Frostbitten Apathy

Poetry by | July 18, 2010

What’s in our aircon classrooms
that convinces you that
the blood in your veins is blue?

The coldness makes you half-frozen
thin layer of flaking skin
wrapping your meandering tenderness.

Move. Why don’t you move?
Wipe the mists from the window pane;
mists like tears held back.

Wipe the mists, wipe the tears.
Beyond the windows
is the dying race of the living.

—-
Paul Randy Gumanao is a BS Chemisty student of Ateneo de Davao University.

Pakopyahin Mo Na Nga Ako

Poetry by | July 18, 2010

Pakopyahin mo na nga ako
– Matuto ka nang makisama –
Sige na, huling beses na ‘to

Lahat na nga ay nasa iyo
‘di mo pa kayang magparaya
– pakopyahin mo na nga ako!

Syet kasi ‘tong teacher nating ‘to
Wala namang silbi ‘tong quiz niya-
(Sige lang, huling beses na ‘to…)

Sige ka, at kasalanan mo
Kung hindi ako makapasa!
Pakopyahin mo na nga ako!

Believe me, ‘tol, kahit ayoko
Requirement na pati kumopya
(-kaya nga huling beses na ‘to…

(…Amin pa kaya ‘tong buhay na ‘to?
Basta, tapos na ‘to mamaya…)
– Pakopyahin mo na nga ako
talagang huling beses na ‘to.

—-
Karlo Antonio David is a 3rd Year AB English student of Ateneo de Davao University.

Translation 101

Poetry by | July 18, 2010

kung patabukon nimo ning balaka
sa pikas sidewalk,
dunay mga pulong nga muagi
sa pedestrian, o musaka sa overpass.
dunay mag-jaywalking,
dunay mudagan
aron di matapsingan
sa nanglabayng dyip.
dunay magpanaganag tabok,
dunay magpaagak sa batang buotan.
apan duna puy maligsan
tungod kay nagdinangag.

mabalian, mapulpog, mapidyat.

kung palayaton nimo ning balaka
patabok sa pikas pangpang,
siguro dunay makatarog tugpa,
dunay makatabok apan mapandol
o madalin-as ba kaha pagtupa.
dunay mapiangan, mapangos.
dunay igo ra makakapyot
sa sagbot nga nanurok
sa tumoy sa pangpang.
apan dunay di kaantigo mulayat.
maong kung pugson
nimo sila og tabok

matagak sila
diretso sa ilang lubnganan.


Gratian Paul R. Tidor is an AB English student of MSU-IIT. He was a fellow of the 17th Iligan National Writers Workshop.

Hatsue

Poetry by | July 11, 2010

(the girl of Snow Falling on Cedar)

I could hear the coal burning
in the potbellied stove,
While you’re reaching
for my hardness
and found it beneath
the fabrics of my shorts.

The country-and-western
music grew louder,
As we moved closer,
Putting your chin against
my head, holding my ears
between your fingers.

Continue reading Hatsue

Rebyu

Poetry by | July 11, 2010

Ilang araw na akong nagkukumahog   
Sa aking rebyu, urong-sulong ng gulong   
Ang pag-usad, habang ang lumang orasan   
Nakaismid, walang humpay sa pagbulong   
“Maghapon kang walang puknat sa kaka-chat!”   

Kanina, kaulayaw ko aking Musa   
Ngumiti’t bantulot na ako’y yakapin 
Nang ako’y napabalikwas, nagtataka 
May gapos ang mga kamay nang magising!

—-
Vangie Dimla-Algabre teaches in a Davao City school.

Your Breakup Kiss

Poetry by | June 27, 2010

Is between my lips and yours
And the rain that bathes us
Unprepared like your parting.
This time, the heat
And prick of fondness is gone.
Bitter like your lipstick
Marking its trace with pain, provoked
By the scent of your breath inducing
Sting to my chest, while my pulse ticks
Weak like my heartbeat. Maybe
Because they too sense that
Here in the street,
Where we first met and kissed,
You will soon leave me
Alone with the sky weeping
Over your footsteps, heavy
As the fall of rain creating
Ripples on this puddled concrete
Like how tears will drop, away from me.


Gino Dolorzo studies at Xavier University – Ateneo de Cagayan.

Loneliness

Poetry by | June 27, 2010

you sink in and inhale my hair
the smell of after-a-kiss cigarette smoke
welcomes you to a mistake.
my arms adore you
love you to the last scar.
in loneliness, anyone staying over will be just fine.
yet in love, in love i’m alone.

i live in your confusing cycle
and you live in your world-
of smokes, liquor, and satisfaction.
i bend to your expectation
until i snap, crack, and break-
into your arms.
bracing for jealousy
uncertainty,
and the end.

A Million Feet Scurry

Poetry by | June 6, 2010

inspired by “Curtain,” mixed media on canvas by Ivan Macarambon

It’s the millipede burrowing through the threads of a rug
that did it. A sign of wet weather, I’ve seen one or two
this afternoon, racing down the elbow of wall
and floor, the grout between tiles its tracks.
Where are they heading, punctual
little trains heading for a wreck under my heels,
or against the wall under the handle of a broom,
little, black, rusty nails bent in the middle
like a sloppy strike from an untried wrist?
Appointments wait in cold corners,
behind toilets, the inevitable,

Continue reading A Million Feet Scurry