JONATHAN AQUINO

JONATHAN AQUINO

SHIBUMI

A Zen garden

express the ineffable

that lies hidden.

It is true beauty,

as delicate as gossamer,

as real as a tree.

Deep silence is heard

that language cannot say,

yet too simple for words.

Behind what is true,

one finds simplicity.

Behind what is simple,

one sees its elegance.

That is shibumi.

THE DAY THE DANCERS SLEPT

I

The scent of cheap perfume

From the lonely man at the next table

Brought back forgotten scenes

As she stared at her steaming mug of coffee.

Thinking of lost souls

Wandering he dark alleys;

Everyday is the just the same

Goes the song in the old radio

In his insomniac canteen for taxi drivers,

Different lovers different names –

The story of her life.

It was just after Labor Day

In the year before the Millennium;

Another menthol cigarette she lighted

A treat for herself after a long solitary walk

Gazing at the pavement, thinking

Of the thousand who’ve passed this way

Not leaving even a footprint –

The story of our lives.

II

Once again she walked the city;

It was past midnight at the University Belt,

And for the first time she really looked at the derelict souls sleeping in he streets:

Some with children, too young to work

But old enough to beg. Mammon’s lot,

But the heart can only ache so much

And in the end, there’s nothing she can do

Not even Christ was saved from agony.

She tried to examine her life

But gave up, blinded by visions

Of screaming g darkness

Filled with guilt and torment

And unutterable emptiness.

After a while, an old man appeared,

Asking for the time,

Then asking for her name

And she gave a false one.

They spent a short time

Under an unspeaking lamppost

Then he offered some snack

And they went to Stoplight Bar

For ham sandwiches and beer;

Two lonely people, sharing intimacy,

Numbly, for while the flesh may rise,

The spirit remains trapped, doomed,

Forever sealed

In a forgotten tomb.

VIOLINS

I

The souls of ancient songwriters live on

Through their music, strains of nostalgia

gives the mind thoughts of noble sentiments,

Like the lingering scent

of a dead father's cologne

II

On a café a young man sits

On a table just for one

In silent contemplation

Over a cup of black coffee;

Meditating over the rising steam

Thinking

Of the lotus above a placid stream

In a Zen garden.

III

Outside, an old man takes a deep breath,

His dog his only companion;

The spirit of his beloved wife

Gazes without his knowledge

But still,

He finds comfort in the night.

JONATHAN AQUINO

JONATHAN AQUINO is the author of five books: Fisherboy, A Celebration of Life, The Way To Inner Peace, A Child of A Lesser God and Why The World Needs Heroes, all published by Smashwords. His poetry, stories, essays, and magazine articles have appeared in major publications. His radio plays have aired in DZRH. He is a Filipino whose native language is Tagalog and writes in both Tagalog and English. He lives in Cebu in the Philippines.