Category: Poetry

Hawking Radiation

Poetry by | June 24, 2024

i.

There is a black hole
within you, at the event horizon
of which is where your mind

resides, as a death’s-head
hawk-moth to
a colossal fire whirl.

Devoured tablets, as well as
offered kind words
and acts, light the surface.

Stale eyes wrench away
from licking infinite distances.
Ears gulp sounds.

Stapled lips split
into a grin. The thought
of ashes ceases.

The space-time at the event
horizon curves into
itself, and all forms of light

that are sponged up
in this black hole’s vicinity
orbits the curvature.

The gravity is so strong
that the resurrected
crust’s brevity becomes quicker

than a sneeze. How can
I escape this dark prison?
you might ask.

 

ii.

In 1974, Hawking
discovered that black holes
slowly emit radiation.

The tail can be untangled
from the snake’s mouth.
The black hole’s

gravitational pull
is inversely contingent
to its mass.

Michael John Otanes is a writer based in General Santos City. His works have appeared in the Philippine Daily Inquirer, Rappler, Philippines Graphic, and Santelmo 3, among many others. He was also a fellow of the 2018 Davao Writers Workshop, the 61st Silliman University National Writers Workshop, and the 30th Iligan National Writers Workshop.

Love in Little Forms

Poetry by | June 10, 2024

Love in the Air

An aroma seeps in
through the door gap
with a kick to senses and she
roused to vague consciousness
where soft whirls of flavor conquers
her four corners, her room,
and the door opens
with a greeting, a burst of smells
an amalgam of—
spice, fried garlic, and onion,
then a beckon, “Let’s eat.”
Smiles form on both faces and she
slowly ebbs into a replay of,
imagined sizzling, popping of rice
bathed in soy sauce and sesame oil,
added with minced meat and chopped leeks,
and these—
all known, tasted, and a favorite,
prepared all for her to savor,
to start the day
with a full stomach,
and a full heart.

Bandage

Frozen still I stand
and with a tone so cold and stern,
she said, “You never learn”
and along her sigh, the wind
breathes and flows
through the windows
sunlight leaks, revealing
steady eyes and brows narrowing in,
as a swab and dab of cotton on skin,
so supple and smooth,
a sharp and musty scent produced.
Her rough hands, they hold gently
moving ever lightly and slowly,
a contrast from the angry flow of reds
plop plop plop, on the bed.
Frozen still I stand,
her grip still on my hand
and the wind blows a little stronger
and the curtains, like waves of the sea
allow shadow and light playfully be,
as they cast their shades
on her face, I glance once more,
her eyes different from before,
a hint of anger, no—worry, I see
as white strips of cloth, wrapped around,
she said, “Go and take a rest”
with a tone so cold and stern,
but the bandage, securely placed
feels so warm.

Andrey Jane P. Caridad is a graduate of Bachelor of Arts in English (Major in Creative Writing) from the University of the Philippines Mindanao in the year 2018 with a latin honor of cum laude. She currently resides in the Minahasa Utara region of North Sulawesi, Indonesia. She teaches English to first and second grades in the elementary section of Manado Independent School.

Sea Glass

Poetry by | June 3, 2024

We are shards washed onto the shore.
Where do we come from?
Nobody knows exactly. Maybe
from a drinking glass slipped
out of a child’s little grip,
or from a smashed bottle of red
after a broken off engagement,
or from an honest reflection shattered
by the clenched fist of body dysmorphia.

Brokenness reduced us
enough to be discarded to the sea.
And so, we cut the water’s rough skin.
The undertow cradled us downward
and into violent ocean currents,
rolling and tumbling in the churning waves.
The odyssey rounded off our sharp edges
so that we never cut a loving hand.
Broken by man, but we were refined by nature
until the upwelling lifted us up to the shore.
There, we fit like perfect puzzle pieces,
drank the light of countless suns and seven moons
then shone it back to the world until
the hands of the riptide claimed us back.

And we will ride another current again
that leads to new shores
where we will meet new weathered pieces.
Maybe we will meet again. Maybe not anymore.
But just in case nevermore, remember
that we shared the same sun
and we shared the same storm
because we once shared the same shore.

Christian C. Castronuevo is a Sagittarius and a Turbulent Mediator (INFP-T), currently in Davao City, a creep in Ecoland mouse-eating at 7-Eleven, no permanent address, pays rent, and earns money for the next flight.

