Frances MM Rebollido

desk
atlas WIP
texts
lens
illus. WIP
mood cinema

View all experimental-visual experiences of some of my writing, in a continuous stack.












︎   ︎  ︎
© Frances Margaret Rebollido 2018-2025




2025


city of fire 01.04


2024


25082405 (wallpaper of...) 08.25
25082404 (...chamois) 08.25
25082403 (whose house) 08.25
25082402 (in a dream...) 08.25
25082401 (Kömorebi) 08.25
29062401 (ocean swirling ...) 06.29
29062403 (tripping under ...) 06.29
29062405 (where does love ...) 06.29
29062404 (dreaming on ...) 06.29
29062402 (memories of ...) 06.29
tiny man to you 04.25
Montmartre casualty 02.17


2023


light material 12.08
Your subliminal stories...  11.16
suffering from socks  11.16
a place above my shelf 10.21
i only felt good in the afternoon 10.21
bozocorp 01.23


2022


second life 08.28
ant visit 08.04
mantra 07.23
lens 04.24
season of depression 03.24
turning 30 01.22


2021


work flows 10.20
a time in my life 08.03
ocean thoughts 06.10
no dogs and a rainbow 05.23
malinao twilight 05.02
malinao sunrise walks 03.21
after a meditation, new in the island 02.19


2020


undelivered 12.18
sinker wave 05.29
life’s like that 05.29
white noise 05.29
the comedy of mania 05.29


2019


Howl derive 12.27
photographer 02.19
love letter to the sky while in tokyo 02.18


2018


of 2018 12.31
love spelt itself out 11.10
accountability, dead watson 11.10
a line 10.28
ang tindera maldita 07.01
pain, pain 02.19
shibuya 02.05


2017


little maddening 12.11
self coaching 12.10
daze for days 11.26
inbetween 11.19
cool electric 11.06
heavy nights 10.29
A. Lopez street 10.23
sigarilyo sa kadlawn 10.21
It took five pages 10.08
it’s temporary 10.05
progress report 10.02
clouds for mountains 09.26
monster 09.19
moving on 09.08
cloud 08.28
i am realizing that 08.25
breather 08.21
mean drugs 08.18
funk on some esum 08.14
allusions to a diary 08.14
punctuation 08.06
amber waves (an ode to beer) 07.29
watching planes 07.02
dire nights 06.18
change by loss 06.07
good work 05.22
asleep, most lovable 02.14
cheers darlin’ 02.14

2016


sweater in a dream 11.04
baby driver 11.04
i‘m writing 08.16
blond I-III 08.08
drunk on the moon 06.18
oyster or hell 06.17
the peaks and the folds 06.13
coltrane’s after the rain 06.12

2015


there is rain behind 08.04
between flesh 04.16
flakes of burning 04.16
family prayer before meal 03.12

2014


thunderstorms 10.01
for the taking 09.20
smoke around 08.15
radiohead 08.06

2013


oh woman 03.23

2012


suppress 10.23
perks 08.17
Life 08.03
moving colors 06.27
no rhymes 06.09
beads of light 05.25
soliloquy 05.25
hunger dreams 04.30
white steed 04.12
condition your mind 02.27
time 02.20
Home 02.18
as i read the house of leaves 02.12
cracked 01.27
a litter of metaphors 01.24
!cutter 01.24
here’s how 01.13
a note on style 01.10
about Facebook 01.08
feet on my hands 01.06

2011


on technology 12.30
red tape 12.30
!ideation 11.02
edge of desire 07.14
dome of blue 06.15
hermit confessions 05.18
infidelity 05.09
keep the faith 04.29

2009


monologue i 11.01
if only 10.31
the price we pay 10.28
please be safe 10.26
bipolar 10.20




4 January 2025


city of fire


prologue.

    we were crossing some
    bridge and you remembered this
    was your City of Lights.

    the moon was full
    and the sky was glass.


I. 
    the eyes always
    see the fire
    first; your wore yours
    red and mine
    long.

    i imagined we locked
    eyes for a second and my
    heart paused until we
    gasped hello.


II.
    frankly i don’t
    remember the lights (even as
    they jumped at our feet) as
    much as the flash of
    chestnut in your eyes.

    it might as well be
    called the City of Rain.   
    but i don’t remember the water
    beading on our hair
    as much as our hands
    taking the place of
    the other; do you know what
    i’m talking about?

    i’m talking about
    your umbrella that flew like
    a broken bird in the
    wind and i laughed more
    than you did.

    i even forgot the winter!
    yet not the black flapping
    of your coat as you
    waved your wrists mumbling
    “cold”, while you didn’t
    appear so.

III.
    i don’t remember the words
    as much as the
    water in your eyes.
  
   tell me i said goodbye;
   i had run off in a daze.


epilogue.

    does the winter ever
    get to you? and why does it
    always stay with me;
    i see the years replay itself.