Barros, Ma. Lorena M.

Seventy-seven demands

some trifling, some

deep and huge.

But all inarticulate

the glottals of the dumb


Somewhere back

We had forgotten speech

the correspondence of

sense of utterance. Now




We march back and forth

mouths working

We know that the evil is great

but cannot begin to speak it.


“Two picketers climbed up the

monument of the Tao and veiled

it with black cloth to symbolize

the death of academic freedom

in the campus.”


Our still born gods

We bury with dumb gestures.

Oh we are unable to speak it!

We cannot begin to speak it.


Smashed glass


a drop of blood on the asphalt

two drops


the red seeps through our blindness


We have cast,

the first rock.


– Ma. Lorena Barros

Phil. Collegian, July 31, l969

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