Dead End

Fiction by | December 8, 2013

He leans his back on the wall, his hands gripping his gun tight. He wishes he could shoot the moon and tear the dark sky into pieces. He wants the night to end, that in the morning, he will forget everything about this, and all the nights before. He is tempted to light a cigarette, hoping it would take away the agitation he feels. Flashes of thoughts and images of people he knows, and even seemingly strangers keep pounding on his head, causing the lines on his forehead to be more visible. He throws curses into the air, almost whispers but in a profound tone.

The rules are clear. No cigarettes on the field. Don’t leave any trace behind. Finish the task as quickly and silently as you could. Focus on the target. No resignations. No spitting of information. No getting out.

He closes his eyes for a few seconds and regains composure. He knows he shouldn’t permit his thoughts to affect his assignment. He has been trained to think and feel less so he can focus and act faster to get things done. He has been waiting for Kulot to pass by the street, the same Kulot whom he never knew, but whose picture he has been glaring at every night for about a month now. He knows that Kulot has multiple records at Agdao Police Station for theft, illegal carrying of fire arms, and dealing of illegal drugs. Kulot is five-feet tall, has round eyes, dark complexion, five piercings on his left ear, and a tattoo of a skull, smiling on the back of his neck. That’s all he needed to know, as if two sentences can summarize thirty years of a person’s existence. Kulot could be a father, or a drunkard, or a rapper, or a pedicab driver, but no matter what, Kulot will be his eighteenth kill.

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At Kumbakit Ko Minahal Ang Pagsusulat ng Dagli (Part 2 of 2)

Fiction by | December 1, 2013

ang nakaraan…

III. Ibang Diwata
Dumating ako sa bahay nang palubog na ang araw. Tulad noong nakaraang taon ay hindi ko ipinaalam ang eksaktong oras at araw ng pagdating ko. Kusa na lang akong kumatok sa pinto.

“Kumusta na? Kumusta man ang imong seminar didto?” Tuwang-tuwa na bungad ni Mama nang makita niya ako. Ipinaalam ko sa kanya ang pagdalo ko sa Ikalimang Palihang Rogelio Sicat kaya hindi ako agad umuwi ng Cagayan de Oro nang dumating ako galing Saudi.

“Maayo man.”

Inabot niya ang aking bitbit na bag. “Kabug-at gud ani.” Binuksan niya ito nang mapansing mabigat at tila nagtaka kung ano ang laman.

Tahimik niyang itinupi ang ilang damit na nakasilid doon. At maingat niyang inilabas ang ilang kopya ng aking libro. Matagal niyang pinagmasdan. Sintagal ng mga panahong ginugol ko upang mabuo ang isang pangarap. Ang pangarap na makapagsulat at makapag-publish ng sariling aklat.

“Sakit naman intawon ning akong mata. Unsaon na lang nako ni sa pagbasa sa imong libro?” Ang nawika niya habang binubuklat ang hawak na aklat.

Continue reading At Kumbakit Ko Minahal Ang Pagsusulat ng Dagli (Part 2 of 2)

The Weekend

Poetry by | November 24, 2013

It seems like a lifetime
ago since I last had
the weekend all to myself.
And that includes every
Friday afternoon that went

unspent on cheap spirits,
and strangely riotous porn.
Instead, there is always
work. These days,
there is always work,

or a phone call, or a lover.
It seems like I have grown
heavier since I last enjoyed
dinner, or excessive
sleep, or a lonesome run

in the morning. Only
the alarm clock keeps
me quick on my feet
these days. Even when
I wake up on the wrong

side of the bed, I roll
out with enough patient
alertness. There are
absences I have yet
to offset as always._


Allen Samsuya is a creative writing major from the University of the Philippines Mindanao. He is not a porn star, yet.

Bangon

Poetry by | November 24, 2013

Maraming naanod na bahay.
Kasingdami ng mga nawasak na buhay.
Lupang dating sagana sa likas na yaman.
Nagmistulang isang malawak na libingan.

Niragasa ng baha ang buhay na nananahimik.
Binasa ng ulan ang mga batang walang imik.
Nilamon ng dagat ang bawat pangarap.
Nawalan ng silbi ang bawat pagsusumikap.

Sa pagkakadapa ay muli nating ibabangon.
Mga bayang nasalanta’y iaangat sa pagkakabaon.
Nangangaylanga’y tutulungan natin ngayon.
Upang kaginhawaa’y makamtan sa madaling panahon.

At Kumbakit Ko Minahal Ang Pagsusulat ng Dagli (Part 1 of 2)

Fiction by | November 24, 2013

I. Sir Ruel
Matapos ang apat na taong pamamalagi sa Saudi bilang OFW ay ngayon ko lang din mami-meet ng personal ang ilan sa mga taong naging bahagi ng aking virtual world. Sa Multiply at lalo na sa Facebook.

