Sa Pagitan ng Kahapon at Ngayon

Play by | December 6, 2009

Panahon: Gabi. Sa kwarto. Sa isang bayan. Dalawang matanda. Sila na lang dalawa ang naiwan sa bahay, sa kanilang sariling bahay. Ang mga anak nila’y nag-sarili na rin at nakapag-asawa na. Isang panahon sa isang sulok. Sa isang takdang panahon.

Mga karakter:
Lola Eneng (tipikal na matanda, ang damit duster na may long sleeve na nakasapaw at may belo para sa lamig)
Lolo Iniong (tipikal na matanda, naka pajama, naka sando at t-shirt sa loob at nakasapaw ang polong suot; may salamin at may dalang tungkod, at may tuwalya sa balikat).

Unang maririnig ang plawta pagdaan ng 16 counts. Papasok ang gitara (16 counts). Nakapwesto na si Lola Eneng at Lolo Iniong sa gitna ng entablado. Ilaw naka-dimmer lights, spot light (yellow at blue) over the head ang ilaw. Pag middle light na , makikita na sila ng tao. Maguumpisa na sa pagtimpla ng kape si Lola Eneng.

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Home

Poetry by | December 6, 2009

As I lie on my bed, I remember
the carved wooden door I used to bang
when I’m outrageously mad at someone,
the heavy narra chairs I used to kick
when I tried to tame my lazy brothers,
that long soft sofa I used to sleep in
during those long cold boring afternoons,
that comfortable bed I woke up in
early in the morning,
the big airy house full of noise,
that white house I used to sneak out of,
that is now the most sentimental place
I long to go back to and never leave again.

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Playground

Poetry by | December 6, 2009

I was there again,
In the river where we used to play with my friends,
The water from the cave beside it was still clear,
But the river looked different.
I thought something strange had changed.
For the last years it was still playable,
We had even spent time soaking our bodies in it.
But now floating on it were crumpled toiletries,
empty beaten cans,
and rotten skins of coconut and pomelo.
From the bridge already rotten,
Naked children jumped off, just like we used to.
The splashing sound of water reached me,
But it doesn’t feel cool anymore.
I shuddered at the thought
of the water pinching my skin.
I woke up from my sleep
And took off my headphone,
Wishing I had a better dream.

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Panaad

Poetry by | December 6, 2009

Panaad kanako
nga gaksun ko nimo sa hugot
sa mga buktong luwas ako
diin makabatyag kalinaw
ug makalimtan ang tanan.

Panaad kanako
nga sagupon ko nimo
ug padayunon sa gambalay
sa imong hunahuna
dayon sa kasingkasing
lahos sa imong kalag.

Panaad kanako
nga subayan ko nimo
sa dalan sa way sukod
ug samang kalipay
diin mawagtang ang
handumanan sa kagahapon
sa paghulat ug pagmahay.

Ayaw tuod ko pakyasa
diin kaniadto napakyas ko
kay ako nakahukom na
nga dugmukon ang talikala
sa akong kalibog
nga nagpitul sa akong
kagawasan.

Karon ako manaad usab
nga panggaon
ug amumahon ka sa labaw –
butang nga wa nako
nabuhat kaniya.

Dili ko mabasol
ang mga rosas nga
gibalibad ni Alyssa
nga maoy nagtukmod
kanako sa kahimtang
kung ang pinitik mao
nang imong gugma.

Alang kanila
dili man kini angay
apan maangay ra kini.
Salig lang kanako
ug diha usab kanimo
ug sa atong mga panaad

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Kung Paano Maging Kaaya-aya Ang Pangingibangbayan

Nonfiction by | November 29, 2009

Magdadalawang dekada na ang inilagi ko sa labas ng bansa. Madalas kapag narinig ito ng mga di pa lubusang nakakakilala sa akin ay kaagad silang maghihinuha na mayaman na ako. Kumbaga, sinusukat nila ang naipon kong Swissfrancs sa tagal ng paninirahan ko sa Switzerland.

Sa simula, naaasiwa ako sa pahayag na ito. Subalit sa pagtakbo ng panahon ay sinasakyan ko na lamang ito’t inaamin na totoong mayaman ako. Iyon nga lang di sa pera kundi sa mga naipon kong karanasan bilang isang migrante. At ito ang nais kong ibahagi sa aking mga kababayan. Di lamang sa mga naglalayon na mangibangbayan kundi gayundin sa mga nananatili sa bansa sa kabila ng karalitaan. Bukod pa, ilang beses na rin akong tinanong at tiyak patuloy na tatanungin ng mga bagong saltang Pilipino sa Switzerland, tungkol sa kung paano maging magaa’t kaaya-aya ang pangingibangbayan. Kaya minabuti kong isatitik na rin ito.

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One small step to a giant goal

Nonfiction by | November 22, 2009

Comota is a barangay in La Paz, Agusan del Sur. Located 30 kilometers from the poblacion of La Paz, it can only be reached by walking or riding a banca or a motorcycle. When I was assigned there as a classroom teacher at Comota Elementary School in August 1999, what immediately struck me was the poverty of its inhabitants, composed of some 700 Manobo villagers and a handful of Cebuano families.

Poverty was due to inadequate family incomes that were worsened by the peace and order problem. The area was also frequently visited by floods that destroyed many of the crops during the La Niña phenomenon. For a teacher to be assigned in that place was, indeed, a challenge!

I taught 14 students from the Grade Five level and 36 from Grade Six. After a month of teaching, I got fairly acquainted with them, their parents and the barangay officials. One time, I was invited to attend the session of the barangay council and had a talk with the barangay captain and some councilors. From them I learned that each household owned several hectares of land, each of which was not fully cultivated. Almost 90% was still timberland from where they got logs as their source of living. This supplemented whatever they got from fishing and hunting.

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Science Fiction

Poetry by | November 22, 2009

I wish to live with you on a planet
at the edge of the universe. Earthly
houses, their pestilence of weed and gnome
have tired me. I wish to uproot
myself from them as quickly as I would mute
the screens of this black and white world
of Di Caprio and Winslet. Titanic
towers and princesses – the same entrapment,
the same frame, the graven
images we are meant to idolize.
I wish to live with you on a planet
at the edge of the universe. Where we constellate
the zodiac of our fates
and the geography of our feet.
And the Sun? The Sun will be an alien,
a distant star we shall point out one night
and say: It took billions of years for that light
to reach us. The Sun must be dead by now.
I wish to live with you on a planet
at the edge of the universe.
And there, where strange is now home
I can finally say to you this, this, this:
Only in your hands, stellar yet familiar, light
hands will I dissolve
and die.

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Pagpadu’ng sa Jolo (Sakay sa Gamay’ng Eroplano)

Poetry by | November 15, 2009

Layo ang pamalandong sa mata
Samtang naghuwat sa airport sa Zamboanga

Karga ang bug-at nga bag
Puno ug bisti ug mga pulong sa asawa nga mga tambag

Ang camera, computer ug mineral water,
Daghang papel, gisuksok sa pikas bag nga di-zipper

Hantud nanawag na ang laki’ng taga Seair
Boarding na ang eroplanong 19-seater

Dayun sa su’od, sa gamay’ng bintanang palingin dayun modungaw
Ug bisan sa kaigang, maminsar pag-usab sa katuyuan ug laraw

Mahunong lang sa pag-andar ug pagtuyok sa makabungog nga tapiraw
Arun molupad sa padul’ngang gibantuga’ng kulba’g kuyaw.

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