Pagsalig ang nagbugkos natong duha,
Hinungdan nganung kita nahimong managhigala,
Pero na unsa kini pagkahitabua?
Ania ang atong estorya.
Kung abrihan ko ang mga panid ug dahon sa kasaysayan,
Ug kung ako kini tuki-tuki-on sa makadaghan,
Dili ko mahikalimtan ang kagabin-on nga atong naagi-an.
Ana-a ako sa mangitngit na dapit,
Ug sa dehang dunay hubog nga sa akoa gihapit,
Naghilak ako sa daplin nga hilit,
Ug ikaw nga saksi, mitawag sa imong mama sa makalit.
Gelakag kini  sa imong mama ug walis tingting,
Ako nga nagluha ug katawa,
Kay siya naka tini-il ra.
Emu dayon akong gegakus,
Aron mawala ang akong kahadlok ug kaligutgot.
Sukad adto kita nagkahigala,
Ang panganod galantaw natung duha,
Malipayon kita nga nagtampisaw,
Sa tubig nga matin-aw.
Ug sa dehang kita manginhas na,
Pwerte natung lipaya
Sa matag kinasun nga makuha ta,
Asta natung bebuha
Ug sa dehang emu akong gedala sa kapilya,
Nadunggan nato ang kanta nga nag-uluhang, "Bato balani Sa Gugma".

Malipayon kita nga nagpunit sa mga kendi,
Kini gakahitabo kada gabii,
Sinugdanan sa atong pagtuo sa Balaang Rosaryo,
Ug kay Senior Santo Nino.

Abe-----abe kog kato dili matapos,
Apan pagka-ugma kita taman nalang sa pag gakus,
Naghilaka ta ug nagbangutan,
Nagdagayday ang mga luha sa atong dughan,
Samtang ikaw ug ang emung pamilya,
Naghatud namu sa pantalan,
Ang emung mga kamut emu dayun hinay-hinay nga gebuy-an.

Getan-aw ko ang layo nga mga barko,
Ug gi-ingon ako, " Goodbye Cebu mobalik ako!".

Walay adlaw ug kagabi-on,
Nga ako dili nimo padamguhon,
Nag-alindasa, nagsalimu-ang,
ang akong kasing-kasing ug dughan,
Kay gepangandoy kong kita magkita na.

Katorse katuig ang nilabay,
Abe nakug kita wala nay panag estoryahay,
Natingala na lang ko sa "text message" nemu bai.
Abe mo nga ikaw ako ng gekalimtan.

Salamat! kay gipili mo ang kurso natung duha,
Malipayon ako higala,
Hilabi na nagla-um ka ,
Nga ako mubalik pa.

Way sukod ang imong pagsalig sa akoa,
Wa jud ka nagbag-o,
Gasa ka nga gehatag kanako a Ginoo,
Abe! nakug sakit ang musalig dala ang pagla-um,
Pero luyo sa mga dag-um,
Nagpahipi ang kamatuoran ug paghandum.

Sakto ko! nga ang pitik sa akong kasing-kasing,
Mao sadang getinguha mo,
Samtang nadunggan ko ang tingog mo,
Wa jud kay pagbag-o,
Ngisi! todo-max ka detso.

Piso-piso para sa barko,
Akong paningkamut para nemu,
Aron dili masayang ang atong mga tenguha ug damgo.

Hulata ko sa pantalan,
Saksi kini sa atong pagluha,
Pero mu abot ang panahon
Nga kini mahimong saksi sa atong kasadya!

Salamat! tungod kay dagat man ang pagitan,
Dili kini mahimong babag sa atong padulngan,
Para magpadayon ang relasyon,
Nga nahimo nakung inspirasyon!



"LDR" tang duha!
Wala jud d.i forever,
Pero na-ay together.

Rain dancers

Children bring forth

The deluge

Joyous and ****

Boogie away the heat of our Cebu

Wash away the grime

The worries of Times

The sufferings

Of war, in Mindanao, in you...

Dance oh Children

Of Sulu seas

Blissful droplets

Mini Filipinos me

Though the air force jets

Thunder overhead

Weep not lil ones

They are further dead & gone

And now in these drops of sky

We drank

Bathed in the Life

Which we give thanks

So, bring forth

All earthly deluge

We babes of Cebu

Shower

In the sacrosanct

Blossom in the truth.

