Pabitin

Poetry by | February 13, 2016

Between earth and sky,
I am a small child.
I cannot reach the skies.
I see clouds of cotton candy,
crispy snacks, stuff toys
and bags of candies
hanging near the ceiling
which I try to grab,
along with other children.
It is a silly game of catch:
everytime the frame is lowered
a little above our heads
only to be lifted again
while we dance around in circles.
I push myself to heights,
but the things I want
are taken by other hands.
(The cord puller should give in
to my demands!)
I wish father is here to carry me
in his strong arms, to a height
where I could simply reach
for the things left
in the wooden lattice-framed ceiling.
If I can’t get
a single snack, stuff toy
or cotton candy
I would leave
to where I am free to eat
the ripe fruits I can reach
from my favorite guava tree.


Luisa Pasilan is finishing her thesis, a collection of poems, to complete a BA English (Creative Writing) at UP Mindanao.

The Farm

Poetry by | November 29, 2015

This will be yours, you said,
yours and your sister’s, though not
grandly, only as a matter of fact.

Five hectares of fruit trees sprawled
before and around us, paths
stamped through grass from

decades of walking, which you
were doing slow now but expertly.
Behind you, I swore and scratched

at cuts weeds scythed across my
shins, pausing only when I saw fruit
bruising on the ground,

wind and rain plucking them
from branches that would have
fed them sweet.

Such a shame, I said, but this
you only shrugged at. At sundown
the trees were fractal, the farmscape

a teeming code my urban eyes
could not probe, but I loved this strange,
living land and love it still

because you—gray-headed,
sure-footed—were on and within it,
as a matter of fact.

for Dad


Charisse-Fuschia “Peachy” A. Paderna finished high school at the Stella Maris Academy in Davao City and college at the Ateneo de Manila University (AB in Philosophy). Her poems have earned her the Ateneo de Manila University’s Loyola Schools Award for the Arts, and more recently, her collection “An Abundance of Selves” won first place in the 65th Don Carlos Palanca Memorial Awards for Literature in Poetry category English Division. She is currently based in Manila, where she works as a communications consultant for the Department of Budget and Management.

The Poem

Poetry by | November 29, 2015

It speaks where your world is:
the bending moan of a train speeding off,

your mother’s whistling in the kitchen.
It moves in the stories unknown to you,

the ones that escape your possession:
a war removed from you by decades,

a shrub blossoming in another country,
a letter unanswered.

It rises too, by the thousands,
from men and women lush with words,

here and there releasing their bodies
to a new language, a new

eloquence for ways of living
otherwise discordant.

It occupies song and silence,
the interstices from breath to breath.

It is born of thought aching or joyous,
of the quickening verb that is you.

Kaisog

Poetry by | November 1, 2015

ni Anna Akhmatova, gihubad ni Macario D. Tiu

Nasayod ta unsay anaa sa timbangan    
     karong taknaa
Ug unsay nagakahitabo karon.
Ang takna sa kaisog naghapak sa atong
     mga orasan
Ug ang kaisog dili mobiya kanato
Wala kita mahadlok sa mga bala
Wala kitay gibating kapait nga walay    
     atop sa atong mga ulo
Ug amo kang ipatunhay, sinultihang  
     Ruso
Ang gamhanang pulong nga Ruso!
Amo ta kang ipanunod sa among mga
     apo
Gawasnon, lunsay, ug luwas gikan sa  
     Kaulipnan
Hangtod sa kahangtoran.

Pebrero 23, 1942, Tashkent


Si Mac Tiu usa ka Carlos Palanca awardee ug National Book awardee. Nagatudlo og pagsulat ug katitikan sa Ateneo de Davao University ug University of Southeastern Philippines.

Alunsina takes a walk in the rain

Poetry by | November 1, 2015

It is difficult to miss you in the summer, your voice written all over the clear night sky, the stars mapping out your single instruction: go home. Each night, I keep my eyes on the shadow of my open umbrella. I stay indoors, stay away from the windows.

