Tale (poetry)


(I’m not a poet. I don’t think that I’m any good at it. Of course, I’m being untruthful about this. My genre kasi, is fiction. Still, Great big giant insect and friends are much better writers. I’d never be able to think of what these bastards came up with. You guys are definitely killing me softly…though…do i need to remind you that you have to do it with a song? Slippers and bangbang and pukpuk and ahem and beep beep and barks and brakes that need brake fluid and busted fan belts,stupid Mang Felix’s voice and stupid Imelda’s voice  (Mang Munding Imelda) and and and… etc… just noise.  Where’s the song? Uh, no. I’m not the song. Could you be less insane? Please stop it. And guys….I don’t have to remind you….Mr. Wayang Kulit never does help me…when he needs to help me. His wrath started because he didn’t want to help me. See that? My life sucked a whole lot already even before you raped my right palm. Go away.)



by Rose Francess Raymundo


It wears rubber slippers.

Rushes above concrete,

front of this house that love built.

Runs over wooden floor panels,

in this house,

the home of all my grandfather’s love.

It is friends with the lizards,

the bats, and the parakeets.

Friends with the birds.

which she hears.

It’s in diapers.

Dirty white.

It laughs with the children.

Shrieks with the brakes of

the passing motor cars.

Laughs when each dog barks.

She’d like to wash it if she could

only catch it.

Soiled with gravel from the avenues,

metals from the warehouses being built, and

wood shavings.


In this house,

swift as the beads fall

inside a rainmaker’s staff,

it darts from room to room.

Small, grotesque and

in its rubber slippers,

it fills her house

with a name.

This name is its name.

It’s called Tale.

Tale looms

every morn before 4.

With a street broom

that brushes past,

days which will

never again,

start to begin,

if Tale can’t be unwritten.


In this home,

where all of my grandfather’s love


threads to unwind Tale

float, not scarcely.

But Tale’s color is unknown.


Where to begin for

days to start without it.







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