Just thinking aloud...

Another History

2012-02-25T05:22:00.002-08:00

I got a chance to read again.

Holy cow! I just realize while typing this that it’s been almost four months that I haven’t read nor write anything sensible.

(*think* *think* *think* *focus*)

Returning to what I was trying to say...

I got a chance to read again: Murakami, “Norwegian Wood”. It is an account-type of narration by the protagonist, very usual way of narrating but Murakami has this style of putting bizarre things into something reasonable that the reader will not find them odd. I don’t have any intention of analyzing his novel here. I just have this sudden urge to write something (…and dream that someday it will be my own masterpiece). Haha!

The protagonist, Watanabe, wrote his story so he would keep his promise to Naoko that he will not forget her. He was 35 years old when he wrote the story which happened 20 years ago. He wrote things from his memory when what happened were starting to fade.

So I decided to write until things are still fresh and vivid. I want to write those now that I can still feel the emotions clinging to it. I think it is a waste to write when the emotions become just a hollow sound inside you.

(*type* *type* *type* *backspace*)

But the problem is when your experiences are fresh – when everything is too sharp and clear – you can never even produce a line to start your story. So it is better to keep it that way. Let the things become memories. Let the feelings die away. Let your story becomes history. Then you can write.

Fog

2011-10-17T01:53:00.000-07:00

Fog

Reya Bato

Obscurity veils over the vast land

hiding the tangible before the eyes

it is an illusion, a master of disguise

confounding the mind into discordance.

17th October 2011

A lesson from the fog today:

When our vision is clouded and our mind is in a fog, do not make a move, bide the time, wait until the sun breaks through to see everything clearly and that will be the best time to act.

Lurking

2011-10-15T03:13:00.000-07:00

Lurking

Reya Bato

Lurking in the shadows

you are unaware of my chase

I trail your course

then watch you move

I stick around and wait

upon the moment you are

defenseless,

I will invade.#

15th October 2011

Tanka - Pour Honey

2011-09-11T01:12:00.001-07:00

Pour Honey

by Reya Bato

Old pages reviewed --

bygone days had been exposed

-- two crushed hearts found out.

Bitterness shrugged off anew,

it’s a forgotten old wound.

11-Sept-2011

Babala – Magsusuot Ako ng Lila Kung Ako Ay Lipas Na

2011-08-28T09:49:00.000-07:00

BABALA – MAGSUSUOT AKO NG LILA KUNG AKO’Y LIPAS NA
ni Reya Bato

(Salin sa Warning - When I Am an Old Woman I Shall Wear Purple ni Jenny Joseph)

Magsusuot ako ng lila
kung ako ay lipas na
may ternong sumbrerong
pula na baduy sa panlasa.

Sustento ay sa kandila,
guwantes at serbesa
mapupunta, at sasabihing,
wala ng pera para sa mantikilya.

Uupo sa aspalto kung hapo,
sasabsabin ang mga patikim,
at ang mga alarma ay pipindutin,
ang baston ay sa barindilya
padadaanin , at aking babawiin
ang mga ginawang pagtitimpi
sa nakalipas na sandali.

Sa ulan ay lalabas nang walang
tsinelas, pipitas ng mga bulaklak
sa hardin ng may hardin
at ang pagdura ay papraktisin.

Maari na ring kalimutan ang diyeta
at lumulon ng tatlong librang
longganisa o buong linggong
kumain ng tinapay at atsara.
May rason na rin para mangolekta
ng bolpen, lapis, mani,
at anik-anik sa kahita.

Ngunit sa ngayon, kailangan
munang maging huwaran
sa mga kabataan, manamit
ng kapita-pitagan, at magbasa
ng pahayagan, magbayad ng renta
at hindi magmura at maghanda
ng salo-salo sa mga kakilala.

Ngunit nararapat yatang
ako ay magsanay na
nang hindi na magtaka ang iba
kapag ako ay lipas na at suot ay lila.

28th August 2011

Original Text:

Warning - When I Am an Old Woman I Shall Wear Purple
By Jenny Joseph

When I am an old woman, I shall wear purple
with a red hat that doesn't go, and doesn't suit me.
And I shall spend my pension on brandy and summer gloves
and satin candles, and say we've no money for butter.
I shall sit down on the pavement when I am tired
and gobble up samples in shops and press alarm bells
and run my stick along the public railings
and make up for the sobriety of my youth.
I shall go out in my slippers in the rain
and pick the flowers in other people's gardens
and learn to spit.

You can wear terrible shirts and grow more fat
and eat three pounds of sausages at a go
or only bread and pickles for a week
and hoard pens and pencils and beer nuts and things in boxes.

But now we must have clothes that keep us dry
and pay our rent and not swear in the street
and set a good example for the children.
We must have friends to dinner and read the papers.
But maybe I ought to practice a little now?
So people who know me are not too shocked and surprised
When suddenly I am old, and start to wear purple.

On Silence: Stop Overtalking and Underthinking

2011-08-25T02:22:00.000-07:00

On Silence: Stop Overtalking and Underthinking
Reya Bato

One of my favorite fictitious characters in the world of novels is Clara del Valle Trueba, the clairvoyant daughter of Severo and Nivea. It is not her paranormal powers which roused my interest in her character but the idea that at the age of ten, she stopped speaking for nine years. How did she do that when in this noisy world, talking becomes one of the ways to acknowledge that a person really exists? There is a fear of silence in today’s generation. It seems that being silent is being oppressed. Everyone wants to be heard. Just look at the social networking sites, all are talking, worrying, giving their opinion, saying what they have done, what they own, what they are feeling, thinking or doing at the moment. Do they still have time to absorb what they had said?

I like to talk. I, too, am guilty of overtalking and underthinking. There are many situations when someone told me to stop talking and listen first. Many people have been hurt by my spontaneous talking and I experienced being in a soup because of my carelessness.

The Bible has a lot to say about keeping the mouth shut. One of them is Proverbs 21:23 - ‘Whoever keeps his mouth and his tongue keeps himself out of trouble’. It is likely impossible to speak a lot and not to hurt others, intentionally and unintentionally. The longer we talk, the more insensitive response, unkind word, and gossips we are having. Keeping our mouth and tongue can be used to lessen our vulnerability. The more we become silent, the less impulsive we become. Through silence, we can slow down, genuinely listen, and think. We can have a full awareness of the situation and handle it considerately.

Hush...

There are many things to say but the best way to summarize them is to remain silent, methinks. #

25th August 2010

On Yielding – Bend But Do Not Break

2011-08-14T03:49:00.000-07:00

On Yielding – Bend But Do Not Break

When I was I child, every time there was a storm in our province, I would always think of the story of the bamboo and the mango tree. There was a part in the story when there came a storm and the haughty mango tree stood proudly against the wind while the bamboo just bent his head and bowed to the wind. When the storm stopped, the mango tree was uprooted but the bamboo was still standing.

Circumstances really always reveal one’s spirit. How you respond to the circumstances that come to your life can either break you or make you strong.

Cliché but true, “the only permanent thing in life is change” ...which means that we have to change as well or we would be like the uprooted mango tree if we go against the wind of change. Be like the bamboo: bend but do not break. Sway harmoniously with the wind of change, do not fight against it. Be deeply rooted (to the will of God) yet flexible and yielding (to obey His will). #

(*Just a thought while walking in office corridor.*)

Reya Bato
14th August 2011
2:55 pm

The Rain

2011-06-13T04:48:00.000-07:00

The Rain
by Reya Bato

Huffs and puffs, puffs and huffs
the blowing is enough
gray clouds are nigh
darkening the sky.

Spatter, splatter of the rain
on my windowpane.
Slosh, splash, swash
the earth is washed.

Rumble, grumble,
the thunders growl
bar the windows
close the door.

Drops, drops, drops
the rain suddenly stops.
It's misty, it's foggy
outside it's soggy.

At last, the sun peeps
and timidly creeps
breaking through the gray sky
the earth is clear and dry.

© 13th June 2011

On Waiting

2011-06-08T02:09:00.000-07:00

08th June 2011

ON WAITING
R.E.B

Waiting is a lifelong career.

As a child, most of us had waited to grow old and enter school then waited to graduate and have a good job. Older, most waited to be married and once married, waited for a birth of a child, and so on and so forth. No one likes to wait but all life is a waiting.

In this busy world, life has taught us that to wait is to be powerless, to be controlled, immobile and helpless. People wait when they have no choice but to... wait. I, who am imprisoned in the miseries of waiting, also believe that waiting is a passive activity -- just watching around and accomplishing nothing.

Last week I was reading the Gospel of Luke which changed the way on how I looked at waiting:

Luke 25-26: Now there was a man in Jerusalem called Simeon, who was righteous and devout. He was waiting for the consolation of Israel, and the Holy Spirit was on him. It had been revealed to him by the Holy Spirit that he would not die before he had seen the Lord’s Messiah.

There was a man who spent his whole life waiting for his foresight to come true. Did he not get tired and become hopeless?

I think he did not. He patiently waited and devoted his life waiting wherefore he knew the day and the time when his dream would come true -- when Christ would arrive in the temple court. Certainly, he waited because there was no other choice but to wait. He wanted to see the Messiah before he died as revealed by the Holy Spirit so he held on to that promise. However, he never waited passively; he spent his days waiting striving to be righteous and devout. It was a pleasant, tingling wait -- his wait was as great as the actualization of his foresight.

Methinks, waiting can have an appetizing quality if one devotes those loathing time of waiting in a yielding and upright way. #

Reya

Curiosity of A Child

2011-05-18T04:30:00.000-07:00

Curiosity of A Child

Reya Bato

I thank God every time I rise
and get to open my eyes --
A day to discover new surprise
and chance to answer all my whys.

As I watch the bees and butterflies
suck nectar in the flowerbed nearby,
I spread my arms and try to fly.
Why can’t I reach the sky?

As I climb the tree
to look for a nest of little birdies,
I wish I can swing like monkeys
but with tail I will look so silly.

When night comes, I leap home like frog
or roll with my dog like log
then I crawl to my bed like a slug
it’s time to rest with the bed bugs

While lulling myself to sleep
I look at my window to have my last peep
I try to count all the dancing fireflies
then I kiss the moon goodnight.

© 18-May-2011

Tea Bag

2011-04-03T23:46:00.000-07:00

Tea Bag

by Reya Bato

I shall remember you

every time I put tea bag

in a hot-water-filled cup.

The rusty brown color

spreads quietly

like the passion

which consumes us.

Its aroma

awakens my senses

bringing me back

in that October night.