(this is my Philippines)

I am You.

Mula sa higanteng alpombrang balot
Bumuhos ang walong henerasyon halos
Ng karit, palay, tagtuyot, unos
Martilyo, pako, pagpapakaputa sa utos!
Aba, hindi pangako ng sistema ang presensya ni Hesus!

Sa madilim na purgatoryo ng impiyerno at kalangitan,
Sa mahiwagang pagitan ng lunsuran at lansangan
Nagka-prusisyon ang dibinong Toledong bayan
‘Pagkat naipasalangit na
Ang Multo/Kapre/Bal-bal/Berberoka/
Aswang/Mangkukulam/Agta/Santelmo/
Batibat/Berbalang/Bungisngis/Diwata
Na sumiil sa banal na pook ng Toledo.

Pitu-pituhan ang naging palitan
Sa pagbuhat sa bangkay ni Rodiano Abduhan.
“Dito ako sa ulo.” “Pasmado ka ba? Larga na!”
Padulas-dulas ang kapit, sumisilip na ang paa
At sa bawat yapak, bumuhos ang patak
Ng dugong pesante sa sagradong Toledong lupa.

Rodiano Abduhan, mas kilala bilang Tatay Godong
Manggagamot, tagalunas ng salot, kampon ng Diyos,
Ika ng iilang nagpatingin sa mahiwagang tatang,
Pero manyak, magnanakaw, aswang, mangkukulam
Kamo ng nagmula sa abang Toledong bayan.
‘Pagkat ang pugad niya’y sa kanayunan, sa kalaliman, sa kaibuturan,
Ng mailap na lansangang ng Diyos tinalikuran.

Kaya nang ang taumbaya’y nakabatid
Na lumubha ang sakit ng pamangking si Adring,
At na natagpuang bukbukin ang bangkay ni Celine,
Kaniya-kaniyang satsat, sitsit, at hirit
Ang kumapal sa amihan ng Toledong hangin.

“Mangkukulam! Heto yung bumati sa Adring kong pamangkin!”
Kaya ng taumbaya’y binatikos at siniraan sa lihim
Sa walwal o gimik, pagkalaklak ng gin.

“Berbalang! ‘Di ka umawat hanggang naubos ang dugo!”
Kaya’t nang-imprinta ang madla ng mga galos abot sa buto
Tatak Cebu! Tatak lungsod ng Toledo!

“Aswang! Luwal ng putang nakunan!”
Kung kaya’t naisama rin ang anak ni Abduhan
Sa kawawang listahan ng mapapaslang.

Biro mo! Ang manggagawa ng himala
Natamaan ng sumbi ng masaklap na realidad!
Ay, hindi makaliligtas ang dukha
Sa kamandag ng pader ng matayog na siyudad!

Pero nang maabot ang mapanglaw na kremahan,
Ang mailap na lubid ng buhay at kamatayan
Ni Rodiano Abduhan, aswang at mangkukulam,
Ng dugong maliliwat ay tuluyan siyang naubusan.
Maputla niyang balat, sa abong langit ay umagpang.
Inaakit ng lagay na hamak na sa wakas ay tumahan.
Pero nang maunawaan niya na sa kaniyang kamatayan
Mapupuksa ang kasarinlan at kalayaan,
‘Pagkat siya ang sisidlan ng dugong maglilinang,
Kampeon ng kanayunan, hari ng himagsikan,

Nasapian ni Lazaro.
Nabuhay.
Natauhan.

Magsasaka, mangingisda, labandera, gerilya.
Artista, mayora, tindera, tsismosa.
Karpintero, ****, kutsero, kaminero.
Abugado, inhinyero, piloto, maestro.
Ninais ng lungsod ang pagsapit ng mundo
Sa mahinhing mundo ng mga diwata’t engkanto.
Oo lang nang oo, bawal mangontrabida,
Kaya kung gusto nila ng Multo/Kapre/Bal-bal/Berberoka
Ano pang magagawa kundi patabain ang mataba?

