Thursday, May 10, 2007

Pssstt!!!

Pssst!!! Simple expression of calling one's attention.
Albeit its million meanings, I just console myself
and say, well, maybe he thinks he knows better dats why
he discovered another word that could add to our society's
vocabulary-that is "Pssst- a general name for beautiful souls".

Taga-UP

Nung isang araw, nagvisit ako sa UP Miag-ao.

Sarap ng pakiramdam, parang me kung anong bango ang dala ng hangin sa Miami na di ko mawari. Ganito pala feeling pag "you belong".

I was just stunned ang amazed nung tumambay ako sa UPV-IKOT parking area. Me tatlong binatilyo doon na sumakay ng trike- yung isa nakapajama at tsinelas na wari mo'y kagigising lang pero me dalang sangkatutak na aklat, yung isa payat na naka shorts at tsinelas rin pero ang t-shirt wari mo'y kinagat ng isang milliong langgam-yun tuloy lumalabas ang buhok ng kili-kili at ang isa naman ay naka jogging attire na me kulot na buhok. Those were the days, ganun din ang mga porma ko.

Agad namang me sumabay na dalawang babae na sumakay rin sa nakaparking na trike. Parang mga kuliglig- hindi mapakali na para bang kinikiliti ng isang dosenang insekto. Sa isang tingin pa lang, halatang hindi taga UP kasi sa tono pa lang ng pananalita at sa bugso ng damdamin ramdam kung sila'y taga banwa.

Kinikilig sila sa tatlong lalaking estudyante. Siguro manhid na talaga ako kung di ko mahahalata na pilit silang nagpapacute.

Sa akin lang, ganun pala yun. Me kakaibang magneto pala kung taga-UP ka kahit pa parang amoy imbornal ka at parang si Kingkong ang pagmumukha mo. Bigla ka palang gumagwapo pag taga-UP ka. Iba naman talaga ang dala ng dalawang letra-UP.

Wednesday, May 9, 2007

Naghabok si Inday

Busong ni Inday
Lupyak nga niwang
tulad, niwang angod
pay daw gahabok
Ano naghamal ka
duro-duro nga pighol?
Ukon nakarimidyo
tuya sa baryo hol.

Tig-ab

Ang busog gatig-ab
ka mahamot nga putahe
Ang gutom gatig-ab
ka hangin kada gab-i

Charger

Ke tagal kung chinarge eh
'bat hanggang ngayon nagchacharge pa rin?
Sira ba ang battery o me topak ang charger?

Ang Init

Mapintas and init
sa kahapunanon
galayung and hilamon
Gapakit-luoy nga may
tubig nga pagaimnon

My Memories of You

When I hear the sound of waterfalls
I hear you from where you call
Your words echoed in the bluish skies
And reach all depths and heights

Your love for me is like a gold
Oh, how can I thank you dear voice
For waking this sleeping heart I have
That turns from hatred to love

It is the voice you kept
That made me laugh and weep
It is the words you speak
That made this honest heart leap

After years of your love and care
I saw you in that blank stupid stare
I began asking a million "why's"
But you just turn your back and cry

I slept with you in the death bed
You cried hard to God and plead
In turn, I prayed to God for you
To take you wherever He may go

I know my prayers were answered
I wept and smile one gloomy Sunday
I feel, I know you'll breathe your last
Facing the only woman you ever loved

I run as fast as I can
The wind propelled my hand
I reach the church in a minute
I know you're done in time

I feel like I died with you
Yes, it hurts, its true
Seeing you pale and thin
In your silky white coffin

Ang Adobo nga Manok

Gadaba-daba ang kalayo sa kalan
Hay and kawa ginakalaywan
Para marimidyuhan
Ang ganit nga manok ni Juan

Adobo kuno daha na
Ginulgol and manok sa lamesa
kang habol nga lansitas
kag ginsalod ang dugo nga gaawas

Samtang gapanghimulbol
Gahibi si Juan pay waay gatampad
Nanugon sa manok nga ginsagod
Nga kabangdanan ka ana pagpahubog.

Tuesday, May 8, 2007

Ang Kuti nga si Tim

(05-07-2007)

Ang rabot-rabot ka niyog
Nag-ulway sa sanga kang mangka
Kada aga gina-iming ni Tim
Ang kuti nga itum nga naga-istar
Sa dalom ka dapog

Gahampang tana kada aga
Hay natak-an ka dilap ni nanay na
Nga bag-o lang naghalunhon
Ka hasang kang isda nga lob-ok
Samtang gatsismis ang amo nanda
Nga bagit sagwa kang siklat

Autumn-Time to Pray Our Goodbyes

(05-06-2007)

One morning of the 9th of June 2002
I was able to see the harshnes of autumn
Quite erroneous because autumn comes
during the last week of September,
I am referring to fallen leaves-death.

