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1. Fields of Elisium

the battlefield in my head 
is littered with lovers 
I’ll never bed, let alone wed
see me ride 
the light of love 
to a place 
inside his heart 
falling below 
The Mists’ undertow
singing the Praises 
of an unknown Soldier 
broken apart 
by the promise of release
fight with me, beside me, inside me, 
behind me, rollercoaster ride me 
touch me with your letters 
let's find the Elysian Fields
freed from constraints 
one bet to become unsealed

2. Things That Are Full Of

things that are full of Music 
Cascade like a waterfall 
down the coin slot 
chirping an acceptance 
once, twice, three times 
Luck Be a Lady
they call me 
the one-armed Bandit 
the meadow in the wild west 
words and music under the gun 
oh the Tiger's son
Ballad of Michael Valentine 
could be a country song, but isn't
telling the tale of a wannabe Rockstar
nuns on Fourth and Fremont 
sing topless 
gaffer's tape
covering their nipples 
implications of areolas 
because bare breasts 
are not fully nude 
in America
if they're covered up
I've become a part of this scene 
waving to the preacher, who insists I accept God 
the refrain of his plea 
mixes with the aroma 
of sewer gas 
on the other side of the street
I crumble from the weight
Catholic blues that direct my shoes 
towards the curio shop 
Under The Canopy 
marching in Harmony 
some silly satellite seeds 
through my sonnet

3. Music to My Ears

fruitful and productive 
tired and antisocial 
emotions that divide my life
I have seen wonderful things
celebrate Milestones 
with loved ones 
I am a true gastronome 
yet I feel alone 
in a crowded room 
it is time to stop dwelling
 on the negativity 
and let the sunshine in
it is time to believe 
all the storied words of scribes, 
poets and heroes before me 
I am worthy of love 
I can practice my faith 
despite all obstacles 
I can be anything I want to be 
if only can get my brain 
to catch up to my heart 
it is time to step off that cliff 
into the sea of simulation
 so that the lights can change 
because the game has changed
I know my present State 
is not where I need to be 
I know that this is not my fate 
and that I do not have to play along, 
to stay on the safe side
what good is an unbreakable heart 
if it is not tested in the fires 
if I don't walk that lonely road 
if I drive to nowhere 
with no particular place to go
I have to believe in myself 
before anyone else will

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1. Page 337

Dad served two tours in the war 
a media circus of Ohio hippies 
and escapes from Saigon via helicopter
lit by the fireworks on the Nightly News
gilded the blood of the conscripts 
photographed by Leica
building roads as a Seabee 
cleaning the mud caked on his boots with gasoline 
the kids around the Airfield, they're bringing active landmines 
held tight like teddy bears to their chests
goofy grins on their toothless mouths 
knowing that you guys would give them chocolate
your anxious, wakeful Sky 
sends shivers down my spine 
my foot falls want to echo the shite
tuned to a radio station only we can hear 
Dad’s diabetes 
eats away at his vision 
takes away his license to live 
My Ate said the diabetes 
was aggravated 
by his exposure 
to Agent Orange 
cuz he served under the man 
who first deployed it 
I love the smell of napalm
 in the morning 
A day he will never see 
inside your earthen crater.

2. Distortion

where are you from
a person's often asked 
where, indeed 
I have no answer 
my eyes are slanted, but I'm not Oriental 
I'm not a rug, don't tread on me
my genes are Levi's, but I'm not a stadium
don't play games with me 
my feet are blistered, but I don't wear high heels 
I can walk on broken glass
I'm from California, I say 
naive of the social cues 
no further back, they insist
what do you mean, I reply 
and it hits me
what's a brown girl like you
doing in a desert like this
I lock my jaw, squint my chinky eyes, 
and say
I was born in Oakland, California 
At the Oak Knoll Naval Hospital 
September 18th, 1983 
cut me, I bleed red white and blue
I don't understand how people see me 
and every day is a struggle 
to reconcile the world that I belong, so I don't
their struggle with me, it's not my struggle
I eat rice with my bare hands 
and I shoot guns in the desert 
I like superhero movies and pop music 
how you see me is not my problem 
I am who I am 
and I don't give a damn.

