Orange Hope

Poetry by | May 27, 2018

Antares placidly fades
from the deep and high blanket,
He absconds from being one
of the many faces in the crowd.
He will be the brightest one,
But not on this sky, langga.
Not this one.

Dark and deep blanket embraces
flush-tainted, vast spread;
the transition is both breath-taking
and dangerous.
Inevitable change has come to him
but he’s not afraid.
If anything, he’s excited.

Your overwhelming orange smile
rises from the east.
Whooping, screaming,
greeting delight and passion;
waking up what’s sleeping within
and fueling my dim ignition of hope.

Al Lorgentina is a BS Accounting Technology student at Ateneo de Davao University. She was born and raised in Toril, Davao City.

Adidas sa Badjao

Poetry by | May 20, 2018

adidas sa badjao
perming galakaw-lakaw
gikan silas Dabaw
hangtud Oriental ang panaw
nahimong negosyante
makahangyo ka permi
gikan dosentos baynte
hangtud sa wan pepti

adidas sa badjao
ang halin ipamahaw
usahay lugaw-lugaw
aron gutom mahanaw
kung imong tan-awon
nanginabuhi intawon
isug natong mga igsuon
hagit sa kinabuhi gapadayon

adidas sa badjao
lig-on ilakaw-lakaw
bisan asa pa imong panaw
diha ilalom sa adlaw
pagkanindot suoton
dili gikan sa halangdon
sayon ra pod sukdon
sa tiil nga mga kubalon

mga adidas sa badjao
amping mos inyong panaw
ug kung mubalik mos Dabaw
patilawa kos inyong lugaw
dinhi pud sa Davao Oriental
duna mi daghang bahal
maghinay-hinay ta’g tagay
ug sa kinabuhi maglipay-lipay

Si Jovanie usa ka magtutudlo sa Davao Oriental State College of Science & Technology- SAN ISIDRO CAMPUS. Ang iyang mga tula namantala sa Dagmay. Siya kasamtangang nagpuyo sa munisipalidad sa San Isidro, Davao Oriental.

Samtang Gahulat

Poetry by | May 13, 2018

(a translation of Jerry B. Ignacio’s Pagpapalipas Oras by Adrian Sefuentes)

Unsa ba ka taas ang mga higayon?
Sa uma, nangabuhi na ang mga tinanom,
ang mga abugon nga yuta sauna,
gigakos na sa kabagnotan.
Kadtong hingtabok ka sa pilapil
aron lang maghulat ug masakyan
lapok ang nakabukhad sa imong giagian.
Karon, paspas na ug padagan ang mga dyip
sa espalto nga dalan.
Wala nay mga abog nga musoksok sa imong ilong,
mupuling sa mata, ug maoy hinungdan sa ubo ug hubak.
Di na ka karon atakehon kung ting-init
bisan pa og mamaklay ta ilalom sa silaw sa adlaw;
di parehas sauna pirme kang maugtas
matag abot nato sa baybayon
ug dili nalang ka maligo
kay di ka ganahan matilawan ang kaparat.
Paminaw nako, nakuhaan na ang asin sa dagat,
pati ang balud hinay na sad mubaklay
paduol ug palayo ngadto sa aplaya;
apan hantod karon, wala pa gihapon ka.
Gaihap na siguro ka og paldo-paldong kwarta
dira sa yuta sa gatas ug dugos;
samtang ako, gisum-olan na ug tan-aw
sa mga kamot sa relo, sa pagpupo
sa mga dahon sa kalendaryo, sa sigeg suwat
sa akong mga kasakit sa tala-adlawan.
Suwat nalang nimo nga way tingog-pagpanambit
ang maoy akoang konswelo,
alang-alang kay niana ka: Dili bukid ang oras
na masukod kung pipila ka ektarya,
o dagat na masukod kung pipila ka milya.
Ang paghulat sa hinigugma susama lamang sa kadugay
sa maantos sa kasing-kasing nga mupadayon sa

Adrian Sefuentes is a third year Creative Writing student of UP Mindanao.

