Contributor: M. Protacio-De Guzman

- -
When the clear liquid drops
From its obscene bottle
To the glass anticipating
Its rapid flow, I let go
And swim in its wave
Of ice and sparkling soda
Riding the crest like
Some sun-baked surfer
Atop that perfect swell.

Or I become a fish
Splitting the sea with fins
That sparkle under the glow
Of the moon and stars over
The black shimmering face
That echoes the sea in me.

Then I become wind
That blows the tide away
As night birds glide above
Trees, casting shadows
Within shadows on
Every sleeping being.

But no matter what form
What creature I become
Whether I am possessed
By the spirits in the glass
Or not,
I can never come close
To the splendor of
What I can be
With you.

In the end, loneliness
Is more intoxicating
Than any liquor.


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M. Protacio-De Guzman is from Manila, Philippines. His poems have appeared and have been anthologized in local and international publications, most recently in Off the Rocks Anthology Volume 19.

Contributor: M. Protacio-De Guzman

- -
In the standstill I looked for you.

The expressway was a tongue of light
That licked the dripping star-less night.

Your hands were clutching the wheel.

Cars purred and hissed like alley cats
While trucks grumbled in discontent.

My fingers traced circles on your thigh.

Raindrops fell and burst on hoods, roofs,
And human heads, tracing sporadic paths.

We crossed each other’s machineries.

Entangles behind the windshield fogged by
Our very breath, so reckless in this unleashing:

Our passion sliced the sordid night air.

Gasping for air finally, the journey home
Extended a most unwelcome invitation.

Traffic’s gone, traffic’s gone.

Memories of lips and skin flew past me
As the night peeled away layers of doubt--

For I found you in the thick of things.


- - -
M. Protacio-De Guzman is from Manila, Philippines. His poems have appeared and have been anthologized in local and international publications, most recently in Off the Rocks Anthology Volume 19.

Contributor: M. Protacio-De Guzman

- -
October
And light falls
On leaves that revel
In their verdancy.

I like to think
Them brown,
Dry, and brittle,
Spiraling their way
From their perch
To the ground.

The wind blows
On my sweat-soaked
Back, shocked
By its coldness.

I like to feel it
Hinting of snow:
Biting and cold,
Creating shivers
That rise and fall
Within my spine.

But there
Is no autumn
In my country.

There is only
My imagination
Coaxing the senses

Into believing that
There actually is.
Still--

I like
To think
It real.


- - -
M. Protacio-De Guzman is a poet from Manila, Philippines. His poems have appeared and have been anthologized in local and international publications, most recently in the Off the Rocks Anthology Volume 19.