Poetry by Christian Jane Centina | December 21, 2008
I admit: I did it
not the witch.
I hate my suitor,
Who still lives in middle ages.
He doesn’t own a cellphone,
doesn’t know what a car is,
and doesn’t have an inkling
how to court a woman like me.
Everyday he rides on his horse
from his faraway palace up to my fortress
just to utter words of the same idea
all over again.
Continue reading A Modern Rapunzel
Sa bawat yapos
Ng lupa at yapak mo’y
Nais kong wasakin
Ang bintanang pinid sa
aking dibdib,
Ang idolong lumiliyab sa
busilak ng iyong tawa.
Handa akong malunod
Sa ningning at gulo ng
peryang
Dulot ng iyong mga mata.
Continue reading Barya
Poetry by Karla Stefan Singson | December 14, 2008
How do you give birth to beautiful thoughts?
How do you pull the stars, the ocean, and the sunset
Towards a piece of paper?
How do you convince the angels to whisper and coach you?
Or the devils, to just sit and listen?
How do you tell the pen
To write something meaningful?
Something people will look for?
Something they will tell their friends about?
How do you generate colors from a black-inked pen?
How do you write with a smile in your voice?
How do you match the right words?
How do you summon the nicest punctuations?
How do you arrange everyday expressions
To form a symphony?
How do you liven up a dormant heart,
A dead emotion,
An indifferent soul?
How do you write a poem?
—-
Karla Stefan Singson is a 4th year Marketing student and the president of the debating club of the Ateneo de Davao University.
Poetry by Myan May Declaro | December 14, 2008
A canopy of dark clouds
hovers above the city
like an old newspaper
covering a dead body.
Another victim
of the Davao Death Squad.
It never fails.
I see other headlines of death,
a barangay official ambushed,
an innocent citizen stabbed to death
while falling in line
to buy two kilos of NFA rice.
Media men being harassed.
It never fails to rain
in the afternoon or at night
the way people never fail to fill
the city’s square,
men of different ages and from different classes,
men seeking the company of others.
And then when it rains I wonder,
Does the greasy man in black ever sleep?
Does he ever drink coffee?
Does he ever like the rain?
—-
Myan May G. Declaro hails from Surigao del Sur and is currently a senior BA English – Creative Writing student of UP Mindanao.
Poetry by Gutierrez Mangansakan II | December 7, 2008
gimingaw na ko sa davao
sa baho sa durian,
sa kahumot sa barbikyu sa
delongtes,
sa kalami sa ice cold beer sa bakbak,
c5, taboan…
gimingaw na ko kang
marissa,
na nagsuroy og maruya kada
alas tres sa hapon –
gisum-ol na ko
sa potato chips,
“hastang parata!”
sa kagahi sa bagel
na gipalit sa bruegger’s.
Poetry by Edgar Bacong | December 7, 2008
Puta ang turing ko sa syudad
sa mga sandaling kinukumutan
ng kulay abo ang kalangitan.
Nagmemeyk-ap ng maputlang ilaw
upang ikubli ang mga bitak at dungis
ng bawat edipisyo, iskinita’t kanto.
Nagsusuot ng mga karatulang
bumabakat sa mga panindang
nangangako ng kaluwalhatian.
Poetry by Dominique Gerald Cimafranca | November 30, 2008
This is the curve of the cheek
that I once explored with kisses.
This is the cave of the mouth
where I once blew in breath
whose wetness I tasted.
This is the hillock of the nose
where I once rubbed my own
on an idle summer day
when we ran through the fields.
These are the wings of the eyelids
that fluttered to life
at my slightest whisper.
These are the pools of the eyes
into which I lost my soul.
Now a distant country, only
half-remembered.
Poetry by Vanessa Arellano Doctor | November 30, 2008
I want
to understand that
without falter
the sun will give way to the moon
no matter its fury,
and night will open up to day
no matter its calm.
I want
to memorize you
so when you choose to forget,
as is the nature of things,
I can continue to pretend
I have kept you.
I want
to temper the sun,
ignite the moon,
and finally find room in your heart –
so you will never have to look
for anything else again.
Continue reading There are some things I want to do, but still haven’t