And as I sip its warmth,

its bitter-sweetness

revitalizes

the yearning

I have inside

to drink tea again

by your side.

04th April 2011

Kung Ako ay Lilimutin Mo

2011-02-14T01:11:00.000-08:00

Kung Ako ay Lilimutin Mo

ni Reya Bato

(salin sa 'If You Forget Me' ni Pablo Neruda)

Para kay R...

Hayaan mong ulitin ko

ang bagay na

malaon mo nang alam:

ang aninang ng abuhing buwan,

ang makupad na pag-usad

ng dilim sa labas,

ang pagkatibag ng abo

sa tuwi kong paghipo

o ang gaspang ng kahoy

na nakagatong sa apoy,

lahat ng iyon ay tinatangay

ako sa iyo, animong ang lahat:

ang samyo, ang liwanag,

ang mga metal, ay maliliit

na bangkang naglalayag

patungo sa iyong malilit

na pulo. Ngunit kung

unti-unti ang pag-ibig

mo sa akin ay mapawi,

sa puso ko ay hindi

ka na rin lalagi.

Kung sa isang iglap

ako ay iyong malimot,

huwag mo na akong hanapin pa

sapagkat limot na rin kita.

Kung iyong biglang maisip

na sadyang nakakainip

at nakakasira ng bait

ang paghihintay sa pag-ikit

ng aking buhay papalapit

sa iyo at magpas’ya ka

na ako ay iwan mo

sa pampang na aking pinagmulan,

iyong tandaan, sa oras na iyon

ay dahan-dahan kong ibibitaw

ang aking mga kamay

at lalayo sa iyo. Ngunit kung

sa bawat sandali ay walang

alinlangan mong maramdaman

na ikaw ay sa akin laan,

kung sa bawat araw

ako ang sanhi ng ngiti sa

iyong mga labi, ah aking mahal,

walang mawawala ni mapapawi,

ang pag-ibig ko ay muli’t muling

magniningas, sa mga bisig mo ako

ay hindi aalpas hanggang ang

pagmamahal mo ay hindi kumukupas.

14th February 2011

Original Text:

I want you to know

one thing.

You know how this is:

if I look

at the crystal moon, at the red branch

of the slow autumn at my window,

if I touch

near the fire

the impalpable ash

or the wrinkled body of the log,

everything carries me to you,

as if everything that exists,

aromas, light, metals,

were little boats

that sail

toward those isles of yours that wait for me.

Well, now,

if little by little you stop loving me

I shall stop loving you little by little.

If suddenly

you forget me

do not look for me,

for I shall already have forgotten you.

If you think it long and mad,

the wind of banners

that passes through my life,

and you decide

to leave me at the shore

of the heart where I have roots,

remember

that on that day,

at that hour,

I shall lift my arms

and my roots will set off

to seek another land.

But

if each day,

each hour,

you feel that you are destined for me

with implacable sweetness,

if each day a flower

climbs up to your lips to seek me,

ah my love, ah my own,

in me all that fire is repeated,

in me nothing is extinguished or forgotten,

my love feeds on your love, beloved,

and as long as you live it will be in your arms

without leaving mine.

Gaano Kita Kamahal

2010-12-23T00:52:00.000-08:00

Gaano Kita Kamahal?

(salin sa Sonnet 43: How Do I Love Thee

Elizabeth Barrett Browning)

ni Reya Bato

Gaano kita kamahal? Hayaan mong

ilahad ko ang mga paraan. Minamahal

kita sa lalim, lawak, at lawig

na kayang abutin ng kaluluwa,

kung ang kamalaya’y naglaho na

sa pagwawakas ng Pag-iral at minimithing

Pagpapala. Minamahal kita sa antas

ng pinakabanayad na pangangailangan

ng bawat araw, sa umaga ni sa gabi.

Minamahal kita nang malaya, tulad

ng pakikipagbatá sa Karapatan;

Minamahal kita nang dalisay gaya

ng pagbibigay puri sa Maykapal.

Minamahal kita kalakip ng sidhi

ng mga nakaraang pighati, kasama

ng aking mga pananamplataya sapul

nang pagkabata. Minamahal kita nang

may pag-ibig na tila aking naiwala,

minamahal kita sa bawat hininga, ngiti,

at luha! At kung Kanyang hihirangin,

ikaw ay lalo ko pang iibigin sa oras

na ang buhay ko ay pawiin.

22nd December 2010

Original Text

How do I love thee? Let me count the ways.

I love thee to the depth and breadth and height

My soul can reach, when feeling out of sight

For the ends of Being and ideal Grace.

I love thee to the level of everyday's

Most quiet need, by sun and candlelight.

I love thee freely, as men strive for Right;

I love thee purely, as they turn from Praise.

I love thee with the passion put to use

In my old griefs, and with my childhood's faith.

I love thee with a love I seemed to lose

With my lost saints,—I love thee with the breath,

Smiles, tears, of all my life!—and, if God choose,

I shall but love thee better after death.

Tonight I can write uncertain lines. Write for example,

2010-09-26T01:32:00.000-07:00

Tonight I can write uncertain lines. Write for example,

by Reya Bato

Under the gray sky

that is about to cry,

the lady

--whose heart

is rumbled

with thunder

and is ripped

by lightning--

hurries by

to keep herself dry. #

24th September 2010

A Prose Poetry: Mga Bagay na Hinahangad

2010-08-28T23:37:00.000-07:00

A Prose Poetry: Mga Bagay na Hinahangad (salin sa Desiderata)

ni Reya Bato

Ika-25 ng Agosto 2010; 9:52 pm

Mamuhay nang payapa sa gitna ng ingay at pagiging abala. Tandaan: May kapayapaan sa katahimikan. Hangga’t maaari, ipamalagi ang mabuting samahan sa sangkatauhan.

Ipahayag ang katotohanan nang payapa at malinaw; pakinggan ang iba, maging ang mapurol at mangmang ay may istorya. Mangilag sa taong maingay at palaaway. Pagkayamot ng kaluluwa ang dulot nila.

Huwag ihambing ang sarili sa iba, hatid nito ay yabang at pagdaramdam; pagka’t sa tuwina, may makakasalamuha kang mas mababa sa iyo o mas hihigit pa.

Ikalugod ang mga natamong tagumpay at mga nabuong plano. Manatiling interesado sa iyong trabaho, gaano man kababa; ito ay pag-aaring mananatili sa pabago-bagong pag-inog ng palad ng panahon.

Maging listo sa usaping pangnegosyo, sapagkat ang mundo ay puno ng panloloko. Ngunit huwag hayaan takpan nito ang mata mo sa kabutihan; maraming tao ang nagsisikap upang maging dakilang huwaran at kahit saanman ang buhay ay lipos ng kabayanihan.

Magpakatotoo. Huwag magkunwa ng pagsinta. Ni huwag maging mapang-uyam sa pagmamahal, pagka’t sa mukha ng pagkatigang at kabiguan, ito ay wangis ng damong nagtatagal. Unawain ang aral ng mga araw, madingal na ipahinuhod ang sigla ng kabataan.

Patatagin ang kalooban upang sa pagdating ng kasawian ito ang iyong magiging matibay na pananggalang. Iwasang mabagabag ng madidilim na sapantaha. Karamihan sa pangamba ay nagmumula sa kalungkutan at pagkapatâ.

Sa kabila ng kapaki-pakinabang na disiplina, maging mapagbigay sa iyong sarili. Ikaw ay anak ng santinakpan. Kaparis ng mga puno at mga bituin; ikaw din ay may karapatang mamalagi. Malinaw man sa iyo o hindi, walang alinlangang na ang santinakpan ay namumukadkad ayon sa nakasaad.

Kaya’t maging payapa sa piling ng Maykapal, sinuman Siya sa iyong kamalayan. Anuman ang iyong pagbabatâ at pagnanasa, maging sa ingay ng kaguluhan, ipanatili ang kapayaan sa iyong buhay. Sa gitna ng panlilinlang, pagkapagal, at mga nasirang mithiin, ang ating daigdig ay kaibig-ibig pa rin.

Magalak. Magsumikap maging masaya.#

Orihinal na Teksto:

Desiderata by Max Ehrmann

Go placidly amid the noise and haste,
and remember what peace there may be in silence.
As far as possible without surrender
be on good terms with all persons.
Speak your truth quietly and clearly;
and listen to others,
even the dull and the ignorant;
they too have their story.

Avoid loud and aggressive persons,
they are vexations to the spirit.
If you compare yourself with others,
you may become vain and bitter;
for always there will be greater and lesser persons than yourself.
Enjoy your achievements as well as your plans.

Keep interested in your own career, however humble;
it is a real possession in the changing fortunes of time.
Exercise caution in your business affairs;
for the world is full of trickery.
But let this not blind you to what virtue there is;
many persons strive for high ideals;
and everywhere life is full of heroism.

Be yourself.
Especially, do not feign affection.
Neither be cynical about love;
for in the face of all aridity and disenchantment
it is as perennial as the grass.

Take kindly the counsel of the years,
gracefully surrendering the things of youth.
Nurture strength of spirit to shield you in sudden misfortune.
But do not distress yourself with dark imaginings.
Many fears are born of fatigue and loneliness.
Beyond a wholesome discipline,
be gentle with yourself.

You are a child of the universe,
no less than the trees and the stars;
you have a right to be here.
And whether or not it is clear to you,
no doubt the universe is unfolding as it should.

Therefore be at peace with God,
whatever you conceive Him to be,
and whatever your labors and aspirations,
in the noisy confusion of life keep peace with your soul.

With all its sham, drudgery, and broken dreams,
it is still a beautiful world.
Be cheerful.
Strive to be happy.

Ang Isda (Halaw sa The Fish ni Elizabeth Bishop)

2010-08-08T05:40:00.001-07:00

Ang Isda (Halaw sa The Fish ni Elizabeth Bishop)
ni Reya Bato

Ika-7 ng Agosto 2010
03:47 PM

Mula buntot hanggang ulo
nakadikit ang mahahaba’t
makikitid na piraso
ng kanyang kayumangging
katad, katulad
ng lipas na pilas
ng papel na pandingding,
ang dibuho sa papel
ay kulay San Antonio:
hugis ng madungis na rosas
na namumukadkad, makupad
na pinapawi ng mahabang
sandali. May batik-batik
na mga taliptip, pinong
sabog-sabog na apog,
at pinamumugaran
ng maliliit at puting
kutong-dagat.
May gayak pa itong
dalawa o tatlong
luntiang trapo ng damo.

