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Paano kaya?

Mahal ko ang pilipinas. Sobra.
Mahal ko ang bansang aking kinalakhan.
Mahal ko ang aking pinanggalingan. Kung saan ako nag aral, san tumira, saan nagsisimba. Kung saan naliligo, umiihi, tumatae, Mahal ko!

Pero paano ko kaya matatanggap ang nangyayari sa aking bansa?
Paano ko kaya tatanggapin ang mga basura sa daan.
Ang mga binebentang damit na sinuot muna nila.
Ang mga piniritong fish ball na kahapon pa ang mantika.

Paano kaya?

Sa jeep, na para na kayong sardinas na pinagkasya sa isang lata.
Sa lrt, natumaas man ang bayad. Dama mo parin ang mga pagong na kumikilos at mga amoy na gugustuhin mo na lang amuyin.
Sa paaralan, titiisin ang sira sirang mga silid aralan para sa pangarap na mahirap abutin.

Paano kaya?
Sa pilipiling lugar, na kapag nakakita ng umiilaw na iphone ay parang hokage na mabilis na mang aagaw.
Sa ilalim ng tulay, kapag napadaan kay makikita ang pamilyang walang makain na nakahiga sa kamang matigas at ngunit hindi mabigat dalhin kung saan saan.

Paano kaya?
Ang mga kalsadang pinipilit tapusin kahit mas una pang tinapos ang perang inilaan ng sang katauhan.

Paano kaya?
Ang mga taong halos mamatay sa pagod na tila butas ang bulsa at hindi malagyan ng laman.

Paano kaya?
Sinubukan kong alamin kung saan ito nagsimula. Kung sino ang gumawa? Kung kailan? Kung paano? Kung bakit nandito?
Hanggang napatunayan ko, na kahit ganito ang tinuturi kong bansa.
Alam kong katangi tangi parin ito.

Hindi man kami tulad ng iniisip nyong bansa.
Ang bansang ito ang pinaka mapagmahal ra lahat.

Kayang makipag kaibigan sa kahit sinong tao. Kayang umintindi ng kapwa. marunong makisama. Mapagbigay.

Higit sa lahat sa kabila ng mga nangyayari sa amin, kahit wala nang kakainin, kahit nag aaway na kayo, kahit madami ng problema at  kahit may taning na ang buhay.

MASAYA pa rin. Ang mga ngiti, galak, at tuwang ito ang hindi nila matutumbasan ng iba.
elea Feb 2016
"Bago yan ah"* aniya ng makita ang converse kong pula.

Wala eh, wala nako maisip para makuha ang antensyon mo, mapansin mo.
Naubos nga lahat ng ipon ko para sa sapatos na to.
Balita ko kasi mahilig ka daw sa kulay pula at nangongolekta ka daw ng mga branded na sapatos.

Ako yung tipong hindi maganda namay porselanang kutis gaya ng iba.
Hindi katangkaran, pero pwede nadin para sa isang kolehiyala.
Walang bag na ang tatak ay Guess,
At magagandang damit na galing sa Mall.

Simple lang ako, laging may hawak na libro.
Nalilimutan mag suklay dahil baka maiwan ng jeep papuntang terminal ng LRT.
Hindi naliligo sa pabango na padala galing abrod.
At higit sa lahat, hindi nag susuot ng ibang sapatos bukod sa pinag lumaan kong rubber shoes.

"Converse yan diba?" Dagdag niya ng hindi ako sumagot sa pag pansin niya.

Ang totoo ay hindi ko alam ang sasabihin.
Hindi ko alam pano ibubuka ang mga bibig at sasagot ng "Oo, buti naman napansin mo".
Wala ako lakas ng loob.

Tanging pag tango nalang ng ulo ang  kilos na kayang gawin ng katawan ko.

Kumaripas ako ng pag lakad papunta sa silya sa dulo ng masikip na klasrum.

Nag simula ang klase.
Hindi ako maka pokus sa sinasabi ng Prof patungkol sa "Theory of relativity" ni Einstein.

Tumititig sa wall clock sa taas ng pisara na kinatatayuan ni Ma'am Montemayor.

Sa wakas biglang tumunog ang bell na nag sasabing tapos na ang klase.

Palabas na ako nang muli mo kong tawagin.

"Hi, pwede ba ako sumabay sayo mag lakad papunta sa Math class?alam mo naman ayaw ni Sir. Henry ng late" pabiro **** sinabi.

Wala nakong nasabi kundi ang mga katagang "Okay lang naman".

Tinatago ang ngiti na gusto ng mag kumawala, habang nag iisip at nag papasalamat sa Converse kong Pula.
#tagalog #sneakerhead #alayanNgpagtingin
-pbwf-
Sofia Paderes Jan 2020
Before me
is a brave queen of war
slicing her enemies' heads with the sharp,
cutting edges of the liquid eyeliner
she so expertly paints upon her skin,
unshaken by her rusting metal steed's
sudden jolts and halts.

Her long hair
whips forward with the wind, but
she, unscathed by its clawing
at her freshly powdered cheeks, tosses
the strands away, tames them. Stains
her lips with a blood-red shade, sits
in her own silence, away from the earsplitting
clanging and screeching and thundering chaos
of the battle that rages around her.

It is hard not to stare.

I can only admire her from where I cower,
behind a beaten-up backpack with fraying straps,
pushing my dusty glasses to see her better,
already defeated. Already surrendered.