It was an ordinary day full of
extraordinary pain and suffering.
The wind blew the remaining life in the
mango tree which once was sturdy in its
green leaves and healthy fruits.

It bended and swayed in drastic motion
full of creepy noise..
It left the tree not a single leaf-bruised and dying..

Death is a recognition of God's power and grace,
Goodbyes are often painful and full of "why's"
The mango tree washed with all its remaining life
stood weak and damp after the morning rain,
regains its strength to face the bounty of spring
which only comes after the pain the autumn brings..

My love, my saviour, my God, my all
Why did you let the mango tree fall?
You know how much I love that tree
He is the head of our family...

After years of solitude and silent cries
Spring in my heart begins to rise....
For where the tree rest and lie,
I begin to pray all my goodbyes.

The Rat Race...

Everyday, we are busy coping in a rat race.
I believe this is true among us.
Only the rich cease to run and sweat.
Only the powerful cease to live a life which we treat "normal".
We eat and spend what we have worked for.
We end up gathering cash and cheque twice a month
to feed our doodads, our kids and the needs of our household.
How then can we go out of this cycle?
How can we free ourselves in the rat race?


I believe we can...

The Horizon

(05-03-2007)

Experience wise, travelling the sea
entails looking often at the horizon.
A traveller needs to be crashed
in solitude for sometime before noticing
that an island is always waiting for him
longer than the period it takes him to reach there.

Life is a series of sad thoughts..
Just like a problematic turtle looking for shelter...
never knowing he has his own.. .
Many weary souls think of respite along the road
when deep inside the scene fascinates them

The Scalding Me...

(04-24-07)

The excruciating pain of the golden sun
kissed the comely skin of an Asian beauty.
It bores holes and boils in the once
smooth and milky surface...
It scalds the remaining moisture in haste...

Oh lovely sun, why did you blasted your
mighty blaze to the innocent soul
who only yearns your light?
Why did you sinisterly laugh
at where those tired bodies weep?

Why didn't you hid behind the clouds
just to let the morning wind soothe its crying angels?
Why did you keep your vengeance to the dying earth?
Oh lovely sun, why did you stop loving
this blooming flower of summer?
Why did you stop embracing the
cold breeze of Ziberia?

If the death of this sincere heart
leads you to believe again in love,
Oh sun, stab me with all dexterity...
For it is better to die than to see the
earth scalding with your intense fire of fury...

Ambidextrous

(04-10-2007)

If one of my hands function as good as the other,
I will write runes unendlessly for you...
My heart will teem of words swarming
across the door of your locked heart...

If only one poem is as good as the other...
If only you would believe that the jotted words are only for you...

Forever I will be praying that I am ambidextrous
just to make sure what a hand can do,
I will do twice as much....

Loving you is thinking more
than what my callous hands could offer...
If training my feet to become ambidextrous do you better,
I would gladly obey....

In this close box of emptiness you left me curled and stale...
You never said you love me...
You in fact teach me not to love you...
You pressed my lips in the bondage of fear...
you tied my eyes and ears that I may only breathe...
the air of death and loneliness...

Yet my hands scribble words of love and compassion...
because this scarred heart
willingly submits to the gallows of your fierce reign...

For I know, if I love you well enough...
you too dies with me...because I know... y
our heart burns everytime you whip my dying soul....

Experience of a Lifetime

(03-28-07)

I was in Negros Occidental for two weeks. Just arrived last 24th of March at home. I just wana share a story that captures my heart in the Islands of Molocaboc, Suyac, Panalsagon and Matabas.

At first I thought "I am sure have a hell of a good time in these islands." only to realize that I will broke my back...este my heart and carry it anywhere I go.

The head of the kids consume half of their total weight. Meaning kay bigat tingnan nga kanilang dinadala. They are so thin. I was able to interview one nanay in the fishing area. She is 24 years old, about my age, with seven kids... yes you read it right, 7. She married when she was 12... not married pala, lived with his boyfriend... They became so masipag that they reap seven kids... Their daily income ranges from P35-P100. You will ready smell hunger in these areas.

When I was interviewing one old man, 72, I saw his feet blistered, lumalabas na talaga ang laman. After I was done with him, I asked him if me kilala pa syang mangingisda na pwede kong mainterview. I am only expecting him to name his companion. You know what he did, he asked me to follow him kasi nga daw dadalhin nya ako sa friend nya. To my surprise, naglalakad sya with the flesh of his feet grilled in the ravaging heat of the sand. We walk past ten houses siguro, he noticed me crying. He asked me, Nainitan ka day? Pasensya ka gid di sa amon lugar ha? Mainit gid man diri. I told him I am okay. What makes my heart bleed is the site of the man walking under the heat of the sun barefooted and wounded yet with very big heart.

