Forward Reaction

Poetry by | October 4, 2015

My windpipe is chockful of smoke
Straining to utter words to woo
Neurons swimming in alcohol
To fool myself that I’m with you

Exasperated; waiting for when
Oxytocin in lieu of nicotine
Dominates my body and brain
And love satisfies, not deride

There is one I seek, from whose love
I will wholeheartedly suffocate
She will not fiddle nor balance
But overwhelm the chemicals in me

She is the catalyst I need
To join, aid, and to complete me

—
Gari Jamero is a BS Biology Student from Xavier University – Ateneo de Cagayan and Producer-Director of The Xavier Film Society.

distraught

Poetry by | October 4, 2015

Symmetrical distant
Glowing illuminant
Invisible yet seen
with closed eyes
Maroon apparel
Hands left parallel
Never to meet
Vanity in subtle
Self depreciating ways
Always the one to like
Droopy eyes and
Cigarette scent
You are his desire

—
Loy is a student at UP Mindanao.

The Bangkok Masseur

Nonfiction by | September 20, 2015

1.
Celebrated on the 2nd weekend of April, Songkran is a three-day holiday befitting Bangkok, the city of rivers and waterways. The city returns to its true form: children with blue and red water rifles counterflow the gray pedestrian logic of the streets, laughter bubbles from the streaming alleys, jets of water crisscross and cloud the scrapers spiked to the earth. For many foreign gay men, the holidays are exciting opportunities to flirt with locals and fellow tourists. Siam Square becomes an open playground. The dynamics of Silom are a different case: wet the cute ones with your colorful phallic object, aim true, and do not forget to smear each other’s faces with white chalk dust. These are blessings. Bless the body with the element of rebirth.

My companions simply wanted see how Bangkok would dissolve in its wet and wild carnivalesque of a basin on a Songkran weekend. I shared their excitement too, but there was an equally important goal for this trip.

When the story is not finished, return to the place.

Continue reading The Bangkok Masseur

The 3rd Satur P. Apoyon Short Story Fiction Contest

Events by | September 16, 2015

Fiction story writers who are residents of Mindanao are invited to compete in the 3rd Satur P. Apoyon Tigi sa Mubong Sugilanong Binisaya. A contestant is allowed only one (1) entry. The story should be original (written by the contestant, in Bisaya/Binisaya), unpublished (not yet printed), and must not have won any awards or used as thesis or workshop material. The printed story must be from ten to twenty pages only (printed using Times New Roman font size 12 points on Letter-size paper with paragraphs printed in double-space).

Send entry to: The Public Relations Officer, Administration Bldg., U.P. Mindanao, Mintal, Davao City 8022. The entry envelope should contain: three copies of the story; a separate paper signed by the contestant stating that he/she is the author and that the story has not been published, awarded, or used as thesis or workshop material; and the contestant’s mailing address, e-mail, and cellular phone number.

An electronic copy of the entry in Rich Text Format (RTF) should be sent by email to: davaowritersguild-at-yahoo-dot-com-dot-ph (davaowritersguild@yahoo.com.ph).

Non-compliant entries will be disqualified. The criteria are: Language (25%), Technique (25%), Relevance (25%), and Overall Impact (25%). Cash prizes are: P5,000.00; P3,000.00; and P2,000.00, with corresponding Certificates of Award. Winners will be notified. The decision of the judges is final. The deadline for submission is 09 November 2015. This contest is organized by the Davao Writers Guild.

Sa Tula Tayo Nagsimula

Poetry by | September 13, 2015

Sa tula tayo nagsimula
Kaya nung nawala ka,
Ayokong ayokong makabasa ng Pablo Neruda
Oo, alam ko
Bestseller si Lang Leav
Pero please,
Pakitago na lang yung kopya
Sa tula tayo nagsimula
Kaya nung nawala ka,
Nangako ako:
Hinding hindi ako magsusulat ng tungkol sa’yo
Ngayon lang
Isang gabi ay niyaya mo akong makinig sa mga makata
Isang gabing tulad nito
Isang mikropono, isang entablado
Lubos akong namangha kung paanong dumadaloy
Na parang tubig ang mga salita
Mga piyesang naisasaulo
Nang simula hanggang dulo
Hanggang sa walang alinlangang bagsak ng mga kinatha
At kumpas ng mga kamay sa kawalan
Habang pinapanood ko sila, natanong ko ang sarili:
Nauubos nga ba ang sakit kapag pinakawalan ang mga salita?
O hindi kaya’t
Ang bawat katagang bibitiwan ay magmistulang
Panggatong sa apoy ng mga alaalang
Hindi mamatay-matay-matay-matay?
Umalingawngaw ang kanilang mga tinig sa bulwagan
At sa pagitan ng palakpakan at hiyawan,
Walang-imik tayong nakinig
Habang isa-isa nilang binuksan ang mga baon na kahon
Dala nila ang mga pira-pirasong puso,
Ang mga ligaw na bala na tumagos sa mga nabaling buto
Mga luhang inipon sa mga garapon
na hanggang ngayon, hindi pa rin magawang itapon
Noon, bahagi tayo ng madla, ng mga ipinauubaya
Sa mga makata na banggitin ang mga hindi natin kayang sabihin
Tulad ng dalagang nasa sulok na walang magawa
kundi panoorin ang kamay na gumagapang sa balikat ng kaniyang kaibigan
Kaibigan.
Higit pala sa kaibigan.
Tulad ng binatang may mga matang nagsasabing “Gusto kita”
Ngunit ‘di man lang mahawakan ang mga kamay na kanina pang bukas
May mga bulong na nagbabadyang halik
Hindi kayang tawirin
Ang sagradong espasyong namamagitan sa dilim
Tulad ng mga mas pinipiling ilapat ang mga labi
sa lamig ng bote ng beer:
hinahayaang tangayin ng alak ang mga ‘di kayang sambitin
“Ako na lang. Ako na lang.”
At sa bawat paglagok, itutulak
lulunurin pababa ng lalamunan
ang mga katotohanan
Noon, bahagi tayo ng madla
At tulad nila, sa ating munting sulok,
bumuo rin tayo ng sariling tula
Isang tulang kabisado ang bawat linya
tulad ng mga guhit sa iyong palad
na noon ay madalas kong hawak
‘Di ko man lang namalayan na
ang mga binuo mong makulay na panaginip
ay kathang-isip lang pala
Sa huli, ako ang kapeng tinikman
at iniwan na nanlamig sa hapag
At ikaw ang kandilang nagpasyang bawiin ang sariling apoy
Tulad ng kulog na ‘di kayang habulin ang harurot ng kidlat,
‘di nasabayan ng mabagal kong mata
ang kumpas ng iyong mahika
Namalikmata.
Kumurap makalawa.
At sa pagdilat ko,
naglaho ka.
Kung paanong isang tao ay
sinuyo at iniwan,
pinakilig at kinalimutan,
bumulusok ang ating kuwento
kumaripas pababa nang walang preno
at nang walang babala,
biglang huminto
Tapos na pala.
Pero heto ako:
Bumabalik pa rin sa tula
Kahit na ayokong maalala na
Dito tayo nagsimula