Today, the news tells me you are scheduled to be lonely. I part my curtains and look up.

Later, when the roads turn slippery with your sadness, I will put on my shoes, soak myself in your tears. It is difficult not to miss you when the evening sky is speechless, when your silence travels down my cheeks, like a request.

I cannot forgive you. That day, if you had not refused, I would have given you a present. I would have carved my love in stone.


Conchitina Cruz is an Assistant Professor of the University of the Philippines Diliman. “Alunsina Takes a Walk in the Rain” first appeared in her book of poetry collection, Dark Hours, which won the 2006 National Book Award for Poetry.

Si Alunsina milakaw nga gapasingulan

Poetry by | November 1, 2015

translated from the poem by Conchitina Cruz

Lisod mingawon nimo sa ting-init, ang imong tingog nasulat sa tibuok nga katin-aw sa nagabhian nga langit, ang mga bitoon naglaraw sa bugtong mong panugon: pauli na. Matag gabii, akong tutokan ang anino sa gabukad nakong payong. Nagpabilin ko sa sulod, nagpalayo sa mga tamboanan.

Karong adlawa, giingnan ko sa balita nga gitakda kang mingawon. Akong giwiwi ang mga tabil ug naghangad.

Unya, inig ang kadalanan modanlog sa imong kaguol, sul-obon ko akong sapatos, ihumod ang kaugalingon sa imong luha. Lisod dili mingawon nimo kon ang nagabhiang langit maamang, kon imong kahilom mopanaw sa akong mga aping, sama sa hangyo.

Dili tika mapasaylo. Kadtong adlawa, kon wala ka nagdumili, hatagan unta tika’g gasa. Ako untang ikulit kining akong gugma sa bato.


Si John Bengan nagatudlo og pagsulat ug katitikan sa Unibersidad sa Pilipinas Mindanaw. Nagpuyo siya sa Dakbayan sa Dabaw. Unang napatik kining hubad sa Kabisdak (http://balaybalakasoy.blogspot.com/).

Near

Poetry by | October 25, 2015

The full moon was above us.
You pointed out my flat, round nose
and I became love’s worst enemy.

At least we both have huge nostrils;
there is no need to grab a leaf
from the nearest acacia branch
for its scent
to linger
(unless it surrenders to gravity
and freefall like your eyelashes).

Aren’t you nosy
about me?

Often, I give you glances
while you give reasons
for people to recognize a joke
or maybe a piece of fiction
by loving me

I looked down
welcomed by my belly
before the Amphitheatre grass.

Everything inside me has been heavy.

There is fear
in feeling how fine
it is
to leave my lips
and how
it is not
to leave all of me.

Here,
you did the unbuttoning for me
when I needed it.

You asked me why
I lit up
only the spaces between my craters
and told me
the sun is just taking a rest
and not troubled at night.

Answers are distant.


Andrea D. Lim is a mass communication senior at Silliman University. She is the current editor-in-chief of the Weekly Sillimanian. She believes that coffee made her fatter.

No take off

Poetry by | October 4, 2015

Kung ang sadya ay matayog na paglipad
Kasingtaas na sana ng agilang malaya
lumalanghap sa halimuyak ng biyaya.
Ngunit pasanin lang talaga sa kanya’y nagdadala
Kaya ‘di maisulong kahit kaunting distansiya
Ang mga gulong na nasa putik ay nakabaon na ng dekada
Matagal na sana nalasap sarap ng himpapawid
Wala na sanang pawis ang tutuyuin ng hangin
Ngunit piloto’y lumalala ang pagsisinungaling
Na napili lang dahil sa tamis ng dila.
Damit ay kasing-kulay ng tanghaling ulap o kay pino
Tuloy bagsak parati ang lipad ng ating eroplano.
Kaya si Pepe tila’y hanggang pangarap na lang
ang pagsakay sa sasakyang patungong kaunlaran
Sapagkat walang makuhang matuwid magmaneho
Sa sakayang kay tagal ng dinasalang sana’y magbago.


Salle is a part-time college instructor and full time government employee.