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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, April 27, 2014


A painting by Danny Castillones Sillada


(For Danny Castillones Sillada)

Nothingness, therefore, is the terminus a quo and the terminus ad quem of human freedom because nothing before or after follows the human inactivity and indifference, but the will to feel, the will to reason, the will to ponder, and the will to live. …Man is nothing until he unfolds and lives his nothingness with value and meaning.---Danny Castillones Sillada

Dread is all there is to look for: all fears
found all found fearful. An undiscovered country
touched for moments of eternity not there
pour between fingers, time watching time

colour blind’s grey Journeyman’s carousel
among the stars. Still an undiscovered country.

Between the egg and the sky or whatever space
is allowed between them, heaves the Tension.

Surely, between whatever binds everything to nothing
and the trace of distinction between life and dying
is nothing’s extension. Still the end of this space
is his beginning to know where ends he whose touch
is the question: Am I everything or nothing? I am?
Let me shape myself then. This time, in my own image.

---Albert B. Casuga

Revised, 04-27-2014


1 comment:

Unknown said...

Thank you so much for the dedication Sir Albert, I’m so honored, a great birthday poem present on my birthday. I love these lines: “Am I everything or nothing? I am? / Let me shape myself then. This time, in my own image.” It sums up everything. :)