Excerpt from “The Fish” by Elizabeth Bishop

… Here and there
his brown skin hung in strips
like ancient wallpaper,
and its pattern of darker brown
was like wallpaper:
shapes like full-blown roses
stained and lost through age.
He was speckled with barnacles,
fine rosettes of lime,
and infested
with tiny white sea-lice,
and underneath two or three
rags of green weed hung down…

Elpis

2010-07-25T04:55:00.000-07:00

Elpis*
by Reya Bato
25th July 2010
3:55 pm

Elpis rose and took a peep
when he saw me roused from
my sleep, he tagged along
when I left my bed and spied
as I toasted my bread, he took
a seat as I read the broadsheet,
and drove with me to the office,
he trailed along as I accomplished
all my duties and responsibilities,
bumping and scuffing as he went
after my track, whispering wishes,
plans, and dreams, offering positive
thinking or prolonging my suffering.
As the day progressed, he was sorely
wounded. The condition remained
unchanged, the universe did not
conspire to acquire the heart's
desire. At the end of the day,
Elpis passed away. Tomorrow,
he would revive again with promises
to rejuvenate my wishes or lies
to conceal the truth that I despise.

*Elpis personifies hope in Greek mythology.

Kwentong Barbero

2010-07-16T01:50:00.000-07:00

Kwentong Barbero
(salin sa tula ni Russell Edson)
ni Reya Bato

Hala, ang sabi ng barbero
nang magupit ang tenga ng isang parokyano.

Sa lugon ng buhok ito lumagpak
para tuloy itong sanggol na bagong panganak.
Mabuting tenga ito tiyak
bumagsak nang walang kapugak-pugak

Hindi, sabi ng parokyano,
matutuli ito masyado

Sinubukan ko minsang maglagay ng mitsa
nang makapakinig naman ako ng musika
ngunit nang ito’y sindihan ko na
ulo, singit at kilikili ko ay nasunog
sumiklab pa ang apoy sa magubat na kanunog
pakiramdan ko tuloy isa akong santo
akala naman ng iba ako’y isang henyo.
Sabi ng barbero, buti na lang at nakalusot ako
ngunit di kita mapapauwi na iisa ang tenga
labag ito sa batas ng simetria
kailangan kong tanggalin ang isa pa
pero huwag kang mag-alala
ito rin ay isang disgrasya.

Siguraduhin mong ito’y di mo sinadya
ayokong magupit mo ako nang kusa
baka lalamunan mo ay malaslas kong bigla
pero sisiguraduhin ko ring hindi ko iyon tangka. #

Para sa orihinal na teksto, pakiclick ito.

Different Pair of Shoes

2010-07-08T00:17:00.000-07:00

That day she told him of her dream the previous night.

She was surrounded by people in a room filled with gaiety. She could not identify them one-by-one but she was sure she knew them all. She was facing a big mirror. Her hair was put in a bun. Her face was a canvass painted with varied hues – her eyelids were in smoky rose, her cheeks were in naughty pink and her lips were in beautiful red. Her eyes were beaming with happiness.

She was in a happy daze when her mother and two elder sisters lowered the white dress over her head and shoulders. It was not her dream gown but she loved the fit of the dress as it embraced her body.

Everybody was speaking and laughing. They were excited for the grand celebration. It was her wedding day.

Somebody handed a shoe box. She noticed that she was still barefooted. She opened the box. To her surprise, the box contained a different pair of old shoes.

She was awakened.

They were sitting opposite each other at the fast-food table. They just came from a stroll in an art gallery. He just listened to her story and said nothing. Her voice had that convincing tone and her narration was descriptive and well-expressed as if she was reading a story from a book. She was like that when she was engrossed with what she was saying.

“Everything could really happen in a dream,” Ashlyn said.

“I read in a book that dreams are messages from God,” she continued.

Erron could not think of anything to say to what she said, so he said nothing.

Ashlyn was quite a talker if she was in the mood to talk, always putting some of the ideas she got from the books she read and always theorizing. Once she started on a topic, it was so hard to pull her out of it until she extracted all her ideas about it.

“My mother once told me that she dreamt of marrying my father when she was a child. The first time she saw my father, she knew that they would end up together.” Ashlyn went on with her talking.

“Did you see your groom in your dream?” Erron asked.

“No, but I think I know him and I know what he looks like”

“That’s got to be me.” Erron said jokingly.

“No, it isn’t you.” Ashlyn replied seriously.

“Are you sure?”

“Yes.”

Erron sipped his coffee and looked at her with knitted eyebrows. He was studying her face thinking if what she said was just one of her jokes. Ashlyn was good at making someone believes something to be true then when the person was fully convinced that it was true, she would disclose that she was just making up stories. She then would laugh a belly laugh. Erron was waiting for that laugh but it did not come. So he asked another question.

“You did not see the groom in your dream, right? How did you know that it is not me?”

“I don’t know. I just know it is not you.” Ashlyn answered as she toyed with the food on her plate. “Are you angry?”

“I am. I am very angry and because of that I want to break up with you. We will not end up together so why do we still need to continue our relationship?” Erron said jokingly.

They were couples for months now. They met in an art exhibition. Erron’s college friend launched his first art exhibition and he invited him to attend the said event. It was a quiet exhibition, only few people attended.

He had stepped backwards into Ashlyn who was looking thoughtfully at one of the paintings. He apologized to her and Ashlyn made him buy an expensive lunch by way of apology. That was the start of it all.

Ashlyn thought that he was a kind of person who was inclined with arts and he had never been able to convince her that he wasn’t the kind of person she was thinking. On weekends, like that day, Erron would trail behind Ashlyn as they visited art galleries or museums.

He never imagined that they would stay long. They were opposite. But whenever their relationship turned into too routine or monotonous phase, Ashlyn looked for ways to create variety. She would invite him to try new food, new sport, and they would visit new places.

Ashlyn was fond of music, art, and literature. She had a good imagination and an ability to express her thoughts and feelings through composition and poetry. She would write poems and stories and asked Erron to read them. She did not like to show them to anybody except Erron. Sometimes Erron would joke that she had become involved with him just because she needed someone to read and to listen to her stories. Maybe she just needed an audience.

Ashlyn never wrote something related to him or related to them. Sometimes Erron wondered about the origins of her poems and compositions.

There were times, too, when Ashlyn would become reflective and aloof, drawing away from association with other even with him. He hated and could not understand her those times but he learned to give her space during those periods. Aside from that, she had no complaints about her at all. She was sympathetic to the needs of others even giving her last money if she felt it would help someone in need. She was also sweet and thoughtful.

“I think his name is Reve,” Ashlyn seriously said as they were leaving the fast-food.

“Who is ‘he’? Erron asked perplexed. “Who is Reve?”

“The groom in my dream”

“How come you know his name?”

“I remember someone mentioned his name in my dream.”

Erron continued walking and said nothing. He said nothing because he did not know what to say and what to react and he wanted to end that nonsense discussion.

“And I can recognize him when I see him” Ashlyn continued.

“Ashlyn, it is just a dream. Stop thinking about it. Dreams are the opposite of reality.” Erron dismissed the subject.

Ashlyn was quiet inside the car until they reached her home. She told Erron that she was having a headache.

“Do you want to come inside? Mama is inside.” Ashlyn asked him when they reached her home.

“Okay but I will not stay long. I have a basketball game today with my college friends. I will just say ‘hi’ to your Mom.”

They both removed their shoes as they entered Ashlyn’s house. Her house was spacious. A big replica of Vincent Van Gogh’s Starry Night was hanging in the living room. Ashlyn’s books were scattered on the center piece, on the top of the cabinets, beside the television set, and on the sofa. Ashlyn’s mother was sitting on the big sofa doing cross-stitch.

As planned, Erron did not stay long in Ashlyn’s house. He just greeted her mother and then politely asked to head off. Ashlyn told him that she could not walk with him to his car as she was still having a headache.

As he was about to put on his shoes, he noticed the arrangement of their shoes. His shoes were paired to those of Ashlyn’s. He thought that her pink high heels were a very unlikely pair to his brown leather hulking shoes. He recalled the dream of Ashlyn about the different pair of shoes on her wedding day.

Ashlyn sometimes could be a little odd, he thought.

He remembered his conversation with his college friend last month.

“Why are you still with her?” asked his college friend. “She is eccentric.”

Erron just frowned, “She’s kind and sweet once you get to know her.”

“I am really surprised you are still with her... and until now you are not getting mad.”

He gave another frown.

He gave another frown as he put on his shoes and walked to his car. #

Reya Bato
07th July 2010
10:45 PM

Tribute to Sudoku

2010-06-02T05:02:00.001-07:00

Tribute to Sudoku
by Reya Bato
2nd June 2010

Fill the grid with digits one to nine
Don’t repeat the numbers in each line
Keep these words in mind: scan and assign.

It’s not Algebra or Geometry
Each box solved leads to discovery
Use logic to learn its mystery.

It is frustrating and rewarding
Addiction that is time-consuming
Fixation that I’m really loving!

(*The poem has nine lines and nine syllables in each line.*)

Hiver

2010-05-21T23:45:00.000-07:00

“A hiver has entered my mind and it is taking over my mind and body making me do something without a sense of right and wrong.”

“What is a hiver?” Kevin asked.

“It is a strange bodiless mind organism that takes over the mind and body of other creature. It reinforces its host to do things they like without conscience,” explained Triste.

The creases on Kevin’s forehead deepened as he tried to grasp her reply.

Triste answered his inquiring look with a smile. She read about hiver in Terry Pratchett’s fantasy book, “A Hat Full of Sky”. She knew that Kevin did not have even the tiniest idea about it. She hoped that it would end his inquisition.

Triste was shaping that scene in her mind while waiting for the train in Magallanes Station. Kevin called her later that morning asking her to meet him in Glorietta. She knew the reason of his invitation. Rona probably called him and complained about her.

Rona was Kevin’s girlfriend for three years and Triste’s officemate in a small publishing house in Makati. Kevin requested Triste to back up Rona to get the vacant post in her company four months ago. Since Rona joined her company, she became closely attached to her. Anywhere Triste went, Rona trailed at her back.

Rona was a friendly person. Being a chatty and a pleaser, there were no dry moments with her. Maybe that was the reason why she and Kevin stayed together that long. It was the longest relationship that Kevin had.

In contrast, Triste was the kind of person who liked to be alone reading books or listening to epic songs. They sent chills down her spine every time she listened to those songs. She rarely made friends. Kevin was the only person she considered friend. They had been friends since college. They were classmate in one of her literature classes. He was assigned to be her partner in a book report. Triste was fascinated by his ready wit and profound personality while Kevin was captivated by her silence and very reserve nature.