3. When I Was Naïve

the tsinelas on my feet 
do not protect me 
from the grains of sand 
my mother's pale skin 
vision torn for me
to protect my face from the Sun 
so I don't get tan like my ancestors
but the freckles 
sprinkled on my cheeks 
are my tell
I have no Poker Face here 
A Murder of cacti 
and bloopy tumbleweeds 
and Wide, Open Spaces
but that can't be true
my childhood was the green grass that made me itch 
the hand-me-down purple banana seat bike 
and the depths of my imagination
selling candy to go to Great America
 with the school band 
driving to Chinatown in the city 
for siopao in the pink boxes 
pausing briefly at Treasure Island 
pointing out the house 
where Kuya broke his arm 
the house where they used to live 
years before I was born 
but that was never my home, it was theirs
my house was in the South Side, cheap side, wrong side
driving over the Lion Bridge, twice a day 
separating us from them
dreaming of cheesecake 
from the kitchen 
that I love so much 
I cooked rice 
in that house 
I cleaned the toilets 
in that house 
I wept for the shards 
of my broken heart 
in that house
but I am not home.
not Filipino enough for the Filipinos 
not American enough for the Americans 
too Filipino for the Americans
too American for the Filipinos
but I am not American
I am not Filipino 
I belong to both 
I belong to neither
brown skin and big nose 
what is normal anyways 
Crown Princess of Earth

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1. Masque

you buy clothes you never wear 
to impress people who don't care 
you can't speak in front of crowds 
you should get your head checked
you have blisters on your heels 
from shoes that refuse to be broken in
you wear makeup to even out your tan 
certainly not to impress a man
your mirror reflection of self 
doesn't match the one inside
you sing songs of love and heartbreak 
because you cannot handle reality’s handshake 
from the jump you push everyone away 
to protect yourself from the inevitable day 
when they will turn and walk away
because that's what they do 
when they're done with you
you wear so many masks 
you forget which one is 
for him
for her 
for them
shattered self and shadows 
intertwine on your Halo of thorns
be careful not to bleed everywhere 
blood is hard to get out of the carpet

2. A fairy tale

I have no father-in-law 
(I'm sure he exists) 
he sleeps, fucks my mother-in-law 
(hopefully she's a nice lady and will treat me well) 
he showers and is a good Christian 
a good Christian is rare in this country 
Hypocrites, the lot of them
God knows the cross I bear 
would make the Virgin Mary cry
wonder how many 
brothers and sisters he fathered 
before my husband 
natural / illegitimate / aborted
my husband has a 50/50 chance
 of marrying my father-in-law 
a hypocritical Christian / an honest atheist
good father to his real kids / a bad musician in the car
someone is playing a game / in the house that I grew up in 
the house where I thought / a marriage would free me
my castle / my abode / the place I thought I'd never leave 
pry the deed from my cold dead hands
 the house where AJ scratched my cheek
my people are maids 
my people eat bratwurst 
my people make wine 
my people run with the bulls
my people Dance with Dragons 
my people conceal carry in the dark

3. Human Racing

surviving is a verb, living is too 
breathing 
smelling 
touching 
words that imply movement
I've not stopped moving 
since yesterday 
whenever that was
wish I could stop time 
the rat race 
aging 
Death 
Sex 
Taxes
Memento Mori 
Latin: remember you will die
keep that Hubris in check
we're all born to die 
a monied death 
if you didn't buy it, you are the product
can't stop, won't stop, you don't even know how to stop
stop the ride 
the human race
please exit through the gift shop

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1. Sentimental x Unsentimental

