I murmur like a rivulet through the
hitch of your hands, where the canyons
carve their parched longing into your fingers—
where silences sublimate like cera,
pooling beneath your glissando touch.
Your tremolo breath convulses rough and low
like sibilant submersion in water—
spilling, sinking, staining everything it meets.
I watch the estuary of your gaze split my horizon—
watch you hush abysmal eyes into
celestially arched surrender.
There is no stillness between starlight,
only the pull of mighty magnitudes,
fuses lit beneath the ribs,
pulses and throbs teaching the air
how to cleave—how to…
sforzando!
Love, here, is neither reserved nor reticent—
it is lightning bottled in glass—
hellfire burning beneath the tide—
language that deconstructs
even as it is uttered.
I step forward—some faltering cadence,
some submitting ascension—placing my hands into your fire,
not to be consumed, but to remember
how stars revel and rain.
Ending the silence
His voice resounds…
filling the prophets
with joy profound
(The First Book Of Prayers: October, 2021)
Voices that are so
smooth, drag
crowds
to the precipice...
so whispering
induce spirits
to delirium...
voluptuous
carry bodies
to Nirvana...
Which are so fake, that
stab the life
by back...
peaceful voices,
restore actions
from other voices.
Divine voices, in the
rid of all evil...
Voices, voices, voices...
not all must
be heard...!
in this life...!,
A Poet first,
long before the first word
Musings inherent
—crying to be heard
(Dreamsleep: May, 2020)
Vox a voice
Prize fond choice
Vet sure poise
Still the noise
Feel prompt flow
Come to know
Glimpse due show
Watch light glow
Laugh and sing
Watch life fling
Catch thought string
Joy blooms bring
Wear a face
Full of grace
Look to space
Run your race
Leon Enriquez
14 March 2017
Singapore
Here in my head your
voice was fragmented into
pixels of strangeness.
Listen and heed
The voice of need
Let true love seed
In that faint hum
Heed heart that sums
A song that comes
In silence still
A hum now fills
To spark a thrill
In subtle ease
Still vox of peace
In fond increase
In wordless word
Ease can be heard
In dance of dirt
In the clear glow
Word hurls the show
Of all we know
Listen and dwell
Glow in fine tell
Where all is well
Leon Enriquez
06 August 2015
Singapore
[It is the spontaneous utterance of the universal conscience.
- Elihu Burritt, “The Empire of Public Opinion”]
Remember that day, Elihu,
when you stood at your forge as the earth
shook underfoot. A steam-locomotive,
come to change the world.
Foot-traveler by choice, you walked out
to see what was left after the passing
of the Iron Dragon, and found a printing press
already spreading the news.
In not so many years, the Trans-Atlantic-Telegraph
would spread it even faster. You imagined
John of Patmos transported to your time, declaring
there was no more sea to separate
the continents, there was time no longer
between the event and the whole globe’s knowing it.
How quickly things can change,
yet some things seem to ever stay the same.
What word would you spread, Elihu?
You say Slavery at last is dead. But War –
destroyer of the soul – remains. Let the people
speak. Let it be God’s word. Peace.
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