After the interview, I bought buko sa taga isla para makapagrelax kami ng mga staff and guide ko.Sabi ko ititreat ko sila para lalong sumipag sa work. Well, for those who knew me for a long time would say morena ako pero pumuputi pag nailawan…hahahaha, pero sa isla ako doon ang pinakamaputi. Hahahaha. Amazingly true!!!

Off we went to Molocaboc Island...what amazed me so much is the sound of the kaldero. Talagang kumakalembang na kaldero coupled with a srilling cry "kan-on, nagutom ko!!!" After a short while, a deafening silence. I saw an old woman na me dalang kaldero and as she walk sa road, mothers and children alike, tumatakbo at binibigyan sya ng kanin at ulam. Wow! I said, what a scene! They are very poor yet they still have a lot to give...

Sobrang dami pa ng experience ko. Everyday I cried...not because I bowel in the mangrove areas, not because I ate all the yucky things I thought have never existed as food, not because I miss home (although that is partly true), not because I was deprived of taking a bath once a day (freshwater is very lean in the island coz they only have salt water supply), not because of the scourging heat of the sun but most of all I cried because I feel so blessed with a lot of good things in life, yet I was never so thankful the way people in those Island thank God with the blessings they have.

I feel so little... I feel so ashamed. I thought I have this red, big heart... I thought my intellect never failed me.. I thought I have one strong body... But I realize, my heart is so small...theirs is so big to give their last drop of freshwater for me to drink, their last samon of rice for me to eat, their biggest catch for me taste and their best of everything for me to enjoy... I began asking myself...what have I given them? My mind runs out of answer.... I just continued crying... Im so sad... I feel so little.

As I travel home, I embraced my sleeping bag for being with me all the time in the islands and for comforting me every dark, humid night.

Life is Always a Celebration

(03-26-07)

Each walking stick draws its own
picture in a canvas called life.
Some painted themselves in the brightroad of success,
but most sluggishlystrikes their pen to and fro.

Those that create colorful imagination
reap colorful pictures while those that
draw in tears and pain leave their
sheets wet and stale.

Most pretended to capture the moment
with pretentious glow and harmony but
left their heart tumbling and wading in pain.

The heart never lies though, coz in each of the strokes,
the canvas in itself is crying as the brush and pen
jagged the virgin fiber into pieces.
Life in itself is never a sweet cake,
nor a juicy watermelon in the summer's heat.
It is a flame of anguish from all ends
embraced by our own sacrificial soul.

As each of us clamor for the life of
wrath we now embrace, see through
yourself how enduring your heart is..
Fragile as we are, we could always put
the broken pieces together and start
mending a more patient and stalwart self.

Life is always a celebration, a rebirth from where we fall.
Do not consider how many times you fall but exult
in all the times you were able to rise from where you stumble...

Remember, we have all the blessings we need to survive.
It is only the winners who have the initiative in converting
dark moments of their lives an opportunity to grow.
The looser always find moments of accepting their being frail,
where they regarded their sturdy muscles as rotting logs readyto rest
and allow their interesting and challenging journey to stop..

Life is always a celebration...
Only those walking sticks
that strive to reach the horizon
are capable of saying... I did it!
And that is an enough reason to celebrate.....

My Trip- Molocaboc Island

(02-25-07)

I'm glad to be back!!!!

I'm from a trip in an Island of BIG JARS. It's Molocaboc Island located in Negros Occdental. Apart from that I also got another chance of visiting a well kept sand bar- Carbin Reef- home of millions of marine species. I went diving and strolling but most of all, I enjoyed being with the people.

Molocaboc is an island with swelling stories of the past. Imagine, living in a piece of land deprived of freshwater... (try digging the ground and you will find brackish/salty water not safe for drinking). They rely mainly in rain water, which explains the presence of gigantic jars in open areas used to collect rainwater.

A night in the island is a very overwhelming experience. You will hear nature's sound which slurs in a magical music that vibrates the ear. Sobrang ganda at sobrang tahimik...
Joining the fishers in their night trips is another adventurous activity which made my heart jump. Imagine a very small motorized boat which allows a single fisher in each trip... They usually tie their waists with rope attached to the boat and dive their wits to the cold, dark sea.... Deadly, isn't it? But that is what they do to feed all the hungry stomachs off shore.
I made my 2-day stay in the island worthwhile by tanning myself in the friendly shimmers of the mighty sun while brushing my heels in the virgin frolic along the beach. So, okay na sana ako... I run towards the house where I am staying to take a bath and to free my skin from the salty spray of the sea... WHHHHAAAAAA!!!! A young lady approached me smiling... "Why did you bathe in the beach?"... What a question! Feeling ko stupid sya, I am in a research trip and of course part of the deal is for me to get wet... di ba obvious yun!!