The stars in the skies 
dripped into your eyes 
like the beautiful ones 
hold you when you're done 
I'm in this for love, not procreation 
Fallen Angels, righteous sins 
raptured in this direction
baby it's you, it's always been you
from the moment
 I breathed you 
in like a fog
tripping in the dark 
and into your arms
and another one 
pound me like a drum 
brush the ivory 
got me singing in harmony
that Beast with two backs 
coiled like a snake 
make it worth your while
kisses loaded with guile 
write a Silly Symphony 
Under the cherry blossom tree

2. Harmony Palatial

pink colored chlorophyll 
sunshine blue marker
concrete easel 
another one 
you're a DJ 
Walkabout 
under the jazz Promenade 
be a Jesus says hello 
measure for measure
a forest slice honestly 
mirrors seek wrinkles 
presidential silence 
elephantine stretch

3. Hospital Bench

poems gush out my fingertips 
written carefully in blood 
tattooed on my skin 
the original sin
sapphire blue 
crimson red 
fetch me a napkin 
sharpen the quill 
pumice the moments 
lovely bops of clarity 
because nothing else 
in this damn world 
makes a lick of sense

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1. Where Do I Belong?

all my life I straight tripped on who I was 
was I Filipino, was I American 
for 28 years I cannot assume either role 
I was never pigeonholed, but I never belonged
my accent is NorCal, born and bred 
my height is so misled 
I eat rice with my hands 
I nosh hamburgers for breakfast 
I say God Bless America with the firefighters 
I sing dahil Sa iyo like the Divas 
I drive like a maniac on the freeway 
but that's a given whether I'm brown or pink
doing our research made us children of the world 
Filipino Chinese Spanish German French 
loose lips sink ships 
Merchant ships brought lips together
sharing silly stories 
firing up new memories 
a whole new Branch to embrace
you can feed me cloying words 
tell me I should feel wronged
but you would be wrong 
I belong to both 
and to neither 
it's a miracle to feel 
as lonely as I've ever been
but as safe as I'll ever be 
caught between so many worlds 
I'll always be your girl

2. Blinded

if I could, I would 
give my eyes 
back to God 
return to sender 
address unknown 
to remove from me 
the grief that comes 
with being slightly shadowed 
in everyday situations 
these pin Pricks of space 
that adjust appropriately 
for the dark 
to the light 
unto the breach 
can't see the leaf 
on the Wind 
Watch how it soars
tired of seeing halfway 
can't meet you there neither 
I can't get anything right

3. twenty-four

24 hours in a day
24 years since 
riots serenaded the streets of LA
that powder keg 
of corruption
safety of unreality
violated blue and red combined 
made purple United 
against the tyranny of the 5-0 
we lived six hours away 
working class neighborhood 
Southside Modesto 
I can see your face cringe 
all the way over here
when I tell people where I lived
never thought it was that close
until the house down the Block 
had black and whites 
crowding our quiet street 
red and blue lights pulsing 
imprinting in my brain 
that damn song 
worming its way 
into Consciousness 
breaking off 
my innocence with it

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1. Kiss of Def

Forever the Sickest 
this is how I see myself 
a little bit cynical 
always a miracle 
I learned early on 
depend on no one but yourself 
call it a front, call it a shield 
ain't no one but me stepping out on the field 
life is but a dream
but loneliness is my reality 
Solitude, platitudes 
gratitudes are such unreality 
Melodies and songs 
plow through my mind 
these are the things that are one of a kind 
they're not my own but they're on my breath 
like the salty Sweet Taste 
of my kiss of death

2. Up to Eleven

I have dis song in my heart 
all I hear is the dull Roar of Broken Dreams 
pounding in my head 
steam train 
It's a Wonderful World of Color 
everything is in black and white 
Under determined to keep moving forward
sailing off a cliff into Oblivion 
I want freedom from the old ways 
before the end days
splayed out 
a corpse from fantasy 
Mercy Mercy Me