Ang milinya gisuta

Poetry by | May 27, 2024

Mangingisdang way bangka,
Mga mag-uumang way guna,
Syorbol sa lista
Diez mil, bugas, paypay, ug uban pa.
Kuko di kyutiks, buhok deplantsa.
Selpon pay imo, mga branded,
Pareho ang kolor sa sanina.
Aha man kunoy nabuktot ug ginuna?
Namuypoy ang kamot binira sa pukot way kuha?
Sumala, biyo ragud adtong bagsakan,
Tawn, ang mga gakagidlay,
Nangyawat, nangkulong okra, talong buslot, saluyot nga nagkulismaot, mahalin.
Naa anang balisbisan naghanig ug karton,
Nanag unlan ug buyot,
Nagabalukot ug panaptong buslot.
Way alamag sa linya,
Way natiting diez mil, bugas ug unsa pa diha.
Gani, wa masihid sa lista.
Apan mao kadto sila,
Ang nangyawat,
mao-mao rang abot sa yuta,
namasin mahalinan,
ang kanunayng hangyuon,
bugawon, pagalabyan,
gakamuritsing, nagkurog ang tiyan,
naga ampo, makasapi,
baligya mahalin,
makapalit ug asin, bugas, ug maka buenas, delata. aron sa pagsawp sa adlaw, may madawdaw,
aron pag hikyad sa hapin,
balunon sa kahinanok
ang pamasin,
kabag-uhan,
kaharuhay,
ug paghatag nila’g bili
sa atong katilingban.
Nga unta sa sunod, sa linya mahisulod.

1. Giuklab

Giuklab ang taklob sa kaganina rang alas-singko sa kadlawng nilung-ag,
Ug gihakop sa kubalong mga kulamoy ang namidpid nga mumbo ug dukot anang ngilit sa lubot sa kalderong putol ang kawo.
Maoy gi pares sa nabiling bahaw ang mga tinalagtag nga nanga punggung ulo sa sinugbang bulad-tamban.
Sanglit, nangita ang dila ug parat nga maoy maka tuklod sa hagashas nga kan-un.
Ang katulo gibahin nga usa ka paketing kape, gibubo anang tasang tipak, gikutaw, apil ang duha ka kutsarang pulang kamay nalukop ug atitod.
Sa iyang tutunlan, nagsumpaki ang katam-is ug kaparat.
Naghulat molugdang ang tinagiktik nga tulo ka kumkom nga pagkaun sa naghilab nga tiyan.
Dayo’g lukot sa dahon sa lumboy, gitabako.
Ang bulhot sa aso, naka tigaw sa makanunayong talan-awon sa udto:
Ang panglunhaw sa bag-ong dinarong yuta, ug ang padayong pakigbisog sa abuhong natad sa dakbayan.
Kay bisan sa adlawng ipagpahulay, gihikaw ang nihit nga diska

Hermi Matunhay Dico teaches Humanities and Culture and Arts Studies courses at the MSU-Iligan Institute of Technology. He was a fellow to the Cultural Center of the Philippines’ Production Design and Technical Theatre Management Training Program; the Iligan National Writers Workshop (INWW) for his works in Cebuano Poetry; SulatDula Playwriting Workshop in Xavier University; and the University of San Carlos’ Faigao Writing Fellowship. Some of his balak were anthologised in Dagmay, Mindanao Harvest 4 and the Proceedings of 17th INWW. Two of his one-act plays were staged by the IPAG in 2017, 2021, and 2023 respectively where he was also a fellow of TranSRIPT, a Playwriting Master class in 2021 and 2023.

Disgrasyado

Poetry by | May 27, 2024

Kaniadto, pirmi gyod kusniton
ni Nanay akong dunggan kay
disgrasyado kuno ko. Pananglitan,
ang tanke de girang tarak-tarak

sa akong maguwang, natangtangan
og mga ligid samtang ang iyang
power rangers kon dili mawad-an
og mga tiil, maputlan og mga ulo!