So natunaw ang pintura
Ng nagbabalat na ngang dingding
Nabawian ng Sol at Luna
Ang kalangitang sadya nang makulimlim
Ang basang semento ay nauhaw
At naging nagbabantang lamig.

Mula sa naagnas na kabaong sa hukay lumaya
Ang mga magsasaka, mangingisda, labandera, gerilya
Ang mga Batibat/Berbalang/Bungisngis/Diwata.
Mula sa abo sa loob ng saro nagka-anyo
Ang mga karpintero, ****, kutsero, kaminero
Ang mga Aswang/Mangkukulam/Agta/Santelmo.

Tsaka humayo’t bumulong kay Abduhan
Nang siya’y mailatag sa loob ng makinarya.
Tsaka niya nagunita ang anak at asawa
Nombrado na atang manananggal at tiyanak.
At ang bawat katiting na patak ng dugo
Na hinayaan niyang umagos, bumuhos, tumulo
Sa lupang Toledo, lupa ng berdugo’t demonyo.
Doon niya nabatid kung saan totoong nagmula
Ang mga Multo/Kapre/Bal-bal/Berberoka,
Aswang/Mangkukulam/Agta/Santelmo,
Batibat/Berbalang/Bungisngis/Diwata.

At doon nabuhay ang Santelmo ng Toledo;
Nang umalpas mula sa crematorium si Rodiano Abduhan,
‘Di na mas hahaba ang buhok, at nakatatak ang pangalan
Sa kaniyang mga galos at sugat, habang
Noo’y banig ang balot, ngayo’y apoy na bagong silang.
At nang nadaanan niya ang mga balintataw
Ng mayayamang poong siya mismo ang nakapukaw,
Nabatid niya kung bakit kailangan ng Toledo ng isang halimaw.

I can write of Manila at night like the greats do of Paris. Not Manila in the morning, for it matters then, but Manila at night where it doesn't matter if it is new or old or if you are rich or poor, because it all blends into the moonlit darkness and that is when Manila becomes like a love letter. It may be Cebu that I love, but it is Manila that captivates me.

To the farmer, who left Manila for America to escape the war, and returned to see only a burned down church. To the young boy, a hundred years later, who does not see the church, but sees the romance of a concrete city. And to the ill man sitting on the corner of a street in Ermita, who has seen more of life and Manila than any of us ever will or ever can or ever want to. To the jazz bars tucked deep in Quezon where the music is sweetest, and to the congregation of poets who meet at their secret place in Makati on sacred nights to talk of the country they write for. Manila does not end.

But Manila is no moveable feast- it is a grand mystery that is far too heavy to take with you. Paris was loved because it was easy to love. The same way Florence was loved because it was easy to. Manila is far too rough to make for easy loving, but the beauty is there for everyone but the blind to see, and even then it is there for the blind to feel. One just has to try hard enough. It is what Manila represents, for it represents not the American dream, but the Filipino ambition to create their own. It does not become a question of how can you. It never will. It is a question of how can you not be romantic of Manila?

Overcrowded a hollow sound

In the circumference of birdsong

Rising with the Sun

As roosters crow morning

Wake-up calls

There in Cebu / House

Full of family

Pieces of my other me

Feeding many mouths

That overcrowded feeling / not again

A nest that homes

A clutch of poor

Cuckoos

Consuming, so many babies

Paradise islands

Third world poverty

Not so far away

White man and money

A supposed land of milk & honey

Beyond the tundra snow

Bleak / must speak English

The beautiful broken

The overgrowth of crowding

it's called city life

Unlike Manila

Although artifice and hollow

Full of the fragrances

Colored by Birdsong

Oh beautiful life / I am drowning

In the thicknesses of pollutant

Mouths speaking

ill

Humanity misbegotten / Understood

We connect with nuttin'

“nothing is the cure

When nothing was wrong

With you”

Birdsong in twilight

Xylophone-stars across the ocean blue

Teeth of night

The cold chime

Befallen

In the infinite / magic of you

Oh love I let me

Overcrowd

Still this loneliness

Feels so very loud...

Then I hear / halcyon Birdsong

The soft feelings of truth

Oh love!

Oh god!

Oh my!