3. Everyone is Equal

everyone is equal but some are more equal than others
in death we treat everyone the same
undeserved of the textbook definition of respect 
in life the ones we slurred for political opinions 
judged harshly for the dead bedrooms 
pitied the victims you stomped 
as you walked your yellow brick road
conversations drop an octave 
when the obituary's published 
truth Benders erupt from the woodwork 
praising specters of a life while lived
truly a life well lived unwell full stop 
death does not pass go 
make the scars they left 
remind you every day 
you'll live your life

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1. Pomegranate Juice

Sweet and sour. 
Puckered tongues and stained fingertips. 
I had a great line here, 
but I deleted it in revision. 
I tend to ramble, 
and I drop in images from things I've learned. 
And I've learned a lot. 
So much crime in the world today. 
Makes me want to hide under the covers. 
But you can't stay there, 
because you got shit to do. 
You brutalize the umami 
on my taste buds. 
I'm sucking down hydrogen monoxide 
to restore my sanity. 
Turned out. Dropped in. The state I'm in. 
California. 
He sighs loudly from his lips, 
and the halitosis is intense. 
I'm glad this doesn't apply to me, 
because I'd be freaking out right now. 
How much gas did I use to get here? 
And how do I get back? 
I'll never know when it ends. 
When the next door splinters 
in the hallway of my belligerent head. 
All I could think of the moment I moved in, 
is that I came full circle to my childhood. 
Front lawns with no grass, 
only broken cars. 
Margarita salt was the common candy 
on the playground. 
We didn't know any better. 
Margarita salt's pretty good on its own. 
McMansions filled my eyes for over a decade, 
but i felt safer buried in its conformity. 
A funny observation, 
because I never felt like that before.
Scrawny. 
Tall for an American born Asian. 
The only Filipino in every class I was in. 
I never culturally fit in 
with the Mexicans, Blacks, 
and the eventual white flight from the South Side. 
The dread of what I left behind 
so long ago returned. 
My car got broken into at Denny's. 
Stared at. 
Silently judged. 
Dismissed. 
I'm ready to go. 
I think I know what home is. 
I think. 
Cool guys walk away from explosions. 
Not me. 
I stare into the fire. 
Drawn to the heat. 
Like the spiders at the door to hell. 
I must be the only academic 
who hates statistics. 
Numbers bore me. 
Money is quantified by numbers, 
and I never have any. 
I've come full circle 
in two years. 
Where do I go from here? 
Writing poems 
looks like I'm taking notes. 
No shame. They don't know me. 
I can give anything to sleep right now. 
I haven't had a day off 
in over three weeks. 
I thrive on Red Bulls. 
Prayers. 
I sleep when I can get it. 
With my dog at my feet. 
He wakes up too easily. 
Bouncing like a butiki 
to rob me of my dreams. 
The Sandman works twice as hard 
when we snuggle. 
Twisted dreams 
peppered with Wilhelm screams.

2. The Transitory Nature of Self

It seems as though I am 
in a constant state of transition. 
People come, people go, 
but nothing ever really changes. 
Perpetual motion until a greater force 
propels me in another direction. 
I ache to find stability in earthquake-friendly regions. 
Why do I open myself to such heartache? 
I must have been a masochist in another time, another place
doomed to repeat 
the biological imperative of limbo, 
my karmic punishment for some unknown wrong. 
So, I'll continue to feel hopeful 
for something else.

3. always at war (with myself).

A constant battle to march 
to the beat of their drum. 
Fighting a noble war, the away team. 
Don't even know I am here. 
Things got to get better. 
Fall in line. 
March two, three, four. 
Don't cry your own tears (At night).
 Tried to play the game, lost the plot. 
Got up, lost the plot. 
Tried to make my world in my image. 
Lower the defense stat, 
for I am defeated. 
Take my pound of flesh. 
Ain't got no fight left. 
These war games 
forgot me how to dream.

