LA M U LA

TU NILA
MAY
Readings
fro m Thre e Fi l i p i no Po ets

MARVIN B. ACERON
NOEL DEL PRADO
EMMANUEL QUINTOS VELASCO
With Special Participation of
DR. LUISA A. IGLORIA
Poet Laureate of the Commonwealth of Virginia

October 23 I Washington D.C.

7:30 A.M. Manila time

Sponsored by the Filipino American Historical Society

in Washington DC in celebration of Filipino American
History Month
 R I G E
ELD .
AR V I N B
M
AC E R O N

1. Childhood

Tatay’s Lesson

2. Environment

How do you solve a problem like Regina?

3. COVID

Sayaw (Dance)
TULA MULA MAYNILA

4. Love

Meatless

5. Art/Literature

Why I write

2
Tatay’s Lesson

He asked me one morning 

as I rushed a paper for class
why I haven’t learned to type,
growing up in his shop 
with typewriters that arrived
missing letters, rigid strokes, 
that needed fixing
in a corner of his house in Pola, 
a town of bankers, lawyers, and clerks
who begged their babies 
jumped the line
for theirs were texts that needed to be set, 
filed in court, or sent far away.
He counted 
how many learned
from his machines
in the afternoons
learning rtyu’s to fghj’s
soon after they’re chasing the quick brown fox, 
the rhythm of clacks and bings 
replacing the staccatos in which a beginner starts,
That was thirty years ago
and Tatay left;
how would it fascinate him to know 
Liquid Paper is gone
with auto-correct?
Yet on a Macbook,
God bless his soul, I still worry 
about letters on the
Eldrige Marvin B. Aceron

screen neat and clean, and

regret, it might be late
to learn where the “z” is
without looking
a written word
on a moment’s thought
just by touching.

3
 How do you solve a problem
like Regina

who walks the talk, and

talks and walks some more
a privileged life she left
to do her yoga
and teach poor children
in the slums of Kenya
where the toilet was awful
and water was scarce;
but she saved some
to clean her undies?

You can’t fake 

that kind of life.
No you can’t.
No you can’t.

And then she came

to task big media
protect the
planet where we live,
a losing cause, for government
traded money for the mountain
and more money to let miners 
take what they can, do as they please.
But Regina she told miners
you’re going to die soon,
TULA MULA MAYNILA

what are you going to do with your money?

Yeah, what are you going to do with 
your money when you’re dead,
so 
very 
dead?

4
You can’t fake 
that kind of life.
No you can’t.
No you can’t.

Then Duterte put her on the spot

in the office where they steward
this part of the planet, and she
asked them to clap as she came
to shoo away the bad vibrations.
They tried to bribe her like the
ones before her — How do you bribe
the one who volunteered for life 
in Africa instead of Forbes? How do you
bribe a yogi? We have a puzzle you can’t solve. 
She’ll close the mines. She’ll cancel the contracts to protect our water, 
oh so very precious water getting scarce, 
leave some for your undies like Regina.

You can’t fake 

that kind of life.
No you can’t.
No you can’t.

How do you solve a problem like Regina?

”How do you hold a moonbeam in your hand?”
Eldrige Marvin B. Aceron

5
 Sayaw
May sayaw daw ang guru
tyak ang bisa sa salot.
‘Sang maiging balita
sa ‘ting nababahala.
Ngunit wala ng oras
na ito’y maensayo.
Sana’y nun pa naisip
sa pilantik lang pala
ng kamay at daliri
malalansi, Ginoong
Poon ng Kamatayan.
At sa kanyang harapan
tayo na di naghanda
makakahugot ba ng
alaala ng bayle?
May kumpas bang sarili?
May himig at panitik?
Baka naman sakali
ang pandango o cha-cha’y
sadya na maari?
Ay! Ating idalangin
Yun lang ay talinhaga
Iba ang ating guru
Iba rin ang tinuro
Sayaw ma’y di pareho.
Nawa’y maligtas tayo.
TULA MULA MAYNILA

4/6/2020

6
Dance
They say the teacher knew of a dance
A potent cure against the plague
A welcome news for us
Who are bothered.
But there is no time
For us to practice.
We should have thought about this before
That in the simple flick
Of hands and fingers
We can the trick the gentle
god of death
And before him
We who are not prepared,
can we pull out a
memory of a dance?
Would we have the rhythm?
Melody and lyrics?
Perhaps the Fandango or the cha-cha
Would suffice?
Oh! It is our prayer
That it is just a metaphor
For we have different teachers
Who taught different teachings
Our dances may be different
Eldrige Marvin B. Aceron

Let salvation be for all.

