Poetry&Stuffby
MARNE KILATES
MARNE
S
KRIPTS
from
Antinostalgia & the Tokhang
Rhapsodies
from
Antinostalgia & the Tokhang
Rhapsodies
From Mga Biyahe, Mga Estasyon
From Journeys, Junctions
(a collection of travel poems)
from
Antinostalgia & the Tokhang
Rhapsodies
Poems 2022
Poems 2022
Poems 2022
Poems 2022
From Mga Biyahe, Mga Estasyon
From Journeys, Junctions
(a collection of travel poems)
From Mga Biyahe, Mga Estasyon
From Journeys, Junctions
(a collection of travel poems)
From Mga Biyahe, Mga Estasyon
From Journeys, Junctions
(a collection of travel poems)
From Mga Biyahe, Mga Estasyon
From Journeys, Junctions
(a collection of travel poems)
From Mga Biyahe, Mga Estasyon
From Journeys, Junctions
(a collection of travel poems)
From Mga Biyahe, Mga Estasyon
From Journeys, Junctions
(a collection of travel poems)
From Mga Biyahe, Mga Estasyon
From Journeys, Junctions
(a collection of travel poems)
Mixed PoMo Xmas Blues
while Surfing FB
for Marcel Antonio
The Spirit was insistent
when I saw the PAL video
showing foreigners singing
Kumukutikutitap!
their tongues twisting
I posted it on my own page
and tagged my kids in Colorado
to ask what they thought—
“Nice but a bit awkward,” said one
and the other did not respond
and then I saw Marcel’s
cover picture of a tawny Renaissance
canvas (Italian most probably,
I thought) with lutenists adoring
at the Nativity—fascinated but
humbled with my scant art history
I Googled it and found it was
by Piero della Francesca:
oh I am running out of words
to describe blue I could hear Elvis’
mumbling tremolo I’ll have a blue blue
Christmas without you
and Mel Torme’s chestnuts roasting
on an open fire (which are shades
of the manger’s brown)
our chestnuts of course can be found
only in supermarkets I remember
the only short story I wrote in college
was perhaps tinged with Christmas blue
and called predictably The Gift
while trying hard to be in the style
of O. Henry and like many of us
I didn’t know Ang Pasko ay Sumapit
(meant to dispel the blues)
was first written in Cebuano
Marne Kilates
December 20, 2015
I was captivated by the darkest blue
Florentine gown of the Virgin
so blue as if there were stars in it
coruscating in the fathomless
blue of the drapery behind her
like the Solsequiem blue
Marj Evasco used to describe
a Picasso so deep and pure but never
opaque to accent the infant flesh
the incarnation of the Spirit
swaddled in an even deeper cerulean
the fabric crinkling like silk
or organdy with cirrus wisps
surely cushioning him on the gritty
brown ground not the baby blue
of flannel but veined vortices of lapis
the shadows infinite velvet indigo
as deep as the universe deeper
than the slate frock of one of the lutenists
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