It’s raining in the Bay Area. The downpour comes and goes, rising and falling like crescendos to an invisible conductor. The Californian in me nods and thinks, “we need this.” The Filipino in me is cold, too cold (this, too, is arguably Californian as well considering what temperature I regard as “cold”). In the end, after all this inner monologue, I charge all my devices and pray that we don’t lose our power.
It’s in this weather that I long to be comfy. While at my day job, I plunked away, mask, jacket, scarf, and all, daydreaming of my blanket. I sat in my car during my lunch break and thought of pillows. I thought of the gusts flinging my hair around and how annoyingly accurate water droplets landed on my glasses. It’s also in this weather that I long to write.
I continue to be grateful for the virtual offerings of fellow creatives, as I recently joined another of Sophia Dahlin’s classes, Elemental Poetry: Earth Air Fire Water. Being a millennial, I feel that I was raised on elemental contemplations, especially with shows like The Last Airbender. And, as it was recently Lunar New Year, I think of other elements not normally mentioned, like wood and metal (especially since I and my partner respectively are these minor elements). And with the rain and its vigor, I thought of the water in me, my scorpio stellium, and felt it was entirely fitting that we discussed poems of water and air on a day that was particularly windy and rainy.
I wrote a poem in today’s class that wasn’t necessarily about water itself. Rather, I tried to use water to talk about a house. A house where, I have this memory, that’s now separated by twenty-six years. It’s not necessarily getting older that scares me, but it’s the distance between things, and people, now gone that sit in me like a stone.
So, this little work in progress, is a portrait: imagine a child eating hot sinigang in the kitchen with their parents and Lola. Their mother works swing shift, so she’s still home. Their father works night shift, so he’s still home. This is why lunch time is the best time. And this child is allowed to go home for lunch and eat with their family. And while the rain poured outside, there remained a bustle and movement inside. Lola cooking and serving. Mom and Dad laughing and talking. Were my siblings there yet? These are the patches that we can’t help but have. Was there an uncle living with us yet? Or was it another lola? Was it an auntie? This scene standing still while time still swirling behind and all around it. This was lunch at the Cathay house.
Lunch at the Cathay House When It Rains
Plop into plastic bucket
Plop the black stain on the ceiling
Plop the four sinks
Plop the two kitchens
Plop the hidden bathroom (sacred hiding place from chores & trouble)
Plop Goku, plop Aurora, specifically her dress of pink and sparkle
Plop a little sister, then a little brother
Plop all the cats and the dog yearning for the moon
Plop the dark
Plop the sun and how it hits the brown walls and leads your eyes to Jesus
Plop Jesus and his eyes
His dark, upturned eyes
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