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1. Flip the Script

It had to look real. 
bruise had to be shaped just so. 
Lampshade swayed like Newton's law, equal but opposite. 
It was the only heavy object within reach. 
Timed carefully. 
The neighbors weren't here. 
They would see his car in the driveway. 
The wound would be temporary. 
Band-Aid. 
This house, a prison, 
an expensive gilded cage.

2. Culmination

I'm trying to recall 
how it felt to have 
a country home in your arms
 the scent of your cologne 
blinds the fiber of my being 
a party, as the world ends
 the beat of your heart 
unsweetened lemonade 
on the tongue of my skin
 I used to excite your molecules
 false oxygen in your brain 
fired by the micro waves of touch
 is there a space for me
 at your table for two 
I make coffee for you
 in the a.m. 
like you were real 
like you're not in my bones 
wear not my crown 
the one I bought you 
to hide your gray hairs 
that I didn't mind 
as much as you
Eighteen months later, a love heart 
like water into the gutter, 
echoes on the empty McMansions. 
Singing profanity, vain words 
of the love and devotion 
I used to feel about us, 
about you, you selfish cunt. 
When all I wanted was you, 
that's all I ever wanted.

3. The Precarious Position

Walk a perfect circle around me. 
Quietly observe my happily married peers
Some with kids, some not, but never alone. 
I don't see the start of that world for me, ever, 
and I feel strangely fine. 
Liberation opened doors for my gender, 
to choose or not to choose, 
but sometimes? 
perhaps only when I breathe 
my Catholic guilt suggests 
I should crash into a twist of fate. 
I wasn't supposed to end up like Madame Bovary, 
her concepts of life guided by books, 
the trajectory of her existence 
based on the romance, 
never living life, 
merely thrust into it 
like the sound of a kick drum. 
I was supposed to have seen the world by now, 
a blitzkrieg of light in the form of knowledge, 
London, Paris, Tokyo, Madrid
trapped in a snow globe of dust and cactus
measured as a lengthy, self-inflicted bender, 
weeping in some dark abscess of neon. 
What does heaven look like to an angel? 
Is it the same as ours? 
Is it guided by instinctively knowing? 
And what is heaven to an angel anyways? 
Do they need to drive towards that perfection 
like the rest of us do, 
or do they travel with it, 
in books, 
as the rest of us do?

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1. Mrs. Bumblebee

over cinnamon apple tea 
Technicolor pictures Galore 
she dreamed of her lover 
and so much more 
I was a starving artist 
oil streaked Carnations, Arms Reach 
I danced with peasants and ate with Kings 
the rustle of the quail song 
pounding against the Riverbed 
the Opera of the Nightingale 
to usher in a peaceful slumber 
tributes of the birds, the bees
of emptiness, and the trees 
and my lover's calls 
I spoke layman's words 
but dreamt of a space 
at the dais of the demagogue 
I used to scrawl carelessly 
painted his portrait 1,000 times 
or maybe just his smile 
I cry out in my light sleep, I tell that girl every day 
asking why God had to have his way 
one day the rain fell as thick as black oil 
as dark as my work in progress on the soil 
asking him to stay, he faded away 
I kissed the fog on a sunny day 
I sketched him with my hands 
I sculpted the wound with my feet 
I molded the lust and vanilla beads 
in this rocking chair 
I melted into the night 
until the voices told me to take flight 
I stopped at the store, craving to paint more 
of the lover I lost long ago 
over oatmeal cookies 
acrylic paint Galore 
I lecture on my lover 
and so much more.

2. S’embrasser

Quand il m'embrasse, je ne sais pas quoi faire.
J'entends le chant des oiseaux bleus, et mon esprit…
Je me sens mieux quand il est là,
et mon conte de fées est complet.

When he kisses me, I don't know what to do.
I hear the bluebirds singing, and my mind...
I feel better when he's here,
and my fairy tale is complete.

