Skip to main content

Who I Found at Tampa's #awp2018: Installment #1

It's April, National Poetry Month, and I thought I'd dedicate my next posts to reviewing a couple Asian-American writers and other poets whose works I've discovered this past 2018 AWWP (Association of Writers & Writers Program).

It was my first time ever attending the event and because this time for once, it actually convened in my area, therefore, had no excuse but to attend at least one day.  I was overwhelmed, swirling, like a kid in a candy store for I was surrounded by books and my artsy fartsy tribe!

I got a chance to run into the women at the Sundress Publication's table.  One of my poems have appeared in their earliest online magazine back in the late '90s.  While there, I  stumbled upon the work of Jim Warner, entitled "Actual Miles" published by Sundress Publications.  He's a Filipino-American poet.  How do I know?  Well, when I was thumbing through the pages, his poem "subic bay" jumped out at me.

Jim Warner's "Actual Miles"

subic bay

open crucifex arms.

just plastic couch covers--shag carpets. Avocado

horizon swallows sound.

a swirling panic spirals, twister'd Olongapo
streets hold one hand over the slum alley'd, thumb
over full cisterns.

Unlearning the story of rotting mangoes,

multo is the word for ghost; not forget.

From the fire escape, shoulders lengthen against

oxidized steel--stretched and confessed like creeper
vines browning in droughted heat.

No crowns, just crows. No kings,

just King James in Tagalog.

Unravel neighborhood fabric

suturing through native tongues;
these gentrified orphans leave scars.


This is a poem, a poem I can relate to and Jim Warner, a poet I can identify with.  I did not meet him or know him, but from what I gather he may have been a military child, of mixed race: Filipino/American, like me.  I have been to Subic Bay, the U.S. Naval Base, and my dad was stationed at Clark Air Force Base by Angeles City where both, outside their gates, were lined with drunk G.I.s and brothels.  Therefore, Filipino slums outside U.S. military bases were pretty much the same all over the Philippines.  I wrote a similar poem about Angeles City and of my mixed race origin in my poem "Mango Man".

There were other poems in this collection such as "rice farmer"...although my mother's family were fishermen, going anywhere in rural Philippines echoes these images he conjures up so well:

       "poor drink and poor forget.

Hands harden when bolo-less
soften with cheap boozy grace.
       Poor drink and poor forget
troubles and empty pockets
soften with cheap boozy grace,..."

A similar theme about my mother's fishermen family, of poverty-stricken drunken uncles and fragile aunts, in my poem "At Low Tide".

Tim Warner's "Actual Miles" is like a coming home for me.  We share the Philippines and the U.S. as we morph from one culture to the next with poetry and writing as our vehicle for expression to connect the worlds.  It is lyrical, heavy, and tugs at you to go many directions like the narrow alleyways of Olongapo.

You can order his book here:

Sundress Publications interviews Jim Warner:


Popular posts from this blog

Eileen Lives with Art

Eileen Tabios, my long time poet/writer friend, wrote about my art I had given to her a while back in her blog:  

Eileen Lives with Art

Episode 13: Gregory Phillips

This episode takes us to Los Angeles where I got a chance to talk to Dr. Gregory Phillips.  It was his exquisite photography that caught my eye and prompted me to reach out him.  You will be amazed, just as I was, when I learned he has lived a rich life and the courage it took for him to stand for his conviction as an artist with a vision.

Dr. Gregory Phillips is a former English professor, who six years ago decided to leave teaching and pursue his life as an artist. He was living and teaching in Minnesota and woke up one cold, winter day and decided to move to Los Angeles to chase his dream to be an actor. That summer, he packed his car and headed west. It was the best decision he's ever made, he said. He's also a writer and photographer. In terms of his photography, it started as a hobby, some fifteen years ago. Shortly after starting, it became clear that he has an eye. Photography for him is a way to document the things he sees. When …

Mountains Like Water Buffaloes

This flash fiction by Cristina Querrer was originally published in The Milo Review.

Mount Pinatubo jutted its colossal body above the jungle, vacantly looking down and snorting at the mortals in hedonistic Angeles City, Philippines. Passengers in a jeepney witnessed a bar girl running topless down the street, chasing after some overweight foreigner.
“Hoy, pogi, halika dito!” she shouted.
The Australian looked back at her smiling as he trotted along flattered by her pursuit.
Still, even in the ‘80s, strings of them lined up and down prostitute alley, these exotic gems of South China Sea, as the men liked to call them. Some leaned in the door frames of their establishments in their stacked heels and hot pants, some smoking a cigarette, some not. A Filipina teenager—a bar girl—sat on a GI‘s lap at a table outside one of the cabarets. Silhouettes of naked women danced in front of windows; discos’ bright neon lights flashed above street vendors selling beer and barbecue be…