Rommel Mark Dominguez Marchan Poems

dedicated to the 3 International Commission on the Red Cross (ICRC)
volunteers. Mary Jean Lacaba, a Filipina, the Italian and the Swiss
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I travel far
Started not from home

Walking along the frontier
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they are untagged heroes
inside malls
open bus stations
airport lounge
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The sound of the crashing waves
reminded me
of my childhood innocence
returning back my thoughts
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Bloods shake in the wind
staining the invisibility of the air
spraying spectator's sight
of awareness
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Have you ever decided to leave your home for years and followed your wild steps to wander at the remote places for your pen and paper?
Have you ever board in a wooden ship across fury waves and heard nothing except the wail of disaster?
Have you ever trek along mountain ranges without thinking any risk after a false single step?
Have you ever experienced a shaky train ride and passed fenceless bridges?
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Like hurricane clouds deepen dead silent nights
like an eagle's eye hooking down the innocent preys
nobody can escape
even the furious terrorist fires
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Ilike to write poetry almost every hour of the day
because I am a poem myself

I cannot restrain my pen
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for the Filipino vocalist Arnel Penida

I can do nothing
but sing about it
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Earth is swallowing
her own soil
eating her own skin dust
biting tress
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