11:12

Poetry by | July 28, 2013

inside our pockets
is the privacy of our own stones

outside our faces are the familiarities of
our traditions

when we party
we say the same words actually
we fear
other people’s anger
we cannot afford to disappoint the
visitors of our
common faith

the usual mess will be there
part of the party you know
sometimes we let go
we let loose what is too tight in our necks
we spit what is bitter outside the windows of our
tongues

there is always time for restraint in a few glasses of
alcohol
there is a time to make our mouths shut up
tying our tongues like ropes on
the railings of the house
of civility

personally i do not like this party where we turn into
decent fools
choosing the words
afraid of the truth
always fearing that we should have broken some rules
of engagement

most of the time we deny what our hearts are looking for
cold hands clasps another cold hands
empty heads bang with other empty heads
on hollow sounds of flattery

one time i left the room where the party was going on
it was 11:10 in the evening and it became too intolerable

i need to be alone in order to be free
i imagine you and i love this atonement
when you still do not mind
how i feel

i am complicating it with so much restraint
because even if i am now outside everybody
i still retain
the decency of what is right and wrong which i always
carry around.

—
Ric Bastasa, is presently working as MTC Judge of Roxas, Zamboanga del Norte. He finished his BS Chemistry in Ateneo de Davao and Law in Andres Bonifacio College in Dipolog City.

Berano

Poetry by | July 21, 2013

Nagkahuot ang alimuot
karong udto, ug buot ko
nga matin-aw unta
ang akong hunahuna,
labi na ning panahona. Apan
ikaw nga naghigda tupad
nako—ikaw ang bugtong isla
taliwala sa nagkatag
kong dughan.
Kon dagat pa ako,
hagbay ra nahagkan
ang imong baybayon.
Bisan tuod nasaag ta
sa pagbanlas sa panahon,
mahimuot ko kon mabati mo
gikan ining tanan,
kining hapuhap
taliwala sa kaigang
sama sa unang uwan.

—
Mark “Ton” Daposala was a fellow at the 1st Xavier University Writer’s Workshop, the 18th Iligan National Writers Workshop, and the 27th Faigao Writer’s Workshop.

Crisanta Macapili

Poetry by | July 21, 2013

Beyond the shadow of Arayat, the stalks glisten in ripe gold in the sunshine

And the breeze gave it a flattering sway — seemingly sending a message coded in dance. In a week or two, the rest of the barrio including me will do the same dance in the rhythm of harvest. Dearest, the happiness of their harvest is a world away from the sadness of their planting last July.

For it was in the same rainy Sunday that a letter bearing the gobernadorcillo’s seal took you away from our humble hut to fight the Moros in the South –it took away the reason for my every breath. Unlike the harvest, I do not have the same sweet hope for any letter from you to arrive anytime soon.

I have come to accept that the saddest news would be the notice of yet another vandala and not of your unspoken pain. Tonight, as in the previous nights since you left unwillingly, I have kept you alive in my novenas as what the Agustinians advised

And just like the gilded ricefields open and yielding to the farmers,

Dearest husband, I yield the promise of your return to the will of Heaven.

—
Marion B. Guerrero was the first Manuel E. Buenafe Fellow at the 15th Iligan National Writers’ Workshop. He was also a fellow at the 3rd Western Mindanao Writers Workshop and the 1st AdZU Creative Writing Workshop. In all these events, he wrote in Chavacano. He is currently a faculty member of the Languages Department, School of Arts and Sciences of the Ateneo de Zamboanga University –his alma mater.

Brothers, Part 1

Fiction by | July 21, 2013

Indirapatra and his younger brother, Sulayman, reached the lakeside almost at the same time. The people cheered, but in a few moments, they became quiet when they found out that Sulayman’s boat was empty.

“This is surprising,” the rajah said, addressing both the crowd and his young nephews. “Datu Sulayman, the greatest hunter and fiercest warrior in the sultanate, came out empty-handed today.”

Instead of appearing ashamed, Sulayman stood in his boat with a smug look in his face. No one could guess what he was thinking.

The rajah turned to Indirapatra. “My nephew, kindly show your subjects what you have for them.”

Indirapatra nodded. He addressed the people. “It has been months now since a giant crocodile appeared in the lake and started attacking human beings, forcing our fishermen to stop working and causing shortage of fish supply. I assure you, though, that the chieftains, under the orders of my father, the sultan, are doing everything they can to have the monster killed or at least driven away. For the meantime, please accept the fish that my brother and I catch for all of you. For this day, here’s what my lucky net has snagged.”

Indirapatra jumped from his boat and tipped it over. The people gasped in surprise when a fish as long and large as the boat dropped on the sand. The fish was at least thirty feet long, easily the biggest ever caught from the lake.

