Tales of Winter & Exile
Paris settles, then
freezes quietly into inflections.
You pause a certain way, and
hold our backyard still along edges
of moist petals.
Silhouettes over framed pictures
migrate further in, searching for the
green in mango and coconut trees that
surround summers in childhood.
Prague sweats neon without
music, in bottles of hazy, overlapping
thumbprints.
Nights huddle like survivors in a boat,
after the Titanic sank, in a Hollywood set.
Before breakfast, sounds in the kitchen
cultivate long intervals,
utensils cannot refuse each other's
noisy, violent contacts,
while coffee heats reminders of
church-bells in Manila, echoing
through flight of birds chasing kites,
disintegrating geometries in the
square beneath our steps.
Frequent Flyer
While facing the
runway, a boy's hand
imitates airplanes,
freeing skies in it.
His voice helps
him fly it, until
skies tuck him
in. Up there,
calm glides through
clouds, the way nights
spread in his prayers
into raised voices
keyed high to master
slammed doors.
Born in the Philippines, Michael Caylo-Baradi now lives near Mexico. His work has appeared in Eclectica, elimae, Kartika Review, Metazen, Prick of the Spindle, Underground Voices, Popmatters, Latin American Review of Books, and elsewhere.
Paris settles, then
freezes quietly into inflections.
You pause a certain way, and
hold our backyard still along edges
of moist petals.
Silhouettes over framed pictures
migrate further in, searching for the
green in mango and coconut trees that
surround summers in childhood.
Prague sweats neon without
music, in bottles of hazy, overlapping
thumbprints.
Nights huddle like survivors in a boat,
after the Titanic sank, in a Hollywood set.
Before breakfast, sounds in the kitchen
cultivate long intervals,
utensils cannot refuse each other's
noisy, violent contacts,
while coffee heats reminders of
church-bells in Manila, echoing
through flight of birds chasing kites,
disintegrating geometries in the
square beneath our steps.
Frequent Flyer
While facing the
runway, a boy's hand
imitates airplanes,
freeing skies in it.
His voice helps
him fly it, until
skies tuck him
in. Up there,
calm glides through
clouds, the way nights
spread in his prayers
into raised voices
keyed high to master
slammed doors.
Born in the Philippines, Michael Caylo-Baradi now lives near Mexico. His work has appeared in Eclectica, elimae, Kartika Review, Metazen, Prick of the Spindle, Underground Voices, Popmatters, Latin American Review of Books, and elsewhere.
