#luis francia

[passionfruitandwomb]

all these petty deaths i call me, i of mud and divinity.

Luis Francia | Eye of the Fish

[strangeskins]

Contexts

Contexts http://wp.me/s6VEC-contexts

I bought the Vestiges of War for 20% off at the recently concluded Manila International Book Fair. Clocking in at 500 pages, it includes visual and critical essays, photographs, plays, poetry, and artwork addressing Philippine-U.S. relations. Very substantial work and worth checking out.

Anyway, the rest of the world is probably unaware that the Philippines was once a colony of the United States…

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[travelsforthirtysomethings-blog]

Gathering Storm, by Luis Francia, From Language for a New Century 2009

Winds of sound will blow down your walls to render your rooms as desolate as the moors. Who can contain the storm that gathers each day from the multitudes of mouths, the mouths of those who have loved and bled and wept? Each name rides the hurricane, each name brings an echo, a wound that mothers a republic of nothingness. I would wish to cut my body into multitudes and to every part add a tongue to utter all their names. I would wish my body into innumerable cathedrals, every strand of hair a shrine for all who have fallen. I would wish my body to arise each time, hosts of them, manifold and myriad in their colors, god beautiful- blood red in the firewinds, emerald green in the stirring breeze, indigo under a blossoming sky, in a communion that beckons growth. The sounds that blow down your walls will be the murmurs of gardens digging deep to embrace the dead with their roots, to erect cities of bone and memory, to send out the tendrils of an epistemology, the epistemology of refusal, a refusal to die even when we are dead. Available at http://www.english.cityu.edu.hk/mfa/faculty/luis-francia.jsp An excerpt of this poem was displayed in a Parsons window last December, to help raise funds for Haiyan survivors. Thanks for all the help, Lucille Tenazas and Luis Francia!

[showand]

And here we are, cathedrals in our thighs banana trees for breasts and history all mixed up saxophones in our voices when we scream the love of rhythms inherent when we dance they can latin here and shoot you for the wrong glance eyes that kill eyes that kill

Jessica Hagedorn. "Song for my Father" in Brown River, White Ocean, edited by Luis Francia, 1993