Skip to content


kristian Jeff cortez agustin kjca kjcauniverse

As Yet Unwritten

When does poetry unfold?

Does it unfold the moment I lift my hand, lift a pen, let it drip, dip into ink, paper, water, wood, sand, stone

Does it unfold the moment your makeshift wand conjures one more universe

Does it unfold when the universe gives birth to another?

Does it unfold when that universe, the one after this, brings forth light in balls of breath spheres of dust, rings of fire?


And what unfolds when they erupt, explode?

Light? Dark? Matter?

Light! Dark! Stars!

Does it unfold when magma moulds, mildew brings forth soil soaking under the moonlight when the tide comes 
and goes over, under
under, over
pushing, pulling,
in, out, push, pull,
over, in, grind, out,
under, push, in
pull, out, over, 
under, ground.

Does it unfold when a child is born, one, two, three, four, five, six, seven, eight, nine million bodies and souls

Does it unfold when a child is born once, twice, thrice, out of pulling and pushing universes, celestial bodies, forces unknown
high over the clouds
deep under water
in one womb
out of reach
short of air, breath, words

Does poetry unfold when you lift your hand, lift your pen, let it drip, seep into paper, wood, roots, soil, earth, planet, sun, stars, galaxies, universes, verses, words as yet unwritten on paper, wood, metal, glass, sand, stone, memory?

How does poetry unfold?

Performance/Installation (GSIS Museum of Art, 2014)