Continue reading Brothers, Part 1

Gravity

Poetry by | July 14, 2013

We spent our evenings afloat under the stars,
quietly drifting across auroras. This was before
you were lonely. This was before you left
for the rest of the world. Now, elsewhere

in the atmosphere, I am afraid that I too have
grown fond of gravity, of the Earth, of the down
-ward spindrift of streetlights. Love, I am fearful
that when I finally fall, I will whisper your name
far too often, far too many times until all my breath
escapes me and I disappear completely before I hit
the ground.

—
Allen Samsuya hails from the Creative Writing program of University of the Philippines Mindanao. He was a fellow in the 2009 Davao Writers Workshop, the 18th Iligan National Writers Workshop, and the 50th Silliman National Writers Workshop.

Talimatyon / Dying

Poetry by | July 14, 2013

sanga
sa talimatyong’
kahoy
gabitay

hinog
nga buwan
padung
kutloon
sa kaadlawon

Translation

on the branch
of a dying
tree
hangs

a ripe
moon
about
to be plucked
by the dawn

—
Gratian Paul R. Tidor is a young poet and visual artist from Dipolog City. He is a fellow of the 17th Iligan National Writing Workshop 

Pag-asa ng Drug Pusher sa Davao

Play by | July 14, 2013

Mga Tauhan

FRANZ Maranan: 22, binata. Medyo mahaba ang buhok at may kaunting balbas.

GNG. MARANAN: 55, ina ni FRANZ. Naka-pusod ang buhok. Naka-salamin at may pagka-pormal ang damit.

PULIS: 40, lalaki

DDS: lalaki, mahigit 30, naka-itim na balat na jacket at maong na pantalon. Maayos ang suklay ng buhok. Magalang sa pananalita.

Mga NARS, ibang pasyente at bisita sa loob ng ward

Tagpo: Sa ward ng isang pampublikong ospital sa Davao City, takip-silim.

Magaganap ang kabuuan ng dula sa loob ng isang araw

Walang malay na nakahiga si FRANZ sa kama, walang damit pang-itaas, ngunit may duguang benda sa tiyan. Abalang pumaparoo’t parito ang mga NARS sa ward, inaatupag ang ibang pasyente.

Papasok si GNG. MARANAN at ang PULIS.

PULIS: Sa tiyan siya banda natamaan ma’am, pero wala man siya maano sabi ng doktor.

GNG. MARANAN: Asan niyo siya nakita, sir?

PULIS: Sa Boulevard, ma’am. Nakatanggap man gud kami ng tip na meron na naman diyan banda… Swerte yang anak niyo ma’am ba, patay gud yung dalawa niyang kasama.

GNG. MARANAN: Salamat, sir.

(lalabas ang PULIS)

(tititigan ni GNG. MARANAN ang binata, bakas ang pag-aalala, pagka-irita at dalawang taong pangungulila sa mukha.)

(manunumbalik ang malay ni FRANZ. Magugulat at maiilang siya pagkakita sa ina.)

FRANZ: Mang…

GNG. MARANAN: (pagod. Bubuntong hininga.) Kelan ka huli nagpagupit, ha Franz? Kapangit na niyang buhok mo, o..

FRANZ: (mapapapikit sa irita) …Asan sila papang?

GNG. MARANAN: Nasa-opisina. Si ate mo din. (uupo sa tabi ng kama. Kapos sa salita) ‘yan, ano na nangyari sa iyo?

FRANZ: (hihiga patalikod sa ina. Sa sarili) Magsesermon na naman. (sa ina) Ano sa tingin mo?

Continue reading Pag-asa ng Drug Pusher sa Davao

Call for Entries: 2nd Satur P. Apoyon Tigi sa Mubong Sugilanong Binisaya

Events by | July 11, 2013

Fictionists who write in Bisaya and reside in Mindanao are invited to join the 2nd Satur P. Apoyon Tigi sa Mubong Sugilanong Binisaya. The deadline for submission is September 30, 2013.

The story should be original (written by the contestant), unpublished (not yet printed in any newspaper, magazine or book), and must not have won any awards. The printed story must have a minimum length of ten (10)  but must not exceed twenty (20) pages (encoded using Times New Roman, font size 12 points on letter-size paper, in double-spaced paragraphs). The contest entry packet should contain the following: three (3) copies of the story; a separate paper signed by the contestant stating that he/she is the author and that the story has not been published or awarded, with the contestant’s mailing address, e-mail, land-line and cellular phone number. The entry should be transmitted to: Rene A. Estremera, U.P. Mindanao, Mintal, Davao City 8022. An electronic copy of the entry in Rich Text Format (RTF) should be sent by email to: davaowritersguild-at-yahoo-dot-com-dot-ph (davaowritersguild@yahoo.com.ph). Non-compliant entries will be automatically disqualified.

Each contestant is allowed only one (1) story as his/her entry. The criteria for judging are: Language (25%), Technique (25%), Relevance (25%), and Overall Impact (25%). The decisions of the board of judges will be considered final. Cash prizes are as follows: first prize, P5,000.00; second prize, P3,000.00; third prize, P2,000.00, and winners will be notified by cellphone and email.

This contest is a project of the Davao Writers Guild.