Miracle of Bubbles

Miracle of Bubbles
by Barbara Goldberg


A woman drives to the video store
to rent a movie. It is Saturday night,
she is thinking of nothing in particular,
perhaps of how later she will pop popcorn
or hold hands with her husband and pretend
they are still in high school. On the way home
a plane drops from the sky, the wing shearing
her roof of her car, killing her instantly.
Here is a death, it could happen to any of us.
Her husband will struggle the rest of his days
to give shape to an event that does not mean
to be understood. Since memory cannot operate
without plot, he chooses the romantic -- how young
she was, her lovely waist, or the ironic -- if only
she had lost her keys, stopped for pizza.

At the precise moment the plane spiraled
out of control, he was lathering shampoo
into his daughter's hair, blond and fine
as cornsilk, in love with his life, his
daughter, the earth (for "cornsilk" is how
he thought of her hair), in love with the miracle
of bubbles, how they rise in a slow dance,
swell and shimmer in the steamy air, then
dissolve as though they never were.



"The Miracle of Bubbles" by Barbara Goldberg, from Cautionary Tales. (c) Dryad Press, 1990.

Re-hash. Ho hum.

So this is how it's done, I watch her
aaaaaaaaaaIf the wounds dry up, the words die with them.
aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa--Stephen King, The Body

She sleeps with her mouth open,
and I would watch her
like she has something to say
I wait for it

But she never does, she's not one to talk now
in her sleep or awake

I have tried to decipher
these silences like overcast skies
or her bright talk once--
the sudden movement of clouds
to let the sun through, or thunder

Her moods not like the weather:
thunderstorms made her happy
or at least I think so
watching her

Pressed against the windows now
mouth again open
again silent

So this is how it's done, I watch her
The fog of her breath on the glass
appear, disappear in rhythm
like catch and release--
a heart at goodbye.


#
A re-hash of one part of a three-part poem I wrote last year. Kept the title and the epigraph(?), despite retaining only one-third of the original. The other two were blah, and needed work.

And I need sleep.

Confessions

Ari ay:

(Isa ka Pag-ako)

Ari ay: Kabudlay magsulat.

Masugod sa wala, kag matapos

Man sa wala—Walay pulos

Ining pagpa-utwas. Luwas

Ipakita nga wala

Unod akon dughan,

Kubos akong dila.

Ara ay. May guinahambal

Inang mga tinaga.

Ining babayi, may guinahandum

Nga indi matapna.

Pamati bala.

Ang mga tinaga may buot silingon.

Ining babayi, ay! Salabayon.

***

Here:

(A Confession)

Here: It is difficult to write.

To begin with nothing, and end

With nothing—Worthless,

This utterance. Revealed

Only my heart, my mouth,

Their emptiness.

There. Those words

Are telling.

This girl, she dreams,

But nothing.

Hear this:

The words have meaning.

The girl—bah!—

Romanticizing.

#

The cockroach in my bathroom

The cockroach in my bathroom

And I play a game. He is afoot
when I'm barefoot, racing
along walls, climbing
onto the sink. He slinks
out of sight when I might
have my slippers, or my
shoes on. Once I
tried to kill him with the mop,
but that was a flop, it was too
soft. Tried to flush him down
the drain, tried to drown him,
but I found out he could swim.

So I bide the day we meet
and I have shoes on my feet.
Meanwhile, my bathroom is his
when I'm not there
I don't think of him either.


***
Bow.

THE CLOSING PARTY!

THE CLOSING PARTY! WEDNESDAYS OPEN PLATFORM

June 24 / bar opens 6PM

Featuring JED ESCUETA’S Unknown A.D. with live performances by

The Beauty of Doubt / Granada / Todas / Republika de Lata / Pink Cow / Einstein Chakras

Sometimes, we never really realize that those feverish delirious bouts of spontaneity could ever reach their plateau. Perhaps the temptation to be divine and immortal are to blame. Or even the comfortable proximity of weekly debaucheries which keep us hopeful despite the throngs of the ordinary workforce, to whom we also belong, forcibly incorporated to compromise play in exchange of those seemingly safe Friday night outs. It is hard to imagine how we have managed to take over the reigns of Friday in exchange for our anarchic Wednesday-hump-day love affairs. And as far as love affairs (the same way little get away adventures) are concerned, we all know that they too eventually reach that unbearable lightness. Some get married and the others move on to other adventures.

What started out as spur of the moment let's do this out of boredom affair has grown into much loved and awaited weekly gathering. A million thanks to all of you: doers, talkers, voyeurs and hangers-on alike. Not to mention those newly initiated virgins who also made our sober nights interesting. It's almost hard to believe that it's over–but it is, we are approaching the end. Not with sorrow, regret, melancholia, sentimental cheesy songs nor relief but with a party! What else?!

So join us as we close Jed Escueta's Mama Don't Take My Kodachrome Away with his final project Unknown A.D., an arduous photo documentation of the all around Pinoy punk degenerate and underground scene accumulated over the years. And yes to bid Wednesdays-m-Love a final adieu. To all of you who have patiently followed it and to some of you who have never made it. Nevertheless, we will agree that the ride was indisputably a big one for the books. So we all better be there!!! Catch the live performances of The Beauty of Doubt, Granada, Todas, Republika de Lata, Pink Cow and Einstein Chakras. This is your last chance to make it. Never say die for tomorrow we drink!

The WOP Residency Progran is suported by Arts Network Asia. www.artsnetworkasia.org http://wednesdaysmnlove.blogspot.com

GREEN PAPAYA ART PROJECTS

41 T. Gener Street (corner Kamuning Rd.), Quezon City Phone/Fax 7941628 Mobile 0926 6635606

greenpapayaartprojects@gmail.com www.greenpapayaartprojects.org / http://papayapost.blogspot.com

Word of the day.

New-brainer. n. [noo-breyner]. Something particularly difficult to accomplish, it requires a new brain, esp. one undamaged by alcohol abuse. Antonym: no-brainer.

Happy albeit rainy Mondays, despite the song.

Featured readers for the 54th, advent-of-the-monsoon edition of the bi-weekly Happy Mondays Poetry Nights @ mag:net cafe Katipunan TONIGHT, June 1, @mag:net cafe Katipunan are as follows:

1. Totel De Jesus
2. Waps San Diego
3. JC Casimiro
4. Larry Ypil
5. Pocholo Goitia
6. Hussein Macarambon
7. Petra Magno
8. Mikael Co
9. Keith Cortez
10. Ramil Gulle
11. Mia Tijam

12. Jonar Sabilano

13. Allan Pastrana

14. Angelo Suarez
15. Emman Nobleza

(hosted by Drey Teran)

*plus other regular and surprise guest readers.

*readings start promptly at 7:30 pm followed by the Open Mic sessions @ 930pm-10pm.

*for those interested in reading during the open mic, we will leave a sign-up sheet with Rogel, the bar tender of mag:net cafe. please feel free to sign up and read your work. :)

10pm onwards, Happy Mondays BayawAcoustikZoundz featuring:

1. Jonar Sabilano
2. Waps San Diego

3. Roberto Nicolas

FREE ADMISSION the whole evening. Kitakits po tayo. :)

photo above courtesy of rlv.zcache.com