A poem for Tootsie J., a very committed writer in the Bicol Region
Pen
Ink
Sea
Tears
Pen
Ink, like rivers,
rumble within hearing distance
from our fears.
Not all get moved
though everybody hears
but we all learned
that thoughts on paper
have the power of the sea.
Like tears,
ink cleanses the eyes
of our standpoints;
merges with the downpour
on the streets
and seeks our home of meanings
that is water.
.
Like blood, ink is life
when a story is told
about the sons
and daughters
of farmers
or of urban poor job seekers
wishing to send their kids to U.P.
or Ateneo
or to the nearest university;
or when a story is told
about children dying of dengue
without medical attention;
or about mothers giving birth
in the vicinity of stress
and death;
Like arrows, pens mark
and monitor
the infinity of our longing
or angst
or torment
or ecstacy
or all of the above
over the rumblings
ignored and lost
over our turtle steps
over our hopes
towards a new geography.
Copyright ©2009 Francia C. Clavecillas
This poem is dedicated to a friend
A writer's huge income is on the psychic plane. The writer I am dedicating this humble poem to has written a lot on the aspect of local history and social consciousness. This poem is a tribute to him and a wish that he get well soon.