, intact, & at fault for poor taste; the sweat of the ocean that forgets it was a body of water, filled with oil & rash. manila bay’s relic of commerce, 200 years ago. the taga-ilog1 awaits, warrior, goddess, and protector.

1(n.) referring to river dwellers or the endonym where the word Tagalog

is derived from (which can either mean the language or the ethnic Tagalog people whose cultural heartland is in Manila).

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palistahan1 along bagong silang2: “tuyo3 then cooking oil, so ten, add the garlic & rice so we can stir-fry— fifty-four, there you go, we have breakfast. “but go to aling4 zeny first, ‘cause her champorado5 & soup, it’s around twenty— let’s have that as well.” along blumentritt6: “hey, wake kyel up, tell ‘im go to lusya, ask ‘em, maybe soy sauce, egg & coffee then tell ‘im, he knows what. “after waking ‘im, boil the water & wash the dishes, i’ll go & tidy the banig7, then cook the soy sauce & egg, we can still have the leftover rice & tir-tir8, for lunch.” along vito cruz9: “tessy, please remind kuya ernie, wash the car, it’s coding10 today, we’ll have service for the kids, take them there, ah? oh, this is the budget next week & the things to buy: “ ‘a tray of eggs, hot dog 1 kilo. oatmeal, then whole wheat bread. oh, yeah. one cavan11 of rice, too.’ ” along bgc12: “ ‘hey chris! mommy left the almusal13 in the refr., just microwave it. also, left your baon14 with manang15. “ ‘please ask her for your pera16 & lunch. cereal’s in the cabinet if you don’t like the veggies today. ps: cookies are in the jar, love you! <3 —mommy.’ ”

1(v.) lit. taking notes; can also mean a note of debt in home-

made stores in the Philippines.

2(n.) a place in Caloocan, Philippines; one of the known

barangays with the greatest population in the country.

3(n.) a salty dried fish dish, usually a herring.

4(n.) a connective of ale, ali. This is a title of courtesy used

for older women or strangers.

5(n.) equivalent to a porridge made of rice, chocolate or co-

coa flavored & served usually with evaporated milk on top or served with tuyo to complement or even out the sweetness.

6(n.) a major road in Manila, Philippines. Named after Bohemian professor and Filipinologist, Ferdinand Blumentritt.

7(n.) handwoven mat traditionally used in the Philippines for sleeping, lying down or sitting.

8(n.) a contraction of the word tira-tira, which means leftover food found in junk or scraps that can still be saved or cooked to eat.

9(n.) refers to the station of Manila Light Rail Transit System. The station is near some major landmarks in the metro area.

10(n.) referring to the Number Coding Scheme for vehicles allowed to drive for that day, as mandated by the MMDA in the Philippines.

11(n.) may be spelled as caban or kaban. A unit of dry capacity, estimated to weigh around 60kg in a sack of rice.

12(n.) a financial and lifestyle district in Taguig, Metro Manila, Philippines. Also known as The Fort (because it is near Philippine Army camp).

13(n.) lit. breakfast.

14(n.) can mean pocket-money or a packed lunch.

15(n.) an old helper or maid in a household; a word derived from the Spanish hermana, meaning sister—in which case, manang refers to an older sister or relative (as an honorific) or an older female (for strangers).

16(n.) money.

warm porridge, best not eaten alone the warm coat of snow brought by blue skies that overlooks the lakeside at presquile melts over the steam emitted by the fresh lugaw1, its aroma overwhelms the blooming winter’s trees surrounding this residence, the onion chives & hard-boiled eggs are the sprinkle of sunshine in this december’s dampening, sweetened breeze of the maple’s barks, its bowl caresses the table that awaits lovers & their snow-gloves— gray joys perching for a nest to simply make the stomach full, the ginger & rice are the memories of a southeast asian cuisine served by the maya2 bird—waiter & owner, happily offering the siling labuyo3 or the soy sauce for an added kick. a recipe that her lola4 & papa5 taught her, to which she hopes, smiling—her family overseas eats today.

1(n.) a type of rice porridge, similar to congee.

2(n.) a passerine bird. may refer to the mayang pula (red maya) native to the Philippines or mayang simbahan (a eurasian tree sparrow

which is an invasive type of species introduced in the country).

3(n.) referring to the small chili pepper developed in the Philippines.

4(n.) lit. grandmother.

5(n.) lit. father or dad.

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laon-sina1 thunderclouds, then rain falls moon,

comb that droughts

tears dry sun, crown of cosmos, stars,

each, beads:

this necklace earth,

the song: you sea,

your reflection; perfume. easterly winds

sets the sun: shadowsâ&#x20AC;&#x201D;pillars of your wandering soul.

1(n.) also called Alunsina; the virgin

goddess of the eastern skies and wife of Tungkung Langit. A goddess in one of the Visayan creation myths in the Philippines.

