Poetry by Rory Ian Bualan | May 2, 2009
Ang pag-inusara dili aso nga makapahilak nga way lugar;
timan-i nga dili kini makumkom ug usahay di mahikit-an –
sama sa mga laraw ta nga di pirmi matuman…
Busa, ayaw ra tan-aw sa liki sa pwertahan kung adunay
migimaw nga kahayag gikan niini; buhia dayon ang suga
ug pahayagi imong matang nagalurat sa madugay.
Ang imong lawak dili hawla sa mayang bungol…
Poetry by Yevgeny Honrade | May 2, 2009
Bumuhos ang ulan
Isang takipsilim
Namatay si Francis M.
Sa tuktok, tawag ay Room C
Ngunit susi ay numero 303
Lumilipas ang gabi.
Di man lang patid ang umuugong na traysikel
Na laging natatanaw ni Rakel
May-ari ng hotel.
Habang si Mar at Lillian
Doon sa harapan
Nakatanaw sa hagdanan.
At hayun nga
Tapos na ang pagtunganga
May bisita galing Sanga-sanga.
Asalam Alaikum…
.Alaikum Asalam
Hanggang sa lumisan, bilin ang Sukran.
Fiction by Karlo Antonio David | April 26, 2009
If my malicious stares had been able to do him some damage, he would have fallen a long time ago…
That wall has stood there for as long as I could remember. I don’t know why, but the other people do not seem to be even remotely bothered by his presence. I, on the other hand, am driven to what one might surmise as insanity by that accursed structure of brick.
Poetry by Lyda May Sual | April 26, 2009
(After Dorriane Laux’s “The Shipfitter’s Wife”)
At dusk, after you have plowed
the vast field—grains of green
scattered beyond my vision, I will
embraceyou,clingtoyou.
Be drowned again in the incense
of your sweat, taste it like
I have never met salt in my cooking before.
Tonight—
I’ll play another wife, after the soil
which everyday you avow
to marry and toil.
Tonight,
I’ll be waiting, languid on this bamboo bed,
to be plowed—
and become whole again.
Poetry by Lyda May Sual | April 26, 2009
(For B.)
I’ve always watched in awe
the perfect flourish of your hands
and the outline of your stance
as you gracefully pushed your stick
with your firm grip
and slid the number-9 ball
into the waiting hole.
I always imagined
I was the most attractive pocket,
Yet it doesn’t seem so.
For every time you strike
the balls with your stick
you always fail
to sink it
into me.
Poetry by Krisini Nanini | April 26, 2009
you left nothing
but bitterness
on
my
lips—
perfect bliss.
Poetry by Krisini Nanini | April 26, 2009
I will chase you
with my eyes
even if you run
into the darkest
night.
That’s the only way
I can
see
some
light.
Fiction by Angeli Mari Altizo | April 19, 2009
Malakas ang simoy ng hangin kasama ng amoy ng usok galing sa mga kotse sa ilalim ng overpass. Sobrang ingay dahil sa dami ng kotseng bumubusina at sa mas maraming taong nakapaligid. May narinig akong sumisigaw. Nararamdaman ko silang lahat na nakatingin sa akin. Parang ngayon lang sila nakakita ng lalaking naglalakad sa kable sa itaas ng magulong kalye.
“Kalma lang kayo diyan… di naman titigil ang mundo ninyo kung mamamatay ako.”
Labimpitong taon na akong nabubuhay, tila iisang tao lang ang may pakialam sa akin. Hindi si Itay na binubugbog kami dahil lagi siyang lasing. Hindi si Inay na laging pinatatawad si Itay kahit laging lasing. Wala namang nag-aalala sa akin kundi si Kuya.