Mr. Jesus Diaz Llorico hails from the beautiful province of Iloilo, Philippines. He was a former member of the Police Force in his hometown for a couple years and later on joined the Bureau of Fire Protection wherein he was assigned in several parts of the Visayas. He then decided to go abroad and work for 22 years in the Kingdom of Saudi Arabia and is now connected with the Prince Sultan Airbase in Al kharj. He is a regular contributor of the PANAY NEWS, a daily newspaper in the Visayas and the KABAYAN WEEKLY, one of the leading weekly newspaper in the United Arab Emirates. Working abroad, away from his native land and loved ones, it is in writing poetry that Jesus finds comfort in times of solitude in a foreign land.
I hate the self-immolation of orange sex. Weather was leaving blue strings on the skin. Redemption was incomplete by sharing the legs Lips will not knead the ears. Like wakng in darkness for a passage to grief. Black moon will
skeletal bones in the hidden residue to escape with its fashionable decorum hidden inside there is a map a scroll to tell us where is the buried treasure turn right on interpass twelve quick left passed the brook under an
A volcanic kiss was becoming ungreen. The shark was coming. All night it was raining. The sap was rising and love-farm was deluged. A blue moon walks on the dry eyes. Why the tears had gone to exile? A mole
The dark clouds are rolling in quickly, wild wind blows fast and fiercely Many leaves and twigs start twirling around and circling Feeling like Edgar Allen Poe, In the distance I can hear some echo’s Of many dog’s barking in
Pillage started, when there were anti-answers. The trapped light- wanted to be released, from brutalism. When you were nearly drowned, in the multitude of questions, joining the palms, you collect the moments of solitude. You drop a key in the