Funny how the only thing I know
about the stranger beside me
is that our kissing knees and shoulders,
snug against each other,
is the warmest thing I've felt in a while.
Prompt: Commute thoughts

We've all admired those daring women putting makeup on the jeep, looking fresh and clean despite being squeezed in between other sweaty humans. We've all been so tired that a gentle touch from a stranger when you're both stuck together in a crowded jeep feels like the kindest, nicest thing in the world.
Ambita Krkic Dec 2010
Picture yourself standing on the sidewalk of a busy, noise - polluted street somewhere in the city. Today, these streets are packed with people, all going places (some seem to just be wandering aimlessly, in deep thought), crossing streets side by side. As they pass you by, a fusion of scents greet your nostrils: the different odors of their sweat, some even chance upon passing the unholy stench of gas both ways, from up and down. This makes you dizzy, though you can’t complain (aloud at least). The rattle of a street child’s cup of coins, you ignore that. You have way too much on your mind. Yet, you stand rooted to the spot. Smoke-belching vehicles soon decide to join the scene, emitting thick, black puffs of smog enough to send an asthmatic, or anyone for that matter, to the hospital. Some pass by as slow as turtles. Most of them, however zoom past you, leaving you in a momentary state of disorientation, your heart’s drum-like pounding the only proof of their passing. In the midst of all this, you unconsciously glance at your watch. 2:30, it reads. Suddenly, it occurs to you: The world moves so fast doesn’t it? We all must be racing against the hands of time, seemingly synched to the clicking sounds of a metronome. When does this race end? How much time does the world have? You start to wonder how much time you have left. Flashbacks of your life come back at you like a collage. One second, you’re younger and innocent. The next, you are who you are now ---- and most things you wish you could change. You, as an infant banging your rattle ceaselessly, tugging at your mother’s skirt wiping your tears on the first day of school. A vivid memory of the night you downed your first bottle of beer---too fast. Your first kiss was good (or better said, imagining what it’s like to be kissed). Oh, and who could forget you egg-rolling on the grass --- drunk? Do you remember the day you fell off a chair from happiness and shock as you checked to see if you made it in --- and you did? You can almost feel the weight of the school medals you garnered for speeches and writing competitions on your neck. You can almost taste the menthol from your first and only cigarette puff on your lips. The sound of your coughing says you’re never going to do that again. Heck, yeah. You made some bad choices, huh? Some good, of course – don’t worry. You’re not that much of a mess-up. You continue your reverie on the way home on the LRT (another one of the firsts you remember --- going to Katipunan. You looked so ridiculous, the only one with a huge grin on her face as you held onto a pole, finally knowing what it felt like to be a sardine in a can). Some time in the middle of the ride, still in your nostalgic state, you notice a bumper sticker stuck on one of the windows. It read “Slow down”. Under that, “What will YOU do now?”
05022020

I was standing in the middle of worship
People were worshipping God
And everyone was singing.
There’re pairs but they don’t have any relationship
One sings beside the other, one sings alone.

There were two different hymns
Or everyone was just voicing their hearts out
I ain’t a singer and yet I heard my voice good.
And together with others,
The first song I was singing was a heavy song
I was about to kneel,
I was bowing my head.

And there I recognized that many songs are being sung.
I heard someone said from the back,
“Kelan ba papalitan yung kanta?”
I recognized what has been said
But I can't control the words coming from my mouth,
And from the bottom of my heart,
It just felt so natural --
It felt so relieving.

Both of my hands started grasping a railing
As I continued in the spirit of worship.
And then the song changed to an upbeat one
And then to “Hosanna.”

While everyone was singing “Hosanna”
Someone has changed in the atmosphere.
I saw my body gliding and others too
People started coming while I was singing with others.

Some remained walking towards us --
Seeing but they’re only looking at us
But I never heard and seen anyone of them singing.
I was even shocked with myself
Because I was dancing like I was a good dancer
Those who sing also do their dancing
As if we were leading everyone else
But it seems they have another place to go with.

I recognized that they were walking
While I was flying with others.
Then I saw a man who’s also dancing and singing
And he was very good at it
We continued guiding those who are walking.

Then, the scene turned out to be an LRT station
But there was no means of transportation
I saw people strolling beside a platform
On my right side
And they’re somehow stuck
But I saw no reaction from them.

And there was a stair going upwards
It's like in the form of an escalator
I was holding the railing and it was steady
But the steps seemed to be invisible
All I know was: it’s a staircase.

Then I saw the man singing and dancing earlier
Telling the people to raise their hands
And they turned to look like zombies
They were obeying and copying what was instructed to them
And we were all giving them examples
As we do the “arms forward” thing.

Then I heard someone said,
“There’s something wrong,”
And he was pertaining to those people in the platform
They were about to chase a woman
And he pointed her out
And then the dream ended —
The dream ended and as I opened up my eyes,
I found my heartbeat too fast.
Lev Rosario Nov 2020
I found a poem
In an LRT station
Garbage can
Written on the back
Of a 7-11 receipt
In blue ink

It was a letter
Of heartbreak to
A hometown lover
Four stanzas
And a couplet

And then the train
Arrives in cold blood
Like an army captain
But I decided
Not to join

There is something else
That needs my
Presence
I put the receipt
Back in its place

— The End —