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ALBERT B. CASUGA, a Philippine-born writer, lives in Mississauga, Ontario, Canada, where he continues to write poetry, fiction, and criticism after his retirement from teaching and serving as an elected member of his region's school board. He was nominated to the Mississauga Arts Council Literary Awards in 2007. A graduate of the Royal and Pontifical University of St. Thomas (now University of Santo Tomas, Manila. Literature and English, magna cum laude), he taught English and Literature (Criticism, Theory, and Creative Writing) at the Philippines' De La Salle University and San Beda College. He has authored books of poetry, short stories, literary theory and criticism. He has won awards for his works in Canada, the U.S.A., and the Philippines. His latest work, A Theory of Echoes and Other Poems was published February 2009 by the University of Santo Tomas Publishing House. His fiction and poetry were published by online literary journals Asia Writes and Coastal Poems recently. He was a Fellow at the 1972 Silliman University Writers Workshop, Philippines. As a journalist, he worked with the United Press International and wrote an art column for the defunct Philippines Herald.

Sunday, October 13, 2013


"Earth is the right place for love" says the late Nobel laureate Robert Frost in one of his poems. Is it? With all the natural disasters (earthquakes, floods, tsunamis, global warming, meltdown of the Poles, the Artic), war, violence all over the planet, droughts, wicked winters, fires (forest conflagrations, killer fires in homes and working places, Dhaka), oil spills, crashes (planes, trains, etc), man's inhumanity to man, mothers and fathers drowning their babies in bathtubs, children slaying their parents, rapes and tortures (still a regular weapon in wars, the latest chemical warfare killing children in Syria)...Signs of end times? Physicist Stephen Hawkings says these are the last thousand years of the earth. I thought I would repost these culle and revised poems published earlier (20l0) in Asia Writes, and make like Cassandra or Tiresias, or one opening Pandora's box. Voila: I told you so. Yes, the wrath of days descending. Poetry as lament, dirge, omen, and an unhappy rant --- Why not?

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