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.

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© Frances Margaret Rebollido 2018-2024

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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

Radschlägermarkt ^04.15
love note to ... spring ^03.09

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

a sarcastic drama written impromptu with a friend ^03.19

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

lessons from the first day of work at the microscope store ^09.15

salutations to the ghost of you ^07.30

boy of the cloud mountains ^07.27

edge of desire ^07.14

apathy = peace of mind ^07.14

dome of blue ^06.15
hermit confessions ^05.18

bitch from up north ^05.04

2010

a poem for my grieving grandmother ^12.22

infidelity ^05.09
keep the faith ^04.29

who left the lights on? ^04.27

2009

monologue ii ^11.01

monologue i ^11.01
if only ^10.31

pronounce your steps ^10.31

the price we pay ^10.28
please be safe ^10.26
bipolar ^10.20

2008

insomnia ^12.19

^{︎︎︎ texts index}

25 April 2024

tiny man to you

i wear on my face

an unshapely bag of flesh.
i didn't know it could get so heavy.

the proper smile and eyes
that i practiced
in the mirror this morning

do not come to me now.

i am fighting to not appear like i am

weeping with dry eyes in the train
but there is no mistaking this poverty of the soul.

my house now smells of the chicken

that is roasting in my oven

to celebrate you

like i told you.

my face gets warm from the shame

of only being true.

your birthday was already yesterday
and was the last i heard of you.