JUST A WOMAN

JUST A WOMAN

Warm light on the back are familiar fingers
but they will not be back as caresses again.
They can only unravel bandages of wounds
that will not heal but will not feel any pain.

I am done with them. All feelings betray us
before they become clear: they sap courage,
and quickly turn into skeletons of passion.
I want to be a woman, not a chair to catch
torn and tired bodies that need mending.

I, too, hanker for strength from the strong,
unquenchable hunger I could eagerly satisfy
when it finds its harbor and home in a place
I, and only I, can shape or rearrange or own,
or drink like a glass of cold water to cool me
down when I have no more need for loving.

A primal urge clear on this face. Feel it. Fill it.

---ALBERT B. CASUGA

A poem inspired by a Luisa Igloria poem and subsequently published by Axlepin Publishing as a featured poem in January 2013. @ Painting above by Hugo Urlacher of Argentina.

STAYING ALIVE

STAYING ALIVE

Because what we now have is a life

we will never have again, something

as unrepeatable as living or dying,

we drink to it as often as we turn down

an empty cup, and learn to forgive

what was given or not, noblese oblige,

coming as we do to this strange place

without as much as a warning or even

our consent. We did not know. 

Because we did not plan to be born,

is it too vexing to learn--perhaps

to revel in--the myriad acts of loving,

of living, and in return be grateful

to perform the surprisingly magical art

of shaping life, nurturing it, finding it

where no one would lead us, blind

as we are to this fire in our weak loins? 

Was that left behind by a rushed maker,

like a spare screw, and we had to find

where it would fit snugly, divinely apt

and delicately, deliciously, our manner

of staying alive when dying is better?

 

--- ALBERT B. CASUGA