*Goodness you.

there we were
in a café
enjoying each other's company

I looked to my right
and saw a Filipina lady
and a white man
eating their breakfasts silently

"she seems unhappy
and anxious"
I thought to myself

"*******?"
I asked my mother.
she says yes and nods.

I hope that one day
that lady won't have
to sell herself

to make a living.

The beautiful coast of Cebu,
What a view.
There comes an unexpected guests,
Dolphins following the waves of the sea.
It sure was beautiful scene.
Yet I wonder, this beautiful view reflected in memories of you.
This exotic beauty of nature will always reminds me of you.

i.

Off to Fuga island
Next to the pamalican;
Then to Bucas grande
In the turquoise shallow end's.

ii.

Next, the Mactan
Wherein the grain's art caramel tan;
Then to the land of Coran
And Cebu, where the shore meet's the dawn.

iii.

Hiding safely, on Bohol isle
There art tarsier, and thing's of wild;
Diogo islet next, an uninhabitable place
Me and mine Reyna shalt explore it, with tribal paint on face.

iv.

Off, to the great Santa Cruz
Ourn feet, in the pink corraline sand;
Zamboanga City, the southern region
Of this Filipino relic strand..

v.

Whilst next the Sangat
The western part of this expedition;
Whilst doing all this sight-seeing
It shalt be with mine Jane nagley, in earth's natural kitchen.



©Brandon nagley
©Lonesome poet's poetry
©Earl Jane nagley dedication

I was ******* pretty Miss Cebu in my soft, queen bed when a fatal cerebral vasospasm quickly killed my Miss Cebu-*******-*** dead

Girl from commotes
Nov 4th 2009 Philippines

She was the easiest to be with
The dreamiest one i adore
How can i find her once more?
When shes on some distant shore
In the Philippines... in the islands lost in time...

Girl cute girl and her mom
Far away is she now still I cry to find try to somehow try to be with her if only in my mind...

Girl from commotes

Cutest girl from the Philippines
Wait for me
I adore you...

She asked did you write these songs?
Your songs are really good!

Can I live with you and your mom?
She replied we'd like that!
Love me, love my mom too!

Girl I love to never be without you
Girl from commotes south Philippines south of cebu...



Dave Clare

Rain dancers!

Children bring forth

The deluge

Joyous and ****

Boogie away the heat of our Cebu

Wash away the grime

The worries of Times

The sufferings

Of war, in Mindanao, in you...

Dance oh Children

Of Sulu seas

Blissful droplets

Mini Filipinos me

Though the air force jets

Thunder overhead

Weep not lil ones

They are further gone & dead.

And now in these drops of sky

We drank

Bathed in the Life

Which we give thanks

So, bring forth

All earthly deluge

We babes of Cebu

Shower

In the sacrosanct

Blossom in the Truth.

(this is my Philippines)

I am You.

The Suzy Berlinsky Happy Show  Aug 2017
Hello Isabelle, My neighbor's uncle used to travel to the island
of Cebu to take lessons in the deadly art of Kung Fu.

Isabelle  
Hi there.
I've heard Cebu is a beautiful place, I myself wanted to go there too..

The Suzy Berlinsky Happy Show  
The sooner we go, the happier I'll be.

Followers of Sfera would be glad to know that the Spanish fashion brand recently launched its Fall-Winter 2016 collection at its flagship store in SM Makati.

The event, held in partnership with the Spanish Chamber of Commerce in the Philippines (La Camara Manila), had the local Spanish community and members of the diplomatic corps among the guests.

They were treated to a fabulous showcase of the collection, along with cocktails and an exciting shopping experience.

In attendance were Maria Jose Carrasco, wife of Spanish Ambassador Luis Antonio Calvo, Pedro Pascual of the Commercial Office of the Embassy of Spain, Alfredo Roca, vice president external of La Camara Manila.

Sfera, part of Madrid’s renowned El Corte Ingles Group of Companies, opened its first store in Asia in the Philippines in 2014, on the second floor of The SM Store Makati. In 2015, it opened more branches—on the second level of Building B in SM Megamall, and on the upper ground floor of SM Seaside City Cebu.

September 2016 saw its first department store corner at The SM Store in Aura Premier.

