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 Aug 2017 cis
KRRW
Jamaedurian
 Aug 2017 cis
KRRW
Si Jamaeda:
Isa siyang matrona
na ang pangarap
ay ang wagas
na kagandahan.
Palagi siyang
nilalait ng kanyang
mga kaeskwela.
Maging mga kapatid niya
ay nilalayuan siya.
Samantala,
ang mga magulang niya
ay ikinahihiya
ang kanyang
kakatwang presensiya.

Isang araw,
kanyang natuklasan
isang natatanging pormula
upang makamtan
pinakamimithing kagandahan.

Mula sa laboratoryo
lumabas ang isang
mestisang diyosa
na siyang nagdulot
nang tiyak na pagkahulog
ng bawat panga
na nilalampasan niya.

Puri dito, puri doon.
Ang tainga niya
ay pumapalakpak.
Kaway rito, kaway doon,
hindi siya matigil
sa kahahalakhak.

“Sa wakas,”
ika niya,
kagandaha'y napasakanya.
Subalit,
ngunit,
datapwat,
langit biglang
kumulog,
kumidlat.

Habang ang diyosa'y pauwing
mahinhing naglalakad,
nakasalubong niya
ang isang matrona
na siyang nagpaalala
ng mapait na nakaraan niya.
Itsura ng matrona
sadyang kasuka-suka
mas masahol pa
sa dating muka ng diyosa,
wika ng marami
pinagsukluban ng langit at lupa
maging impyerno ay nakialam pa.

Hiling nito sa diyosa
ibahagi ang sikreto niya
sa pagbabago ng uling
at naging isang ginto,
ngunit ang kagandahan
ng diyosa'y panlabas lang
sapagkat kanyang budhi
lubos-lubos ang kaitiman.
Itinaas ang kilay
at saka pumanhik,
hindi niya namalayan
ang nagbabadyang panganib.

Plok! Plak!
Inay ko po'y kaysakit!
Ang diyosang marikit,
napasubsob sa putik.

Ngunit sa halip
na malambot ang lupang hahagip
'yon pala'y sa ilalim
may nakatagong talim.
Matigas niyang mukha
ginuhitan ng pait
ang maladiyosang matrona
nasiraan ng bait.

Lahat ng tao'y
naengganyong lumapit,
sa lakas ng kanyang sigaw
dahil sa sobrang sakit.
Imbis na tulunga'y
pinagtawanan, nilait.
“Hahaha! Buti nga sa 'yo,
mayabang ka kasi,”
ang kanilang sambit.
Luha niya'y nangingilid,
ngunit walang pasubali,
ang kutya nila'y sumasabay
sa ulang masidhi.

Sa hindi niya inaasahan,
dinamayan siya ng isa.
Isang pamilyar na mukhang
hindi rin naman
naiiba sa kanya.

Magbuhat noon,
natutunan niya
ang isang malaking
leksiyon:
“Mas masarap ang maging duryan,
kaysa maging isang mamon.”
Written
31 August 2013


Copyright
© Khayri R.R. Woulfe. All rights reserved.
 Aug 2017 cis
eleanor prince
pool swirling deep
surface still
beguiling

glimpsed from afar
caution warned
but you came

aeons spoke true
our hands shook
you held on

time stood still
even breath
paused

seconds stretched
vibrating
eternity

stunned we stood
uncaring for talk
riveted

others filled space
with putty chatter
while we stayed locked

silent cerebral synergy
magnetic dance
exceeding

all thought
numbed in
mindless joy
chance meeting with someone memorable
 Aug 2017 cis
Andrew Duggan
My neighbour invited me to a party today
for a man who died three years ago.
I did not know the man.
Was he famous?
Did he hurt people?
Or was he just a man in the wind?

He was a relative of my neighbour.
They gathered to celebrate and remember his life.
I wondered if anyone would come to celebrate and remember me when I die?

As I look who will I see drinking Belgium beer and talking about my poetry?
Will anyone say 'He was a man of constant sorrow, but a good father?

So I watched the people eat and drink and thought about my own death.
When will the shadows close in.
Will I begin to notice?
What will I feel?

So many people are abandoned in despair. Holding thoughts that no person should possess alone.
Wanting something better.
Death can seem an answer.

My neighbour offered my some Baijiu.
I smiled and politely say 'no thank you'.
The last thing I needed was to think about my own death and drink Baijiu!

As I left, still searching for my soul, I realised again, that weak winds and silent structures are all around us.
It is the small margin of moments, the walk through time that give us a chance of a good death.

— The End —