7
 Meatless

They say you become the

animal you like to eat.
I’m a pig then
nosing around the pen
happy to lie in the mud or wherever
always waiting for dinner
and the next meal after that
and the one after.
And you,
a chicken, 
forever pecking on the ground
looking for little things like worms
in your food, but if you’re a chicken,
the worm is your food, which
you hate like lizards.
And even if you’re just sitting there
you’re actually doing something
like guarding the chicks
or hatching eggs.
It seemed improbable 
that we’d end up together,
the slouch and the worker.
So, we decided to get married
TULA MULA MAYNILA

and now we’re vegetarians,

almost.

8
Why I write

They said the dead can’t write

And there is no internet in the afterlife
John Lennon’s soul once complained to a medium
That the genius songwriter that he was in the yonder
was a goner, having left his guitars, pens, and paper
in the portals of heaven and hell.
Poor James Joyce, 
having written in the smithy of his soul 
the so-called uncreated conscience of his race,
cannot come back to revise what he wrote 
or unwrite what he has writ.
The old man is dead, 
mute as marble.
So, this is my plan for life,
May it please Descartes,
I write therefore I am,
For there is an “I”
That writes 
still kicking and alive, 
a reason why living is 
better than dead.
Eldrige Marvin B. Aceron

9
 B. AC E RON
E MARVIN
ELDRIG

Marvin B. Aceron regards himself as a professional semiotician

who applies his knowledge in language and signs in his practice
as a lawyer, writer, and publisher. He once won a PHP 300
Million arbitration case for the state-owned Philippine Postal
Corporation, wrote fiction for the Philippines Graphic and
the defunct Katipunan Magazine of Berkeley, California, and
published the bestselling book, “Servant Leader: Leni Robredo,”
by Prof. Ed Garcia, edited by Danton Remoto. On August 2021,
TULA MULA MAYNILA

with the onset of the Covid 19 Brazilian variant forcing the

Philippines to a third lockdown, Marvin organized the San
Anselmo Press ECQ Poetry Challenge with 48 Filipino poets
writing a poem each day for 15 days. The project has amassed
submissions of more than a thousand poems, which Marvin plans
to publish as a memorial to those who died from Covid.

10
 NOEL
P R AD O
DE L
1. Childhood

Larong Bata (Childhood Games)

2. Environment

Rebolusyon (Revolution)

3.COVID

Ikalima, sa Kwarantina (Fifth, in Quarantine)

4. Love

Toast and Time (Tostadong Tinapay)

5. Art/Literature
Noel del Prado

Anonimo (Anonymous)

6. Extra

Alaala sa Dela Costa (Memories from Dela Costa)

11
 Larong Bata

Sa South Super Highway

saglit na sumilip ang araw sa kaliwa
kakaibang halo ng ginto at dugo
at sa kabila, asul ng payapang lawa.

Gising ka na kaya, ngunit nakahiga

sa iyong kubo, habang napahahaplos
sa araw ang iyong pisngi, nananatiling
nakasara ang gising mong mata?

Katulad ng laro natin noong tayo’y bata pa:

maaari kasing pumikit, at hating
dumilat sa loob ng talukap.

Kung ika’y nakapikit, gabi ang paligid

kung kaunti kang nakadilat sa loob
nasa pusod ka ng hinog na dalandan—

Kasing kulay nitong kalawakan ngayong umaga.

Noong umalis ako sa Katimugan

muli kong natagpuan itong larong
muntik nang malimutan.

Alam kong gising ka na ngayon

gusto kong isiping
nakatingala ka rin sa parehong bukang-liwayway.

Nakalimot man
sa dating laro sa mata,
maaari mo pa ring makita
TULA MULA MAYNILA

Ang mahiwagang kulay

mula sa puso ng dalandan
ang ginto at dugo sa kalawakan—

Habang sabay tayong nakadilat,

at habang nakasarado pa ang talukap
sa mata ng mundo.

12
Childhood Games

At the South Super Highway

the sun slipped at the left
with a different blend of gold and blood,
and on the other side, the blue of the lake

Are you awake, but still lying down

inside your hut, while letting the sun
touch your face, your eyes
kept shut but remain awake?

Like a game we used to play:

you close your eyes, looking
as if through closed eyelids.

If completely closed, night is all around

if you look from the inside
you are in the navel of a ripe dalandan—

This is the color of the sky this morning.