By the end of the book report, they could not be separated. They met after class, ate their lunch together, and exchanged insights about almost everything. Their closeness did not change even after their graduation.

After three months of being with Rona, Triste started to feel suffocated with her presence. She began to fabricate excuses to avoid being with her. Rona noticed her detachment and started to ask questions.

“Do you have a problem?” Rona inquired.

“Nothing,” Triste replied without lifting her head from the article she was reading, “I am just busy these past days.”

“I feel that you are avoiding me. Are you upset with me? Did I do something that made you upset?”

“Nothing. Don’t worry about it.” Triste replied with a smile to assure her that she meant what she said.

“Really?”

“Yeah. Don’t worry, okay?” Triste replied again with a smile.

Oh, that’s good.” Rona said. “I thought we have a problem. I was planning to ask Kevin to speak to you about this. Speaking of Kevin, do you know what he did last night? He invited me to have a dinner in a fancy restaurant. The view was very nice. We really had a good night. He was so sweet...” Rona started her familiar litany of her escapades.

Triste stared at her drowned with her own thoughts. She began to study Rona’s face. There was nothing remarkable in her features. Her eyes grew big when she was engrossed in her conversation. Her nose was small. Her lips curled in variety of shapes when she was talking. What made Kevin fall in love with her?

Rona kept on talking. The sound that was coming out from her mouth seemed an ear-splitting tone from a microphone feedback and it was making Triste dizzy.

“Yes, we have a problem. I want you out of my life because I despise pleasing people that I despise. Off me!” Triste wanted to scream those words but she just kept staring at her.

The following days, she doubled her effort to avoid Rona and today she got a call from Kevin asking her to meet with him.

The sound and sight of the coming train cut her contemplation. The train was not crowded during that time; it was just quarter to three in the afternoon. She filed an under-time so he could meet Kevin. She didn’t even tell Rona that she was going to meet her boyfriend.

Sitting across the aisle from her were couples of boisterous college students. They were talking about a guy they met in the previous night party they attended.

The shrill-witch voices of the students seemed like a fingernails scraping down a blackboard and they were making her head ached.

“Shut your sour cabbage eating mouths up!” shouted Triste at the top of her voice.

The college students along with the other passengers turned their head to her place shocked.

One of the students, who first got by with her surprise gave a remark, “If you are envious with our noise, come and join us,” she said with a sneer.

The other students who by that moment already recovered from shock gave an annoying laugh.

“I wish I had a lower I.Q. so that I could enjoy your company,” Triste retorted.

Those scenes which were running in her head were stopped by the voice from the speaker announcing that the train had reached the Ayala Station.

Kevin was sitting in their favorite spot when she reached their meeting place. He smiled widely when he saw her.

“What kind of sickness entered your brain nowadays?” he asked teasingly.

Triste gave him a feigned confused look.

“Somebody told me that you are acting childish again, eh” he said putting a stress in the word ‘childish’.

“And who is that somebody, huh?”

“Xander told me that you are not answering his calls and you are refusing all his invitations.”

Triste smiled. It was not Rona who complained about her after all. It was Xander.

Kevin introduced Xander to her couple of weeks back. They dated and chatted on the phone but she got fed up of him. She had had enough of his flirtations.

“You promised me that you will try your best to be nice to him and you will give yourself a chance to know him.” Kevin continued.

“I did what I promised.”

Kevin raised an eyebrow.

“I knew him now and I have been nice to him by not telling him that he is a dolt whose only goal in life is to get inside women’s underwear.” There was a hint of annoyance in Triste’s voice.

“Okay, be cool, Bestie. I’ll talk to him tomorrow. I promise that he will not get on your nerves again starting tomorrow.” Kevin put his hand on his shoulder consolingly.

Kevin was fond of calling her Bestie (short for best friend). She hated that term of endearment. She pouted her lips in displeasure.

“How about a coffee, huh?” said Kevin. “My treat.”

They were halfway the nearest café when Kevin’s phone rang. It was Rona asking him to pick her up.

“Bestie, I am so sorry. I need to pick Rona up. I promised her that we will see a movie today.” Kevin explained.

“Can you stay for couple of minutes for our coffee?” Triste wished that Kevin did not notice the pleading in her voice.

Kevin looked at her uncomfortably.

Triste knew that there were clashes of thought going inside his mind whether to stay or to leave. He looked on his wristwatch. Triste knew by then that Rona won, again.

“Sorry, Bestie. Today is Friday. The road will be jammed with traffic. You know that Rona doesn’t have the patience to wait. I promise to make up with you some other time.” Kevin said.

Triste nodded and smiled.

Kevin smiled back apologetically.

She kept looking at him as he took strides away from her.

She kept on looking even she already lost him in the crowd. She forgot to tell him about the hiver. It would make him laugh when he came to know where she got that idea.

She forgot to tell him, too, that the person consumed by the hiver eventually dies insane. #

Reya Bato
20th May 2010
10:28 pm

Maligayang Pagdating

2010-05-08T01:30:00.000-07:00

Maligayang Pagdating
ni Reya Bato
(salin sa Welcome Here ni Liam Wilkinson)
Ika-7 ng Mayo 2010

Pakinggan ang aking pagkasuklam
sa mga bersong lumitaw noong
gabing nagdaan. Hangad nila’y
mangkok ng aking pagkalugod

habang ginagawa nilang kubeta
ang pilas ng papel na inilabas ko
sa kanila. Hayaan ninyong
ibida ko ang alibadbad na

aking nadama sa magdamag
na pag-iiskoba ng duming naiwan
sa sala. Sa bawat singit-singit
ng mga palugit, may mga nakasingit

na hulagway at pagwawangis.
Dinggin ang aking pagdusta
sa aking mga bwisita, sa bahay
ko ay ni wala silang itinira

kundi ang umaalingawngaw
na aliw-iw at nakakaaliw na
mga salitain na animo’y alingasaw
na naiwan sa pahinang palikuran.

Orihinal na Teksto:

dito

A Story

2010-04-22T04:04:00.000-07:00

A Story
by Reya Bato
22nd April 2010

It is said that in death, all the memories you have flash back before your eyes.

It is true.

As I clutch my chest helplessly trying to suck air to fill my lungs, all the memories come rushing before my eyes. It seems that somebody has pushed the rewind button of a movie projector and I am watching the images frantically appear then disappear on an invisible monitor.

There is the two-year old me running from room-to-room of our ancestral house in Tagaytay.

My Mother giving me a huge kiss when I was three years old because I could read the children's book given by my Auntie.

My first day in school, I was about to cry because I could not find my school bus when I saw my brother standing beside me holding a can of soda. Nevertheless, I cried on my way to the bus - tears of joy for the feeling of safety and security.

My elder sister and I playing pirate while riding the cradle in front of our house. The red-gold light of sunset was flowing across the horizon.

I, in a white gala dress, walking in a queue for my first communion.

The image of our house in Pasig also appears followed by the beautiful figurine clock given by my eldest sister. We had a huge fight the night before. I read the note on the card posted on the wrapper: "Sorry. Always study hard. I love you."

The day when my brother-in-law asked for the hand of my eldest sister also flashes on the invisible monitor. He was narrating the first day he met my sister -- he heard chimes of bell when he saw her.

The scene changes. I was in my college auditorium; it was two weeks before the graduation. They were announcing the list of honors. I was fidgeting on my seat. My heart jumped out of my chest when I heard my name. Later that afternoon, I called my Mom crying giving her the good news – tears of joy for the job well done.

The day when you invited me for a dinner seems a very recent past. You rang the bell hanging beside the door on our way out. I recalled the story of my brother-in-law that time.

The next image shows the time I visited an old church. Somebody told me that if it is your first visit to a church, you must knock on its door and make a wish. I prayed for you. I also asked for a sign - a white rose.

The images continue to change rapidly. Most of them happened inside the classroom. The face of my students flashes transiently on the invisible monitor. The fast shifting of each scene does not give me chance to feel nostalgic.

Then, it is you again. We were eating in a cozy restaurant when you handed me a book. I looked at the cover -- a white rose was printed on it.

It is followed by the moments I had with you. Our endless talk on the phone, the contagious laughter that we shared, our leisurely short walks to my house, fancy dinners where you would always hand me a book and I would give you a poem in exchange.

The delightful images are erased by the scene in our backyard. The smoke coming from the burnt paper stung my eyes. I was burning the poems I composed for you. There was a cold, thin feeling growing inside me and it was slowly consuming my heart. It made me hard to breathe.

I cannot breathe. It seems somebody is squeezing the life out of me. I try to gulp air. I even open my mouth wide to suck in air but there is an obstruction in my airway. I try to clutch my chest struggling to remove the tightening pressure on my chest. The numbness starts spreading in my limbs and my palms start to sweat. There is a freezing coldness on my feet. I open my mouth wider and hastily gulp air. I cannot draw in air.

People appear -- my mother, my two sisters, my brother, nurses, doctors -- hovering over me, trying to help.

The doctors and the nurses are like apparitions pacing swiftly back-and-forth. They start giving me life support including defibrillation (that is the administration of an electric shock to the heart).

It is said, too, that in death the last sense to malfunction is the sense of hearing.

Maybe, it is true.

Just before I lose my consciousness, I hear you calling my name.

I cannot make out if you are in the room, though. I read that lack of oxygen in the brain causes tissue death which brings to brain damage. Is my brain already damaged because I can clearly hear you calling my name? I am certain you will not be there. You are not there.

You are calling my name over and over again just like in the last image that is still flickering repeatedly on the invisible monitor.

You were standing near the shadow of the tree. You were waiting for me. You invited me for a walk to my house. The crisp sound of the dried leaves as our feet trampled on them became our parting song as we passed by. The warm ray of the sun bathed our body. Nobody wanted to speak. Halfway to my house, you cut the silence between us. You told me you were sincerely sorry and you begged for my forgiveness. I did not want to hear them. I did not say a word either -- no words would bring you back. I ran away from you. You called my name over and over again. I ran as fast as I could. The short distance seemed never-ending.

Ako ay Buhay sa mga Sandaling

2010-02-24T03:01:00.000-08:00

Ako ay Buhay sa mga Sandaling

Salin ni Reya Bato

Ako ay buhay sa mga sandaling
kasiping ko ang kanyang katawan
na unti-unting nagkakamalay
at tuluyang ginigising ng pithaya
ng laman. Kinakagat ko ang kanyang
balikat hanggang sa maabot namin
ang halimuyak ng Tagsibol --
napakasidhi, napakalaki, iisa
sa makulay na sandali.

