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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, September 25, 2011



Sometimes the hungry, / rusted parts of memory call out for more/ salt, more tang: more time to linger. ---From “Eating Dried Fish with Our Hands” by Luisa A. Igloria, Via Negativa, 09-24-11

Frolic among seaweeds we would gather into mounds
not unlike this fall sundown’s first raking of the leaves:
I remember him laughing at my crown of sargasso; I
could still taste the brine on his fingers when he fed me
masticated rice and dried fish singed over our seaside fire. 

O, Father, is there any way we could go back to that sea? 

Would the long shadows on these porch walls spring you
out of my mind’s eye, dig you out of my heart? If I prayed
like I have never begged before, will you to pull me out
of this hammock, race me to the tallest rock on Poro Pt.? 

Will you then mockingly laugh how flabby I have grown,
and how I needed to eat dried fish from your bare hands
and wash them down with lemon-and-salt-spiked anise.? 

How long will this rusted memory last? Will you linger?

--- Albert B. Casuga


Marly Youmans said...

Like the simplicity and longing, Albert!


Thanks, Marly. Still struggling to make poetry as understandable as possible. Going back to when it was cathartic.