Proben

Poetry by | December 21, 2014

WP_20141005_17_36_46_Pro
Gilabnot ako ug ang uban pa,
gikan sa kinasudlan sa manok,
tapad sa batikulon,
gi-abrihan, gisusi, gikuot, ug giwaswasan,
giharinahan, giprito, ug gituhog,
tag-lima sa usa ka bikog.
Sa wala pa gilunsad,
sa bulaw nga mayor,
ang pagpahapsay sa dalan,
makita mi nimong nakalaray,
nag-atang sa mga busawang,
sama nimong,
gamulo na ang tiyan,
sa pagpangaslum sa kagutom.
Kabalo ko unsa imong gusto:
init, bus-ok, ug barato.
Ayaw og kaulaw.
Ayaw og panghugas.
Kinawboy ni nga stayl.
Wala lay utangay.
Hulbot lang og maskin singko,
daw itunol sa tindero.
Ituslob ko sa sawsawan.
Daghan kang mapilian niini:
halang, tam-is, aslum.
Andama ang palad,
sa pagsalo,
sa mutulo nga sarsa.
Kab-uta ang puso.
Lami na ipares nako.
Walay platuhay.
Dinamak ni nga stayl.
Pangitaa lang mi sa suok.
Naa ra mi sa Pabayo gatapok.

Mai is a founding member of NAGMAC (Nagkahiusang mga Mambabalak sa CDO), a community of local poets that mounts CDO Poetry Night. She is also a fellow to the recently concluded Davao Writers Workshop 2014. In her spare time, she hangs around milk tea shops and eavesdrops on people, hoping to write a play about strangers.

Like I Did, Part 1

Fiction by | December 21, 2014

It’s all I know.

“So… This is goodbye?”

No, this isn’t. No, this’ll never be. My mind started to encode the words, waiting to be spoken. But instead I moved my head to gesture a no.

I love Jasmine. I really do. She was smart and beautiful inside-out. Her eyes told me the existence of something real. Her smile promised rainbows after heavy rains. Her laughter sang melodies in the midst of my noisy life. Her touch never lets me feel alone in this lonely world. That she was there. She’d be just there.

Of all people, she understands me the most. She’s patient and uncomplaining. I receive no pressure from her. She doesn’t nag, or pester, or irk with issues big or small. But I can hear her cry in my mind, because she never cried and probably will never cry with me around.

And above all, she loves me more than any girl has made me feel, and probably no girl will ever do.

Continue reading Like I Did, Part 1

Padugo

Fiction by | December 7, 2014

Padugo“Legends say that blood allures gold and for a gold mine to be full of gold, it needs blood. But a goat’s blood is not enough.” Said the 58 year-old Mang Berto as he shared his story to his fellow small-scale miners during siesta as they rest in the Nipa hut near the Matiao River. “It needs a blood that is something pure and innocent.” Mang Berto said coldly to everyone in the Nipa Hut.

Mang Berto and his family now lives in Matiao province where mining has been the primary business and a source of profit for most people. In his early 30’s, he worked in a large-scale mining company called King Midas Mining Corp in the Gumayan province. The boss of the company, which the employees called Supremo, believed in a legend that a sacrificial ritual that involves offering of blood every last day of the month inside a mine would allure the elusive gold nuggets. During his stay in Gumayan, Mang Berto worked as a hired kidnapper and the one who executes the ritual along with other hired kidnappers. His job was instant money as the job gave him enough money to buy a small house. However, until one incident changed the course of his life.

Continue reading Padugo

Tutoy Totoy

Poetry by | December 7, 2014

Nihilak ka ug mitalidhay.
Gitukaw mo ang mga tulog
nga pasahero kay gusto ka musupsup.

Wa paka natagbaw, gikumot-
kumot mo, misinggit, miumpak
sa kahinam sa mituyhakaw nya’ng dughan.

Mihunat siya.
Milingilingi kay nagpunay ka’g siyagit.
Mikuot siya.
Nagkagidlay sa sali nimu ug hil-os.
Mihungit siya.
Namingaw ang jeep kay ikaw nahiluna.
Naulaw siya.
Gikurambos mo ang sumpuk niya’ng dughan.
Mitan-aw siya.
Mingisi ug mihunghung… “Sige totoy pa.”