Kalugod-lugod na takot
ang naghahari sa paglilimayon
ng kanyang mga labi (at mula
sa pagitan ng kanyang mga hita
na kumikibot at humihingal,
isang nag-uumigpaw na ulan
ang dumidilig sa bulaklak
na sumasayaw sa bawat
kumpas ng aking balakang)

Orihinal na Teksto:

Sometimes I Am Alive Because With
by E.E. Cummings

Sometimes I am alive because with
me her alert treelike body sleeps
which I will feel slowly sharpening
becoming distinct with love slowly,
who in my shoulder sinks sweetly teeth
until we shall attain the Springsmelling
intense large together coloured instant

the moment pleasantly frightful

when, her mouth suddenly rising, wholly
begins with mine fiercely to fool
(and from my thighs which shrug and pant
a murdering rain leapingly reaches the upward singular deepest flower which she
carries in a gesture of her hips)

Aking Pagsinta, Lilimutin Natin Siya!

2010-02-13T06:12:00.001-08:00

Aking Pagsinta, Lilimutin Natin Siya!

(salin sa tula ni Emily Dickinson na Heart, We Will Forget Him!)

Aking pagsinta, lilimutin natin siya!
Ikaw at ako, ngayong gabing ito!
Lilimutin mo ang bigay niyang init
Aapulahin ko naman ang ningas niyang hatid.

Kung nangyari na, ipaalam mo sa akin
Upang ang aking alaala ay magdilim;
Dali! Ako ay nababahala na sa iyong pagkaantala,
Ako ay mangulila at alaala niya ay hindi mawala!

(orihinal na teksto)

Heart, we will forget him!
You and I, tonight!
You may forget the warmth he gave,
I will forget the light.

When you have done, pray tell me
That I my thoughts may dim;
Haste! lest while you're lagging.
I may remember him!

Ako, na Ipinanganak na Babae at Nangangamba

2010-01-16T21:20:00.000-08:00

Edna Saint Vincent Millay

Ako, na Ipinanganak na Babae at Nangangamba

(halaw sa I, Being Born a Woman and Distressed

ni Edna St. Vincent Millay)

Ako, na ipinanganak na babae at nangangamba

sa pangangailangan ng aking kauri at aming sapantaha,

ay nahikayat ng iyong kalapitan para makaunawa

sa karik’tan ng iyong pagkatao, at damhin ang pihong ligaya

habang nakapatong ang bigat mo sa akin katawan:

Napakarupok ng hininga ng buhay, nilaan

upang linawin ang tibok at guluhin ang isipan,

at iwan mo ulit akong kulang, sarili ay hindi kamtan.

Wag mong isipin, gayunman, ang abang kataksilan

ng aking mapusok na dugo laban sa aking tulirong isipan,

iisipin kita nang may pagmamahal, o kaya’y rekaduhan

ang aking pangungutya ng awa, -- hayaan

mong linawin ko ito sa katwirang:

Tanto kong ito ay kahibangan at alanganing dahilan

ng ating pag-uusap sa muli nating pag-uulayaw.

Orihinal na Teksto:

I, being born a woman and distressed

By all the needs and notions of my kind,

Am urged by your propinquity to find

Your person fair, and feel a certain zest

To bear your body's weight upon my breast:

So subtly is the fume of life, designed

To clarify the pulse and cloud the mind,

And leave me once again undone, possessed.

Think not for this, however, the poor treason

Of my stout blood against my staggering brain,

I shall remember you with love, or season

My scorn with pity, -- let me make it plain:

I find this frenzy insufficient reason

For conversation when we meet again.

Commercial Break (Part 2)

2009-12-23T05:11:00.001-08:00

I shut my eyes and pressed my thumb on my temple. I was tempted to shout at the top of my voice or bang my fist on the table, kick the trash bin beside my left foot, and hurl the pile of papers in front of me.

The phone rang.

“Hello! Blah, blah, blah, blah office, good morning!” The way I greeted the person on the other line astonished me. There was no hint of annoyance in it.

“I can still be courteous even I am raging with anger,” I thought.

The owner of the voice on the other line was jovial. It drowned my ranging anger.

He wanted to speak to Mr. Blah-blah. Mr. Blah-blah made a sign that he could not take the call.

“Mr. Blah-blah can’t come to the phone now. May I have your name and number. He will call you back as soon as possible.” I replied.

I jotted down his name and number then said goodbye. When I put down the receiver, Mr. Blah-blah called me to give another set of paperwork. I did not stir on my seat.

I had an urge to shout at the top of my voice again.

I bowed down my head, shut my eyes, and pressed my thumb on my temple.

Mr. Blah-blah called me again to hand the paperwork. I lifted my head, tried to smile, walked towards him, and extended my right hand to get the other set of papers.

I took a deep breath before burying myself to work.

“These papers are a relief anyway”, I thought, “I can forget everything once I am occupied with them.”

(Yup, folks, I'm changing my genre. I am writing prose now. I tried to write poetry these past days but to no avail. The muse of my poetry escaped again. Actually, I chose three poems that I will translate or adapt in Filipino but... I couldn't find any drive to write a new poem. So, enjoy my very first short story.)

Dalamhati

2009-10-05T06:25:00.000-07:00

Halaw sa 'Sorrow' ni Edna St. Vincent Millay

Tumatahip sa aking dibdib
ang sakit na walang patid
sa pagtangis. Ang mga tao
ay alumpihit at napapahiyaw
sa sakit, -- Sa pagdating

ng bukang-liwayway
sila’y matatagpuang walang
ingay ni galaw; hindi man lang
nadagdagan o ni nabawasan,
wala ring nasawata

ni nag-umpisa. Ang mga tao
ay gumagayak at sa bayan
ay nagpupunta; ako’y nakaupo
sa aking silya. Lahat ng alaala
ay mabagal at lanta: Tumayo

man o umupong muli
ay walang halaga, o kaya’y
anong gagamiting bestida
o panaping isusuot sa paa.

(Orihinal na Teksto)
Sorrow
Edna St. Vincent Millay

Sorrow like a ceaseless rain
Beats upon my heart.
People twist and scream in pain,—
Dawn will find them still again;
This has neither wax nor wane,
Neither stop nor start.

People dress and go to town;
I sit in my chair.
All my thoughts are slow and brown:
Standing up or sitting down
Little matters, or what gown
Or what shoes I wear.

Halaw sa Lyric 17

2009-09-28T23:38:00.000-07:00

Salin sa Lyric 17
ni Reya Bato

(mula kay Jose Garcia Villa)

Una, ang tula ay mahika
At musika gaya ng ibong magdaya.
Ito ay gumagalaw na liwanag
At namumulaklak na ibong papalipad.
Ito ay payat tulad ng batingaw
At may apoy na tinataglay.
Ito ay may dunong ng búsog
At katulad ng rosas sa pagluhod.
May kakayahan itong pakinggan
Kinang ng kalapati at usa sa parang.
Kaya nitong takpan
Ang nakikita, kaparis ng nobya sa kasal.
Sa kabuuan ay nais kong lumutang
Ang Maykapal, tula’y buong liyag na masdan.

(Orihinal na Teksto)

"Lyric 17"
Jose Garcia Villa

First, a poem must be magical,

Then musical as a sea-gull.

It must be a brightness moving

And hold secret a bird's flowering

.It must be slender as a bell,

And it must hold fire as well.

It must have the wisdom of bows

And it must kneel like a rose.

It must be able to hear

The luminance of dove and deer.

It must be able to hide

What it seeks, like a bride.

And over all I would like to hover

God, smiling from the poem's cover.

To A Son Who's Learning to Play Chess

2009-09-26T05:30:00.001-07:00

Son,

Every piece has different move to take:
(Pawns advance one step
Rooks march straight
Knights dash in L-shape
Bishops glide through diagonal lanes
And the queen parades on all quarters.)
but all move to capture the enemy
and to guard king’s safety.

Your every move has an outcome
don’t rouse your pieces without a plan
make them work together to trap your rival.
Predict the movements of your enemy
maximise all the possibilities
then be ready to strike.
You must also know how to sacrifice
the little pieces to fortify your next attack.

Play smart and play hard
make the right moves
and keep this in mind:
you'll lose the game
once your king is trapped.

It is checkmate!

Leaf

2009-09-02T03:05:00.000-07:00

The leaf,
Catching
The rays
Of the sun,
Dances
To the melody
Of the wind –
Seizing
Each delightful moment –
Until
It snaps off its twig.
Decay.

Maligno

2009-08-26T23:07:00.000-07:00

Maraming misteryo
ang bumabalot sa gobyerno.
Ano bang mga maligno
ang nananahan dito?

May mga malignong ‘di matahimik
hanggang ‘di naisasalin ang taglay na bagsik;
Sa eleksyon dapat manalo ang anak o kapatid.
Sila ang tinatawag na mga Amalanhig.

Marami ring namamahay na Aswang
Asal tao sa harap ng sambayanan
Hayok na halimaw pala sa kasakiman
Pumapatay sa bayang walang malay.

May mga mapaglaro ring Duwende
Sila ang nagdadala ng malas o suwerte
depende sa laman ng bigay na sobre
o sa halagang nakasulat sa tseke.

Meron ding magaling manlinlang
Bayan ay nililigaw sa katotohanan
Ginagawang mangmang ang mamamayan
Sila ang mga tusong Tikbalang.

Mga kababayan, hindi sila tinatablan
ng bawang, bulong, o pagbaliktad ng kasuotan.
Ang panlaban natin ay nagkakaisang mamamayan
Handang maglingkod nang tapat sa bayan.

Warm Up

2009-08-19T04:39:00.000-07:00

Sa loob ng aking isipan,
may nagkalat na talaguhitan:
Umabot ba ang kita sa tudlaan?

Nahawi ang mga linya
sa paglabas ni Lady Gaga
na sumusunod sa kanyang sinisinta.

Di pa man nakakahabol ang babae
kinain na siya ng gutom na presidente
na ngumangasab pa ng mga mahal na putahe.

Habang ngumunguya ang pangahas
si Orlando ay biglang lumabas.
Bakit paggising niya, isa na siyang dilag?

Sa bawat kisap, nagbago ang imahe sa aking utak
nagliwaliw, sumirko-sirko at nagpakalat-kalat.
Ang aking utak ay parang mawawasak!

KA-BLAAAAAMMMM!!!

Sumabog nga ito na parang bomba
Tumilapon ang bawat linya
Napakanta ng Starstruck si Lady Gaga

Kumalat ang mga putahe ng presidente
Napatili si Orlado na ngayo’y isa ng babae
Nagcartwheel ang mga pasaway na imahe.

