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Fhen M. |
Bio: Fhen M. studied the academic subjects Writing in the Discipline, 𝘛𝘩𝘦 𝘓𝘪𝘵𝘦𝘳𝘢𝘵𝘶𝘳𝘦 𝘰𝘧 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘗𝘩𝘪𝘭𝘪𝘱𝘱𝘪𝘯𝘦𝘴, and The Literature of the World at Eastern Visayas State University. His Waray poem “Uyasan” (“Toy” in English”) was published in a collection of literary works entitled 𝘗𝘪𝘯𝘪𝘭𝘪: 15 𝘠𝘦𝘢𝘳𝘴 𝘰𝘧 𝘓𝘢𝘮𝘪𝘳𝘢𝘸. His English verses appeared in 𝘗𝘰𝘦𝘵𝘪𝘤𝘢 anthology series published by Clarendon House, including "Lighthouse," “Seaport,” “January Constellations,” among others. Red Penguin Books’ 𝘈𝘣𝘰𝘶𝘵 𝘛𝘪𝘮𝘦: 𝘈 𝘊𝘰𝘮𝘪𝘯𝘨-𝘰𝘧-𝘈𝘨𝘦 𝘗𝘰𝘦𝘵𝘳𝘺 𝘈𝘯𝘵𝘩𝘰𝘭𝘰𝘨𝘺 will publish his piece “Outside the Block Universe". His poem “Sea Snail” will also be included in 𝘍𝘭𝘰𝘳𝘢/𝘍𝘢𝘶𝘯𝘢 𝘈𝘯𝘵𝘩𝘰𝘭𝘰𝘨𝘺 by Open Shutter Press. Fhen M. submitted verses in Waray for the 5th Lamiraw Creative Writing Workshop, including the 𝘴𝘪𝘥𝘢𝘺 “Duha nga mga pagtug-an” (translated in English as “Two confessions”). David Genotiva, Merlie Alunan, and Victor Sugbo were some of the distinguished panelists of this writing workshop held from the 5th to the 7th of November 2008. His Binisaya poems “To View the World,” “Those who were Left in Cancabatoc,” and other verses won the 1st Chito Roño Literary Awards.
Water’s Song
pebbles form as flowing water washes
over rock particles on the bottom
the water softly laps against the shore
old twisted trees and spiky plants
growing along the banks
gentle sound of water heard from a stream
the murmur of the water cleanses
the disturbed mind.
***
Before Dead Leaves Crackled on the Ground
a Rhododendron flower blooms
hear the pitter-patter of raindrops
on pink petals;
tune in to the leaves rustling in the wind
white noise sounds
of breeze blowing through trees;
listen to your innermost self
before leaves are whipped into the air,
before dead leaves crackled on the ground.
***
The First Speech of Thunder
she sits in a chair like a shining throne
facing a marble wall without mirror
thus speaks thunder:
don’t enter to her stone chamber,
you are neither her husband nor her king,
let her untangle the barrette in her hair,
wash the makeup on her pretty face,
take off the dress from her supple body,
let her be alone in that high-ceiling room,
silk curtains between monolith columns
will stop the wind from coming in,
fire from the hearth will keep her warm,
let the unlock door remain closed.
in Fogtown, when storm clouds gathered distantly
I heard the sound of thunder, powerfully
Boom! Boom! Boom!
in our bamboo house, I'd listen to its speech
with awful bravery, my heartbeat pounded.
***
Let me serve nature
Thor's helmet among the planets and stars
I wonder what nebulae sound like.
I know not how goat meat tastes like
to stop the noise of an empty stomach
I'd like to try one, maybe share with my kins.
magical goats served on a banquet table
children chewed the meat, broke the bone
thunderclaps were heard nearby.
***
Squeal of a Pig
pour a boiling water from a kettle
into a cup of coffee or tea
bottoms up, Dante.
undercover animal activist
posts online a video about pig farm:
they are immersed, conscious,
into a scalding bath at a temperature
of 60 degrees Celsius where they drown.
with anguished eyes,
screams of pain pierce the air,
a hog in scalding water cries
a pig is not a person, Dante?
“let us say Napoleon the Pig,
corrupt dictator ordered Snowball’s death,
thrown into a river of boiling tar
like the grafter in a silent film”.
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