This premium fast-fashion brand offers men’s and women’s wear, and is known for its ability to stay on-trend every season while maintaining good-quality clothing and affordability.

From SM, heading to the opposite side of town, we were treated to a gastronomic symphony at one of our favorite restaurants, Salvatore Cuomo.

The six-course dinner, prepared by chef Salvatore Cuomo himself, served as a sneak peek of his new dishes on the menu.

The Italian culinary titan has narrowed the boundaries between innovation and fine taste. The meal was a roller-coaster of dynamic flavors and textures—an array of small bites paired with light aperitif for starters, washed down with Italian and French medium-bodied red and white wines.

In true Salvatore Cuomo fashion, the ingredients used in the entire dinner were thoughtfully selected and sourced from the best producers in Europe and Asia.Read more at:http://www.marieaustralia.com/formal-dresses-sydney | www.marieaustralia.com/red-carpet-celebrity-dresses

Children crowd the fence outside Mactan Airport
Eager ***** little hands, reach out, malnourished and tanned.
Beggar women outside the cathedral with disfigured limbs,
Utter prayers in Visayan, selling thin homemade candles there.

i lament the humidity
of the air and the harsh
midday sun
i can feel my sweat
sticking on my skin
even if i just finished
another bath
what do the remaining
hours of this day hold?
nothing seems to make
me anticipate new mornings
anymore
i fall asleep easier now
maybe because i'm
always tired
is this day 10 or 100
or 1000
of being confined
in an endless cycle of
troughs and crests
i can no longer remember
the last time i was able
to sustain a sense of
contentment
i think it was when we were
leaving the port of Cebu
i had my very first cigarette
we were saying goodbye to
the fading city lights
the cold water crashing on
the sides of the ship is
enticing me to
jump off

(tales of my mamasita cont.)

lambayong grew wild on the roadside
a vine like any other
large hand sized leaves grew singly
never in bunches
although lush and green
it was taken for granted
lambayong lay largely left alone
ignored and all but forgotten

my friends and I jumped rope
on the street by the big house
there was always a noisy gaggle
of 4 or 5 jumpers
just out having fun
a long vine stripped of leaves and branches
made a great rope
one day a young passerby asked
if she could join us
we had never seen her before
but gladly let her jump in
for some reason she got mad at me
grabbed the vine, doubled it
and lashed me hard
she was about to hit me again
I reached out and caught the vine
wound it around my hand
and lashed back at her
she ran away sobbing and wailing
we never saw her again
and never found out who she was

during the Japanese occupation
not everyone evacuated like we did
a lovely family from Cebu stayed in town
one daughter was my fourth grade classmate
a beautiful mestiza with fair skin
and loose wavy hair
but we were never friends
just classmates
her family’s affluence was well known
father was a doctor and land owner
jealous lips whispered lies
“the family is supporting guerrillas”
denials fell on closed ears
perhaps willfully lost in translation
lack of evidence didn’t matter
there was an example to be made
brutality’s lesson to be taught
the entire family was beheaded
down to the four year old

Isabel was my best friend
we found each other before the war
I had many neighborhood friends
but Sabel was the only one welcome
to play in the big house
she had both parents
a big sister and brother
a younger brother
they lived in their own
nipa and bamboo house
stilted high from the ground
a beautiful girl with a dark complexion
long black ***** hair fell
in ringlets onto her forehead
we would bathe together
singing together in the bathroom
one kind uncle had his own wing
in the big house
he built me a sturdy swing for two
hung from the ceiling
big strong ropes held a wide wooden seat
Sabel and I would swing away together
sometimes upside down
like a couple of crazy monkeys
we would go up and down the stairs
arms over shoulders
forever singing songs
sometimes her family invited me to lunch
but she never had a meal with us
in the big house
her parents managed to support their family
mother provided laundry service
for the affluent in town
including my family
father traded goods
their life seemed happy and harmonious
after the war
my family returned to Carigara
don’t know what happened to them
I never saw Sabel again
but I never forgot her