Nagtakbuhan silang pakalat-kalat
Iniwan akong wasak ang utak
Umaagos ang membrane, cells, dugo, at ugat.

Tanaga

2009-06-21T22:54:00.000-07:00

(Tanaga para kay Reya)

Kay tahimik ng gabi,

Ang isang binibini

ay sumubok humabi

letra sa tabi-tabi:

(Tanaga na nagbibigay aral)

Mag-ipon sa'yong gusi

Nang ika'y may mahasi.

Pagdating ng tagbisi*

ay 'di ka magsisisi.

*tagbisi - tagtuyot

(Tanaga tungkol sa pananampalataya)

Ang taong bukas-palad

Ay madaling umunlad

Kamay ay nakalahad

Sa biyaya N'yang gawad.

(Tanaga tungkol sa kalikasan)

Sa tikatik na ambon

Umaawit ang dahon,

Sumisilong ang ibon,

Sumasayaw ang alon.

(Tanaga tungkol sa bayan)

'Pag palasyo'y pinasok

Ng buwayang niluklok

Sistema'y mabubulok

Baya'y maghihimutok.

Panawagan kay Ginang Justitia

2009-06-21T22:50:00.000-07:00

O, Aleng may tangan

ng timbangan ng katarungan,

pagkiling ng 'yong sukatan

ay huwag mong pahintulutan.

Ebidensya'y matiyagang apuhapin,

Buong sikap na siyasatin,

At saka maingat na timbangin.

Ang nagkasala ang siya mong usigin.

Itarak ang hawak na espada

sa taong puno ng lisya.

Tagpasin ang kasamaang taglay niya

nang 'di na makapaminsala pa.

O, Ginang Justitia,

ikaw na nakapiring ang mga mata,

huwag kang magpa-impluwensya

sa yaman at kapangyarihan nilang nagkasala.

Huwag din naman sana

sa timbanga'y magkamali ka ng basa

o maitarak sa walang sala

ang talim ng 'yong espada.

Ink Blot: Para sa mga Manunulat

2009-06-21T22:46:00.000-07:00

Manunulat, huwag mong pahihintulutan

sa leeg ng panulat mo’y may sumakal.

Tinta’y ‘di makadadaloy nang maalwan

na magiging sanhi ng kanyang kamatayan.

Huwag na huwag mo ring papayagan

sa puso ng panulat mo’y may sumakmal.

Dadanak ang tinta, aagos sa kawalan

masasayang ang dulot niyang kabuluhan.

Lalong huwag mong pababayaan

maruming kamay sa papel mo’y dumangkal.

Kaputian niyang taglay ay madudungisan

kaya basurahan ang kanyang babagsakan.

Kapag nangyari ang kinatatakutan,

walang matitira sa iyo kinabukasan

kundi isang madilim na kahungkagan.

Itim na tintang kikilapol sa’yong pangalan.

Manong Tsuper ng Traysikel

2009-06-20T00:29:00.000-07:00

Manong Tsuper ng Traysikel

Ito ang kwento ng isang damsel

na sumakay ng traysikel:

Minsan may pumarang damsel

na may dalang mabigat na bundle

kay Manong Tsuper ng Traysikel.

"Manong, d'yan lang po sa may chapel,"

ani damsel, "magtitirik lang po ng candle."

"Brrrrrroooooommmmm!" ang brattle ng makina ng traysikel

habang umiikot ang wheel at axle.

Hindi pa nakakalayo ang kanilang travel

nang "Prrrrrrrrrtttttttt!" ang tunong ng whistle.

Pinahinto ng pulis si Manong Tsuper ng Traysikel.

"Asa'n ang lagay mong nickle?"

pangongotong ng pulis na sobrang cruel.

Para maiwasan ang quarrel at hassle,

binawasan ng kawawang tsuper ng traysikel

ang kinita niyang nickle.

Pagkatapos ng scene sa pulis na sobrang cruel,

tumuloy na ang damsel sa kanyang pagtatravel.

Biglang bumuhos ang drizzle

at nagpawobble-wobble ang traysikel.

Lumusot ang gulong sa mga puddles

kaya kailangang humawak nang mabuti sa handle.

"Saan na ba napunta ang pondong pambili ng gravel?"

bulong ni Manong Tsuper ng Traysikel.

Huminto ang drizzle,

nagpatuloy ang kanilang travel.

Pagkatapos ng lahat ng hassle,

dumating din sila sa chapel in fine fettle.

"Magdarasal na rin ako at magtitirik ng candle,"

sabi ni Manong Tsuper ng Traysikel.

Sa loob ng chapel,

buong taimtim na nagdasal si Manong Tsuper ng Traysikel:

"Diyos ko, wag namang tumaas pa

ang presyo ng isang barrel ng diesel.

Dahil kung tataas pa,

sa sobrang little ng kinikita kong nickle

ang maipapakain ko sa pamilya ko ay puro na lang noodles."

Ang dasal naman ni damsel:

"Pakinggan N'yo po sana ang dasal

ni Manong Tsuper ng Traysikel.

Tapat siyang nagbabanat ng muscle

sa kabila ng kita niyang very little.

Haikus

2009-06-20T00:28:00.000-07:00

The snail slowly draws

Long winding silver ribbons

On the green carpet

Pilak na laso

Ginuguhit sa damo

Ng susong pintor

Like a captive soul

Escaping from dark dungeon:

Sun rose in splendor

Kumawala na

Sa kulimlim na rehas

Ang haring araw

Under the moonlight

One by one the petals fall;

She’s plucking a rose

Sa sinag ng buwan

Ang sumisintang dilag

Hawak ay rosas

The sky is so bright

White clouds were crossing gaily---

They’d just been set free

Sa puting langit

Gumagapang ang ulap

Nang buong laya

Earth is painted black

The sky is adorned with stars---

Mysterious twilight

Mundong kay dilim

Bitui’y dumarating---

Takipsilim na!

Ink Blot

2009-06-20T00:24:00.000-07:00

Ayoko na magsulat, sinakal mo kasi ang aking panulat nang mahawakan mo ang kanyang leeg. Hindi tuloy malayang nakadaloy ang tinta niya. Naghihingalo na siya pero hindi ka pa rin bumitaw sa pagkakasakal sa kanya.

Ayoko na magsulat, bigla kasing bumuhos ang ulan nang mapatid ang kanyang paghinga. Nabasa tuloy ang sulatan ko at kumilapol ang tintang kanina lang ay maingat niyang iniluluwa nang ako pa ang may hawak sa kanya.

Ayoko na magsulat, lumabo na kasi at dumumi ang aking sulatan at patuloy pa rin ang pagbuhos ng ulan.

Ayoko na magsulat dahil pagkatapos ng lahat, alam kong wala nang matitira sa akin kung hindi ang kahungkagan sa aking harapan na kasing itim ng tintang kumalat sa aking sulatan.

Diamante

2009-06-17T00:38:00.000-07:00

Capitalist

Wealthy, Greedy

Dictating, Deceiving, Devouring

Manipulation, Iniquity, Unity, Revolution

Struggling, Striving, Starving

Enslaved, Oppressed

Worker

Diamond Poem - developed by Iris Tiedt; a poem in shape of a diamond.

Repleksyon

2009-06-17T00:36:00.000-07:00

Pilipinong may sikmurang laging kumakalam

ay ang nakasusuklam na imahe ng mga

repleksyong pilit na tinatalikuran

ng tiwali sa pamahalaan. Ang

bayang pinagsisilbihan

ay mukha ng

Kahirapan

ay mukha ng

bayang pinagsisilbihan

ng tiwali sa pamahalaan. Ang

repleksyong pilit na tinatalikuran

ay ang nakasusuklam na imahe ng mga

Pilipinong may sikmurang laging kumakalam

Reverie Syrup

2009-06-17T00:29:00.000-07:00

Usage and Dosage:

To soothe the fever of the brain at worry,

take a spoonful syrup of sweet reverie.

Use this narcotic in discreet doses only.

It dulls the sharp corners of one’s memory

then produces a soft, fresh vapor of liberty.

Warning and Precautions:

Take the syrup in every scheduled hour.

Do not exceed the given dose.

Too much reverie submerges and drowns.

In case of an accidental overdose,

immediately seek the help of reality.

Mga Sangkap:

1 tasang pinira-pirasong masasayang alaala ng nakaraan

2 kilong mithiin sa buhay (pinagtagni-tagni)

5 malalaking hiwa ng pangarap sa buhay

3 tasang tiwala sa masaganang kinabukasan

1 litrong tubig ng pagkalimot sa problema

7 patak ng inspirasyon

2 kutsaritang katahimikan

7 kutsarang dasal (pwedeng dagdagan kung kulang pa sa panlasa)

Paraan:

Siguraduhing piniling mabuti ang mga pinira-pirasong masasayang alaala ng nakaraan. Huwag hayaang mahaluan ito ng malulungkot na alaala. Ihalo ang 2 kilong mithiin sa buhay at ang 5 malalaking hiwa ng pangarap. Haluin mabuti. Ilagay ang 3 tasang tiwala sa masaganang kinabukasan.

Ihulog ang mga pinaghalo-halong sangkap sa kumukulong isang litro ng tubig ng pagkalimot sa problema. Pakuluan ng isang oras.

Ihalo ang 7 patak ng inspirasyon at ibudbod ang 2 kutsarang katahimikan. Patamisin ng 7 kutsarang dasal (dagdagan kung kulang pa sa tamis).

Pakuluin hanggang sa lumapot ang sabaw.

Palamigin.

Meron ka ng REVERIE SYRUP!!!

Brain Cell

2009-06-17T00:27:00.000-07:00

A part of me is a death trap

In every tick of the clock,

Millions are put to their final stop.

Inside my mind,

...there's a silent genocide.

Pilipino, Tunay ka bang Malaya?

2009-06-11T03:33:00.001-07:00

***

Walang umento sa sahod ng mga obrero

Milyong Pilipino ang nawalan ng trabaho

Naragdagan ang presyo ng produktong petrolyo

Lumiit ang pondo ng panlipunang serbisyo

(Pilipino, ikaw ba ay tunay na malaya,

sa kahirapan ba'y tuluyan nang nakawala?)

Lumalabang manggagawa ay biglang nawala

Silang tumuligsa'y pinaslang nang walang awa

Binusalan ang bibig ng mga lider-masa

Hindi pinakinggan daing nilang nagdurusa

(Pilipino, nakamit mo ba ang kalayaan,

wala bang sumusupil sa iyong karapatan?)

