Post by sarahcabrera on Mar 17, 2009 1:13:46 GMT -5
i.
Quite in a flash,
strong & forceful
as if Noah said to God
"I've finished the Ark,
the animals
are inside
resting in twos, side by side."
Two lovers are out
in the street.
His pants are wet,
her sandals
ruined.
One skinny umbrella,
no match to the
anger of the wind
& the vengeance of the water
trying to wash
passion away,
they use it to cover
their faces instead--
to steal one
last kiss.
ii.
She remembers each
last kiss,
each hello
& farewell.
Like when she dialed
him up,
after some banquet,
her smile oozed through
the other line:
"I just called to tell you
what wonderful thing you're missing
today.
Today I feel like
a rain goddess
walking, my feet light
in my rich green sandals,
my body smooth in a halter,
flowing, emerald
cocktail dress;
clutching
a bright, green-mango umbrella.
Walking, careful not to trip
on a stony pathway
going to the Arcade,
by the chapel."
She remembers.
iii.
This is justice
for all in pain,
in silence,
in the dark.
She remembers too
when typhoon Milenyo
came to ravage the metro,
uprooting centuries
old trees,
rocking cars in the highway
stripping billboards
off their smiles.
Her hero,
her friend
her solace & shelter
came,
ready to be carried off
with her
by the rain.
iv.
This is for the love
so deep.
So much lost.
Memories
so bitter,
so sweet.
She remembers sitting
in the Arcade
alone,
the gang has left
her
to listen to the orgies
of toads
croaking in unison,
foaming in passion
in a short distance
in the marsh.
This is to remember
the spell
she wrote:
"Let it rain
like this, all day
& for a hundred days more.
Let it rain today
until all the toads
are washed away,
until all pain is gone."
She remembers.
It did rain
for a hundred days.
The rain dismembers.
Quite in a flash,
strong & forceful
as if Noah said to God
"I've finished the Ark,
the animals
are inside
resting in twos, side by side."
Two lovers are out
in the street.
His pants are wet,
her sandals
ruined.
One skinny umbrella,
no match to the
anger of the wind
& the vengeance of the water
trying to wash
passion away,
they use it to cover
their faces instead--
to steal one
last kiss.
ii.
She remembers each
last kiss,
each hello
& farewell.
Like when she dialed
him up,
after some banquet,
her smile oozed through
the other line:
"I just called to tell you
what wonderful thing you're missing
today.
Today I feel like
a rain goddess
walking, my feet light
in my rich green sandals,
my body smooth in a halter,
flowing, emerald
cocktail dress;
clutching
a bright, green-mango umbrella.
Walking, careful not to trip
on a stony pathway
going to the Arcade,
by the chapel."
She remembers.
iii.
This is justice
for all in pain,
in silence,
in the dark.
She remembers too
when typhoon Milenyo
came to ravage the metro,
uprooting centuries
old trees,
rocking cars in the highway
stripping billboards
off their smiles.
Her hero,
her friend
her solace & shelter
came,
ready to be carried off
with her
by the rain.
iv.
This is for the love
so deep.
So much lost.
Memories
so bitter,
so sweet.
She remembers sitting
in the Arcade
alone,
the gang has left
her
to listen to the orgies
of toads
croaking in unison,
foaming in passion
in a short distance
in the marsh.
This is to remember
the spell
she wrote:
"Let it rain
like this, all day
& for a hundred days more.
Let it rain today
until all the toads
are washed away,
until all pain is gone."
She remembers.
It did rain
for a hundred days.
The rain dismembers.