Unya ang akong mga baraha
sa Yu-gi-oh, mga lastiko, ug uban
pang mga dulaan sama nila Batman
ug Superman, kon wala nabiyaan

sa eskuylahan, gikawat sa akong
mga silingan? Kinsay nasayod?
Bitaw, adunay mga butang nga
gawas sa atong mahimo kay bisan

nasayod na akong unod sa kahapdos
sa usa ka kusi, bisan nahurot na
akong kusog sa matag ayo sa mga
naguba ug pangita sa mga nawala,

dili masabtan sa akong mga
ginikanan nga ang ilang anak,
bisan disgrasyado, dili usa
ka disgrasya.

Ivan writes from Davao City.

Aquaflask

Poetry by | May 27, 2024

Kainit…..Kagin-ot…..Kauluhaw,
ang ginawaslik sang adlaw.
Sang ginlabay ko amon uma sa babaw.
Gataraktak ang balhas nga daw,
luha sang maya nagatuhaw.

Matuod nga ang alagyan kakahuyan,
mayad bitbit ang maramig nga tubigan.
Nalipay sa balos sang sinuptan,
handomanan kag akon mapuslan.
Ang aquaflask akon gina ginahalungan.

Ginpuno ko sing matig-a nga tubig,
para pagtungab ko palang sang iya bibig,
mabatyagan ko gid ang kalamig.
Sining init nga daw gapanglawig,
sa akon lawas nga nagakirig.

“Sang akon abrihan kag tungabon,
nga-a, wala nasulod ini kung imnon?!”
Giinom ni manghod wala naglisensya sa akon,
ang kainit kag kauhaw akon antuson,
kay marayo pa ang irimnan nga bubon.

Matt Ronnel R. Soterno is a college student from South Cotabato, Mindanao, Philippines.

Ang Maya nga Naluyag sa Palay

Poetry by | May 20, 2024

Gapamuyayaw ang mal-am
Ara duman ang maya

Ginaubos ang gisabwag
nga palay sa iya uma

Bisan ano ka tabog,
gabalik ini. Gatinusik

sa duta sang mangunguma
Naluyag ang maya

sa gisabwag nga palay
Kada lagson, maglupad

Kada dapo, lagson
Gipagwaan sang baril

Wala na may naglupad
Wala na may nagdapo

Natanom ang maya
upod sa naluyagan

Upod sang palay sa uma
sa duta sang mangunguma

Ruben III Castañares is a native of Tacurong, Sultan Kudarat, a multicultural city in Mindanao’s core. Last year, he released “Mga Gisulat sa Gabi,” an independent zine, at the 2023 SOX Zine Fest. He was also published in Sulat SOX for the piece “Isa ka Adlaw sa Kabuhi ni Junior.” His work “Slam Books are Memoirs” will be published in NAGMAC’s ANTINOSTALGIA this April and “Ulan sa Payag” in TLDTD’s 7th Issue on August. He served as the Interim Chairperson of Manug-isa: South Cotabato Writers Association (2016–2018), the Editor-in-Chief of OMNIANA, the Notre Dame of Marbel University’s official student publication (2015–2017).

Sagwan

Poetry by | May 20, 2024

Sagwan…sagwan…sagwan…saan ang daungan?
Tila, ayaw ng alon humupa, sa walang hanggan.
Sinasamo’ng gabing, may luhang umuulan.
Pagtangis, at pagmakaawa, sa sinag ng buwan.

Nag-iisa’t, sumasagwan sa agos ng madilim na karagatan.
Humihiling, sa sumasayaw na bituin, sa kalangitan.
Ang langis ng lamparang, unti-unting nawawalan.
Kumpas ng liwanag, ituro ang mahiwagang lagusan.

Himig ng pagsumamo’y, narinig ng kapalaran.
Sa wakas, natatanaw na ang paraisong, gintong kaharian.
Ngunit bakit maraming hukbong sundalong sugatan, at dugoan?
Sapagkat, may-iilang duwag na makipagdigmaan.

Takot dumaong sa misteryong natagpuang dalampasigan.
Hanggang kailan, magiging malaya sa bangkang sinasakyan?
Hanggang saan, sasagwan, ang mga palad na nahihirapan?
At hanggang kailan, maliligaw sa sariling kanlungan?

Naghihintay ang halimuyak ng tagumpay sa dulo ng daungan.
Saan man makakarating ang bangkang sinasagwan.
Hindi kasalanan ang gumanti ng tiyaga, at panindigan.
Kung naging sakim ang pagkakataon, sa mandirigmang lumalaban.

Matt Ronnel R. Soterno is a college student from South Cotabato.