Poetry by Mark Darryl Caniban | September 28, 2008
Gabi’t ang kulisap lamang ang tanging
Umiikot sa lamparang nagngingingas sa tabi ng baul.
Hinipan ko ang alab nito’t
Napawi ang ilaw sa apat ng sulok nitong kwarto.
Tanging ang ilaw ng buwan ang sumisilip
Mula sa mga butas ng kawayang dingding.
Gabi’t ang at ingay ng hilik mo ang tanging
Pumupuno sa dampang tahanan ng ating pag-ibig.
Continue reading Asawa ni Jose
Poetry by Floraine Asirit | September 21, 2008
As I sit here beside you
I realize how our lives are enmeshed
intertwined like our hands now
That when you’ll let go
My hand can still scratch, hold, touch
do what hands normally do
but it will always grope for yours
Seek your sweaty palms
Miss it’s warmth
Feel empty with the spaces
in between my fingers which
your long tapered fingers
with dirty uneven nails usually fill
—-
Floraine is an industrial engineer, MBA student and aspiring entrepreneur. You may visit her blog at floraine.blogspot.com.
Poetry by Floraine Asirit | September 21, 2008
For the losses I made in favor of Larios
For the nausea I got from seeing your face almost everywhere
For the earache I got from hearing your songs
For actually finding myself humming Para Sa’yo (Last F*cking Song Syndrome)
For being popular and filthy rich
For that Jose Rizal ‘do
In the spirit of crab mentality
For lack of anything better to say:
I hate you!
—-
Floraine is an industrial engineer, MBA student, and aspiring entrepreneur. You may visit her blog at floraine.blogspot.com
Poetry by Gabriel Millado | September 21, 2008
(in memory of Dr. Norberto Navarette Jr.)
“—the uh,”
spoke the math professor
lying on
his deathbed, his cancer
spreading on
his head.
“Uh,” he said, now losing
memory, “the value of—
uh—is
not fixed: trans-
mutes…” His colleague
listens on, and in
sympathy he understands
that words
are just our means
of holding
down indefinite values.
Come to say
goodbye, a last problem
to solve,
he finally finds the value
of x (the elusive
variable) in the lapses
between
the dying man’s words.
Gabriel Millado is a BA in English student of UP Mindanao.
Poetry by Najim Guinomla | September 14, 2008
A poem in Magindanaw and English
Di ka dan muna saguna ulan, di dan muna saguna
Su mga ulyang nengka na pakasamok sa kabagigitung ko.
Katawang ko na mapasang su kabedtago sa mawag a kanggiginawa
Way na anun mambu su kabeb-pangagi ko?
Kapakay ka kemisek sa matanog way na sakali bu
Angu edtanggit ka sa kawagan sa mga mawag a taw a madsumbak nengka.
Way na bangenin ko bo sa reka, di ka dan muna saguna
Ka bagimasaden ko pen i galebek ko
Endo so maystra ko na di yakunin pasangan.
Poetry by Agnes Miclat-Cacayan | September 14, 2008
afternoon sunlight
trysts with unexpected rain
blue bed bursts colors
dragonfly now rare
reminds me of the green fire
lurking in those eyes
crimson and golden
petals carpet my garden
sweep not struggle not
winding jutting through
window pane opening vine
curls to me its song
dirt waste filth the earth
takes all into her bosom
gives back fragrant blooms
Poetry by Arian Rey Tejano | August 31, 2008
(After Girl by Jamaica Kincaid)
Never wash your clothes. Let your older sister do it. You can only help fetching water from that well. Cook the food you like; not the food you want your boy friends to like. It’s good to walk barefoot and shirtless under the sun; the heat makes you tan. Never shave your pubic hair; shave only the beard and the mustache. Don’t pluck your eyebrows. You’re not joining a pageant. Never go to the market unless you look for a new pair of rubber shoes. But don’t look for Hello Kitty bags; you are no longer a kid. But I don’t like Hello Kitty. Never bring a basket unless you accompany your mother. Never let your younger sister ask you to do the dishes; scold her. You are older. Never sing Celine Dion’s songs before your friends. Don’t pout your lips. Pucker it if you are silent. Continue reading Boy
Poetry by Roselle Jimeno | August 24, 2008
kay ang gimingaw bungol
sa mga panghasi sa kawatan
inig abot sa kagab-ihon
para lungkabon ang kaldero
nga dukot ray nahibilin.
ang kawatan ibusdak-bagting-bu-ak
ang kaldero (nangliki ang salog).
pero ang gimingaw dili makamata
kay siya bungol–
nabungol sa iyang kaugalingong paghagok
hagok hagok hagok hagok
hagok
hagok hagok
hagok hagok hagok
hagok sa damgo, hagok
ngadto sa pikas kalibutan.