You’re not as you looked like

Poetry by | May 13, 2018

You’re not as you looked like
You’re a gentle mountain
who turns out to be a sleeping volcano
A wolf with a sheep coat
A tip of an iceberg.

You can slaughter with your silence
And feign comfort when you speak
Your smile is daunting
Your frown as haunting

Tell me then
“Why can’t you be as you be?”
Your friendship, sure, is a stranger
Your anonymity is a friend.

Rhealyn Callao Pojas is a professional Filipino journalist who started her career in 2015 right after completing her degree in AB Communication Studies major in Journalism at the Mindanao State University – Main Campus. She worked as a reporter, and eventually an editor at a community newspaper in Davao City, Philippines for two years and has then decided to experience journalism in the island country of Palau.


Poetry by | May 6, 2018

  • as the afternoon breeze

    gently brushes the reflection
of the early moon on
the surface of this puddle

  • as it distorts the image

    which is the face you make

    as you held your breath

    when you came

  • as we made love
in the yellows and oranges

    golds and silver linings

    painted the treads

  • as you slowly crawl

    out of bed with the sun
you finish this affair
almost eagerly by yourself

Be still, katingon.

Rory Ian Bualan is a physics teacher at Nazarbayev Intellectual School in Petropavlovsk, Kazakhstan. He is from Mati, Davao Oriental.


Poetry by | May 6, 2018

in the dryness of the morning,

you hurled the blanket

from the clothesline

onto my shuddering

body—your kind of bromance

like the gábi leaves

watered by the

rain: fleeting

and has not drenched

the plant

Jan Vernix M Atis is from the Island Garden City of Samal, Province of Davao del Norte. He was a fellow to the 2015 Ateneo de Davao Summer Writers Workshop and 2017 Davao Writers Workshop. His works have been published and are forthcoming in Dagmay, the Online Literary Journal of the Davao Writers Guild, Sunstar Davao, Bukambibig Poetry Folio of Spoken Word Philippines, Sakayang Papel: Anthology of Binisaya Poetry, and in the Woman, Create 2018 Planner.

Trilingual Blues 

Poetry by | April 8, 2018

It’s beyond codeswitch—it’s an acceptance.

I decode a full Cebuano phrase, as though

it’s a tourist I have been encountering since

last year who never gives his number.

In American English, Niel and I would bicker

about Philippine politics, its idiocrasies,

the double standards, our accents swaying

between mother tongue and the academic.

Never do I stop reasoning that my mouth

becomes more slender and amiable when

speaking in Tagalog. What kind of Tagalog?

Manila Tagalog or Davao Tagalog? Oh, there’s

a category? Then mine’s the GenSan kind.

I rendezvous people in the crossroad of my

languages, and I oftentimes show up late or

not show up at all. Will there be an objective

understanding for apologies or forgiveness?

I tell the driver lugar lang, also reminding

of my fare’s change and where I came from.

Tell without translating how lost I already am.

Marc Jeff Lañada studies BA Communication Arts in UP Mindanao.

Thoughts as a hermit crab passes

Poetry by | April 8, 2018

The hermit crab drags its shell through a patch of grass

drenched by a passing shower.

The drops of rainwater stick to its battered home,

slowing it down until it hardly moves.

But a hermit crab is not a bird that stops flying

when rainwater soaks its wings;

a hermit crab is a hermit crab.

He scratches the ground with his claws,

crawling with his shell looming behind him.

How tiresome must it be

to have your world’s weight upon you all your years,

to have everything bear down on your shoulders

like a hermit crab’s shell.

But how wonderful must it be

to never have to leave home again.

Jade Monteverde Baylon is a BA English (Creative Writing) graduate from UP Mindanao. If you know of a house for rent around downtown Davao, please email him.