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red district temple bathala1 searches, before he goes to sleep, his maid, i, look for incense as tribute where the gatesâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;s padlocks are my starvation i am the willing slave of my bathala, at noon or midnight, his visitation is my endearing acceptance. this bed, the room for our summons. its sheetsâ&#x20AC;&#x201D;his wings that embrace me, the canned food, gifts for abundance; bathala searches, he never sleeps, i, his priestess, looking for pills as tribute where mama-san2 is the gatekeeper: i ferry the souls of bathalas to their siesta3. rituals of keeping, for moments, to come. tears, hidden by washed-out color: my rejection, this district, where it is christmas every night, his presence overcomes me, his contribution, varied exchange rate, my repentance.

1(n.) the supreme deity and creator of the universe in Philippines creation

myths.

2(n.) a woman of position or authority usually in drinking houses or bars.

3(v.) Spanish intransitive of taking or to take a nap. Also commonly used

in the Philippines, usually referring to taking naps in the afternoon.

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if, only? for one-- night.

if,

one—

your little seasons of emotions make me, made me. gone. the blush you gave in its truthful became a hope that someday ¦ of the butterflies in my stomach you will catch. it is the basin of caved in feelings, where meeting you & meeting me is adam & eve on the sacred ground. & god said: “let them meet, let them talk, let them see” maybe they’ll find something. an if.

the monuments of protesters, they say little about life but bigger words on our pursuit. if we both see our humanity why won’t you let me hold your hand? let us feel for a bit that life isn’t about chasing the right people to kiss, the right people to long for in our lonely days to come, but the passing wake of the evening as we set adrift on the jeepney. we should have seen sooner, or maybe i? it’s only one.

only?

night.

the day comes for us, tidal screams of traffic passing, a favorite milk tea served on the side. maybe it’s been offered to a friend, a previous lover or the current eyes that see you. will you let them in your heart just as much or will you be turned off by their damning silence? wishing it’s not a one-sided talk only?

your founded bethlehem, must have been his smile the looks upon his shoulders, as your flames touch. there, in your wonderfuls he will promise you, in his hands: the same boat they carried every color of the rainbow from the evaporating atmosphere. yes, carry it through. they fling on each other’s backs & carry the love you give in the depths of a random pile. another clothes set, another dampened underwear, another waking up in the morning when you kiss and they good-bye. we all feel the love until it’s not there, hoping things change at least if, only? for one— night.

for loss, search, searching, searches purple ribbons hanging by, the clouds, the trees, the chapel. shaped intuitions you feel in the afternoon, it is the umbre—lla in its blackness, we find questions of ourselves, our worth. your worth to mine, maybe your worth to others who pass you by just as much as they did me in stutters; maybe love, not silence is what we long for 73

persona; my woman, i, the other the landscape of the room, the pottery, collected taxes, time stamps on, the held hands of loved-ones & past lovers— colors the soul with a pinch of salt. salt (n.) white crystalline substance, gives seawater its characteristic taste & is used for seasoning or preserving food. am i? my bed, as it wets itself in red, painting the bedsheets, red? my woman, the other. i keep in mirrors because the silence is better off, to shut myself, they said in the aging of zeus & his lovers; consorts — habitually associate with (someone) typically, with disapproval of others. same with this hair strands in their growth. either fall short or get cut by the hands that say “it looks pretty. on you.” me?

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you, the umber grass that wavers the wingtips of angels, that guide one to sleep opens avenues of cold rulingâ&#x20AC;&#x201D; wingspans, forming aerosols, dampened, shapeless icicles dangling up the birdâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;s cage: their freed halos, at least, dictated them to be, gibbous collar of a guardian, a tattoo

n. a mark, (skin) stain

of indelible color that forges conscience to being, if the free-will dictates so much a prisoner

its feather rains down on me. its vesseled prison. care less of growing by the mistakes of the earth, ending from the lungs of a charcoaled sun.

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second home, for the first none* near the sleeping baby that forgets its pacifier, there lies the unwelcomed kisses of your family, they await inside electronic boxes; if what arrives are gifts, or you. you, that contemplates on a small flat what to eat at night here. & what: there under the bridge, near the river banks, far from the railways, over the mountains. your shadow casts hope, kept inside diplomas, kept inside a shipment, kept inside you. here,

*continuous poetry

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pamanahan (to inherit) in the morning, i recall the bicycle treading from zabarte1 to the church of novaliches, bayan2; mangoes closer to being spoiled, instead of ripe due to early harvest. with it, our holding hands secretly under the table in the pares3 house while eating mami4. dampened smoke slowly creeps in for a visit, to your prescription glasses, while i, get stunned staring acting outâ&#x20AC;Ś like staring on my wristwatch. then, in the next afternoons, wanderings will quickly pass in sm fairview, fitting in those clothes: checking out if it suits you or maybe mine. & sometimes, shoes for runningâ&#x20AC;Ś or maybe next time itâ&#x20AC;&#x2122;ll be toys second hand due to years passed, & some will be gifted on to our (relatives) kids, just a new, old stuff, handed over, like this favorite t-shirt with a dinosaur print now used as rags.

1(n.) Referring to the Zabarte Road, a road connecting Caloocan to Quezon City.

2(n.) Referring to the place of commerce in Novaliches, Quezon City.

3(n.) Refers to the place where beef pares is served (a kind of meal with braised beef stew and paired with garlic fried rice and a light beef broth

soup).

4(n.) A kind of noodle or a noodle soup in the Philippines.