Alegria Imperial

Light as magic

The essence of magic is light
says the puppeteer to me as I peer
through his box of a stage
yet but a shell of trash --
limp pieces of strings,
sleeping snakes of light cords,
tubs of light shades, the puppets
mere swaths of rags.
Life moves only where
there is light, he seems to chant,
invoking magic from his words. In the myth
of creation,
God first bid Light with words
and Light burst into rays like wings
or so the puppeteer
imagines.
You can ride on light,
the universe does, speeding
and crashing on taut streams
of translucence. I can transform you
into a nymph under these lights,
the puppeteer turns
to me,
sensing my longing.
Could I grow into wings if
I wish
and vanish in the light? I ask. Or
like my puppets be born and live if only for a fraction
of light, he answers grinning. I hesitate
but then, step in to his box
of a stage. Among scraps of life,
I give in.

Bilingual Haiku
English/Filipino

moths--
our pregnant moons circling
each other

gamugamo…
ang kagampan nating buwan
nag-iikutan

            ❧
fallen words
on my palm the shifting hues
of midnights

agtinnag a sao
iti dakulap ko ti agbaliw-baliw
a sennaag ti tengga’t rabii

Haiku

passing wind
the scent of sky
in drips

❧

sinking in the wind’s vortex eider down

❧

on a quill
night holes connect
the dots

❧

in her grayness a note of vermillion

❧
even light skids
on your hardness
young pond

​❧
window frame--
a gibbous moon sails
on loneliness

Tanka

the scratching
of dead grass on her skin
louder than cries
but muted on pillow clouds
shifting in shapes of mercy

Picture

Alegria Imperial's Profile

Haiku

in gusts
a rumour about the sun
not rising

                ❧

bird fingers punching the wrong keys f sharp in E major

                ❧

into a drum silence drops

Blossoms of Transformation
A Tanka-Haiku Symbiotic Poem

has anyone wakened to stones flower at dawn?

those fragile blue drops
as if remains of singed wings
plunging touch-less
into empty spaces
among stones

scent of ashes blossoms of transformation

Gold Nuggets in His Shoes
A Surreal Haibun

the backpacker’s
tentacles in chartreuse…
fall event

Convinced about the truth about her husband’s kidnapping, she takes his last pair of shoes to the pawnshop, claiming gold nuggets line the soles. The shop owner suffering, but not admitting, from dementia looks at her with longing—her voice sounds like his first love. He takes the pair of shoes and offers his hand to dance, her first in a million years of watching on a pink bathrobe the dance of starlings. Do I think life spins to change on a dance? The music stops. She swoons on echoes of passion notes. The pawnshop owner asks, “Are you trying to steal my guitar?”

bites of tartness
lodge in her voice box--
sense spectrum



English and Bilingual Haiku...

what is a flower?
a vendor covers with moonlight
the artichoke hearts

divorce
the judge’s decision clips
dead blossoms

gash in the  moon
a drip from orange
eye lids

❧
nepnep…
agkaradapen dagiti buridek
a bulan

long rains…
just beginning to crawl
young moons


panagpegges ti karayan
kas naiyuper a kur-kuribot  malsok
metten ti dakulap ti  langit

raging river--
as in soaked baskets the sky’s
hands give way
​

Comments?

***