Category: Poetry

Lagalag

Poetry by | December 19, 2010

Hampas ng hangin ay lubhang malakas
Buhos ng ulan ay sobrang bigat
Subalit walang madamang lamig
Walang patak na bumabagsak.

Dahon ng anahaw ay humahampas
Katawan ng kawaya’y pilit umiiwas
Ngunit walang marinig na lagaslas
Kawayang payat langitngit ay ingat na ingat.

Ganyan ka sa iyong pag-iisa
Manhid at walang madama
Pinagmulan ay pilit mong kinalimutan
Kinabukasan ay pilit mong tinatakasan.

Namnamin mo sakit ng iyong kamanhiran
Tiisin mo sugat ng iyong nakaraan
At sa sulok ng iyong kaibuturan
Matutuklasan mayroon kang masasandigan.

Hindi ka nag-iisa kaibigan
Sa kamay Niya’y ‘di ka pababayaan
Minsan pa’t muli mong balikan
Buhay mong sa Kanya dapat laan.

—-
Si Ruel Soriano ay nagtuturo sa Ateneo de Davao University.

When A Lover Sleeps

Poetry by | December 5, 2010

Last night,
I dreamt of you.
Your shadow walked past
the table and chair,
weak and careful not to
wake the mosquitoes
and the neighbours.
To my dismay,
The attention I secretly lust for
went to the fridge
instead of me.
Is that how attractive
a bottle of beer is
than a lingerie (purposely powdered
with perfume)?

Maybe in my next dream,
Your legs, your mouth
and your heart would go
straight to my bed,
where it longs for you.
And only for you.

—-
Melody Ross Tinoy is a nurse who writes for a living.

City Poem

Poetry by | November 28, 2010

The city is the loneliest
      place in the world.
It is full of people
      who do not know
      each other.

—-
The Collected Poems of Tita L. Ayala will be published by UST Press this year.

small god

Poetry by | November 14, 2010

I have every material wealth conceivable-
 
A mansion in the hill, fatuous women;
A fleet of cars, fat contracts;
Cupboard brimming, fat belly;
Mile-long bankbooks, fat arthritis;
I crave for more and more and more,
Except that I don’t crave for god anymore-
 
My god is a small god, if anything at all.

—-
Elmer Sayre writes from Initao, Misamis Oriental.

Dying Young

Poetry by | November 14, 2010

And sometimes, you just feel it
because quickness, the twin of youth
can turn dark. It may come
like that. A sentence, then the period,

then space and suddenly, for a moment, your life
finds full form, in paragraphs on another paper:
you were good. Yes, you were good.
Goodness at this point is a genre,
the template of remembering.

Oh but see the body still. The body,
the body is a living book of the dead:
your cells, the syllables of generations.

So I tell you now what grief is:

a sentence forcing the spine to snap
a book shut, before it’s passed on, held
by handshakes, read out loud

by a kiss.

—-
Migoy Lizada is finishing his graduate studies at the National University of Singapore.

Sa Bula ng Beer

Poetry by | October 31, 2010


Sa bula ng beer
May nakakubling tamis
Sa bula ng beer
Ngiti ay pagtangis
Sa bula ng beer
Mundo’y higit na maganda
Sa bula ng beer
Napuno ng akala

Sa bula ng beer ibinurda
Mga yapos at pagsinta
Sa bula ng beer naniwala
Sa walang katuparang sumpa
Sa bula ng beer nakatala
Mga wikang agad nabubura
Ang bula ng beer at aking mga luha
Sa pait hindi nagkaiba

—-
Jobelle Obguia graduated with a degree in Business Management from Ateneo de Davao University.