Jet is a teacher at Kong Hua School, Cagayan de Oro City.

Her Words

Nonfiction by | November 30, 2014

It was two days before Christmas last year when I received a text message saying “Hi” with a smiley. The phone number was not in my contact list so it took me a few minutes before I finally replied and asked who it was.

I was surprised when she revealed she was “Dee…UPMin Arki.” I had met her in school. Someone might have introduced us and since then, every time we saw each other, we would exchange greetings and smiles. But that was all. I never remembered conversing with her or anything. She was that pretty chinita girl who was a member of the Dance Ensemble. I clearly remember that she was the frontliner in their number during our Freshmen Convocation Program.

She just wanted to confirm whom she was texting because my number was registered as “UP LitSoc” in her contact list. I told her that it was me and she apologized for causing any inconvenience. I said she wasn’t causing any. And from then, we exchanged text messages. We would text each other in the morning when we woke up, remind each other to eat meals, ask what each was doing, and late at night, we would say good night to each other.

Continue reading Her Words

The Human Heart Has No Measure: Davao Writers Workshop 2014

Nonfiction by | November 23, 2014

Davao Writers Workshop 2014There are three things I’m pretty sure writers will want at one point or another in their lives: to travel, to better themselves in their craft, and to create something worthwhile. The three are interconnected, if you really think about it. In the short time we spend on this world, it is with great skill (or with great luck) that we acquire the opportunity to gain all three at once. As for me, being accepted into this year’s Davao Writers Workshop was one of those opportunities.

Wanderlust
I had learned of my acceptance into the workshop on the eve of September 27th, exactly a month before the workshop would begin. It seemed so near and so far at the time. A lot can happen in a month. Specifically for me, it was finishing final grades for the first semester and organizing Poetry Night, a poetry reading program that our group NAGMAC (Nagkahiusang Mambabalak sa Cagayan de Oro) held every other month. The latter happened just two nights before I and co-fellow Vel Marie “Mai” Santillan, were to get on an all-night bus ride to Davao for the workshop.

Continue reading The Human Heart Has No Measure: Davao Writers Workshop 2014

Pangposas Nga Panyo

Play by | November 9, 2014

Sa istasyon sa pulis. Hapon.

Miduol si Liling, usa ka kwarintay-singko nga babayi, sa lamisa kung asa adunay babayi nga pulis. Sa iyang atubangan, adunay usa ka lalaki nga naka-polo. Gihiktan ang mga kamot sa lalaki gamit ang usa ka pink nga panyo. Gisenyasan ni Liling ang lalaki nga muingkod tapad sa ubang mga pulis nga nangape. Nipuwesto siya sa tunga sa istasyon nga nakatindog.

Liling: O, maayong adlaw mga Chief! Maayong adlaw kaninyong tanan! Siguro katingalahan para ninyo nga ania ko diri karon, nagdala ug usa ka lalaki nga giposasan nako ug panyo. Pink pa gyud nga adunay mga gagmay’ng bulak-bulak sa kilid. Mga Chief, ako siyang gipabantay sa inyo karon. Pero sa kadako sa iyang sala, dili siguro ni siya mudagan samtang ania pa ko.

Ako si Liling, usa ka labandera lang intawon didto sa Sampaguita. Dili ako ang kanang maong panyo. Kanang akong gipangposas kay gipalaba sa akong silingan, pero dili gyud nako mabalik sa tag-iya. Ang kanang lalaki sa inyong tapad kay akong ipakulong tungod sa hastang pagkapangit nga pagkapa sa piano didto sa Mintal, ug sa pag-undang ug tugtog sa tunga-tunga sa kantang “Amahan Namo”.

Pasensya, Chief. Basin abi ninyo bugal-bugal lang ni akoa ba. Pero dili. Wala nay mas ikaseryoso nga akong himuon sa akong tibuok kinabuhi. Gusto gyud nako siya ipakulong diri nga istasyon sa pulis. Bisag mga pipila lang intawon ka adlaw.

Continue reading Pangposas Nga Panyo