Lessons from Chess

Nonfiction by | June 29, 2008

As we watch my father’s wake, I play chess with my older sister. It’s only in times like these that I get to play the game. My classmates back in high school never wanted to play with me because I used to be a very lousy player. Last night, as I played against my sister, I only won twice in about ten games. However, I have learned things I never would have learned if I didn’t play the game.

Here are some of my insights:

Life is what you make it. This existentialist belief is very evident in the game. Your victory lies on how well you play the game. Each move you make requires decision making and your choices create an impact on your future.

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Scaffolding

Poetry by | June 29, 2008

Though you are a mature cane,
You are still grass.

How did they mount your
Pliant body

With no ropes to knot you
If sand dunes rather strengthen

Your base node
Loosely you will fall

How long can
Your suntanned body endure

The light weight
Of a ceaseless work.

By now, rootless-

Leafless,

As you are;
No more sap

And soundless breath
To fend

This Artificial
Growth.

Ang Hangin at Kahel na Lampara

Poetry by | June 29, 2008

Hipan mo ako hangin ng iyong hiningang kay lamig
Kasabay ng iyong laway na tumatalsik sa aking pisngi
Ibig kong malaman mong ako’y nag-iisa
Walang kasamang kumain sa gabing kay lanta
Tabihan mo ako hangin, h’wag kang matakot ‘di ako titingin
Kunin mo ang kutsara at tinidor
Dahandahanin mong ubusin ang nasa iyong harapan
Ibabalin ko ang aking mata sa kahel na lampara…

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Mga Mama ug Mga Papa

Fiction by | June 22, 2008

Nag-away na pud si Anna ug ang iyang Mama, maong sa coffee shop siya nagtambay. Ang hinungdan ang iyang pseudo-stepfather. Nahibal-an man gud ni Anna na magpakasal na sila. Nagdagan-dagan pa sa utok ni Anna ang tubaganay nila sa iyang Mama samtang naga-order siya sa counter, hangtud paglingkod niya sa table dapit sa bintana sa shop.

“He makes me happy! Nganung dili man na nimu makita? Ug nganung dili man na nimu masabtan?”

“Happy? Happy ka na mabawasan imung love para sa akoa tungod sa iyaha?!”

“You know that’s not true anak!”

Continue reading Mga Mama ug Mga Papa

Ang Babaye Inig Alas-Saes / Si Manong Inig Alas Kuwatro

Poetry by | June 22, 2008

Ang Babaye Inig Alas-Saes
Ang kamingaw sa kabuntagon
Sugaton sa mahait nga singgit
Taginting sa dunggan
Murag mudagan sa kailaluman

Babayeng murag langgam
Lupig pa ang umalohokan
Daw hangin sa kalawakan
Mupukaw sa hinanok na katikaran

Alas-saes sa buntag
Kini pirmi ang nahiaguman
Sa akong pandungog, kini naga-ingon
Bingka! Suman!

Si Manong Inig Alas Kuwatro
Nagbaguod kauban ang balde
Mumhong nagtagaktak sa kalye
Tiguwang nagguyod ug di-ligid
Niduol sa silingan ug niingon
“Naay lamaw diha day?”

Hunghong ni Beng

Poetry by | June 22, 2008

Samtang ang kalibutan nag banha-banha
Uban sa nagkalipay karong orasa,
Ako nagasulat, nagamugna, ug naghunahuna.
Samtang ang adlaw nipahulay sa pag-atubang sa pikas tungas iyang dagway,
Ani-a siya sa akong tapad.
Di’ makita apan siya mabati
Ug siya mihunghong,
“Ayaw kabalaka, hasta ra nang sayuna”.
Iyang pulong usa ka huyuhoy sa pinakamahayahay.
Milingi ko kun diin naggikan ang tingog –
Nga misugakod kuyog ang bugnaw nga paghuyop
Nga hangin gikan sa electric fan.
“Kinsa diay ka? Kaila ba tika?”
Mitubag ako human mabati nga siya niistorya.
“Dili kana importante. Basta, sayon ra na”.
Balos niya sa sulod sa akong panghuna-huna.
“Murag nakaila na ko nimo.”
Apan siya wala na nitubag.
“Kaila gayud ko nimo.”
“Kaila sad ko nimo.”
Nabati usab nako ang usa ka tingog
Nga wala pa nako nabatian –
Apan ako nang nakaila.
Samtang nilabay na ang panganod
Ug milutaw na ang hayag nga bulawanong bulan,
Nahuman na sab kining akong tulubagon.
Kini, samtang ako nagasulat,
Nahinumduman tika ug ang imong ngalan.
“Dili ba ikaw si Beng?
Salamat kay ani-a ikaw.”
Ug siya mitando. “Sa makausab, sayon ra na”.

Paghinumdom alang kay Benjaline “Beng” Hernandez

Happy Meal Number One

Fiction by | June 15, 2008

Because you are a chef, I must stuff my mouth with your cooking. Beat the eggs well, in the kitchen, on the bed, you always say. Even though you know I can’t cook.

Preheat the oven to 250 degrees. Turn the button. That is all I know how to do.

The fat chicken you had marinated overnight with pineapple juice lacks poise lying in the pan. Good thing its head had been cut off. Just imagine if it was there, you might think it was still alive.

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The New Wonders of San Pedro

Nonfiction by | June 15, 2008

San Pedro, considered to be the center of Davao City, is where you will find the city hall, the cathedral, and various shops. On Sundays after the mass, you’ll see people coming out of the church like soldier ants from their anthill. As you walk away from San Pedro Cathedral, it’s like making your way to the battlefield because you’ll have to squeeze yourself into the crowd, making sure that your belongings are still intact and your cellular phone or wallet is in your possession. Snatchers are everywhere pretending to be shoppers or bystanders so you’ll never notice how they orchestrate their schemes. Everywhere you look, you’ll surely see a swarm of people either dressed in their office uniforms or in their casual wear ready to shop till they drop or just hang around Rizal Park. Continue reading The New Wonders of San Pedro