Upang manatili sa hawak niyang posisyon,

tusong pangulo ay nakakita ng solusyon:

"Isulong ang pagpapalit sa 'ting konstitusyon

nang ang pamumunong muli'y hindi na makwest'yon!"

(Pilipino, ang kalayaan mo ba ay wagas,

ngayong ang pangulo'y niluluto na ang CON ASS?)

The Masquerade

2009-06-10T06:57:00.000-07:00

Act One

The curtain opens

Audience releases a sigh of excitement

Act Two

Hypocritos steps on the stage.

Audience clasps his hands in wait

Act Three

Audience asks to laugh.

Hypocritos wears a large grinning mask

After quoting his comedy lines,

Audience roars and laughs.

Act Four

Audience demands to cry.

Hypocritos grabs a frowning mask and howls

In the middle of some tragic lines,

Audience moans and weeps.

Last Act

The curtain falls.

Audience claps.

Hypocritos sighs.

Curtain Call

Audience goes,

Finds another masquerade to laugh and to cry.

Hypocritos takes off files of mask,

Then wears his one true disguise.

Takatak Boy

2009-06-10T06:54:00.000-07:00

Takatakatakatak!

Ang lagatak ng kahong hawak-hawak

laman ay yosi at kending sangkatutak.

Ialok sa lahat nang may buong galak.

Takatakatakatak!

Tatak ng tunong na humahatak

upang may barya namang pumatak

sa loob ng kahong putak nang putak.

Takatakatakatak!

Palakpak ng kahong pumapalatak

kapit ng bisig na sa pawis ay tagaktak

sa gitna ng kalye, ang init ay sumusulak.

Takatakatakatak!

Iyak ng kanina pang talak nang talak.

Bumili na ang lahat ng may balak

pampasak sa sikmurang nagnanaknak.

Takatakatakatak!

Ibigay na ang inyong baryang latak

upang ang hamak na kahon ay humalakhak

at makapagpahinga na, sa gilid ay sumalampak.

Tribute to Bolo

2009-06-10T06:53:00.000-07:00

Protection of the valiant, servant to the tyrant

Tool of the peasant, badge for the gallant.

Then there’s a popular adage of a savant:

“Contend with a pen and it will be blunt.”

There’s a ‘haras’ for cutting tall grass

‘Kutsilyo’ made from a bright brass

‘Garab’ is a tool for harvesting rice

‘Sundang’ is the best device to slice

But bless the sword ‘bolo’

Grasped by Gat Andres Bonifacio

It brought a sudden deathblow

To those who caused us great sorrow.

With every thrust, the tyranny was crushed

The Filipino warriors that they tried to hush

Were suddenly fighting in an unexpected gush

Holding their bolo while glaring their tush.

It will always be known in our history

The sword that fought bravely for our liberty

Against the pistol of the Spanish army

May its luster shine forever brightly!

Hymn to Hypnos

2009-06-04T02:01:00.000-07:00

I call upon you, oh god Hypnos

Bring me to your palace in Erebos

Run away with me from all the chaos

Lay me down on your doss.

Let my eyelids droop under my brows

Sing your lullabies until I drowse

Keep me away from all the soughs

And those things that can make me rouse.

Zzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz...

(I’m asleep, don’t wake me up

I’m now in the garden full of hyssop

Only when peace shows up

Is the time that I will get up...)

Tribute to Fire

2009-06-04T01:59:00.000-07:00

In a story of a long time ago

god Prometheus stole a dancing glow

of bright red, orange, and yellow

a spring where strong passion and energy flow.

So magical yet so dangerous

What are you holding, O god Prometheus?

So hot and so dry

A Dancing Spirit on high

Touch it? Don’t give it a try

or else it will give you a painful cry.

O, Fire…

A Dancing Spirit of bright yellow, orange, and red

People stand before you in dread

Your hunger must constantly fed

So your warmth will continuously spread.

O, Fire…

A Spirit of Light

In the darkness of the night

Make this place so bright tonight

Be our shining knight.

O, Fire…

A Spirit of Passion

Give us your protection

Not our destruction

Don’t lick your tongue on our possession.

Tribute to Mirror

2009-06-04T01:57:00.000-07:00

Vain Narcissus sat by the dark, still pool

Just to take a glimpse on that face. Oh so beautiful!

You made him fall in love with himself, he’s really a fool.

You killed him. Oh how can you be so cruel!

You make your model be more self-aware

You reflect their soul and make it bare

You cannot lie and you will not dare

Even it hurts, you do not care!

These are the fallacies that people need to attend:

We must not break you. It is a bad omen!

We must cover you if there’s a wake being tend

So you will not steal the soul of our departed.

Witches and wizards use you to recite their spells

Vampires don’t stare at you, wise people tell

Children meet you holding some candles

Calling the soul of ‘Bloody Mary’ to rise from the hell.

Mirror, mirror hanging on wall,

Just give your answer to all:

What’s in you that we cannot control,

Looking at you and answering your call?

Tribute to King Sol

2009-05-26T23:16:00.000-07:00

Oh, Great Luminous Wise Eye,

King of the vast Kingdom Sky

Are you haughty or you’re simply shy?

Cause you’re always hiding your face in our pry.

Your brightness is timeless,

Your intrusiveness... boundless!

You serve as the mute witness

To all the Earth’s business.

Generations come and generations go

The wind: round and round it blows

Streams and rivers continue to flow

You: in silence, just emitting golden halos.

You keep vigil to the life

Of both the fool and the wise

In harmony and in strife

From their birth ‘til their demise.

What has been done will be done once more

What is new to you, oh Signor?

You have seen everything of yore

Is there anything that you don’t know?

Katitikan sa Isang Pulong

2009-05-26T23:13:00.000-07:00

Petsa: Ika-dalawa ng Abril, taong 2009

Mga Dumalo:

Mr. Y

Mrs. Y

R. S.

Pinag-usapan:

Makailang ulit umikot ang mga kamay ng relo

unti-unting naubos ang pizzang hinati sa walo

sa bawat pagkabawas, nagbahagi ang kasamang ginoo

isang ideolohiya mula simula hanggang dulo.

Unang Hiwa:

Nagsimula sa lipunang primitibo

O, kay tahimik na mundo!

Simple lamang ang pagtatalo

sa pagitan ng kalikasan at ng tao.

Ikalawang Hiwa:

Hindi naiwasan ang panloloko

ng mga taong sadyang pinanganak na tuso

nang-api sa walang kalaban-labang tao

nagkaroon tuloy ng alipin at ng amo.

Ikatlong Hiwa:

Hindi pa rin natapos ang pananamantala

ang pang-aapi ay lalong pang ngang lumala

mga magsasaka ay patuloy sa pagbabata

lakas paggawa, sinangla sa panginoong maylupa.

Ika-apat na Hiwa:

Sa ika-apat na yugto, pang-aapi’y di pa rin naglaho

mga tusong kapitalista, patuloy pa ring namuno

ang paboritong kutlo ng mapang-abusong tuso:

‘’Paikutin ang kanilang ulo nang manatili sa pwesto.’’

Ikalimang Hiwa:

Katotohanan ay biglang sumambulat

mga manggagawa ay biglang naging mulat

“Magkapit-kamay, humawak ng armas

upang matigil na ang kaapihang dinaranas.”

Ika-anim na Hiwa:

Mararating pa ba ang lipunang komunista?

Walang manggagawa, walang kapitalista

walang sinasamantala, walang nananamantala

may pagkapantay-pantay sa buong planeta.

Dalawang hiwa pa ng pizza

ang naiwan sa gitna ng mesa

wala nang naglakas loob pang kumuha

dahil bawat isa ay punong-puno na.

Punong-puno ng kaalaman

kaalaman tungkol sa kaapihan

kaapihan ng maliliit na mamamayan

mamamayang babangon para sa kinabukasan!

Dilim

2009-05-26T23:12:00.000-07:00

Ipikit ang mga mata nang mariin

Anong nakikita mo sa dilim?

Wala na ba sa'yong paningin

ang mga damdaming kinikimkim?

Mawawala ba ang mga tinig

Sa likod ng pintong nakapinid?

Magbabago ba ang iyong daigdig,

Sa pagmulat ba'y wala ka na sa'yong silid?

Mainit na Sabaw, Kaalamang Umaapaw (Para kina Y)

2009-05-24T23:08:00.000-07:00

Ikalabing-anim ng Marso ang araw

Dalawang mangangatha ang naka-ulayaw

Magkakilanlan ang unang pakay

Ikalawa’y magpalitan ng mga pananaw.

Sa bawat pagtilamsik ng laway

Ilang hulagway ang nabigyang linaw

Kasabay ng paghigop ng mainit na sabaw

Mesa ay bumaha ng ideyang umaapaw.

(sandok... higop... lunok... sinop...)

Sandok ng mainit na sabaw sa tasa

Higop ng mga ideyang inilatag sa mesa

Lunok ng sabaw na kay sarap ng lasa

Sinop ng mga aral na nakuha sa kanila.

(sandok... higop... lunok... sinop...)

Tuloy-tuloy lumagatak ang kubyertos

Pagkain sa hapag ay tuluyan nang naubos

Ngunit ang mga kaalamang umaagos

Ay walang patid pa rin sa pagbuhos.

Dumating ang katapusan, napuno ang sisidlan

Ng mainit na sabaw sa aking tiyan,

Ng bagong kaalaman sa aking isipan,

At ng mga kaibigan sa aking listahan.

Binhi ng Galit

2009-05-24T23:06:00.000-07:00

Minsan, nagtanim ako ng isang binhi ng galit

Araw-araw, dinilig ko ito ng ngitngit

Winisikan ko rin ng patabang himutok

Kaya ito’y sumibol sa kubling lupa ng poot.

Natuwa ako nang ito’y sumuloy

Ngunit naduwag ako nang ito’y yumabong

Kaya sinikap kong patayin ng pagpapasensya

Ngunit ang ugat yata’y bumaon na nang sobra.

Lumipas ang araw, ang galit ay nagsikip

Kaya gumapang ito palabas ng dibdib

Sumulong pa ito at umabot sa bibig

At doon sa dila’y namunga ng salitang masasakit.

Ang mga dahon nito’y tumakip sa tenga

Naging bingi sa paghingi n’ya ng dispensa

Nagsumiksik din ang sanga sa mga mata

Kaya hindi na nakita pa ang pagmamakaawa niya.

Nagdilim ang mata, nagsara ang tenga

Hindi na nalaman ang sumunod na istorya

Galit ay unti-unting nang nalanta

Hanggang sa mawala na,

dahil wala na rin siya.

Just Because...