Lulan ako ng taxi papuntang UP Diliman. After lunch hours daw ay nasa nasabing unibersidad si Sir Reuel.

Naging online mentor ko siya. Isa siya sa tagabasa at nagbibigay ng mga komento sa aking mga akda. Sa katunayan, sa kanya ko unang narinig ang salitang ‘dagli’. Na ayon sa kanya, ang uri ng aking mga piyesang may anyong naratibo, mas maiksi pa sa maikling kuwento, o mas malapit sa vignette ay nasa pormang dagli. Flash fiction kasi ang nakasanayang itawag ko sa mga blogs ko noon. Doon kami nagsimulang magkaugnay bilang isang baguhang manunulat at isang itinuturing na mentor sa panulat.

Sinipat ko ang aking relo de pulso. Tamang-tama ang oras ng aking pagbisita. Tila isa akong anak na matagal na nawalay sa kanyang ama. Nag-aalangan sa maaring sasabihin nito. Nag-aalala sa maaring kahinatnan ng aming pagtatagpo.

Continue reading At Kumbakit Ko Minahal Ang Pagsusulat ng Dagli (Part 1 of 2)

Shaken and Stirred: The Adverbum Writers Retreat in Palawan

Nonfiction by | November 10, 2013

ShelllsTwo days before I was to leave for Palawan to join the first Adverbum Writers Retreat in Palawan, a 7.2 magnitude earthquake hit Central Visayas at past 8 in the morning. Soon after, social network newsfeeds were filled with initial images of the destruction it wrought. Later, television news programs provided more details. It broke my heart to see the ancient Baclayon and Loboc churches destroyed, but even more distressing were the number of human casualties. The earthquake was also felt in Davao City, but to a lesser extent, and with no reported damage. Still, I couldn’t help but feel anxious to leave my two children for a week to do something entirely for myself.

It was a palpable anxiety that I had been feeling since I learned about the retreat. Last July, I received an invitation to the writers retreat from Almira Astudillo-Gilles of Chicago, who organized the retreat to provide established writers with “time and space for creative work.” On October 17 – 22, I was to join Jose “Butch” Dalisay, Ed Maranan, Ricky de Ungria, and Juaniyo Arcellana in a private and secluded villa in Sitio Bobosawen, one and a half hours by road from Puerto Princesa City. With no mobile signal whatsoever, a two-kilometer stretch of coastline, and a view of the mountains, it did sound like a perfect writer’s destination.

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2013 Davao Writers Workshop Fellows

Events by | October 14, 2013

dww2013 poster

The Davao Writers Guild is pleased to announce the fellows to the 2013 Davao Writers Workshop:

 

Poetry

Frank Lloyd de la Cruz (Davao)
Stephanie Gonzaga (Valencia, Bukidnon)
Vivialine Q. Salve (Davao)
Siverlyn Maghinay-Camposano (Digos)
Richard Moral, Jr. (Koronadal)
Glaiza P. Jimenea (Davao)

 

Fiction

Zakiyyah Sinarimbo (Davao)
Jeffren Pancho Miguel (Davao)
Jon Kristoffer Pizarro (Butuan)
Prescilla Dorado (Davao)
Jelly May Malatabon (Davao)

 

Creative Nonfiction

Bianca Beatrice C. Adle (Davao)
Abdul Jabbar A. Marohom (Davao)
Christine Joy Salazar (Davao)
Reah Izza T. Paglinawan (Davao)

 

The panelists this year are Dr. Macario D. Tiu, Jhoanna Lynn Cruz, Nino Soria de Veyra, John Bengan, and guest writer Dr. Jaime An Lim.

The 2013 Davao Writers Workshop is organized by the Davao Writers Guild in cooperation with the National Commission for Culture & the Arts and UP Mindanao, and will be held at Lispher Inn, Matina, Davao City, from October 28 to November 1, 2013.

The workshop sessions are open to those interested to listen in and meet the writers.

When Jasmine makes a list

Fiction by | October 5, 2013

Jasmine partook of limp spicy chicken flavored Yakisoba noodles and cold pan de sal. She sat on the smooth cement floor of the sala, looking blue against the television light. On the screen, Sam was trying to impress Mikaela with his new car. No one knew what made Transformers, with its bloated running time and cardboard characters, so appealing to her. It was eleven a.m. and she had just woken up. Feeling too lazy to go out, she decided to eat anything there was in the dusty cupboard and on the round dining table. She put her plate down–her meal barely finished; reached her notebook from last semester and scribbled on the back page. Her light brown eyes glimmered as she showed what she wrote to me.

To-do List:

  • buy groceries
  • go to Kate’s (and wait for something interesting to happen there)
  • hang out with friends
  • do something
  • do something else
  • don’t panic
  • live long and prosper
  • get annoyed at self if things in this list are not done

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