Jonel Abellanosa Handles Snakes, Star Apples, Moon's Glow, And Venom

King Cobra

And where do I bring this smell

Of reticence, this O of olfactory

Greenness? The wind knows

How I linger, the ways I dwell

In what I might be forced to remember.

The wind always tosses the shapeliest

Fruit, most of the time mango or starapple,

Teasing my nose to inhale the circulars.

I bring my crudest ways

Of recall to the violets.

It sometimes disappoints,

But often makes me realize

I’m a monarch without a kingdom.

Coral Snake

And how do I keep myself hidden

In leaves when I smell the violets?

The rain lends its invitation

And I follow the smells of moss

And lichen. In the forest

Water, when it rises, often

Wears its royal robe of glimmers.

How convincing its argument

That if surfaces are glassy

Transparence is its depths.

I soak myself in the gurgling flow,

Out of my heart’s reticence

And into the moon’s glow.

Taipan

And if my reputation moves faster

Than the wind? You don’t know me.

I’m shyer than the bandicoot, living

Inland, invisible as the homeless man.

I prefer to be left alone, slithering

In abandoned moonlight. The floral

Wind balms my hunger, and I often

Spend the night hungry. Starlight

Is my nourishment, water my soothing

Prayer. They say my venom is the

Deadliest, but I don’t have to defend

Myself, until I’m driven into the corner

Where ignorance, prejudice and irrational,

Unfounded fear might mean

The end of my life.

Jonel Abellanosa resides in Cebu City, the Philippines.  His poetry has appeared in close to two hundred journals and anthologies including, Rattle, Anglican Theological Review, Poetry Kanto, Filipino-American Artist Directory, The McNeese Review and Marsh Hawk Review. Early in 2017 Alien Buddha Press published his third chapbook, “Meditations,” His latest poetry collection, “Songs from My Mind’s Tree” is forthcoming (Clare Songbirds Publishing House). He is a Pushcart Prize, Best of the Net and Dwarf Stars Award nominee.