She cut the silence with, "kaya mo pa bang tiisin na di maligo hanggang makarating kayo sa Vito?" (Vito is a town/brgy with a port where most of the island's people dock going to the mainland). I asked her why... She answered.. nakalimutan mo ba, walang ulan ngayon, wala tayong pangbanlaw... (It didn't rain, we run out of freshwater supply). I was so ashamed that time not because I will be smelling foul for a 2-day abstinence in taking a bath but because I presumed so much without knowing the very important details in my travel... Baka magisip ang mga yun na feeling sosyal ako. They can even discipline themselves not to take a bath for a week tapos ako parang demanding magassume na makakaligo...

For the love of science, work and for the genuine concern of the island folks (naks!), I kept my stenching body secure in the motorboat back to Vito port. Off the record to ha, nobody dared to talk to me when I was in the boat. I think they even hold heir breath for a couple of seconds... sobrang baho ko talaga siguro. Wahahahaha!!!! At least... I enjoyed my trip and I learned a lot.. Alam ko na ang isusulat ko sa research output... Secret lang...

(In fairness maraming gentleman doon sa Molocaboc Island... kaya lang kulay mahogany ang mga buhok at kulay adobo ang balat... hehehehe..yummy.. another planet to behold talaga ang Molocaboc)

Good Friday: What is good in that day?

(02-08-2007)

I always wonder why Good Friday is termed as such when someone died on the cross.
Can't we just call the day Mournful Friday or Tragic Friday or Friday of Suffering?

Why termed the word goodbye when there is nothing good about leaving someone behind.

Why goodmorning, good afternoon and good day are cliches we often use when we are not sure what the person we greeted feels in that moment?

Why most of us rejoice when we come to an end of reading a book
when endings are sometimes sad?

Why are we writing sad songs, poems and refrains which will only make us feel lonely and insecure?

Why are we afraid of saying I Love You to someone we truly love when it's easy to say if the feeling is half meant? And why do we say NO when it means a million YES jumping in our heart in unison.

Why do we often say YES when in a flash of a second we believe otherwise?

Why do we say forever when we can't live the promise even for a day.

The Dragon and Its Rider

The Dragon and Its Rider
(01-29-07)

The dragon beats its wings hard and fast
When its rider wants to do some tasks
But it rests in the morning dew
When its rider has nothing to do

The rider can guide his dragon for sure
Coz only true riders have the courage to soar
Across the vast valleys and faraway shore
Even in dreams and fantasies they stroll

The rider can live without his dragon
But the dragon without a rider dies so soon
It's like a pen and paper deprived of writer
That dries and fade in the summer shade

The writer and rider alike
Directs their pen and dragon
Whenever you see fire and song
Remember life's greatest combination

Sillouette, a disguise...

Sillouette, a disguise....
(12-04-2006)

I asked you if you understand what it means
You answered a straight YES,
I smiled and pondered those moments
because I know, you don't-
You always pretend.....

You throw profound words when you speak
You write jargons a million times
but have you asked youself again and again
If you really know and mean those things?
I read your dairy a lot,I even scanned your notes.
So funny it is to me
You have not improved even a thing..

Yet when we went out that night,
You bragged a lot to me...
You told me you are a great writer,
A poet by heart...
A critique by profession..

Now I know...
What comes out of your mouth
Is what is lacking in your head.
I still love you... You are my friend...
But is it not simple to simply say,
Dianne, I don't really know?

When Your Head Turns

When Your Head Turns
(11-16-2006)

You've passed by something(one) important and you feel the must of having a second look.
You feel the load your work brings to you.
You disagree with ideas or jokes some boring fishes gave you.
You smile.
You made a face.
You have to rush in the CR. You have diarrhea.
Your teacher or boss is wearing a micro-mini skirt. (Worst thing is when a boss is a "he" but still have that stuff on.
You feel it's your period and you have not prepared for it.
You are a lazy office beaver doing things I am doing now and someone is approaching your cubicle- you feel it's your boss.
You are alone in the house with the locks on but someone called your name just beneath your bed.
Your wallet is out of nowhere. You loss an opportunity of eating a decent meal.
Actually, there are millions of instances where you can turn your head (even when you are asleep) but one thing is for sure, you can never read this blog if you do it now.