Jun Lit

Jun Lit Apr 2019

Uninvited one . . .
You stayed, rooted, hugged so tight.
Strangled life gave life.

Jun Lit Mar 2019

Woody vine’s poor friend
Gave all up for Beauteous end.
Nature’s investment.

Inspired by my seeing blooms of Rafflesia lagascae, a rare parasitic plant, that depends entirely on a wild woody vine called Tetrastigma, on Mount Makiling in Laguna, Philippines

#haikuinformnatureintheme

Jun Lit Mar 2019

Dalit sa Pagkakaibigan

Hindi yaman ang sukatan
Ng matapat na kaybigan
Kundi subók nang samahan
Tapat at walang iwanan

Translation: Dalit-Poem to Friendship

It’s not by wealth that we measure
How true a friend worth to treasure
But comradeship that did endure
The tests of time and love that’s pure.

Dalit is a traditional Tagalog poem that consists of 4 lines per stanza, each line with 8 syllables.

Jun Lit Mar 2019

Hinahanap Kita, Kapatid

Hinahanap kita, Kaibigan . . .
Tinatawagan kita, Kapatid . . .
Sabay tayong nanghiram ng aklat,
sa Aklatan ng Pag-asa,
Kaya’t sakdal-pait nang nabalitaan ko
ang talaan ng buhay mo’y binawi na
Pilit pinapawi
Ng paroo’t paritong mga alon
at ihip ng hangin
Ang mga impit naming pahatid
Na iniukit
Ng mga palihim na hikbi
Sa tila natutulog na buhanginan
Sa dalampasigan
Ng ‘yong puso. Namamahinga ka na ba
aming Kasama?

Hindi mawawala
ang iyong pangalan
sa harap ng pinid na pintuan
Ng kani-kanina lang
Ay dambana
Ng iyong tila hindi nangangalay na panulat
At tabernakulo
Ng namimitig na mga binti
Ng nagtalumpating tinig.

Namamahinga ka na kapatid.
Ngunit hindi mapipipi ang batingaw
Na kahapon, ngayon at bukas ay magtatawag
Ng mga kapanalig,
Pagmamahal sa kapwa, sa bayan, sa kalikasan, sa daigdig.

Sumisilip na ang araw.
Mamamaalam na ang mga tala.
Patuloy na nagliliwanag ang bituing
Ikaw, oo, ikaw, maningning.

Hihimlay kang tahimik
sa puntod at bantayog
ng mga hindi namin malilimutang
Paninindigan. Pahayag. Panawagan. Paala-ala.
dahil sa isip at puso namin, isang Bayani ka
at maraming salamat na ikaw ay nakilala
at aming nakasama.

para kay Dr. Perry S. Ong, Oktubre 2, 1960-Marso 2, 2019;
Bayani ng Laksambuhay at Agham sa Pilipinas
[This poem is dedicated to Dr. Perry S. Ong, Dean of the College of Science, University of the Philippines Diliman and the most prominent leader of the conservation movement in the Philippines until his untimely demise.].

Jun Lit Feb 2019

Dalit sa litrato ng aming lumang bahay

Kupas na ang ‘yong larawan
Ala-ala kong sulyapan
Ang kahapong s’yang tahanan
Anino na lang nang bal’kan.

Dalit is a form of traditional poetry in Tagalog (southern part of Luzon Island, Philippines) with four lines, each with eight syllables. Here's an English translation:
Dalit Poem to a photograph of our old home

Your photograph's faded with thee.
I threw a glance at your mem'ry
The yesterday that was my Home
now just a shadow I reckon.

Jun Lit Feb 2019

Tsuki

Amidst dark moments
One brightly lit moon's shining . . .
We're always hoping.

The title was changed in a later posting to "Blue Moon."

#haikuinformnatureintheme

Jun Lit Feb 2019

Sick Poems - I

Finding poetry in a disease
is like looking for a nugget
of gold in one Smokey Mountain
of revolting, rotting *******.

A poem is precious.
It breathes us life.
Even one about death
brings hope of imagined
heavens and dreads of
eternal incomplete combustion,
but dengue ***** dry
its hapless victims.

Baby mossies
are cheering,
wriggling,
today, detritus feeding . . .
Tomorrow, the girls among them turning
into little vampires blood feeding;
and the boys will have for drinking
plant juices like wines brewing.
Rightly or not, the winged being
receives much of the blame, poor thing!

The greater pain, the bigger burden,
felt greatly by the downtrodden,
however, lies not so much in the bitten
nor the biter - always the villain.

When those whose tasks are meant to serve,
serve not the ones who need, but only themselves
When solicitors utter Hippocratic mantras
Like gurus descended from Oriental Olympuses
but in truth are Proud Marys burning with empty heads . . .

And when the multitudes blind and blinded,
in Plato’s Cave chained, demented
faithfully follow the falsehoods preached
by the High Priests and Priestesses:
I recall the scenarios of old tales told
of Pied Pipers leading kids out of Hamelin’s fold
to a treacherous realm of eternal repose.

And a nation’s bound to decompose.