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Rommel Mark Dominguez Marchan

adventure ***** EAGLE'S EYE VIEW

downtown Davao City seen from upper Toril
Mt. Talomo's foothills, Tungkalan

Bind your eyes with mine all curious Dabawenyos
all nature-keen lovers, all city spectators
Bind your visions with me
as mine eyes move down from this mountain hills
where my cold feet anchor to witness spectacular place
and never mind all jests thrown by some innocent guests

Witness now with me the Asia's most promising city
See it now at that distant southern most downhill
like an ancient civilized world touching the
warm belly of the tragic Davao gulf

So excited as the king eagle gazing down the prey
flying above the floating verdant Samal garden
smacked by the erotic kisses of the waves
fleeing from far-flung Celebes sea

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idealism ***** ANCIENT WARS ARE CURRENT TERROR

Old wars were glorious
had justifiable noble purposed
necessary, understandable
tagged with humanitarian
heroic reasons
for survival sake
weapon's hit of curiosity
discovery and experiments
no business deals
territorial identical crisis
fought for freedom
vengeance and integrity
against empire explorations
with dynasty's cultures, traditions
religions, art's differences sparked
frictions among unriped nations
from ancient Sparta in Greece
via Genghis Khan attacked
back to Holy land crusade
via American civil war

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nostalgia ***** WHEN I GO HOME TO PALILAN

(written a night before I go back home, Manila to Palilan, Jimenez, Mis.Occ. circa 2000)

When I go home to Palilan I would hurriedly walk on the long road to home.
I’ll throw my warmest smile and look straight thru their eyes who surprise prettily about my unpredictable journey from somewhere they never know as I come back without crown they expect.

I’ll greet them the way how my strange friends welcomed my rare visits and wrote poems on what it’s like to fill up the missing link for my extended home.

I’ll show them how challenging the world exists beyond our own barangay
What life I have experienced while climbing legendary mountains, sailing rainstormy seas, exploring risky cities.

When I go home to Palilan I’ll go to the river then take my time at the back of my elementary school yard
I’ll face the water and count the floating clouds
I’ll spread my imagination on its transparent surface and when my imagination ceases I’ll recall my childhood wounded memories

When I get back to my home I’ll never break the family’s chain again
If they ask me where I had been I’ll read my touching anthology, open my album of memories, my loose life, my past, my everything, my solitary journey with empty pocket so perilous I feel

I’ll tell my younger bro and sis that there are roads somewhere we haven’t crossed yet. Highways we shouldn’t be afraid to explore as if sailing to the sky a smooth path for our unreachable future

When I go home to Palilan, I’ll give this narrative piece to my mama’s hand and be posted in our renovated wall near the wooden stair where I can read easily everytime I go back home.

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