—
Kiara Rioferio is a Human Resources Specialist with a degree in Psychology from Ateneo de Davao University. She spent her formative years in Las Pinas City but now calls Davao City home. This piece was performed at August 30’s Lit7rgy: Seven Seers at the Red Rooster rooftop bar along MacArthur Highway.

LitOrgy 7

Events by | September 6, 2015

Full house. Li7orgy, the seventh installment of LitOrgy, filled the rooftop of the Red Rooster restobar along McArthur Highway last August 29 and 30. This was the first LitOrgy held two nights in a row to accommodate an overwhelming turnout of literary enthusiasts from around the city. Photo by Kiana Kimberly Flores.
Full house. Li7orgy, the seventh installment of LitOrgy, filled the rooftop of the Red Rooster restobar along McArthur Highway last August 29 and 30. This was the first LitOrgy held two nights in a row to accommodate an overwhelming turnout of literary enthusiasts from around the city. Photo by Kiana Kimberly Flores.

The Compromise of Heights

Nonfiction by | September 6, 2015

In the southern part of Davao City, there were as many coconut trees as there were rustic houses. The trees proudly stood at different heights and formed dancing shadows on our rooftops.

If one drove south and traversed the span of General McArthur Highway, he or she would encounter the expanse of green spires to the right and the so-called rich kids of my high school alma mater, Ateneo de Davao, to the left. Up ahead, Mt. Apo stood as a majestic background, forming a splendid tapestry behind a then emerging urban space.

When I was younger, I believed that a skyline spoke of a city’s own wealth and progress. And in more ways than one, this was true given that the skyscrapers of New York and Chicago were often objects of fascination in Hollywood movies during my time. To me, greater heights meant greater progress — in the same manner that a rural area’s development meant a Jollibee store opening doors for the first time to people close to its proximity.

It was no surprise that a few years before the year 2000, I became an 8-year old witness to how people regarded the Marco Polo building as a sacred symbol of Davao’s ability to keep up with the modern times. Everything beyond it, however, was still flat. This observation made me conclude that my hometown has only humble beginnings and a slow pace for progress.

Continue reading The Compromise of Heights

Maayong Pasko

Poetry by | September 6, 2015

Nahapinan sa kadulom sa kagabhion
ang hilom nga eskinita diri sa Krustaal
diin makita ang mga borikat
nga mokapyot sa mga posteng guba
nga mao untay modan-ag
sa maong agianan.
Apan imbis makasaksi ug panglibod
tali sa usa ka borikat ug parokyano,
wa may laing makit-an kundi
ang kadulom sa eskinita taliwala
sa gakipat-kipat nga siris
didto dapit sa Shanghai. Imbis mga bae nga
mabaw ug niluparan ang malantawan
nga gadukoduko atubangan
sa mga hubog didto dapita,
mga gagmayng bata nga gakanta
ug sonata bahin sa paghimugso
sa manluluwas ang makit-an.
Gitunolan ug singko sentabos
daw gipapahawa.
Pila kaha ang ihatag nila
kon bae nga gaawas-awas ang dughan ug
galakra sa nipis nga spaghetti ang mga atngal
ang mikanta atubangan nila?
Gidundon nako’g tanaw ang mga naglakat
nga bata, ‘aha kaha ni sila mamaingon?’
Hinaot unta nga dili guba
ang mga poste sa unahan,
aron naay modan-ag sa kadulom
sa ilang baktasan nga eskinita.

—
Sums, from Ateneo de Cagayan, is a normal student by day, and a majestic Unicorn by night.