Ikaw Pa Rin

Poetry by | October 14, 2012

Bawat ngiti mo nagpapaalala
ng bawat panaginip at pangarap
Mukha mo’y puno ng alaala
na nag dadala sa ‘kin sa alapaap
Bawat luha’y isang madilim na kahapon
na nais makalimutan, sa isip ay dapat maitapon
Bawat alaala ay nakaraan
na bawat sakit at bawat tamis ay minsan nang natikman
Katotohana’y gusto kong limutin
and panahon na tayo’y magkalayo
Saan man dalhin ng hangin
Papadpad pa rin sayo
Oras ma’y tumigil at di na tumakbo
Isip ma’y pumurol at matuyo
Puso ma’y mahirapan at huminto
Ikaw ang bumuhay sa mundo ko

—
John Ferdinand Torralba, who writes poems in Filipino and English, is in his 3rd year as a Information Technology student at Holy Cross of Davao College.

The Soul Eater

Fiction by | October 7, 2012

Have you ever wondered what happens while we sleep through the silence of the night?

There was once a teenager who went along the halls of the prestigious Kolehiyo de San Ignacio. His name was Gin Miguel Walker, or Gin for short. He was a 3rd year student taking up BS Accounting. He stood at about 5’6″ and had a well-built slim body. He had the looks that matched those Korean singers that girls in his school fell head over heels for. But, despite these great characteristics, Gin was always a loner.

Every day, during 12:00 noon, a girl’s heart (or two) would fall victim to this superior entity; which would end in the misfortune of trying to ask Gin to have lunch together. Of course, being the loner that he is, Gin almost, if not completely, ignores this request. This type of behavior has caused him many unpleasant encounters with other guys who are envious of his uncanny charm. Once, he was beaten up badly, by the basketball varsity’s ace player. Apparently, a girl, who the varsity player had been trying to woo for 2 years, fell for Gin in a matter of 2 days.

Poor Gin. The people around him did not know the situation he was going through.

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Done

Poetry by | October 7, 2012

I walk
I try to count my breathing
and synchronize it with my steps.
It is genius, I thought as I walk
but
someone has done it.
I walk, I walk
I try to count my blinks
while I breath and I stride.
I feel contemporary as I walk
but
someone has done it.
I walk, I talk, I decide
I need to kill someone who has done it.
Kill and walk
Kill and walk
I thought it new
but
someone else has done it.
I dance, I write
I try to eat what I write
I try to dance while I eat
but
someone always has done it.
I feel small.

—
Glorypearl Dy was a fellow of the Davao Writers Workshop in 2011. She is currently working as an online content writer and multimedia developer.

The Blind and the Cripple

Folklore by , | September 30, 2012

There was a pregnant woman whose husband died. She lived in their small house alone. When she gave birth, she was shocked because she gave birth to seven baby boys. Days passed and the woman realized that all of the babies were blind, so she did everything to raise them well.

When the children were old enough, the woman told her children she would teach them how to look for food so that when she died, they would be able to know which fruits were safe to eat. The seven boys held each other’s hands as they followed their mother.

She let her children touch and get familiar with corn, sweet potato, sugar cane, banana, and other crops. Then finally, she introduced them to the coconut plant. “At the top of the tree are round hard fruits. When you open the fruit, you can drink the water and eat the flesh,” said the woman.

They went back to their hut. The woman rested because she was having a severe headache. When the children touched their mother, they realized that she had died. Since they were blind, they decided to leave their hut because they wouldn’t be able to bury the body.

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Duha ka Pulang Pisi sa Kapalaran

Poetry by | September 30, 2012

Nagtuo ko nga gihiktan tas
Duha ka pulang pisi sa kapalaran
Gikan sa akong kumagko
Ngadto sa imong kumingking
Nga kita maghiusa sa pagkita
Sa atong kalag ug kasingkasing.
Apan nasayop ko sa pagtuo
Ang duha ka pulang pisi sa kapalaran
Nahimong usa na lamang
Ug magpabiling handurawan

—
Si Michael Angelo Lopez Marquez mao ang presidente sa Union of Literature Students sa University of Southeastern Philippines.

Ang Bagtinganan ni Dodong

Poetry by | September 30, 2012

Wa pa mikaylap ang Adlaw
Mibangon na si Dodong
Aron pagpukaw sa
Usa ka gatos ug traynta-otso
Ka mga higala nga
Nagdamgo pa sa kahiladman.
Gipunit ni Dodong
Ang bagtinganan
Aron magsugod na sa iyang
Trabaho nga halangdon.
Bagting dinhi,
Bagting didto,
Aron ra jud molurat
Ang mga mata
Nga serado pa tawon.
“Let us bless the Lord”
Ang singgit nga
Imbitasyon ni Dodong
Ug sa kalipay, mitubag
Ang mga baba “And give Him Thanks.”
Ug si Dodong, mibalik na
Sa iyang pwesto
Aron mangandam sa
Iyang pagligo.

—
Si Ritzchild uska 4th year AB Philosophy student sa St. Francis Xavier College Seminary, Davao City.

Pagsuwat og Balak

Poetry by | September 30, 2012

Naningkamot sa pagsuwat og balak,
dagkong singot ang mitulo sa agtang
makita lang ang mga pulong
nga modakop sa akong kahulogan.
Nagsugat ang mga kilay sa paghunahuna.
Nanagat og inspirasyon sa lain-laing dapit,
maskin gagmayng butang hatagag bili,
Sa panghinaot nga unta ang mahimong balak
basahon sa mga mambabasa
ug makakita silag imahe, makabatig emosyon
ug labaw sa tanan, makaingon sila
nga kining suwat nimo, Doy, balak gayod!
Dili yaga-yaga sa pinulongang binisaya,
Dili ulaw-ulaw sa literaturang Bisaya,
Ug pwede ipasigarbo sama sa mga buhat
Sa iladong magsusulat nga Bisaya.

Apan, hangtod karon, pakyas gihapon.
Padayong nagtulo ang dagkong singot,
Nagsugat ang mga kilay,
Nanagat og inspirasyon sa bisan asang baybayon.
Bisag pakyas ako,
Sa ngalang taga-Mindanaw ko
Ug midako sa Tagum,
dili ako moundang,
dili gyod ko!

(Lagi. Kinahanglan gyod writing spirit.- Macario Tiu, ed.)

—
Si Reymond Pepito migradwet sa AB Mass Communications sa Ateneo de Davao University sa 2012.

Notes from the Heartland of Pakibato

Nonfiction by | September 23, 2012

20120923-210647.jpgFebruary 2004

Kibalatong is a sitio of Barangay Panialum, Paquibato District. It is a community of Ata Manobo. To get there from Malabog, you have to ride a motorbike for 30 minutes, and then, as there is no road anymore, you have to walk, in my case, for one hour to reach Kibalatong.

There is no electricity in Kibalatong, and while on a visit there in February of 2004, a boy with an empty Tanduay bottle went house to house to ask for kerosene which is commonly called gas. When he came to our hut we learned that the gas he was collecting was for the use of the teachers.
The people who shared some drops of kerosene showed their simple way of supporting the teachers and the school that was built for the indigenous children of the area. I was awestruck that from their own poverty, they were willing to share the little they had for their teachers.

The bottle got half filled and the boy gave us the collected gas which provided us light even more than enough for the night.

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