A poet in the family

Virgilio Tampo, Diday's partner, is a poet by heart. Behind his laconic facade, Vir is a person of varied intense emotions eloquently expressed in the words of his poignant poems he only finds time to compose in the stillness of the night.
We culled this poem from his collection of verses as his contribution to our newsletter.

Gama
(a memory of a place)

Running my fingers through your hair
And tipping your brow.
I only hear the river murmurs,
The parallel of waters cascading
Rhymes with the throbbing beat
Of this sobbing heart
Though silent as it was lonesome
Birds sing a melody unrehearsed
To a drifting leaf, dancing
And receding upon my sight
Foretelling the coming of fall
On early summer.
Should I call this day mine?
The hills, the proud breasts of Kanlaon
I quivered of your avowal.
Should I say, I love you,
And be released?
What arrow doesn't point their poison of mercy
And forks at me.
This incidental get away
Of February's last heat
And days that recedes
Perhaps in parody of pursuit
For long-gone yesterdays
Days when I was young
The last nerve gasp for guts
I am beyond my written ode,
I am beyond the lamentations
Of somnambulistic
Sleepless nights.

- Feb. 28, 1981