Journeying with the Horse, Tor

Poetry by | September 23, 2012

Small steps, big steps, up we go on our journey
Tik, tak, tok, you are perspiring too
Am I heavy for you, Tor?
If I am I rattling too much
It is to forget
The pains in my back and buttocks.
I am tired, and so are you, I know.
But we need to keep moving
Now, at last! I can see the roof of the school
Come, a little more distance and we are there!
Thank you, Tor, for patiently carrying me through
This ordeal of climbing God’s mountains
Through the stony paths and winding streams
To see the vast expanse of earth
Relish the freshness of mountain air
And make my dream come true…
To be with the Lumads in Toruyan.

Reaching up, I feel God
Welcoming me in His/Her embrace.

Drops of Gas

Poetry by | September 23, 2012

Shared drops of gas
Fill up the teachers’ lamp
Solitary lamp in the night
Lighting up the whole world
From the generous hearts of simple folks
Thank You, God, for the gift of Your People
So we can go on with a lightened load.

Note: Gas is what locals call kerosene.

Early Morning in Malabog

Poetry by | September 23, 2012

Through the small window in my room,
I glimpse a bit of yellow hue from the East.
“Welcome to the new day!” says the Sun.
My spirit soars high
My heart sings songs of gladness
As the new day dawns.
My skin feels soft,
My eyes glow with anticipation
Of what this day will bring.
Will it be joy, sorrow and pain?
Or will it be a new challenge and
Fresh discovery of who I am?
It is up to the heavens above.
Mine is to open my heart
To what the Divine Power ordains.
For whatever this day brings,
It is for the greater good
Of discovering myself.
I only have to learn
To wait with an active listening heart
To the Spirit’s whispering.

Spider

Poetry by | September 16, 2012

Gossamer strings converge
Playing a sound
That can not be heard
But felt by the heart that pounds
Against a wall
A silken lair
A creature dangles in the air,
And descends, small but deadly.
The moth draws its last breath.


Ram is a 4th year BSEd major in English at the Ateneo de Davao University.

Gagamba

Poetry by | September 16, 2012

Nagising ang puyat na gamo-gamo
Mula sa sandaling idlip
Giniginaw sa hangin ng umaga

Nakikita niya ang ninanais
Sa ilalim ng kumot
Na hinabi ng gagamba

…hahalikan siya ng manghahabi
At hindi na siya magigising


Si Karlo Antonio G. David ay 2012 gradweyt ng AB Literature mula sa Ateneo de Davao University. Nakapagdalo na siya sa Bacolod at Dumaguete writers workshops.

Damang

Poetry by | September 16, 2012

Sayo pa sa buntag
ang puti ug pino nga pukot
gidayandayanan og
brilyantes nga nagsidlak-sidlak.

Sa daplin sa pukot
usa ka itom nga kalimutaw
hinay-hinay nga nagsubay-subay
ug hilom nga nagpaniid.

Taudtaod, usa ka pulang pares nga pako
nitugpa sa mga puting hilo
ug nangahagbong ang nakapilit
nga mga brilyantes.

Nagkisi-kisi ug nagkapay-kapay
Naningkamot nga makabuhi ug makaikyas.
Apan giduol kini sa kalimutaw
ug gilikosan og puting hilo.


Si Diana Jean C. Tuquib uska 3rd year MassComm student sa Ateneo de Davao University.

Purple Box, Part 2

Fiction by | September 16, 2012

For sure mother wouldn’t mind if I went to the party as sometimes she herself got home late. I didn’t ask her permission. In the first place, she didn’t care. Unlike my grandparents who’d freak out if I was late and they didn’t know where I was.

Tim’s family was not there and so he was free to do everything for his own party. Even though we were still in high school and minors, he prepared heavy drinks for us. I felt awkward seeing the girls who were invited by my guy classmates. Some of them were older than us. I felt bad for Marco for he had the least good-looking partner…

After a sumptuous dinner, we played some games. Video games, turn-the bottle, and even card games. I was enjoying myself, although I kept wondering if mother had opened the gift I had given her? Even out of curiosity?

Continue reading Purple Box, Part 2

Purple Box, Part 1

Fiction by | September 9, 2012

“Margarette? It’s 6:35, hurry, please!” my mother called out as she knocked on my bedroom door for the third time.

“In a moment…” I replied with a bit irritation in my voice.

I was still sleepy, but after hearing all the noise made by my mother in the kitchen, I decided to finally get up. I rubbed my eyes, walked to the bathroom, and splashed some water on my face. The water in the pail was cold, and I paused for a moment. If I took a bath, it would take time. So I just wetted my hair and washed my face. I had to hurry. I didn’t want to make her angry early in the morning for it was her — special day. Was it really special for her?

Continue reading Purple Box, Part 1