Poetry by Christian Jane Centina | November 9, 2008
A cigarette butt fell from his fingers
after all the sparks, red and hot,
had been blown away
by the rush of wind.
The acrid smoke,
his mint breath,
the ashes,
together.
Then his hand pulled another stick
like the way he picked girls
threw them away
then and there.
—-
Continue reading Of Cigarette Butts
Poetry by Tita Lacambra Ayala | November 2, 2008
The chico brown feel and
scent and taste of you
keep me shamelessly honeyed
honeyed for hours after and
I can taste you even more
in my midmorning coffee,
even when you have been gone a week.
I taste you everywhere.
When are you returning from the
restlessness of our travels?
Poetry by Yul AV Olaya | November 2, 2008
Nagsalita ang mga bala
Nangaral
Natutong tumula
Namulat sa apoy
At alingawngaw na katahimikan
Sa kweba
Ng magazine kung saan
Marami silang nagsisiksikan
Kung saan ang teritoryo ay
Ginuguhit ang hangganan
Ng mga daliri’t
Gatilyo
Poetry by Nonoy Narciso | November 2, 2008
Usa ka balak-dula
Gabii na sab. Ilatag ko na pod ang banig, labi na sa bugnawng gabii, ang likod way laing ikasalig. Nangatastas na kining banig. Mikupas ug miyatyat na. Hapnigan nakog baga nga habol aron di sakit higdaan.
Isangit ang higot niining moskitero. Sa paglabay sa panahon dili ko na madali-dalig syumoy kining tali sa lansang (mokatawa). Gakurog akong mga tudlo. Ipiton og unlan kining parte sa moskitero nga nabangag aron dili makasulod ang lamok. Usahay mosindi kog katol, unya payak-on kini sa botelya. Ang aso morag panganod sa ibabaw sa moskitero, apan morag dili na madutlan ang lamok niini.
Sa dihang andam na ako mohigda, ang mabilin nga suga mao lamang ang lamparilya. Ang kayo niini morag gapirok-pirok, gakipat-kipat mora bag mapawng, nahadlok, giyaga-yagaan og gitik sa hangin nga molili ning payag.
Poetry by Jasper Nikki de la Cruz | October 19, 2008
My coffee is slowly losing its warmth,
so I dipped my finger inside the cup.
The coffee’s warmth surrounds my finger,
as if the coffee is breathing on my finger.
I circle my finger around the mouth,
cleaning all the brown-black stains.
Continue reading Coffee
Poetry by Jasper Nikki de la Cruz | October 19, 2008
Eight of us are waiting on a sun-whitened basketball court.
We’ve already warmed up and now we’re getting cold.
The game should’ve started fifteen minutes ago,
and fifteen minutes more, we’ll be winners by default.
The audience is impatiently waiting,
crowding themselves under the acacia tree,
evading the sunbeams from touching their skin,
fanning their faces with brown cardboards.
Continue reading Winners by Default
Poetry by Jasper Nikki de la Cruz | October 19, 2008
Rain like silver threads,
sweeps everything into silence.
Zinc roofs seem to be ripping apart
and the stench of the dogs is illuminated by their dampness.
Flies hovering around
twirling,
wherever my eyes are set.
Frogs are singing along with the raindrops,
raindrops are drumming the leaves of the takip-kuhol.
I watch the children
playing,
running beneath the white curtain of white veil
hanging on a clothesline.
Continue reading Rain
Poetry by Jasper Nikki de la Cruz | October 19, 2008
I want to think of something different,
different that has not been written yet.
Yet once I think about anything,
Anything goes, from birth to death, from there to here,
Here I can only think about everyone,
she, he, they, you, and I.
I want to stop thinking, because it is the same.
Same, like everyone else’s thinking.
Continue reading Anything Goes