When I remember that fisherman
walking out of our house every morning
before breakfast, I think of
how we seemed too distant, his heart,
as usual, far from my own.
The Fisherman
Poetry by Aaron Jalalon | June 15, 2008
Poetry by Aaron Jalalon | June 15, 2008
When I remember that fisherman
walking out of our house every morning
before breakfast, I think of
how we seemed too distant, his heart,
as usual, far from my own.
Poetry by Kelly Conlon | June 8, 2008
Before I nodded off to sleep at night
Mama would tell me a fairy tale —
The princess meets her dear prince…
“And then what next, Ma?’
A finger to her lips, she’d smile
“I’ll let you read the book tomorrow.”
When the sun came up
She’d point to the upstairs attic.
There, I sat on a dusty wooden floor —
The prince dances with his princess
to the sound of ten drums, violins,
trumpets, and lyres…
Downstairs, Ma and Pa danced
to the beat of angry voices, cries,
slamming doors, breaking china.
The royal couple now happily wed
Had a bonny daughter in the end…
Clambering down the stairs, I went
“They loved their princess, Ma!”
Pa slapped me very hard
“You and your fairy tales!”
Perhaps I had read the story wrong.
Many nights after,
I would tell myself another fairy tale
of a princess with a broken heart
crying silently in front of the mirror.
My story book went back in the attic, now
Covered in cobwebs, dust,
dried tears, and ghostly laughter—
Ma, you knew it would end that way,
didn’t you?
Poetry by Arian Rey Tejano | June 8, 2008
kung ako
mabuhi pag-usab
pilion nako
ang kinabuhi
sa lapis:
kay kung naa may kapakyasan,
mapapas ra kini.
kay kung mahabol man ang akong paglantaw,
mahait ra kini.
kay kung maglisud man ko’g duyog sa kapit-us,
naa gihapoy mogunit sa akong agi.
kung maupos man ko, apan dili sama sa usa ka kandila
dili ko mamatay.
kung ang kandila mawad-an ug kahayag,
ang akong kahayag mabilin
sa papel nga puno ug balak
nga mudugay pa sa pipila
ka panuigon.
Poetry by Krisza Joy Kintanar | June 1, 2008
I can hear our chicken in the backyard
following me at night
when I take her egg at day
and stares at me
I can hear this chicken following me at night
when I go inside the kitchen
after emptying the trash bin
with cracked shells sticking inside it
I can really hear the chicken following me at night
up the concrete staircase
suddenly it stops
to see if I’ll turn
to look at her.
Poetry by Alfredo Agreda | June 1, 2008
Dalawang kaluluwang naglalayag sa batong karagatan
Dahan-dahang sinusuyod ang bagyo sa ilalim ng kahel na ilaw
De makinang mga nilalang, isa-isang iniilagan
Binabatong mga titig, paunti-unting iniiwasan
Pawis na tumatagaktak, kamay na handang pumunas
Mga butil ng maalat na likidong nahawi ng maitim na hangin
Mahapdi sa mata, malamig sa balat
Hinto!
Berdeng bwa’y nagpakita at nagmamadaling tumakbo ang mga de makinang tao
Naghahabulan na parang mga batang yagit
Nag-aagawan sa kakaunting espasyo ng dagat na bato
Lakad!
Pulang buwa’y lumabas at hinay-hinay na nagpaanod ang mga kaluluwa
Nilalasap ang bawat yapak, ninanamnam ang panandaliang kapayapaan
Tumitingin sa kalangiting butas—maitim at walang laman.
Katulad ng mga sikmura ng dalawang dakilang kaluluwa—nangangasim dahil wala pang nakain.
Poetry by Guillermo Dagohoy | May 4, 2008
Dinahunog
Bong! Bong!
Kaguliyang
Ah! Singgit
Pakitabang
Sa daklit
Gidungog.
Inahang Yuta, tindog, ipataas ang imong agtang
Ang danguyngoy hunonga ug ang mga luha
Pahiri kay ania kami nagkausa, makigharong,
Makig-asdang. Ang kinabuhi among ihalad
Ang kadaogan ta laomi.
Continue reading Pahulay sa Kalinaw
Poetry by Anne Shane Baluca | April 20, 2008
What is home?
A child asked
as the sun sunk lower
into nothingness.
Is it just a place
where you can find
comfort, even with
too much rain or sunshine?
Home cannot just be found.
A shelter, yes, everyone can find.
But home is a place
Where you can find comfort,
Even if it doesn’t seem so inside.
Poetry by Henrietta Diana de Guzman | April 20, 2008
It was already late when
She came out of the
cold rain at
San Pedro Street.
Like a homeless cat
She prowled. Her
eyes illuminating
Penetrating more than
The lights around the city.
Continue reading Her Business on San Pedro St.