Iyang Agik-ik ug Pahiyom

Poetry by | November 27, 2016

Ang agik-ik aning bataa
maka-buak niining samin
diin ko ginahanduraw
ang akong mga kaagi.

Sa matag tan-aw ko
sa akong kaugalingon
niining samina,

Iyang matag pahiyom
makahanap sa akong panglantaw;
akong nawong nagkaguol,
nagkatiguwang.

Krishna Mie graduated with a Masters Degree in Applied Social Research and a Bachelors Degree on Secondary Education Major in Social Studies. She is currently working as a faculty of the Humanities Division at Philippine Science High School – Southern Mindanao Campus where she teaches Social Science Courses.

Laundry Problems

Nonfiction by | November 27, 2016

What could be more mundane than doing laundry? You wear clothes because you have to. They get dirty. You wash them. Day after day. Rinse. Repeat.

Sometimes, a full life is measured by how large a pile of laundry one accumulates.

I am rushing to and fro, ignoring the growing pile. There are just too many busy days. There are children to take care of and a house to clean. There are canvases to fill up, deadlines to meet, and mountains to climb.

One day it happens. The pile of laundry refuses to be ignored much longer. So I make time, pushing everyone’s schedules around. I need an afternoon, a day, maybe three days at the most because that’s how much laundry my family has sometimes.

I inspect this growing monster with equal measure of determination and despair. There is no running away from it. It has to be done.

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Hindi Muna Ako Tutula Hangga’t Mahal Pa Kita

Poetry by | November 27, 2016

Kaya kong magkuwento tungkol sa simula
Noong manipis na foam lang ang pumapagitan sa sahig at mga likod natin
Dahil minimum wage lang ang kinikita mo bilang
Saleslady sa isa sa libo libong tindahan ni Henry Sy
At pa-raket-raket lang ako bilang tutor ng mga anak-mayaman sa Iloilo.
Kaya kong punuin ang magdamag ng mga sugilanon ng pagtitiis mo
Sa pagkain ng sardinas dahil ito ang paborito ko,
At ng paggising mo sa madaling araw upang ipag-igib ako ng tubig
Mula sa poso, ipag-init ng pampaligo’t pang-kape,
Ipagluto ng baon at ipagplantsa ng palda at blusa noong, sa wakas,
Ay natanggap ako bilang guro sa pribadong eskwelahang laging sanhi
Ng trapik sa General Luna. Marami tayong mga kuwentong
Kagaya nito, at pwedeng parisan ng metapora ang bawat alaala, ngunit
Hindi muna ako tutula hangga’t mahal pa kita.

Maaari kong awitin ang mga napagkasunduan nating
Maging theme song noong mga panahong ginagabi tayo
Sa pagtatrabaho nang parehong walang overtime pay:
Sana’y Wala Nang Wakas dahil Sharonian ako, at Head Over Feet
Dahil adik ka kay Alanis kahit hindi mo makabisa ang spelling ng apelyido niya,
Kagaya ng palagi mong paglimot sa petsa ng birthday ko.
Maaari kong awitin ang mga naka-loop sa playlist ko
Noong paulit-ulit mo akong sinuyo para lamang muling iwanan,
Na para bang paulit-ulit mo akong ini-endo para pag-aplayin
Sa parehong posisyon. Iba’t ibang himig at titik
Ang kaya kong ilapat sa aking pag-iyak, hagulgol, at pag-ngawa
Sa tuwing pinili mo akong saktan. Aking sasabayan ang ritmo
Ng bawat isa hanggang marindi ka sa sintunado kong pagkanta; ngunit
Hindi muna ako tutula hangga’t mahal pa kita.

Papayag akong sumayaw kahit pa nga walang tugtog
Basta’t maiyugyog ko lang ang katawan kong pagod na pagod na
Sa pagluhod at pagsusumamo sa mga novena ko kay St. Jude
Dahil ayoko nang umasang titino ka pa, kagaya ng
Hindi ko na pag-asang mare-regular pa ako o tataas ang sweldo.
Papayag akong sumayaw, umindak, at maglupasay
Bilang tanda ng pagbitaw sa nag-uumapaw na poot at galit
Na dala ng panghihinayang sa labintatlong taong sinayang
Nating dalawa. Hahataw sa galaw ang aking mga paa ngunit
Hindi muna ako tutula hangga’t mahal pa kita.
Dahil hangga’t may natitira pang katiting na pag-ibig sa kasingkasing
Ay hindi magiging sapat ang ritmo o tugma; walang saysay
Ang mga metapora. Ang bawat salita ay mananatiling kabalintunaan
Ng kabiguan nitong aking akda kaya’t ipagpaumanhin mo sana kung
Hindi muna ako tutula hangga’t mahal pa kita.

