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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.

Tuesday, July 5, 2011



Days like this scare me into feeling
something new would happen.
After all, the ordinary is ordinary here. 

It is a country for old men. Quiet.
But the growl of a bear tearing at a log
can only mean some intruders are here. 

Squirrels scurry at the sight of a hawk?
It does not happen often for arboreal
rodents toughened after a winter's kill. 

It is a quaint metaphor for the world
out there, isn’t it? The strong get angry,
the small remain fearsome. Both die, too. 

All told, this languid day will see the sun
shine through the morning’s thin sky
grown grey enough to render it empty 

as the city down there wakes up to one
more bland day of strife and struggle,
a pale sun forcing itself out of a blank sky.

---Albert B. Casuga

Prompt: White sky thin enough for the sun to shine through. The sound of a bear tearing at a log. A ripple of squirrel alarms as a hawk goes past.---Dave Bonta, The Morning Porch, 07-04-11

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