Mark Dimaisip

In the Philippines, we jump over puddles after a typhoon. We gather clay from volcanic ash, making shapes that make sense. After the earth rumbles, we run to the wreckage, make do with the broken and assemble something whole.

My poem, Warped Words, in a "new" layout by @morning_migraine. DM me for the zine! It's only 100. #poetry #micropoetry #altlit

DM me for copies! 100/each #poetry #zine

my poem, Asymptotes, in Loudmouth Collectives new zine Surviva Vol2 #poetry #micropoetry

full poem here https://youtu.be/EywvsERndhE #poetry #typography #animation

full poem here http://dimaisip.tumblr.com/post/78434506187/our-call #poetry #spokenword

an excerpt from my poem "Sun-kissed, Windswept, Weather-beaten" published in Bukambibig link http://issue.com/bukambibigph/docs/bukambibig_0103 #poetry #spokenword #disasters

an excerpt from my poem "Sun-kissed, Windswept, Weather-beaten" published in Bukambibig link http://issue.com/bukambibigph/docs/bukambibig_0103 #poetry #spokenword #disasters

an excerpt from my poem "Sun-kissed, Windswept, Weather-beaten" published in Bukambibig link http://issue.com/bukambibigph/docs/bukambibig_0103 #poetry #spokenword #disasters

one way #poetry #photography

today's drafts, tomorrow's poems

dolled up for manila polo club #flashbackfriday #poetry #spokenword

Every day of last week, she transformed him. Monday, he was ten -eyed and octopedal. Tuesday, he had three mustaches, two of which were across each cheek. Wednesday put lips between his eyes, while Thursday gave him six more arms. Friday, he had hands in place of eyebrows and a foot in place of a nose. Saturday reduced him to nothing but all ears. And Sunday, she wore a blindfold and played pin the body part on his blank potato face. Every day of each week, she puts him together: mixing and matching fractions of him— never hesitating to take out everything whenever they needed to start over again in a clean slate. What they have is a love that is true: She loves that he has removable parts. He loves that she doesn’t have to accept him as a whole.

I've been to several LGBTQIA themed poetry shows last year, and I've always started my set with "the advantage of being a gay poet is you get booked a lot on pride month". While I wrote this specifically for Rainbow Jam, I've performed this at every event that I was in in June 2016. And since I'm for revisiting the past lately, in a few months I'll be doing a slightly revised version of Thinking Straight. #PoemsWrittenForSpecificEvents #RainbowJam

Along with Mother Tongue, this piece is one of those that I've written but abandoned after performing it for two or three times. It was the peak of spoken word hype in 2015 and I've been feeling that I wasn't producing good enough work. It wasn't until I revisited this poem for a workshop a few weeks back when I realized it was just me who didn't like it. Funny how we are our own worst critics. #PoemsWrittenForSpecificEvents #AlabPresentsLaya

I've been feeling very nostalgic lately. Many spoken word artists who started around the time that I started (late 2014, early 2015) are either retiring or on hiatus, and these big events, like Intramuros Rising, reminds me how it was like before: no pressure to be recognized, to turn art into a profession or monetize your work. It was just pure, unbridled, joyous creation and appreciation of the thing we love together: poetry. #PoemsWrittenForSpecificEvents #Intramuros Rising