3. Trip the Light Fantastic

Screaming into the wind 
silenced by the rush 
that whips by the open window 
intrusive thoughts from the top down 
grandparent,parent,child,Apo 
unable to unfold itself 
with a snap of God's finger 
the air calmed 
and I was left 
with the scars on my skin 
and the blood on the page 
with no explanation 
no response 
to the question that rips 
into the light fantastic

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1. The Monster That Ate Time

unfriendly fountain 
an ugly monster dances 
whilst watching the time

2. Hello World

hello world, what are you doing on my front step 
guess it's my turn to shine in the spotlight 
I don't think I'm ready yet 
I still have things to do, here in my castle 
that you wouldn't understand 
I'm perfectly fine on my own 
and in the end, I'll die, sad and alone 
don't burden me with your problems, you say 
I'm just a member of the silent majority, you say
How am I supposed to refute that? 
do I need to seek professional help 
pay my hard-earned money
money to people who don't need it 
to tell some scholar academic my problems 
when Common Sense dictates what I already know 
you're merely a robot 
programmed to listen 
to obey 
another Infamous good boy gone bad rocket scientist 
to tell you to cry, to suffer, to touch, to adore, j'adore
but you can't feel, can you, world? 
We're silent Partners, world 
and I wonder: is your partnership a blessing 
a wake-up call from the gods 
reassuring my immortal salvation 
excuse me, who are you?
I'm so confused
 I'm alone in my principles 
ground glass in my oatmeal cookies 
the blood from the wounds tastes just like ketchup 
I let you rotate, world 
spin and weave your pretty little lies 
to create a Purple Haze 
a fog to envelope me in sorrow 
a cloak of forgetfulness 
the summer air is heavy 
my heart beats like a drum 
my knees are weak and I'm sweating bad 
won't you come inside?
I'll turn the cold air on 
so you'll be okay 
see my eyes, world? 
I'm mentally undressing you 
so I know how you feel 
when you're like me 
when you're naked 
all the carnal feelings of the flesh 
play tricks on your mind 
the core of your star-studded sex is calling for me 
sadly enough 
sex rocks my world 
they say 
Catholic schoolgirls are hypocrites, starved 
a brand of sexual innocence in a plaid skirt 
sucking on a cherry lollipop 
if that's so, send me to hell right away 
so I'm a liar 
I'll tell you one thing 
and do another 
World, I change 
I cry for you 
I feel for you 
the incense lingers in the air 
like the treachery 
that you told me 
before we go our separate ways 
please know that I've tried
 I never lied 
I never cheated 
I never stole 
everything else was a go 
how does it feel 
to be reminded 
of your imperfections 
I don't even know 
if the words on this page 
make sense 
but flawlessness is not you, world 
you cry 
you wail 
you gnash your teeth 
and I undergo your pain 
in the depths of my soul 
but I still feel as though I can't trust you 
I depended on you for Comfort 
friendship and 
the occasional episode 
of casual sex 
and even now you deny me 
look at me, I'm still the lanky 
raven-haired Beauty you ordered 
I'm just a pawn in your chess game 
a piece of beautiful garbage 
but then again 
I'm not 
your tears are my tears, world 
I feel unloved, unwanted, not needed, sometimes world 
I only undressed you 
because I've always been naked 
in front of you I try to be different 
which defeats the point.

3. Mon cœur

Où est mon cœur? 
Il est dans les yeux brun a mon amour. 
Pourquoi est-ce qu'il est parti à chez moi, 
ma peau fait froid sans il. 
Je penche ma tête dans une prière 
pour mon cœur revient à moi. 
J'entends la voix de mon petit cœur dans à autres. 
J'entends l'amour, 
la patience, 
la force, 
mais les soupçons aussi. 
J'avais oublié les soupçons.

Where is my heart?
It's in the brown eyes of my lover.
Why did he leave my home?
My skin is cold without him.
I bow my head in prayer
for my love to come back to me.
I hear the voice of my love in others.
I hear the love,
the patience,
the strength,
but the suspicions too.
I had forgotten the suspicions.

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