When I left the South

I rediscovered this game
that I almost forgot.
I know you are now awake
and I would like to think
that you are also looking up at the same sky.

Even if you have forgotten

the old eye games,
you can still see

The colors of wonder

from the heart of the dalandan
Noel del Prado

the gold and blood in the sky—

While our eyes are wide awake,

and while the lids are still shut
in the eye of the world.

13
 Rebolusyon Revolution

Ilang sandali pa In a few moments

at mapupuno ng gamugamo all of these islands
ang buong kapuluan: will be crawling with gamugamo:

Tag-ulan na at umuugong ang The rains have arrived and the
paligid sa libu-libong bulong ground trembles,
ng mga nahuhulog na insekto. from a thousand murmurs
of these fallen insects.
Walang makapagsasabi kung
saan sila itinatago ng lupa No one can say
sa mahabang tag-init. where the earth hides them
throughout the long summer days.
At sino ang makapagsasabi
kung saan sila dadalhin ng mga And who can say
pakpak nilang kay ninipis? how far they can go
with such fragile wings?
Hindi ba’t
naliligid tayo Are we not
ng dagat? all surrounded
by the sea?

Translation credit to award-winning poet Jim Pascual Agustin.

Gamugamo is the momentarily winged termite. The winged (or ‘alate’) caste,
also referred to as the reproductive caste, are generally the only termites with
well-developed eyes (although workers of some harvesting species do have
well-developed compound eyes, and, in other species, soldiers with eyes
occasionally appear). Termites on the path to becoming alates (going through
TULA MULA MAYNILA

incomplete metamorphosis) form a sub-caste in certain species of termites,

functioning as workers (‘pseudergates’) and also as potential supplementary
reproductives. Supplementaries have the ability to replace a dead primary
reproductive and, at least in some species, several are recruited once a
primary queen is lost. In areas with a distinct dry season, the alates leave the
nest in large swarms after the first good soaking rain of the rainy season.

14
Ikalima, sa Kwarantina
Paano ihahatid ang buwan
sa loob ng iyong kuwarto?

Katulad ng bintana
nakatutok ang isip
sa apat ng kanto ng langit
parihabang abot-tanaw

ng pagdungaw at paghihintay.

Nakatalungko sa kama
mabigat ang balikat at likod
humihigop ng malapot na hininga
mula sa malalim na balon

ng putik na hindi nakikita.

At sa ikalimang araw ng kwarantina

parisukat na ang lahat ng balintuna
ang walang hanggan, pilit na inaampat
sa apat ng sulok ng kwarto at isipan.

Agaw-anino sa loob ng mga dingding

pikit-dilat, nagbabaga ang mata at noo
napupuno ng alaala at pag-aalala,
nasasamid sa paghinga, at paubo

ang bunto ng hininga.

O anak, hindi ko maibulong

ang haplos ni Luna:

Ang buwan, hinuhuni sa tinig ng ina

oyaying sumusundo sa payapang tulog
at nag-iiwan ng diin ng kanyang yakap
Noel del Prado

sa maliliit na braso ng kanyang anak.

Ihahatid ang kalahating pilak

at kalahating puting busilak
tatawid sa gilid ng iyong pisngi
hanggang sa dulo ng iyong maliliit na daliri.

15
 Fifth, in Quarantine
How do I deliver the moon
inside your room?

Like the window

the mind is framed
in the four corners
of the sky, rectangular view

of looking out and waiting.

Crouched on the bed

back and shoulders heavy
strained supping
from a deep, deep well

of mired breath.

And on the fifth day of quarantine

all ironies are squared
forever is confined
cornered in my mind.

Scraping shadows off the walls

with lids open-shut, eyes are embers
searing through memories and fears
disjointed gasps, brittle breaths

breaking into a cough.

My child, I am unable to whisper
Luna’s embrace:

The moon, hummed in a mother’s voice

lullaby is the noise of peaceful sleep
leaves the impressions of her embrace
TULA MULA MAYNILA

in the soft arms of young children.

It will deliver half of the silver

and half of the immaculate white
to linger on the lines on your cheeks
unto the very tips of your small, small fingers.

16
Toast and Time
for Joanne

What they say

about marriage
is probably true.

It always gets worse, never better.

So we prepare for that one big fight,
through a lot of small ones.

But here comes a perfect Sunday.

No one can explain,

a quiet morning, with baby Ali
waking up late.

Throwing out the bath water, still warm

she settles in the warmth of your arms
for a second breastfeeding.

And she falls

fast asleep
without much crying.