Early Sol won second place in the Hiligaynon Short Story Category of the 2016 Carlos Palanca Memorial Awards for Literature. She has been a fellow in several National Writers Workshop. She currently teaches Mathematics, Education, and Statistics courses at the University of the Philippines Visayas.

Call for Membership Applications: Northern Mindanao Writers Group

Editor's Note | November 25, 2016

About NAGMAC

The Nagkahiusang Magsusulat sa Cagayan de Oro (NAGMAC), a young artists collective of established and emerging poets, essayists, fictionists, and playwrights, is now open for membership applications. Applicant must be born and/or (currently) based in Northern Mindanao—Bukidnon, Camiguin, Lanao del Norte, Misamis Oriental (Cagayan de Oro), and Misamis Occidental. NAGMAC aims to provide opportunities for local writers to enhance their skills and receive further education about their craft through workshops, clinics, and other forms of critiquing; provide a venue for editorial development and support group for those making a career with their creative works; create an open artistic community within the region that recognizes up-and-coming homegrown talents; and cultivate an inclusive community of literate and discerning readers and patrons of local literature and the arts.
Continue reading Call for Membership Applications: Northern Mindanao Writers Group

Wildflower

Poetry by | November 20, 2016

Weed, they say
Of the sprout
That blooms in concrete.
Wild, because its color
Is sunkissed.
This weed they curse,
This weed they raise their fists,
This weed they fear.
Yet be the wild blossom
That stands unwavering,
That waltzes with the wind.

Stephanie is a creative writer, blogger, and enthusiast of all things creative. She graduated with a BA in Literature at De La Salle University – Manila. She has attended two Mindanao-based workshops, namely the 1st Cagayan de Oro Writers Workshop (2016) and the 2013 Davao Writers Workshop. She’s currently working on her first work of poetry, Animalia: a collection of animal poetry. The poem, “Wildflower,” is from her collection of works entitled “Found.”

Ilhanay 2016: The Pleasure is Mutual

Nonfiction by | November 17, 2016

Last October 13, some members of the Davao Writers Guild (DWG) participated in Ilhanay 2016, the first literary festival of North Davao Colleges, Panabo City, through the initiative of faculty member Mohammed Nassefh Macla. Through Macla’s vision, the school’s former “English Week” turned into a celebration of contemporary Mindanawon writing, an unequivocal act of defiance toward the hegemony of English as a language of intellectual and literary pursuits in the Philippines. That day, it was clear that Binisaya is the language that speaks to and of the heart of the Mindanawon.

Panabo is a city in its own right, nestled between the larger cities of Tagum and Davao. Our trip there is part of the outreach activities of the Guild in order to ensure that aspiring writers from outside Davao also have the opportunity to meet and learn from more established writers. In the past, DWG as a group has gone to Samal Island, Digos City, Kapalong, Davao del Norte, and Bukidnon, and each time, participating writers came home inspired by the enthusiasm of the audience. In Panabo, I joined Noi Narciso, Darylle Rubino, Errol Merquita, and Macla in the usual forum and reading. What we didn’t know was that the students had actually prepared a treat for us.
Continue reading Ilhanay 2016: The Pleasure is Mutual

Victims and Perpetrators

Fiction by | November 13, 2016

Harassment is something that a human mind could sense. When someone, even if it were a child, is being harassed, he or she knows it. Sexual harassment cases occur among girls and women of all ages.

These were the words I heard from the speaker of an anti-sexual harassment forum I attended when I was in first year college. I think most of these cases are unresolved and are only kept secret by offended parties because of two reasons: some threatened by their offenders and some kept their secrets by choice. I chose to be on the second category.

It all started one morning, when my parents were out doing the usual pamalengke for Sunday lunch. I was five. I loved to stay in the sala while waiting for my parents because I like seeing the goods they bought for Sunday lunch. We would usually have a festive lunch every Sunday so we would invite my father’s buddy, Bobong, who had been, ever since I remember, a close friend of the family. What would make us aware of his arrival would be his signature way of saying “Ayo!” as he’d climb his way up our house. He would come to our house in every occasion—big and small ones. Big ones like my younger brother Ponkik’s first birthday where he led the slaughtering of the big pig for lechon, my youngest brother Langgay’s dedication day and small ones like ordinary drinking sessions and tong-its card games with my father and their other friends.

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