top of page
  • Writer's pictureMarías at Sampaguitas

5 Poems by Angela Gabrielle Fabunan



That First Rain Fervently trying to return to the start of rainy season,

when gestures rotted in the air, when words acquired the cruelty

of stone, when all the tears fell along the mountainside

of my face, the water emptied from the sky

and the stars hid away my opinion of you. I am trying to remember that first rainfall

that made me forget everything good.

I am trying to remember that first rainfall

because then, there was nothing good.

Because when you talk now, all pointed eyes,

wits back, and wit on point, cheery and cherry

as red desire that I feel once more in my bones

the past hurt goes blindsided in the wayside.

You are gesturing again at affection and lassoing the sun,

and I am left to forget the forgetting—that first fall of rain.




Dreamscape A dream you only see live

I was there, center stage,

To the one act of your body--

Restraint


Dreams live in the head,

But it was at once real

And unreal, witnessing

Sanity


Unravelling, in a dance

Tapping well-mannered

Into a harrowing

Scream


But enough nightmares.

The blue of the sky

Is enough to hold us

Both


Under the same trees

In that familiar cold

A goodbye resides

Forever




The Sea That Calls Itself a Home

I arrive at the pavement, perpendicular to it

You are upright where the moon holds its secrets.

No moon yet, the sun buoyant in its rise.

Too many a time, we have praised the moon,

But this is not that type of poem. No night,

no lady in waiting for a letter. In the a.m.

that is today, I am vertical with you, us

parallel, and the sea no longer in between. There is only air between us, where aching

mouths utter prayers for a dirge, beckoning

the sea. We are landlocked creatures,

asymptote in our movements. No water

in the apartment, but I hear the dam will flow

soon. The sea is waiting to be held by angels.




Impression

I am once again caught in the brink: the moment

when honesty spills out in vents of broken blinds

and leaves you wanting the light of the dimming sun:

you, sitting there, listening to me speak, unsure

if friendships can churn like the bubbles in

an old bottle of cheap champagne, or if it will

dissipate as easily into the air, years of comradery

dying like the sun in the horizon, you are hearing

me speak—the sorrys dull the moment

into discarded piles of ash…or, or…

will you let me not waste this opportunity to say,

for all lifetime, how I regret hurting you

like the moon hurts the sun by its rising, all traces

swept away like a hurried woman sweeping,

all the dust burning in a display of radiance

in warmth, joy and laughter to be replaced by

your last look as you fade away—it is now night.



Butterfly Kisses

for Maria

The dead come back the folklore goes

as butterflies their souls entrapped

for a few weeks in these creatures of beauty

wanting to say “You are loved” one last time

visiting dreamlike you in a lawn chair

on the terrace tired from gardening

suddenly arrested by the kiss of a butterfly—

don’t you know that’s him comforting you

whispering in the shelter of the bougainvillea

goodbye.





Angela Gabrielle Fabunan is an MA Student at the University of the Philippines, Diliman. Her first book of poems is published by Platypus Press, 2019. 

161 views0 comments

Recent Posts

See All
bottom of page