Poetry by Karen Kae Ferraz Dicdican | October 28, 2012
It started with a spark
That ignited the excitement –
I was inflamed by what I held
As we celebrated the moment
Our flames finally flickered
In unison.
But our light was dying
Our sparklers
Have been cindered into ashes –
And the ashes
into nothing.
—
Karen Kae Dicdican is currently enrolled in Ateneo de Davao University and is a fellow of the recently concluded 2012 Davao Writers Workshop.
Poetry by Margaux Denice Garcia | October 21, 2012
No, child.
We cannot take Thina, Daimhin, and Muti with us.
They’re too big.
Just put on your Sunday’s best
and tie your hair into pigtails,
so you can resemble your dolls.
That way, you’re bringing them with you.
No, child.
We cannot bring your crayons.
Not even your coloring books or drawing pads.
They’re too many.
Just put on your shoes with your favorite colors on it.
That way, you’re treading on rainbows when we leave.
No, child.
We cannot carry your story books.
They’re too heavy.
Just hold this piggy bank while I take the safe box.
Our arms can only bear so much.
That way, we take only what’s necessary.
No, child.
We cannot tote your play tent.
It’s too big and too old.
Just like this house, worn out and hollow.
I promise, we’ll buy a new one.
Where we’re headed sells better tents.
Hurry, child.
I can see our ride in the driveway.
Dear child, why are you crying?
We don’t have time.
What’s that, child?
No, child. I’m sorry.
We cannot wait for Papa.
—
Margaux Denice Garcia, a graduate of BS Education at the Ateneo de Davao University, was a fellow of the 2011 Davao Writers Workshop.
Poetry by Karlo Antonio David | October 21, 2012
This cup of coffee
is the sadness
of your absence
Steam rising
to perfume
the sleepless void
of your absence
Smooth surface
free from the lies
of milk and honey,
refusing to reflect
memories,
or the sweetness of your smile –
mirroring only the emptiness
of your absence
And because you are gone
I have no one to drink
this coffee with
but a hundred years of solitude.
Even ants do not come
to feast on my crumbles
But even as things
cool down
I grow used
to the flavor of this misery,
soon making this habit
a ritual,
of sipping it in afternoons
Refusing
to sweeten
this bitterness
until I am as empty
as the cup
of black coffee
that is the sadness
of your absence.
—
Karlo Antonio David was a fellow at the 2011 Iyas Creative Writing Workshop, and the Silliman National Writers Workshop which was held in Dumaguete.
Fiction by Christian Conrad Rivera | October 21, 2012
August 18, 1992. Saturday. 12 noon. Matt was still in his office preparing papers for an upcoming conference. Despite the lunch hour, Matt was still hard at work… as always.
Ever since he moved out of his father’s house, Matt has always been preoccupied with business. He believed that in order to grow as a person, he had to learn to provide for himself. He needed to secure a high degree of respect and position in his chosen profession. And to earn such status, he had to work diligently all the time, every time.
This did not please his family. Matt’s family believed that relationships matter more than work. For how many years, this had been the major issue in their family. His father always warned him to change his perspective or it will affect him negatively in the future. Matt’s younger siblings also disapproved of his way of thinking. In the end, there was just too many arguments and misunderstandings, which finally culminated in Matt becoming estranged from his family.
Fiction by Nina Landicho | October 14, 2012
“Wait!”
He half-ran, half-walked towards me. A lot of people were coming out of the classrooms at that time, which made it easier for me to pretend not to hear him. I turned away to hide my face from his scrutiny, but felt him grab the tip of my loose blouse’s sleeve. I smiled inwardly. I did not realize that this small physical contact could make the cold September day suddenly warm.
“May I walk with you?” he asked.
I walked faster. I could not believe that he actually had to ask me. What would the most looked at guy want with the most scoffed at girl in school? But of course, we were taking up the same college course, and shared classes in almost all of our subjects. We were even scheduled to graduate in the same year.
“I sent you a message. Did you receive it?”
Poetry by Armando Fenequito Jr. | October 14, 2012
Ang umuusok mong init
Ang siyang umakit sa akin
Na ika’y aking tikman.
‘di baleng bibig ko’y mapaso
Mula sa iyong naglalagablab na init,
Malasap ko lang ang taglay mong sarap.
Pero dumaan ang ilang minuto
Napagtanto ko na mas malalasap ko
ang iyong sarap kung init mo’y tama lang,
Kaya mas mainam na hihintayin ko na lang
Ang sandaling pwede ka na.
Sa sandaling ako’y naghintay
Hindi ko namalayan –
Dahan-dahan ka ng lumalamig.
Pero dahil ayokong masayang ka,
pinagtiyagaan na lang kita,
baka sakaling pwede pa?
Ngunit sa aking paglasap,
Sarap mo’y nawala
Mula nang init mo’y naglaho.
—
Armando B. Fenequito, Jr. is studying at the University of Southeastern Philippines, and is currently taking up Literature.
Poetry by Dick Navaja | October 14, 2012
Katulad ng ulan ang aking pag-ibig
na may diwang nais ipahiwatig,
Kahit dala nito ay lamig,
Maipadama lamang ang kanyang ibig.
Huwag magtaka’t maligalig
Pag pumapatak ‘to sa iyong daigdig
Pagkat ito’y dalisay na tubig:
Sa tigang mong lupain, didilig.
Talagang kakaiba at walang kahawig,
Pag-ibig ko’y kristal na pumipintig;
Sa makulimlim na kalangitan, naglalawig,
Patungo sa iyo na aking iniibig.
Halika na’t maligo sa ulan –
Sa ulan ng pag-ibig ko:
Ulan ng tunay na damdamin,
Ulan ng tunay na pagmamahal;
Mula sa kanlungan ng langit
Hanggang sa pusod ng dagat
Pag-ibig ko’y bumubuhos ng awit.
—
Dick B. Navaja is currently taking up his doctorate in Philosophy at the University of the Immaculate Conception.
Poetry by Edgar Bacong | October 14, 2012
Binubuhay ako ng mga berde at puting botelya
Na natatagpuan ko sa mga bundok ng basura
Namumuhay ako sa lawa ng latak
Samantalang nagpipista ang ilan sa alak
Kailangan kong mabuhay sa mundong ito
Kundi walang tagalikom sa kalat ninyo
Sa tuwing nahahalukay ko ang mga botelya
Kasama ang mga plastik at kalawanging lata
Ay pinapaubaya ko silang maghalo
Sa isang matibay at maluwang na sako
Hindi inihihiwalay ayon sa kulay at anyo
Gaya ng pagbubukod ng lipunan sa tao
Silang mga itinapon at walang buhay
Ang umaalalay sa binabasurang buhay.
—
Edgar Bacong studied AB Sociology at the Ateneo de Davao University. He now resides in Zurich, Switzerland.