Going home

Poetry by | October 30, 2016

I leave today behind
in the jeepney
like snakeskin.
i leave it
in the blur of city lights
and hair waving like flags.
i leave it
in the sway
of sleeping strangers’ heads,
in the noise of traffic
drowned
by the still silence
of passengers—
skin to skin
we still carve spaces
between each other.
the engine
thrums and roars
underneath the seats,
a steady heartbeat
and like infants
we surrender freely.
when you are lonesome
it’s easy to find safety
in the silence
of strangers
and easier to spill past selves
into the highway
to leave them,
in the black smoke
and sea of headlights
and come bare and clean
into bed
close to midnight.

the wind can wash
almost anything away.

Ma. Theresa Jabar is a student from Xavier University Ateneo de Cagayan.

Dulom

Poetry by | October 23, 2016

Ako nga diri gapungko,
sa dalom sang galuya nga bulan,
gaisip gid sang maayo.
Gatanga,
gapamatyag.

Hindi ko gusto nga maghalin diri
pero wala ta mahimo,
sa akon ‘di sila gusto.
“Damak, baho
wala pulos.”

Gasakit akon dughan,
uliton naman tanan.

Ang langit nga gadugo,
ang manok nga gasyagit.
Ang adlaw nga gabagabaga
nga daw ginasunog akon panit.

“Piste, ara na sya,
ay ka tonto.”
Diri naman ka natulog?
Panglimos sa iban didto.
Halin diri, mag-abri na kami.

Gihimos ko akon mabilang nga gamit.
Silaw ang adlaw ah,
kanami magpaipit.

Arsean Kerk H. Lopez, is a 5th year accountancy student in Ateneo de Davao University.

A Study of Sound

Poetry by | October 23, 2016

If mothers were flowers
their mouths bear the burden of bees
to kiss the world new
while the old pass with the dews.
They open to sunlight
their curtains bare to passing winds,
singing the growing gardens.

Watered every once in moments
with tenements and memoirs
moist inside the leaves, joyed
with the voice of have-been seeds
to little ones rearing up
reaching up what they
cannot reach.

Still in graceful steady stance
weighs on their eyes only loveliness,
only themselves only beauty
sought in moving on
and remembering
the singing of growing gardens.

Darylle “Darsi” Rubino is a graduate of the Creative Writing program of the University of the Philippines Mindanao. He resides in Cabaguio Avenue, Davao City, where he spends time (a lot of time) making omelettes and drinking tea.

War as a Human Product: Wars, Conflicts and The Writers’ Imagination

Nonfiction by | October 23, 2016

(Paper read during the Annual Congress of the Philippine Center for International PEN, December 3-4, 2013, De La Salle University, Manila)

Introduction

Former British Prime Minister Neville Chamberlain said that “In war, whichever side may call itself the victor, there are no winners, but all are losers.” This statement is a gospel truth when we talk about wars and conflicts.

It is a fact that human existence, or human history, has been replete with wars and conflicts. In the Bible, we can read stories about wars and conflicts. In History books, we can likewise read stories about war and conflicts, which lead me to believe that as long as man is man, there will always be wars and conflicts. There are small wars and conflicts as there are also big wars and conflicts. And no matter how small or big it is, it is always disturbing. Along the way, there is always a collateral damage—innocent people including children, die as result thereof. These flaring conflicts and wars also create economic hardships, dire refugee problems, and a sustain sense of despair.

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Ode to Garlic

Poetry by | October 16, 2016

(for Janice)

He doesn’t want you.
Not with your pungent scent
marking the strength
of your personality.
He wants that onion-
head with her pale skin
and purple highlights.
Her sly manipulations
move him to tears,
make him want to
peel back her layers and
save her from herself.
But, you, Garlic, are
your own leading lady.
You don’t need a knight
in armor or Viking
prince or Scot in a kilt,
or any odd alpha male
to carry your burdens.
You are no weakling.
Not you, dear bulbous
heroine of the Kitchen.
You, who saved us from
vampires and toothaches.
Nightingale of the World
Wars, how many heroes
survived thanks to your
antiseptic intervention?
It’s not your loss,
dear Garlic, if he
wants a drama
queen in his life.
Come, let us peel away
your thin, fragile skin.
Crush your cloves
and toss you into
the vat of burning
oil, until you become
the gold that spices up
this bland world.
He may not
want you, but
we appreciate
your virgin sacrifice.

Genevieve Mae Aquino was born in Manila but calls Davao her home. She has a clutch of diplomas in molecular biology and genetics. She was fellow for Poetry in English at several national creative writing workshops. She currently works as a university researcher at the University of the Philippines.

Call for Submissions to a Northern Mindanao Literary Anthology

Editor's Note | October 16, 2016

The Project. The editors are interested in pieces that evoke a strong sense of place, its landscapes, history, and diversity of cultures in Northern Mindanao—Misamis Oriental, Misamis Occidental, Bukidnon, Camiguin, and Lanao del Norte.The anthology is open to both established and emerging writers (1) who live in Northern Mindanao, (2) who live elsewhere but grew up in Northern Mindanao, OR (3) have spent a good period of time in Northern Mindanao enough to inspire memories and feelings. The project is spearheaded by the Department of English of Xavier University-Ateneo de Cagayan, Cagayan de Oro City.

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Pamalandong Bahin sa Panuwat, Pinulongang Binisaya, ug Mindanawon Writing by a Former English Spakaner

Nonfiction by | October 16, 2016

(Gibatbat ni sa Forum sa Mindanawon Writing katong 16 September 2016 sa Central Mindanao University, Musuan, Bukidnon.)

To tell you the truth, I don’t have the wisdom and know-how to discuss the topic because “Mindanawon Writing” is so vast. However, what I can share is a part of Mindanao that I’m more familiar with which is Cagayan de Oro because I was born and raised there as well as my affair with Binisaya. Ever since I wore diapers, I was trained to speak English. I also studied in a school where English and Filipino are absolute, though the latter language and I never seem to get along.

Continue reading Pamalandong Bahin sa Panuwat, Pinulongang Binisaya, ug Mindanawon Writing by a Former English Spakaner

Amirah

Fiction by | October 9, 2016

My neighbors are throwing sharp words at each other, piercing the wall that separates us. Very Manila, I tell myself. Sleep is becoming elusive the past days. The least I need are loud people crudely airing their dirty laundry at 1:30 in the morning while I prepare to do my Tahajjud. At this time at home in the province, everyone is halfway finished with individual supplications–no commotions in the neighborhood at all. After the prayer they would go eat the food that is already served in abundance. I glance at the table my househelp made.

Ya Allah, please bestow upon my parents a longer, healthier life. Please grant us a harmonious relationship within our family and relatives. Ameen ya Rabbul alameen.

Continue reading Amirah