Housewife (Poetry)

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Look at my closet

see the trinkets?

the things

my rings, the bling

and my appetite

for shoes

for thrills

for men who trawl

the intersections at 4

at dawn,

or when the moon

wets the skin

between my thighs


Look at my husband

a man

an object

thrice desired

emulated by the soldier

worshipped by the throng

by the God-man

who weeps for his soul


And look at me

the housewife

Plain Jane with an apron

and a miscarriage

on the way

–words by Teegee Villanueva


Voices (Poetry)


Do you hear me?

Crying alone in the wilderness

For my mother

For my mother’s mother

For her sister, her brother


My soul


Are you there?

Do you hear it? My voice

Can you hear it?

Lurching in the dark

Crowing and yearning

For nothing;

For it never meant anything

To anyone

But me


Poetry by Teegee Villanueva; Photography by Teegee Villanueva. Photographed at Bacolod City, Philippines.


The Boy

dumaguete city boulevard

“The Boy”, Dumaguete City. May 31, 2016. Photography by Teegee Villanueva.

“The summer sun was not meant for boys like me. Boys like me belonged to the rain.”–Benjamin Alire Saenz

I chanced upon this kid yesterday while taking pictures along the boulevard. He was alone, playing by himself, making sandcastles by himself, for himself. He was happy where he was, and he wasn’t like the other kids…he wanted to be alone, and this became obvious to me, when he shooed a group of kids away. And he reminded me of myself, not my youth, but my present predicament.

He reminded me of my loneliness.

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