2009-05-24T22:50:00.000-07:00

Just because I ate my lunch

when anger was eating my heart

... my food got no taste

as I ate my lunch in haste

... I almost spewed my food

because it was not properly chewed

… I simply ate the half

and dumped the other chunk

Now...

… my stomach is upset

and my gastric juices are not at rest.

It’s all because I ate my lunch

when anger was eating my heart.

The Woe in Sowing (Ang Hinaing sa Pagtatanim)

2009-05-21T04:43:00.000-07:00

The Woe in Sowing

Does the farmer
listen
to the earth's complaint
when it feels the pain
the moment it is opened
with the plough
so the wheat
may be sown?

Does the earth
only feel
the sting of the wound
or does it experience
the thrill of the seed
Excited!
with the coming of
the joy of its fruit?

Ang Hinaing sa Pagtatanim

Nakikinig ba ang
magsasaka
sa panaghoy ng lupa
nang maramdaman nito
ang hapdi ng pagsugat ng araro
upang maipunla ang
natutulog na mga
buto?

Nararamdaman lang ba
ng lupa ang sakit
na dulot ng araro
o nararanasan din niya
ang saya ng punla
Nagagalak!
sa pagdating ng araw,
Araw ng Pagsibol?

Mga Awit ng Pagkasiphayo

2009-05-21T04:42:00.000-07:00

Puwing
Umihip ang hanging pumukaw sa aking kamalayan
Umalimbukay ang natitining na alaala ng nakaraan
Gumiri-giri, umindak-indak sa aking harapan
Pumuwing sa mga mata kong sinikap kong takpan.

Mga alaala’y pilit na sumingit
Walang bisa ang ginawa kong pagpikit
Pumasok sa mga mata ang pilit na winawaglit
Kaya’t tumulo pa rin ang luhang kay pait.

Sugat
Ang puso ko ‘ata ay may sugat
Humahapdi pag nasaling ng alaala ng nakalipas
Kay sarap lagyan ng benda ng pangangarap
Na ako’y nasa bansang kung saan nagbuhat
Ngunit ang realidad ay sadyang kumakagat
Ang sugat ko tuloy tuluyang nagnanaknak.

Patid
Umalagwa ang damdaming pilit kong kinikimkim
Nagpatumbling-tumbling sa himpapawid ng paninimdim
Wala akong magawa kundi habulin ng tingin
Ang mga nagpasirko-sirkong lungkot sa papawirin.

Mga Kuskos-Balungos sa Pagshashampoo ng Buhok

2009-05-21T04:39:00.000-07:00

Wet the hair thoroughly.
Basain ang buhok.
Pabayaang umagos
Ang tubig mula tuktok
hanggang batok.

(Pahintulutang malunod
Mga sentimentong nagpupuyos.
Mga nagkukumawalang alingasngas
Payagan mong tumagas.)

Put a small amount of shampoo on your palm.
Ilagay ang likidong di kalaputan
Sa nanghihingi mong kamay.
Langhapin ang bangong nakalapat
Sa nakalahad mong palad.

(Ang mga alingasaw na naghuhumiyaw
mula sa umagas na mga agam-agam
ay piliting hadlangan ng bango sa’yong kamay
hayaang magbigay ng panandaliang kapayapaan.)

Apply the shampoo on your hair. Lather gently.
Ipahid ang likidong mabango
sa mga maiitim na hibla sa iyong ulo
himas-himasin ang bawat himaymay nito
hanggang mabalot ng bulang kay bango

(Marahang labnutin mga naiwang pangamba
Hagurin ang bawat himaymay ng pag-aalala
Piliting wala nang matira
Na maaaring gumambala sa’yong pag-iisa.)

Rinse thoroughly.
Banlawan ang buhok
Mula tuktok hanggang batok.
Siguraduhing walang maiiwang
Bula sa anit at saan mang sulok-sulok.

(Pakawalan ang mga negatibong bagay
Kasabay ng mga bulang bumabaybay
Pababa sa sahig na naghihintay
Hayaang sa agos ito ay matangay.)

Repeat if necessary.
(May natira pa rin bang mga latak?
Bakit ang luha ko’y tuloy pa rin sa pagpatak?
Sayang!
Ang bote ng shampoo ko’y wala ng laman
Uulitin ko sana ang nakasulat sa likod nitong paraan
sa tamang pashashampoo ng buhok kong magaspang.)

Death, Thy Servant, is at her Door

2009-05-20T06:53:00.000-07:00

The last thread of breath
Escapes from her lifeless lips
.
.
.
Then the darkness sweeps…
… the last flicker of light in her blurring eyes
… the sound of silence on her fastened lips
… the acrid taste on her tongue that dwells for years
… the last blow of kiss of humid air on her cheeks

(There comes the sound of nothingness)
.
.
.

Then…
A LOUD BANG!...

(her statue collapsed
smashed into dust
carried by the tender wind)

-she-
becomes a part of the air they breathe

(“Death, thy servant, is at my door. He has crossed the unknown sea and brought thy call to my home…He will go back with his errand done, leaving a dark shadow on my morning, and in my desolate home only my forlorn self will remain as my last offering to thee…”
-Tagore, from Gitanjali)

Nang Lumayas ang Musa

2009-05-20T06:50:00.000-07:00

Papel na malinis
Di napudpod na lapis

Salitang naglaho
Balak na nabigo

Blankong utak
Naging bakante ang pitak

Kumawala ang musa
Di tapos ang nasa

Ideyang salat
Walang nang ma'sulat

Exodus 32: The Golden Calf

2009-05-20T06:47:00.000-07:00

When there’s no strength left to endure,
She kneels down before a golden figure.
Before uttering her heart’s fracture,
Her eyes rest on its feature:

It has eyes but cannot see
Nose but cannot smell the offertory
Mouth but cannot express its feeling of pity

It has hands but cannot feel
Feet but it cannot walk on its heel.

Without uttering the sound in her throat,
She stands up and starts to leave the court.

Lover's Song

2009-05-20T06:45:00.000-07:00

Lover:
Come with me, my fair maiden,
I will bring you to Eden.
We’ll make the clouds our chariot
And let the wings of the wind be our pilot.

Maiden:
Are we going to the boundaries that cannot be crossed,
Or to the high mountain that belongs to the wild goats?

Lover:
Yea, my love!
We will frolic with the beast of the fields,
Watch the birds of the air flirt with the wind.

Maiden:
And we’ll see their nest by the river
Then listen as they sing among the branches of cypress…

Lover:
Yea, my fair maiden!
And when the day is over and it’s time for our slumber,
We’ll rest our tired bodies on a mattress of birds’ feather.

Maiden:
(silence)

Lover:
The moonlight will be our ember
We’ll lay side-by-side under the ceiling of stars.

Maiden:
The beasts of the forest prowl
Lions roar for their prey as spoil.

Lover:
Do not fret, my fair one,
My love will keep you safe and warm.

Both:
(holding hands)
Love will sustain our heart.
And tomorrow, when the morning comes,
The sun will rise and shine his flames of fire.

(singing)
La, la, la, la…
Love will sustain our heart…
Tomorrow the morning will come
And breathe his flames of fire.

HEADLINE KINABUKASAN:

MAGKASINTAHAN, NATAPUANG WALANG BUHAY AT DUGUAN SA DAMUHAN, NILAPA NG HARI NG KAGUBATAN

Rear-View Mirror

2009-05-20T06:43:00.000-07:00

... and everything is coming back to me: PNU, Normal Hell (ehem! Hall), LSC, CLLL, catwalk, BSE English, IV-11, French class, Monsieur James, Mademoiselle Gaelle, bunny holding a cookie in the moon, Reading Society, ‘bloody’, Vincent Van Gogh, Starry, Starry Nights, Vincent – Don Mclean, Sonnet 116, CTL (hatred… more hatred… forget everything)

… LET, MHCS, Ma’am Damples, Hezekiah room, GBC (enlightenment), English Department, mommies and singles, Elaine, Spongebob Squarepants, Patrick Starfish, Anakin, Tuldok (a.k.a Duke), Journalism Club, Ma’am Arlene, Sway, Phantom of the Opera, Memoirs of Geisha, Jungle Pen (a.k.a Candle Pen), hipon, manggang hilaw, bagoong, Shekinah’s Anniversary, Glorietta, Pizza Hut, bell, wasabi peas, MRT, Guadalupe Station (5 phases to acceptance: 1st: denial, 2nd: anger, 3rd: bargaining, 4th: depression, 5th: acceptance – but in every phase, there is always HOPE), Remedial Reading Program, summer classes, biometric, TOS, LOI, warehouse, Sterling, Country Style, Pancake House, granny goose, 4:00 PM, ACELT, Professor Marian, sure (high pitch), Chinese New Year, Spring Concert, ‘TeJheng, 8th April 2006, Laundromat, resignation letter (>end<)

Remembering the past is like driving your car very fast and looking at the rear-view mirror. You can see the area behind the vehicle through the back window. You can have a glimpse of where you have been to and all the things that you have passed through yet you cannot stop and go back because the car must continue to run forward for you to reach the final stop. (>end<)

... and I looked again at my rear-view mirror: passport, visa, telephone calls, my 23rd birthday, October 3, 2007, Emirates Airlines, apple juice, red wine, Panadol, Toni Gonzaga’s movie: ‘You Got Me’, Dubai, Al Madar Engineering, Al Lootah Company, Gulf Newspaper, RTA buses, Al Rais Travel, conference room, business development office, work… work… work… (then I keep driving and looking at my rear-view mirror.)

Last Song of Goodbye

2009-05-20T06:32:00.000-07:00

This night is not the same as the other nights

It is a night like this one I tried to take you out of my mind
Your face which haunted my sleepless nights

The intense feeling that mesmerized my soul lingers no more
Your memories no longer seize my soul

In this moment, you are no longer a part of me

If these will be the last verses that you can make my heart sing
This would be my sweetest melody

And if this will be the last sadness that you can make me suffer
I would endure this cry and would be satisfied

Tonight will be the final night that you are my muse

How can I not offer you this finest goodbye,
When in the past you’re the one who occupied my mind?

Though tomorrow it will no longer be the same
You will be just like the other. Like the other as I am to you

In this moment, you are no longer a part of me

Tomorrow, my thoughts of you will no longer be the same
It doesn’t matter anymore if I do not have you

You will no longer be that someone
As I hope no more to be your someone

Tomorrow, we will be the same. Just like the other

Oh, how I loved you!
How I begged the wind to whisper that to you

Those nights seemed so endless because I do not have you
My heart was not whole because you’re not with me

But this night is not the same as the other nights

And tomorrow, it will not be the same
I no longer love you. That is certain