Felino A. Soriano - from This How My Speaking Moves

Touch Sound Philosophy

                   Chordal

         passion          pianoing into

the trumpet of my good hand’s attempt

at becoming translucent in behavior.

This duo of fathom:

two windows

two wisdoms

      :  mirrors into devotion I’ve

for my familial connection in teaching

my voice to move through a darkened

application of night’s ongoing streak of

achromatic monotony

***

Toward What it means to Never Misremember my Daughter

                                                                                                 --for Mia

From the intent of what my

spirit clarifies

                    which it means to dissolve histories or

 how hands crush bone with stronger bone

    into the voice’s uncertain meander

to search within a darkness’ unopened

 memory.

Through the language of my family’s silence

their saying: do not die within the spectrum

of cancer’s predetermined timeline--

*** 

__________

my own silence answers

    with the wish of ongoing

impetus           to visualize my

 daughter’s

   smallness ignite toward

an even more accurate

     rendition of what my

mirror communicates in the

 acute language of solidified

                     physiognomy

__________

***

In Knowing What Prophecy Removes

Vanished.

   Vacuum

philosophy.

                    Vacant as

     the vertical

-ity of the body’s

    breathing

slowed through miles and more so callings to

congregate beneath trees amid flesh and leaves’

unintentional desperation to tumble.

    Groups

of us follow timeline

       visual cues: watching

     as crows rest upon single branch

  ratios, fair toward their unknowing

much more exists beyond how the talons

   grip with force to confirm rest

prior to absconding

like the death some of us will

 inherit

 ***

Silence When Thought Overwhelms

          And when avalanches

respell a dedicated dialogue

                                                 among

       my best tongue’s version

                              of

reenacting happiness:

***

__________

youth is the timeframe,

   far     not within the spectrum of distance,

 a burgeon becoming a version of self,

         how my language began its form

-ulation into pensive syllables

obtaining ornamental diagrams, oblong doors

misshapen to open for the oddities of

dispositional interpretations

__________

***

No, When Needed

  Or

 when the spasm of

      aloneness scrapes the mouth’s

  roof

         freeing a spatial pain from

seeing the last breath twirl and evaporate