We still have time for toast,

and time for sharing time
before Ali wakes up again.
We watch her,
and talk about how babies
silently grow in their dreams

We catch her smiles

and her pauses, eyes closed
melting our words and thoughts—
in a far away land.
Noel del Prado

While she’s here.

While she’s not here.

07 December 2003

17
 Tostadong Tinapay
para kay Joanne

Ang sinasabi nila

tungkol sa kasal
malamang ay totoo.

Laging palala, hindi bumubuti.

Naghahanda tayo para sa malaking away,
sa pagpapaka-dalubhasa sa maliliit.

Ngunit darating itong natatanging Linggo.

Walang paliwanag,
umagang tahimik, si Ali, ating sanggol
magigising nang tanghali.

Ibubuhos, ipinampaligong tubig, mainit pa

babalik siya sa init ng iyong braso
para sa pangalawang pagpapasuso.

At muling makatutulog
Mahuhulog sa himbing
walang gaanong iyakan.

May oras pa tayo, sa pagsasalo

sa tostadong tinapay, at pagsasalo sa sandali,
bago magising muli si Ali.
Panonoorin natin siya,
at magkukuro tayo, sa katahimikan
lumalaki ang mga sanggol

Mahuhuli natin ang kanyang ngiti

at ang minsang paghikbi, nakapikit pa ang mata
TULA MULA MAYNILA

tinutunaw ang ating mga salita at haka-haka—

sa lugar na napakalayo.

Habang siya’y naririto.

Habang siya’y wala rito.

07 Disyembre 2003

18
Anonimo
para kay Manet

Ngayon lamang kita nakita nang ganito

hindi kaharap, kundi katapat
sa kabila ng aking mga salita.

Nakaupo ako rito, at nariyan ka

nasa pagitan natin
itong papel na dingding

kung saan nakasulat ang tulang ito.

At maaari kong ibulong sa iyo:

ako ang nagsusulat

ikaw ang nagbabasa

ako ang tinig

ikaw ang nakikinig

ako ang diwa

at ikaw ang Diwata.

Sapat na ito.

Kahit hindi sabay ang ating mga mata

sa pagtalunton sa mga taludtod
alam kong nagtatagpo rin sila.

Malayo man lagi ang panahon

ng aking pagsulat,
Noel del Prado

sa sandali ng iyong pagbasa

Sa pagitan,
umiihip ang amihan
ng pag-asa.

19
 Anonymous
for Manet

I just saw you

not in front, but across
on the other side of my words.

I sit here, and you are there

and in between
stands this thin wall of paper

where this poem is written.

And I may whisper:

I write
and you read

I speak
and you listen

I am the persona
and you are the Muse.

This is enough.

Our eyes do not meet

even as we read the same lines
I know they will come together.
Even as I write these words
TULA MULA MAYNILA

in a different time, and

you read them on your own

In between,
hope breathes
like a distant gust of wind.

20
Alaala sa Dela Costa
Matagal na akong hindi umuuwi.
At hindi ko na alam ang pangalan
ng mga daang inukit mula sa tibagan
ng mga dating tahanan.

Hindi ko na kilala ang mukha
ng mga bagong gusaling umahon
sa mga loteng dating tiwangwang.

Ngunit natatandaan ko ang dating talahiban

Laging nasa likod natin, tuwing abala
tayong nag-uusap sa tabing daan.

At naroroon lamang.
Hindi ko man lamang napansin
noong mga hapong iyon
ang damuhang-ligaw sa likod natin.

Ngayon, para kong naaalala:

Nakikita ko ang likod nating dalawa

sa dulo nitong malagong talahiban
gintong kurtina sa paglubog ng araw.

Maluwalhati ang buong talahiban
umaalon sa hangin, waring watawat
sinasakop ang buong langit.

Walang ibang kapangyarihang
hihigit pa sa paglisan
Noel del Prado

sa lupain ng alaala.

At ang iyong mukha

ang tangi kong bayan.

21
 Memories from Dela Costa

It has been a while since I went home.

I do not remember the names
of the roads carved from the ruins
of the old row of houses.

I do not know the faces

of the new buildings rising
from what used to be vacant lots.

But I remember the old talahib field

always behind us, as we talk
by the side of the road.

And it was just there.

I did not even notice

during those same afternoons
the field of wild grass behind us.

Now, I seem to remember:

I can see our backs

at the edge of this dense talahiban
a golden curtain against the sunset.