We shall overcome the indignities dignitaries hide in ******* City,
as the cost to infidels for their infidelities is the price of Jesus's pity
when mobs turn against them & sanitary measures have gone ******
the major majorities proffer witless witticisms for what I say's witty
for the sake of a fixed *****'s runt puppy & a ***** cat's calico kitty
plunged from the plumbed gateway of George Gordon Battle Liddy
whose secret lifer Walter Mitty never suckled a sweet, Turkical *****
or hot **** east of Angkor Wat with red, new Cebu City pinay ******
as it keeps normal men from gravitating toward the homosexy flitty

She’s Luz-Vi-Minda
Priestess of Asia
When incubus harms
She takes out her charms…

Behold! Jose Rizal
Our hero national
Poet, doctor, researcher
Farmer, herder, school-builder
Fought Spaniards with paper and pen
Luzon’s charm – noblest of our men!

Behold! Lapu-Lapu!
Defender of Cebu
First terror of invaders
Famed Magellan’s death renders
Rammed Spaniards with native bolo
Visayas’ charm – quaintest hero!

Behold! Purmassuri!
Awesome Muslim lady
Wise heroine of Sulu
Foreigners cannot subdue
Disturbed Spaniards so tribesmen won
Mindanao’s charm – enemies thrown!

-11/27/2011
(Dumarao)
*First Incubus Collection

The farmer's cool, fiery eyes set gaze upon Cindy's smooth, recently-shaven thighs. “Engelbert & Tom Jones harmonize like Lennon & McCartney in that it's difficult to know where one voice begins and the other ends,” said she uncomfortably. The snow fell like salt in a mackerel canning plant. “Hurry,” the farmer hurriedly cautioned, “because our rural tattooed generation abides by the touchstone of their stained lives: doing **** *****.” She knew what that meant and was grateful that he said rural instead of hayseed. Meanwhile, back at the mayor's office young Nancy, the gorgeous Filipina from the classified department, was selling out to fat-cat, caffè Americano-types determined to destroy sleeping arrangements between the grafters of Cebu and the palm-greasers of Davao City. Describing two ages of a woman's life as tender and as ripe isn't respectful on the main island but typical throughout the U.S. empire. “Spoon cubed sugar my way young heifer,” said the man's man customer who wooed chinks like dental trickery remedies front-tooth interstices. Why does a woman, who considers herself a LADY, take offense to being called a ***** even though she named her ***** (her female dog): LADY? [Using wash-rag as a verb: “Did you wash-rag your ***?”; “Yes, I wash-ragged it!”] y [A dumb-*** child asks: “How does a spider **** ants?” An informed adult answers: “He grabs them and then beats the **** out of them!” An informed child asks: “Why does Pepsico use the kidney cells of aborted babies to flavor their beverages?” A dumb-*** adult answers: “Shut up!”]

Way up high at four feet eleven inches I pulled hard to Cebu's peak,
on a mattress where coco-brown areolae & **** made our bed creak
& like drinks without water, **** pigs made it bad for me to speak
& like winks without laughter, pig slants denied whitey John a leak
& given no food & no water, pig ***** tortured this boy for a week
as it's a shortened stay after jail that an adventurer must surely seek
& like gulps of bad water, pig slopes rendered manful whitey bleak
& when vinegared concoctions were for Jesus, a ****** grew weak
& 'cause vinegar tortured Christ, my pimpled nose grew like a beak
for it's clear I don't know nothing about nothing ***** carve in teak
nor why, when their rice crop is blighted, rice-eating Mongols freak
more than Judah-lovers upon learning Jesus gave Earth to the meek
righteously to dethrone kings whose trick or treat is to lurk & sneak
while fishes afraid to *** in a raging river must **** in a calm creek
far from the madding crowd of ******* over 50 in ****-mode shriek
who demand a **** Cheney up the **** & a truncheon to the cheek
From my bouffant never will I cringe with its upturned poison curls
as nature dictates what logic pushes: the ******* of boys in girls
once vegetarian nuts & carbon-credit ***** claim that soy's in pearls

SHUT UP!

WHO ASKED YOU?!

HAPPY BIRTHDAY!

PREPARE TO DIE!

Beware of the social security death registry. It's over baby! Accept it. I'm making it with your sister even though she's witless, because I like her better than you after the surgery made your ill parts *titless.