Justine Camacho Tajonera

Rookie (Jan.23,1975 / Cebu City)

Justine Camacho Tajonera Poems

1. I Have Met Rome 2/10/2005
2. Waiting 10/28/2005
3. What Ditas Left 3/3/2006
4. Badger And The Jazz Musicians 9/9/2009
5. This Space 9/9/2009
6. Two Hours Early 9/9/2009
7. Gift 9/9/2009
8. Sifting Sand As Meditation 9/9/2009
9. Standing In Line 9/9/2009
10. Saying Grace At Palaisdaan 9/9/2009
11. Looking Forward To Wine 9/9/2009
12. Walking Sparta 9/10/2009
13. First Words 9/10/2009
14. It's Her Birthday Again 9/10/2009
15. Celebrating Raksha Bandhan 9/10/2009
16. The House That Jesus And Florliza Built 9/10/2009
17. Homecoming 9/10/2009
18. Mother's Day 9/10/2009
19. At Katibawasan 10/8/2004
20. Picking Up A White Feather At Valbonne 2/10/2005
21. Morning Sun 9/10/2009
22. Hidden Light 9/9/2009
23. Joining The Diaspora 2/1/2006
24. October 28 9/24/2004
25. Kay Gat Andres Bonifacio Mula Sa Isang Hudas 3/8/2005
26. The Leaf 9/9/2009
27. Afternoon Naps 9/9/2009
28. Last Day 9/9/2009
29. Floating On Batis Aramin 9/9/2009
30. Seven Years Later, Driving Home 9/24/2004
31. At The Rue De La Bucherie 2/10/2005
32. Higher Things 8/26/2007
33. A Filipino Writer Of English Poems To A Filipino Writer Of Spanish Poems 10/8/2004

Comments about Justine Camacho Tajonera

  • sweet tulabing (1/19/2019 8:00:00 AM)

    wala yamu dre.hahaha

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  • Mayazhagu Guhan (3/12/2007 9:22:00 PM)

    Every thing is nice

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Best Poem of Justine Camacho Tajonera

At The Rue De La Bucherie

The man I asked for directions did not know how
to explain it to me
but he smiled, took my hand
and showed me the way.
Voila! He said, when we got there.
I saw an unexpected view of the Notre Dame.
Entering the bookstore I was looking for,
a moment of bewilderment.
But only for a moment.
The books did not weigh me down or
give me flight.
A few titles illuminated.
Only one or two.
And I knew my journey was complete.
If you know what you are looking for,
the alleys, shelves and strangers
will take your hand and
lead the way.
Everything ...

Read the full of At The Rue De La Bucherie

Waiting

The sound you make
is fainter than the sound
of rain softly falling outside
our windows.

I turn inwards
just to listen.

I cannot imagine yet

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