The entire talahiban moving gloriously

as the wind waves it like a flag
through the length of the sky.
TULA MULA MAYNILA

There is no power
greater than leaving
this landscape of memory.

And your face

is my only country.

22
 L P R ADO
OEL D E
N

Noel del Prado is a poet, lawyer and teacher of Filipino Literature

and Law at the Ateneo de Manila University Loyola Schools. He
wrote a book of poems in Filipino and English titled, “Balat ng
Dagat”, which was published by Salimbayan Books in 1998. He
also wrote “Time Out Muna: Gabay sa Utang, Upa at iba pa sa
Panahon ng Pandemya”, a layman’s guide to navigating debts
Noel del Prado

and rents in the time of COVID-19, which was published by San

Anselmo Press in 2020.

23
 A N U E L
EM M
N TO S
QUI
A S C O
VEL
1. Childhood

Burrying Your Dog

2. Environment

Blue

3. COVID

Muling Pagkabuhay (Easter)

4. Love

Ang Pag-ibig, Anak (Love, My Child)

5. Art

Ikaw, sa Piling ng mga Orlina

(You, Among the Orlina)
Burying Your Dog

It is the easiest thing to do.

Finding your dog

one morning dead,
the leash limp around
its neck looking innocent—
an easy way to die.

You choose a corner

of the backyard,
a few feet from the compost pit,
and dig a hole
as deep as your shins,
as wide as your arms
half-stretched –
an easy grave to fill.

After the work,

tap the mound lightly
with your hands,
as the labandera walks by to hang
your newly washed socks, asking
“Ano yan?”
Emmanuel Quintos Velasco

“Aso ko.

Such an easy thing to say.

25
 Blue

It has been two years

since I last saw the sea.
Much too long for some,
but it’s just about
the right amount
of time for me
to start seeing blue
everywhere I look.
I open a book one morning.
and the word “sky” jumps out
of a sentence describing cirrus clouds.
A market vendor hollers
with mounds of fresh mud
crabs, wet shells gleaming
as they drop into weighing scales.
In the middle of the night,
I wake up dreaming of whales
swimming around me,
with white spots numerous
as the stars in heaven,
like mountains moving
to the heartbeat of a breeze.
This afternoon, after the rain,
I see you, in jeans
and a white blouse,
ready to go out of the house
TULA MULA MAYNILA

to shop for a new bathing suit

for when we get the chance
to leave the metro
again, after so long.

26
Muling Pagkabuhay
12Abril2020

Nilangaw na palabas
ang misa ngayong umaga
walang dumalong taumbayan,
takot magkahawahan.

Dugo at katawan
ng balita ang bayrus.
Marahil, ganito rin
sa pagbabalik ni Hesus.

Magmamakaawa
ang bawat nilalang
habang isinisigaw
ang bidang pangalan.

Samantala, kamatayan muna

para sa akin,
at sa ibang nakahilera
sa ospital at punerarya.

Limang linggo na akong

walang benta, walang bumibili
Emmanuel Quintos Velasco

ng dasalan, kandila,
at agimat na pulseras ng bata.

27
 Easter
12Abril2020

A show that flopped

is what the morning mass has become,
no townspeople came
for fear of infection.

The virus is the body

and blood of the latest news.
Probably, it will be similar
to when Jesus returns.

All manner of creatures

will beg for mercy
as they shout out
the lead actor’s name.

Meantime, it is death
for me
and for others in line
at hospitals and funeral homes.

It has been five weeks

since anyone bought my wares
TULA MULA MAYNILA

of prayer books, candles,

and magic charms for newborns.

28
Ang Pag-ibig, Anak

Ang pag-ibig, anak, ay damo,

tutubo kung saan nito gusto.
Hindi kailangan ng alaga,
lumalago nang kusa.

Ngunit minsan dapat supilin

upang di nito kamkamin
ang piling lugar na nakalaan
sa ibang bulaklak at halaman.

Tingnan mo, anak, halimbawa,

kaming iyong ama’t ina.
Mapanupil sa isa’t-isa,
hindi aral sa pag-aaruga.
Emmanuel Quintos Velasco

29
 Love, My Child

Love, my child, is like grass,

it grows where it wants.
It doesn’t need nurturing.
Left alone, it will flourish.

But at times, it needs cutting

to keep it from grabbing
spaces that are meant
for other flowers and plants.

Look at us, child, as examples,

your father and mother.
We cut each other so often
you’d think we don’t know how to care.
TULA MULA MAYNILA

30
Ikaw, sa Piling ng mga Orlina

Bumaling ka sa kaliwa
upang pagmasdan ang isang
parihabang babasagin,
maningning na lila
sa sikat ng pagod na araw
ngayong hapong tunay ang lamig
sa sulok na ito ng Tagaytay.

