Bahay Ng Mga Patay Poem by Alizon Kiel

Most of my family is dead
My son said to me
As we were leaving the cemetery
As we were heading to our home

It made sense to me
Later
Sitting at the table
Kicking off my shoes
My socks in places needing to sweep
My feet touching the earth
Grounding me where I am
That’s why I think a lot about shoes and socks and sweeping away

Pulling up to the typewriter
With sticky keys
xxxxxxxxx
Circa 1935
Underwood
Xxxxxxx

It made sense
To my eyes
To my ears
To my nose
I could taste it

We were home
Bahay ng mga patay
The house of the dead

Our family pictures
Many much older than a hundred years
My minds eye knows them well
My mind has different eyes

I keep their letters and I read them
Once as whiles keep them living
And I read and hear their voices
And I smell birthday cakes and tears

Cased in acid free covers now
They can still be read aloud
Allowed to be
Delaying disintegration for one more generation
Reliving Rebreathing Resperating through tree circles that count the years yet go around and around and around

Makatulog sa bahay ng mga patay
To sleep in the house of the dead
My son is not afraid of the dark

Here I say
In the dark spaces are all the things our eyes have been mistrained to miss
In the dark spaces is our family who need us to breathe
In the dark space is a world of spirits
I keep the window open for them
To exist in the corners of our eyes

My son is not afraid of the dark
He is afraid of being alone

I am never alone
I feel them around me
I seek their guidance
They hold my arm to pass down the hall
I say prayers to their God
I speak of them often
Speech as resurrection
Prayers travel and whisp into the darkness and speak to the spirit and the dark people waiting

Nakatira kami sa bahay ng mga patay
We live in the house of the dead