kung patabukon nimo ning balaka
sa pikas sidewalk,
dunay mga pulong nga muagi
sa pedestrian, o musaka sa overpass.
aron di matapsingan
sa nanglabayng dyip.
dunay magpanaganag tabok,
dunay magpaagak sa batang buotan.
apan duna puy maligsan
tungod kay nagdinangag.
mabalian, mapulpog, mapidyat.
kung palayaton nimo ning balaka
patabok sa pikas pangpang,
siguro dunay makatarog tugpa,
dunay makatabok apan mapandol
o madalin-as ba kaha pagtupa.
dunay mapiangan, mapangos.
dunay igo ra makakapyot
sa sagbot nga nanurok
sa tumoy sa pangpang.
apan dunay di kaantigo mulayat.
maong kung pugson
nimo sila og tabok
diretso sa ilang lubnganan.
Gratian Paul R. Tidor is an AB English student of MSU-IIT. He was a fellow of the 17th Iligan National Writers Workshop.
(the girl of Snow Falling on Cedar)
I could hear the coal burning
in the potbellied stove,
While you’re reaching
for my hardness
and found it beneath
the fabrics of my shorts.
music grew louder,
As we moved closer,
Putting your chin against
my head, holding my ears
between your fingers.
Continue reading Hatsue
Ilang araw na akong nagkukumahog
Sa aking rebyu, urong-sulong ng gulong
Ang pag-usad, habang ang lumang orasan
Nakaismid, walang humpay sa pagbulong
“Maghapon kang walang puknat sa kaka-chat!”
Kanina, kaulayaw ko aking Musa
Ngumiti’t bantulot na ako’y yakapin
Nang ako’y napabalikwas, nagtataka
May gapos ang mga kamay nang magising!
Vangie Dimla-Algabre teaches in a Davao City school.
Is between my lips and yours
And the rain that bathes us
Unprepared like your parting.
This time, the heat
And prick of fondness is gone.
Bitter like your lipstick
Marking its trace with pain, provoked
By the scent of your breath inducing
Sting to my chest, while my pulse ticks
Weak like my heartbeat. Maybe
Because they too sense that
Here in the street,
Where we first met and kissed,
You will soon leave me
Alone with the sky weeping
Over your footsteps, heavy
As the fall of rain creating
Ripples on this puddled concrete
Like how tears will drop, away from me.
Gino Dolorzo studies at Xavier University – Ateneo de Cagayan.
you sink in and inhale my hair
the smell of after-a-kiss cigarette smoke
welcomes you to a mistake.
my arms adore you
love you to the last scar.
in loneliness, anyone staying over will be just fine.
yet in love, in love i’m alone.
i live in your confusing cycle
and you live in your world-
of smokes, liquor, and satisfaction.
i bend to your expectation
until i snap, crack, and break-
into your arms.
bracing for jealousy
and the end.
Today, I let him lead
So he held my hand and we wandered
Boundless, we crossed the yellow lines on the street
To where the faces are unfamiliar
Waltzing corners with the delightful uncertainty
Curving concrete moved us closer
With a grin on his face he asked me,
“Would you mind if we walked a little bit slower?”
So he took my time, took it away from me
And throw it in the nearest gutter
After countless alleys, gas stations, and trees
We found a café where we could sit closer
As usual he lights up a cigarette before he’d speak
Nicotine makes him more honest, older
He inched his hand to cup my face, kissed my cheek
Not fever, nor fighting, back then there was no need
To walk this far, to where the faces are unfamiliar
Back when we used to read, ride buses, and sleep
Back when we would do anything and everything together
With a grin on his face he asked me,
“Why did you leave me when you said you loved me more?”
Indeed the unsaid brings inappropriate grins
For I grinned back as I quoted our favorite author
“When the strong is too weak to leave, the weak had to be stronger.”
Kela recently graduated from Ateneo de Davao with a BS in Nursing.
inspired by “Curtain,” mixed media on canvas by Ivan Macarambon
It’s the millipede burrowing through the threads of a rug
that did it. A sign of wet weather, I’ve seen one or two
this afternoon, racing down the elbow of wall
and floor, the grout between tiles its tracks.
Where are they heading, punctual
little trains heading for a wreck under my heels,
or against the wall under the handle of a broom,
little, black, rusty nails bent in the middle
like a sloppy strike from an untried wrist?
Appointments wait in cold corners,
behind toilets, the inevitable,
Continue reading A Million Feet Scurry
Nangandoy ko nga motubo og paspas aron maapsan tika.
Napul-an na ko sa pagsul-ob sa imong tinuboang sapatos
nga baho og mga langyawng pangandoy.
Ang mga tinuboan mong sinina guot na kaayo
sa akong dughan. Kanunay ko nga gahilak kon masimhotan
ang nahibiling tinagoan sa imong ilok.
Unsaon, kay lagi, matod ni tatay ‘pobre ra ta’.
Sigon ni nanay, ‘mapuslan pa man na.’
Unya karon, ang imo na pung brip?
Kon may kamot lang ning akong kinatawo,
manampong gyud ni.
Pero sige na lang. Katapusan na ni.
Kay sukad karon, matod mo,
ang imong sul-obon kay panty.
Hay, salamat, kuya.
Paul Randy P. Gumanao is BS Chem Student at AdDU who loves to write poems