Isang munting kilos

at nagawa mong dalisayin,
tulad ng apoy, ang pag-unawa
sa salimuot ng mga bagay.

Makinis sa kamay, sigurado,

kahit hindi napatunayan
dahil bawal hawakan,
ang lahat ng makikita rito.

Subalit sumasabit sa mata

ang mga puyo ng pinsala sa loob,
mga hiwang ginawa, sinadya,
pampawi sa huwad na ginhawa
ng buhay na walang gana.

Aling obra ang hindi

Emmanuel Quintos Velasco

dinampian ng sugat?

Aling sugat, nang maghilom,

ang hindi naging alamat?

31
 You Among the Orlina

You veered left

to look at one
rectangular glass
shining violet
struck by a tired sun
this afternoon while the cold is biting
in this corner of Tagaytay.

In one small movement

you clarified,
as fire would, the meaning
of things complex.

Everything here is smooth,

though no one knows
for certain because they
are not to be touched.

But the swirls of damage

within baits the eye,
cuts made, cuts meant
take away the false ease
of a disinteresting life.

What masterpiece
is without wounds?
TULA MULA MAYNILA

What wounds, once healed,

failed to become legends?

32
 S V E LASCO
O
AN UE L QUINT
E M M

“Emmanuel Quintos Velasco began writing poetry while

attending college at the Ateneo de Manila University. Several
of his poems appeared in the school publication Heights. After
graduaton, however, he basically turned his back on writing.
Only after eighteen years would he again take an earnest look at
his works and try his luck with a publisher. His first book titled
“Dalawang Pulgada at Tubig” came out in 2011 courtesy of the
University of Sto. Tomas Publishing House. His second book titled
Emmanuel Quintos Velasco

“Mga Sugat ng Naligaw sa Gubat” came out in 2017 through the

Ateneo de Naga University Press. Both books were recognized
by the National Book Development Board - Manila Critics Circle
National Book Award. Emman is a ship management executive by
profession.”

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 A. I G LORIA
LUISA

Originally from Baguio, Luisa A. Igloria was appointed Poet

Laureate of the Commonwealth of Virginia (2020-22). The
Academy of American Poets awarded her one of 23 Poet Laureate
Fellowships in 2021, in support of public poetry projects. She is
one of 2 Co-Winners of the 2019 Crab Orchard Poetry Prize
for Maps for Migrants and Ghosts (Southern Illinois University
Press, fall 2020).

In April 2021, the Writers Union of the Philippines (UMPIL)

TULA MULA MAYNILA

conferred on her the Gawad Pambansang Alagad ni Balagtas

lifetime achievement award in the English poetry category. In
2015, she was the inaugural winner of the Resurgence Prize (UK),
the world’s first major award for ecopoetry, selected by former
UK Poet Laureate Sir Andrew Motion, Alice Oswald, and Jo
Shapcott. Former US Poet Laureate Natasha Trethewey selected
her chapbook What is Left of Wings, I Ask as the 2018 recipient

34
of the Center for the Book Arts Letterpress Poetry Chapbook Prize.
Other works include The Buddha Wonders if She is Having a Mid-
Life Crisis (Phoenicia Publishing, Montreal, 2018), Ode to the Heart
Smaller than a Pencil Eraser (2014 May Swenson Prize, Utah State
University Press), and 12 other books.

Her poems are widely published or appearing in national and

international anthologies, and print and online literary journals
including Orion, Shenandoah, Indiana Review, Crab Orchard
Review, Diode, Missouri Review, Rattle, Poetry East, Your
Impossible Voice, Poetry, Shanghai Literary Review, Cha, Hotel
Amerika, Spoon River Poetry Review, and others.

Luisa served as the inaugural Glasgow Visiting Writer in Residence

at Washington and Lee University in 2018. With over 30 years of
experience teaching literature and creative writing, Luisa also leads
workshops at The Muse Writers Center in Norfolk (and serves on
the Muse Board). She is a Louis I. Jaffe Professor and University
Professor of English and Creative Writing— teaching in the MFA
Creative Writing Program at Old Dominion University, which she
directed from 2009-2015. For over ten years to date, she has been
writing (at least) a poem a day.

www.luisaigloria.com

VAPoetLaureate2020
@poetslizard
Emmanuel Quintos Velasco

@ThePoetsLizard

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