Category: Poetry

Lady Octopus

Poetry by | October 19, 2026

Inspired by Hokusai’s The Dream of the Fisherman’s Wife (1814)

She yearns for the sun
to hold its breath
and brace the current
above the sea floor
where kelp is a long strand of hair
lurching in the great depth of briny waters
she deems unforgiving like sweat
when dusk reaches oblivion
she dreams of shore and coastal sand
thereafter the tides and their sea foams
then the fishes over the reefs
then the sea grass on the sea bed
she remembers what was taken
yet she dreams of mollusks and shells
like a clam to its pearl
or a barnacle to the anchor
the waves take the form of an octopus
which tickles the heart of her own pacific
like how a touch is to the skin
the gold is to the chest
the gust is to the monsoon
and the blue is to the ocean.

John Mark G. Parlingayan is from Polomolok, South Cotabato. His works have appeared in Sulat Sox, Cotabato Literary Journal, Anak Sastra, KITAAB International, Philippine Daily Inquirer, and the Philippines Graphic Reader. He was a recipient of the Graphic Salute Award at the recently held 2026 Nick Joaquin Literary Awards. A finalist also in the 2022 Blue-White Dot Short Story Prize, his short fiction, “The Thumb Sucker,” was included in the anthology The Pathbreakers and Other Stories, published in Malaysia.

Metamorphosis

Poetry by | October 19, 2026

Laid upon our eyelashes
is the beginning of eternity.
A cluster of memories,
heaped fragments of imagination, fading eyes,
moths adrift in light, fireflies swallowed by darkness,

thorny stems of roses —
and there, in a single moment,
every fiber of our being was woven.
Our shadows vanished.
A threat etched into our palms,
or into the silent signal
of our spine and soles.
Blessed are we slaves,
mocked by the terror of fickle fate.
We are butterflies.
And before long, we too will surrender
to the sweetness of it all
and return again to the beginning —
to the dark chain of the womb,
and be born again as the likeness
of our former life.
And afterwards, we will once more be lured
by the sweetness of honey and the purity of flowers.

Leonel Quillo is a Mindanawon poet raised in Cebu. He is the Content Producer of Liwayway Magazine. A poet and filmmaker, he currently resides in Intramuros, Manila.

Reasons for Leaving

Poetry by | October 19, 2026

If it were sinful to leave one’s hometown,
we would all be sinners when we escape
the places that raised us,
where we first memorized the bends,
the ins and outs of every street,
dreamed to become someone
we barely understood as a child,
and learned to love without expectations.

We leave and betray the cities
that taught us to wipe our own tears
and wash off our bruises
whenever we fell off our bicycles.
We leave and carry our past mistakes,
disappointments, fears, and heartbreaks,
and pray to bury them somewhere.

If it were sinful to leave one’s hometown,
Caloy would be a sinner, too,
when he left Cotabato for wider skies.
It’s only a five-hour bus ride away,
yet two years have passed since
he last went home.

Here, he resides in a white concrete
apartment, a quiet space for devotion.
The soft foam bed lets him sleep
without other warm bodies
pressed against his, without the noise
of his neighbors’ karaoke
that wakes him at night.

Here, he can truly be himself.
There is no need to pretend,
to lower his voice to sound
as deep as his father’s and uncles’,
nor does he have to fear getting caught
watching two male lovers kiss
on his favorite TV series,
the way he used to hide in their bodega.

One hundred forty-five miles
to forget their empty pockets,
to forget home even for a moment.
Back in Cotabato, a cacophony echoes
through the dilapidated plywood walls
and patched iron sheet roofs.

From the siren-like cries
of his two-year-old brother
who begs for another bottle of milk,
to the ear-splitting screams of his mother
after a night of his father’s loss in sabong.
She fumes across an empty dinner table,
a helpless howl for her children
who probably dream of fried chicken
and spaghetti in their sleep.
If it were a commandment of God
to stay in one’s hometown,
Caloy would accept immorality
as the price of leaving
for the promise of relief.

He harbors his old hopes and dreams
as he takes to the road
through crests and steep slopes,
hoping the journey
leads him closer to the
horizon

Mark Lhoyd D. Tampad is a creative writing student at the University of the Philippines-Mindanao. When not staring at his unfinished readings and half-written poems and stories, he enjoys watching different genres of films and rating them on Letterboxd.

 

 

Exodus

Poetry by | October 19, 2026

I.
Dumduma ang pagwagtang sa mga sala.

Dumduma ang mga salbahe
nga nagpahilak sa’to tungod sa ilang
mga pait ug baliko nga pangsangyaw.

Dumduma ang mga lider sa’tong tinoohan
nga miluhod sa mga sapatos sa politiko.

Dumduma pud ang mga armas nga mikanta
sa ngalan sa Ama, sa Anak, ug sa Espiritu Santo
kon naay manambit og Ya Allah

Ug tanan santo ug propeta karon mosyagit
ug AMEN niining tanan.

II.
Unsaon nato mahimong instrumento
sa manunubos kon kita’y nagpuyo
sa sulod sa bulawan nga baka?

Unsaon nato paghigugma ug pag ampo
nga na’wa na ang mga rason sa’tong byahe
padung sa arka sa kasabutan?

