And the books…

Poetry by | October 3, 2010

And the books will still be there on the shelves, detached souls,
That emerged once, drenched
As shining mangos under a tree after the rain,
And consumed, tasted , delicious fame
Despite defying seasons, crawling ants,
children stoning, the earth in motion.
“Even if” they said, “our pages are worn to shreds,
Shabby and brown, or a fly has been preserved
Between sheets, so much durable
than we are. Whose delicate heat
chills the heart and memory, scatters, expires.”
I imagine when I will be faced out
Replaced by audio, video books – nothing ensues,
no bereavements, no harm, it’ll still be television shows,
Make-ups, money, women, a moment with music.
still, the books will be there on the shelves, able-bodied,
ripe because of people, and also sunlight, crowning.

—-
Hannah Louise Enanoria is a 4th year AB Sociology student of Ateneo de Davao University.

Midnight Resolution

Play by | August 22, 2010

CHARACTERS:
Lando, 28
Dina, 23
Checkered Blue man
Arturo Dela Cruz

SCENE: In a dim street in Quezon Blvd. Dina is leaning her back on the wall while standing. Lando, smoking a cigarette, approaches her.

LANDO: [faces Dina] So, are you okay?

DINA: A bit cold.

LANDO: [looks at his watch] It’s 11:48. [touches Dina’s forehead]

DINA: Don’t worry, I’ll be fine. You know my stamina is strong.

LANDO: Have you slept well?

DINA: Two hours or three.

LANDO: You’ll make it through this night?

DINA: You bet, I can. [LANDO throws the used cigarette on the floor, gets a new one from his pocket, and lights it] So, what happens uptown?

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Saranggi Port

Poetry by | February 21, 2010

Minsan noong pababa tayo
sa padyak galing eskuwelahan
dito sa lumang daungan
na dati’y ginamit ng Espanya
sa pagkalakal ng alak,
sinabi mo ang pinaghalong
halimuyak ng ilang-ilang
sa gitna ng liwasan at
simoy ng dagat ay walang
katulad.

Habang kumukuha tayo
ng litrato ng mga mangingisdang
nasa balsa sumasagwan,
namimingwit, naglalambat,
nag-uunahan sa kuha,
hindi ko alintana
ang oras kahit
dapithapon na.

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Ang Traydor

Poetry by | January 10, 2010

May tao akong nakilala
Sa kanto dose nakatira
Ang pangalan niya’y Pasito
Trabaho niya’y pagtataho.

Umupo ako sa kanyang silong
Pansin ko’y suot niya’y ‘sang dumihin
At putikang kamiseta
Nabahiran na ng grasa

Ng kapanayamin ko siya
Halatang si Pasito’y nangangayat
Epekto raw iyon ng karukhaan
Ng gobyernong ‘di makandungan

“Noong unang panahon”
Dagdag niya, “Ako’y may nagawa.
Naging bahagi ako ng kudeta
At gobyerno aking inasinta”

“Nang mahuli ako ng mga opisyal
Dinala ako sa isang nanlilimahid na lugar.
At doon ako’y kinawawa
‘Di nila alintana ang aming paghihirap

Sa gilid ng bulubundukin
Pinarusahan, iniwang duguan
Sa buhos ng malakas na ulan
Naging lugmok aking katauhan

“Katarungan nami’y hinarangan
Kalayaan, aming inaasam-asam.”
Sa sobrang ipit ‘di ko napansin
Nawala na si Pasito sa aking paningin

Naalala ko huling hirit nya
Habang binulay-bulay mga alaala
“Pag-atake sa mga tiwali
Sadya nga bang mali?”

—-
Hannah Louise Enanoria is a 3rd year AB Sociology student of ADDU.