albert b. casuga
Biography of albert b. casuga
A Philippine-born Canadian academic and writer, Albert B. Casuga has worked as a journalist, teacher, and college/university professor, and civil servant. He has recently retired after serving his region's school board in Ontario, Canada for nine years. His works are mostly in poetry, and has won poetry and fiction awards in the Philippines, Canada, and the United States. His books include fiction, literary criticism and theory, textbooks on the humanities (art appreciation and literary survey courses) , journalism, and public speaking.
albert b. casuga's Works:
His poems are published in the following publications: A Theory of Echoes and Other Poems, (UST Publishing House, Manila 2009) , Narra Poems and Others (Manila) , Still Points (Manila) , In a Sparrow's Time (Canada) , Songs for My Children (Canada) , Selected Poems (2007, Canada) . (Literary Theory and Criticism - The Aesthetics of Literature (De La Salle University, Manila) : Man in Search of Meaning: Literature (De La Salle U, Manila) , Man and His Literary Past: The Classical Tradition (De La Salle U, Manila) , Philippine Poetry from Jose Garcia Villa to Jose Lacaba (Manila, De La Salle U) , Summer Suns (short stories, University of Santo Tomas Press)
albert b. casuga Poems
Dawn is red on this ruddy face Sun dogging his craggy trail, The song deep in his throat:
Where blends the cane leaves with mist and rain Blends the shadow and the movement, Each defining courage from fear, fear from pain.
Studies For Poetry
A poem must be magical as a seagull. - Jose Garcia Villa, Selected Poems and New
A Theory Of Echoes
1. Axiom Echoes shape corridors lean Leaving them a cipher’s silence
Zero Point: Am Here
Am here where nothing is everything, where the stillpoint of our exploration is exploring beginnings turned into navel gazing. Where am I?
-A nun cleans Bacalzo's bone statues at the altar. Pallor on the bone of Bacalzo Becomes an afternoon heat like this –
Once Upon A Summer Solstice
(For Francisco F. Casuga+) There is a scampering of grace in the dry woods and a pulse upon some soliloquy:
Tanqui’s supreme conceit is its dread Of withering grass in the month of the frogs When rain, like fingers in the night, tread The lesions gangrened on a hillock’s carrion,
1. Halfway, between this river stone and many rocks after, Nara shall have gone from our echoes-call.
A River's Rush
It is the river as mother to the sea Entraps us into this womblike feeling of ease; It is the river draws us to this discovery Of need, our quiet helplessness.
Love In The Butterlfy Garden
- The female carries the male butterfly on her back while they reproduce, and then the female eats the male while waiting for the pupa to become another butterfly, and then she dies shortly after. - Bohol Butterfly Farm Guide Felix. 1. How a butterfly farm can turn an upside down imitation of life,
Still points are there where you want them still – not in earth, water, fire, nor air. Lust as death to Rev. Fernández dictum,
A Circle's Cipher
“Man on the Moon! ”-BBC Dread is all there is to look for: all fears found all found fearful
A circle’s cipher shapes the sound of dreams; it is the sound supplants what fury blood has built. The House of Tao Te Ching makes shadows of us all:
Where blends the cane leaves with mist and rain
Blends the shadow and the movement,
Each defining courage from fear, fear from pain.
“It is the touch of skin or harsh point of crag
Makes the warrior brother to the rock,
It is crag offers the question between life and slug.”
The stillness between the lads numb with song