Nakatog na ta sa kanindot sa mga kanta
nga gibuga sa’tong mga dalunggan… (pagmata)

III.
O dakbayan sa mga sayop
o dakbayan sa mga nindot nga kanta
ig-ampo mo kami.

Atong iselebrar ang mga bulok nga prutas:
o siya nga muhigugma sa aton
o siya nga mu-aprobar sa aton—
wala ta kabalo.

Dumduma dumduma ang pagwagtang sa mga sala

IV.
Atong ikompara ang mga kaugalinong mitolohiya:

Ingna ang imong mga igsoon
ipakita sa imong mga igsoon
ang mga sala nga nahimong bulak
sa imong pagsibat

Jeff Raiven C. Iway writes from Cateel, Davao Oriental.

Unsaon Pagkita og Tarong

Poetry by | October 19, 2026

Abri og dyutay ang purtahan
igo para makita tika
sa imong tinuod
nga porma.

Sa tanan nimong kahayag,
dili nila maklaro, ug tuod,
ang kangit-ngit sa imong palibot.

Adunay kalasangang gubot
sulod
sa imong pagpakabuhi.

Pero hinuon,
natural ang kangitngit.
Walay tinuod nga kahayag
kon walay musabwag niini

gikan sa akong mata.

John Vincent L. Pon, 21, is a budding writer from Santa Cruz, Davao del Sur, and a recent fellow of the Davao Writers Workshop 2026. Most of his work explores grief, love, and observations from his hometown.

dyutay lang ang maangkon

Poetry, Uncategorized by | October 19, 2026

Mao ni ang akong maangkon
sa maong umaabot na puhon;

Akong maangkon ang kadagatan,
akong maangkon ang kalupaan,

akong maangkon ang kabukiran,
akong maangkon ang kahanginan.

sa kadako sa maong kalibutan,
mamugna ang kamatuoran,

sa kalipay sa maong pagsulay,
lunlon kasakit nuon ang naangkon.

Maong unsaon ni sa pagkamatay,
kung saktong lupa lang maangkon

ra intawon niining ginagmay.
Dili na magmahay, di na magmahay.

Sherwin L. Aporbo, known by his pen name “Balak Ajan,” is a poet, writer, and Licensed Professional Teacher from Surigao del Sur. Graduate of Bachelor of Secondary Education major in Filipino, he is the author of BIGKIS: Isang Antolohiyang Hinabi ng Puso and a co-author of several literary anthologies. His works have received recognition through the Dalubhasa Award, Rio Alma Award, and Tula Táyo 2023 of the Komisyon sa Wikang Filipino, inspiring him to continue writing and contributing to Philippine literature.

kon ngaa may ara sang kalamay nga pula

Poetry by | October 19, 2026

sa mga silingang tindahan ubay ubay nagkumbitay
minudong pinutos nga kahiubos halin pa sa negros
kada kutsara sang katamis sa ila mga pangandoy
amo aton ginakutaw sa adlaw adlaw nga kapait
tani kada huyop kag suyop mo sa imo pamainit
matilawan mo man ang dugo sang mag uuma ka tubo
kay kon namit man lang gali tuod ila to nga kabuhi
ngaa pati mga pispis to kag kikik ganilagsanay
sa mga gapanglupok kag gatarabog nga mga bala
dumduma tanan to nga nangadula idalom sang duta
kay amo na kon ngaa may ara sang kalamay nga pula

 _________________________________________________________

Francis Kyle Madas is a BA in Literary and Cultural Studies student at Mindanao State University – General Santos. In this universe, Francis is constellated with literature as their cosmic purpose.

gyotaku

Poetry by | October 12, 2026

Sa damlag, mobangon na sab kong
gihangop sa imong pahumot.
Manamilit na ang atong panit—
nangpilit, nanglambod
niining mahuyang nga higdaanan.
Hinaot pasayloon mo ang kalibotan
sa iyang apuradong dagan.
Dili tanang butang mahisama
sa lab-as nga banak nga gipalit nato
miaging semana. Sumala pa sa imong nabasahan,
saphigan og tinta sa mga mananagat
ang kinadakuang isda nga gipamasol.
Ipatik sa katsa. Ipanghambog
ang nabingwit, kay ang handurawan
sa umaabot mopanas, waswason
sa mga sulog sa atong pagkalimtanon.
Maihap ra usab sa akong tudlo
ang mga gutlong motapot ning gugma.
Mapasalamaton kong gisaw-an ta
kining yam-is nga kabuntagon.
Sa dili pa ta lamoyon
sa hinaganas sa matag-adlaw,
ipatik ko ang imong paghinanok
sa akong panumduman.
Itugyan ko ang kahidlaw
sa akong panit sa imong katsa.
Bukotan ko ang kahuyang
sa imong lawas og habol
habi sa mga buot kong iingon.
Ug dili na kita tun-ogan sa kamingaw
samtang gaandam kong molakaw.

Si Clint Jovial Delima usa ka fourth-year BA English (Creative Writing) student nga nagtungha sa University of the Philippines Mindanao. Nahimo siyang fellow sa 2025 Davao Writers Workshop, 2025 Cagayan de Oro Young Writers Studio (CDOYWS), ug 2026 Bathalad Sugbo.