Eat My Tanaga, You Bastard!

When I hurt, I write. Friends who haven’t been seduced by writing (yet) often ask, “How can you write anything while you are in pain?” And just as often, I respond, “How can you keep yourself from writing your defiance into agony’s bullying face?” Fine! So, I don’t really say that to them, but I think it. Because it’s true. When I hurt, I shove my words into pain’s throat. Then, I laugh like a maniac. And while pain is baffled by the uncanniness of my behavior, I shriek, “Eat my Tanaga, you bastard!” All right already, this is my first Tanaga battle cry. But all the rest is true. When I hurt, pain eats my words. No compromise.


Say hello to my little Tanaga:

Hot hurts my words won’t whither,
reigned pain can make ink sweeter—
stories kiss torture better
and poems dull the bitter.



the wee notes…
Tanaga: Filipino poem (7-7-7-7 syllabic verse, with an aaaa rhyme scheme).
– yes, the title made me giggle. Giggles, too, make good weapons in the battle against pain. It has been scientifically proven (by my flesh and bones and me).
– linked to the Imaginary Garden with Real Toads.

Chilling Heat

“The only hope, or else despair
Lies in the choice of pyre or pyre-
To be redeemed from fire by fire
[or, at least, to get even more
sizzled by fiery cheekiness]
~ T.S. Eliot [+ a muse gone wild]


Our love lies
under snow curtains
warmed by hope,
singing of spring boons
while frost bites on ears.

If your flesh loses all warmth, my girl, I’d want you still.

I hear
you joke about
falling hard for a frigid girl,
and think, Necrophilia
isn’t cool.

To escape your chilling heat, I’d barbecue your bosom.



the wee notes…
– partly inspired by Fireblossom’s hysterical post, “How Not to Write a Love Poem”, which sardonically says that when poetizing love, a poet should “Use ‘burning’ and all its variations, liberally: Burning lips, fiery fingertips, barbecued bosom…” I’ve been burning to use the phrase “barbecued bosom”, or something like it, ever since. Yes, I cackled (and cringed) after I wrote this.
– this piece contains a tanka, a cinquain, and two self-proclaimed free verses.
– for the Imaginary Garden with Real Toads and Hedgewitch’s Friday 55.