Must we go unrepentant?
Must we go with soft knees,
idle hands, and dry eyes
guiltless of
the raw throbbing in our chests?
On Apathy & Zombies
Poetry by Jannies Shyne S. Briones | January 19, 2026
Category: Poetry
4-21-21
Poetry by Jehan B. Bimbas | January 12, 2026
At dawn, Baba stirred me from sleep,
his voice a careful knock on my heart:
You must visit your Ina.
It trembled softly,
like clouds gathering behind the sun.
Guilt rose in my chest—
I had not bathed her as I vowed,
and seven days had passed
since my eyes last met hers.
Tsokolate Ka
Poetry by Bryan Emmanuel Bugas | January 12, 2026
Tsokolate ka. Pero ang bigat mo, talaga.
Sa una, tamis lang ang ginakita ko—
init ng hapon na hindi nanunugod,
ngiti na sige’ng maghintay.
lamok
Poetry by John Rey T. Gaballo | January 12, 2026
maingay ang lamok sa
labas ng kulambo
tinatangkang pasukin ang
kalayaan sa loob
alam niya ang nakaambang
panganib
pero nagpupumilit pa rin
siyang pumasok
para lamang makasipsip
sa katawang humihilik
dahil kung habang buhay siyang
mananahimik
walang mangyayari.
Si John Rey T. Gaballo ay nilalang na inukit sa pusod ng lungsod Heneral Santos. Nag-aaral siya sa Mindanao State University- General Santos City (MSU-Gensan). Nagsusulat siya ng mga tulang umiikot sa sarili, karanasan, at pagwasak sa nakasanayan.
Madonna and Child
Poetry by John Gilford A. Doquila | December 22, 2025
They looked at each other
and kissed each other’s cheeks.
Peace be with you.
Their eyes were beaming with love.
His hand wrapped around the other man’s waist
as they sang the hymn.
Lamb of God, have mercy on us.
The mother caught her son staring at them.
Lamb of God, have mercy on us.
She gently tugged her son closer to her.
She kissed him on his forehead
and whispered,
Isn’t love a beautiful thing?
He nodded and joined the chorus.
Lamb of God, grant us peace.
The air in the cathedral felt cool.
The angels carved on the ceiling
finally free.
The saints praising His glory.
And him, crucified with his own cross,
was relieved from agony.
The mother wiped his son’s swelling eyes
as he sniffled and kissed his mother’s cheek.
To love is never a sin, his mother said.
John Gilford A. Doquila is a graduate of the BA English (Creative Writing) program of UP Mindanao. Presently, he’s teaching in one of the IB World schools in Kuala Lumpur, Malaysia.
Fireflies
Poetry by Jevin Astillero | December 22, 2025
We barely see fireflies now.
But here in the city, they’re everywhere.
They are the colorful logos of fast food chains
and the windows of inns and hotels.
They’re moving on busy streets
in different sizes and hues.
They’re inside big malls
just taking their nap inside
the smallest bulb that the big structure is selling.
They’re in the eyes of the little Badjao girl
who passes by the wide LED light
installed in the heart of the city.
They’re in the filthy creek – wings and body
bended here and there by the breathing of the
waters.
They’re suspended to every pole blanketed
by the incantation of the gnats and midges.
They are shattered— scattered in the sky—
and had existed before things were named.
They’re everywhere; lingering,
Learning the language of the streets.
We barely see fireflies now
But here, here in the city—
They are everywhere.
Jevin Astillero is a writer and a recent MA Panitikan graduate from MSU-Iligan Institute of Technology. He loves language and literature and dreams of championing regional voices someday through his writings.
Kawon
Poetry by Al-jhamier U. Mosib | December 22, 2025
Su lukës ta i nagayun
Apiya di ta galiliyag
Apiya di ta pakaulalëng
Na da lëkita a ungangën.
Namag su kabamaluy sa lëkita
Uway na niyapan a mailay ko sëka
Mana aku manuk a di pun bamitas
Muna pan sa wata a di mataw mëdtas.
Saguna na pëdtindëg ta sa hadapan nu Tuhan
Manguda su mga pamikilan
Bagibi si dalëm
Lagid di gaanup su lalan.
Migkalëbug i kapëgkailay ku
Sabap ku mga lu
Pakailing sa pulangi sa Pikit
a di pëndëgka i kabagukit
Banalus–
Bangilay sa gadsabpan.
Taliman ka niya i kulis
Apiya maibped pa su mga lu migis–
Sabap ku simba
Sabap ku agama
Na da manggula. Continue reading Kawon
Dakbayan sa Sabaw
Balbacua diri
Kabaw-hinalang ngadto
Mga giabog nga paisano
Paghigop ang gi-ari
Mao kini ang Dabaw
Dakbayan sa Sabaw
Lagpad nga dalan
Kapingis sa pag mantinir
Pirti pang laplap sa mga engineer
Dayong busina sa baratong borikat
Ngisi gamay, gakos sa asawa’g anak.
Kamot nga mangumot sa hanggaw
gahulma sa dakbayan sa sabaw.
Ang boang nga gatiniil,
gitiunan og pusil.
Ang buotan nga ikaw, imbis
magpalambo; magpatubo
susama nalang sa pulis.
Dayong human sa adlaw
pil-on na ang bughaw
‘nya diha sa unahan:
mantikaong sabaw.
Higop, amaw.
Ikaw gipakatawo sa Dabaw,
Ang Dakbayan sa Sabaw.
Ang oyok nga nahilis
sa ibabaw sa tubig nga kaniadto tin-aw
karon mas lami pa sa dagat
kay ang iyang kaparat
‘di ra gumikan sa asin
‘duna pa’y tunga sa kilong bitsin.
Mao na, pahong
padayon la’g higop
imong mata tabuni
sa gasebo nga yahong.
Bahala’g hunghongan kana og,
“hunong!”
Mao mani imong tuyo bitaw
muburot, mu-tiurok, ug malanag sa kalami
sa balbacua, bulalo, ug pares
nga ang kaledad di jud malalis
Mga bulawan sa Dabaw,
Ang Dakbayan sa Sabaw.
Kuda Bux (b. 1991) crawled out of the concrete spill of Talamban. He’s been running around aimlessly, chasing approximations of whatever art is—scraping together near-zero-budget productions under Corner House Productions, feverishly dreaming up scrap videos, junk stories, and other peculiar accidents. These days, he rolls through the streets and mountains of Mindanao.