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w Nov 2016
18
Lahat naman tayo nakaramdam na ng lungkot
Lungkot na hindi mo alam kung saan nagmula
Lungkot na hindi mo alam kung ano ang dahilan
Lungkot na hindi mo alam kung ano ang kinahihinatnan
Pero ang pinaka nakakalungkot sa lahat e yung puno ng tao sa isang kwarto
Puno ng tunog at salita
Puno ng biruan at tawanan
Pero ramdam **** nag-iisa ka
Ramdam **** hindi ka nababagay sa lugar na naroon ka
Sa pagkakataong ito, hindi mo alam kung bakit hindi mo kayang makisali at magkunwaring masaya nalang
Kung sa mga nakaraang araw kinaya mo naman
Nakakapagod ano?
Nakakapagod magkunwaring masaya
Nakakapagod magkunwaring kaya mo pa
Pero alam naman natin
Eto yung pagod na hindi kayang gamutin ng pahinga
Eto yung pagod na hindi kayang idaan sa alak o ng yosi man lang
Eto yung pagod na hindi kayang idaan sa maghapong hilata sa kama
Eto yung pagod na hindi kayang gamutin o kahit dampi ng matinding menthol ng salonpas sa nangangalay na kasu-kasuan
Etong yung pagod na hindi kayang gamutin ng efficascent oil na suki ng buong pamilya
Eto yung pagod na dama ng kaibuturan at kaluluwa
Eto yung pagod na mahirap punan ng lunas kasi hindi mo alam kung bakit ang bigat sa pakiramdam
Iyong pag napabayaan o mali ang diagnosis mo e pwedeng lumikha ng sanga-sangangang maliit at mas komplikadong dahilan ng kapaguran
Kung pwede lang mapawi ang lungkot sa bawat malalim na buntong hininga ang ngalay na dama ng kaluluwa
Yung tuwang hatid damay lahat ng parte ng kabuuan
Isama mo pa pati yung sangkatutak na split ends mas lalo na ang mga pimples na ayaw kang lubayan
Alam ko,  pagod ka narin
Sadyang nakakapagod lang talagang gumising sa umagang walang kulay
Sa mundong malawak at mapaglaro
Sa mga tulang isinulat pero walang laman
Sa mga nasambit na salitang wala man lang naantig
Sa mga matang blanko na walang ningning
Sa mga patok na banat pero hindi naman nakinabang
Sa mga mensahe sa inbox na puro lang chain messages ang laman galing sa kakilala **** di na umahon sa pagiging jejemon
Sa mga text ni Baby aka 8888 na pinapaalala kang expired na pala ang iyong load
Talaga namang nakakapagod ang mundo
Minsan nga nakakagago
Itulog nalang natin 'to, ano?
Ayan tayo e, dinadaan sa tulog ang lahat
Pero malay mo nga naman, baka sakaling sa mahabang paglimot sa mundo, isang panaginip lang pala ang lahat ng sakit
Hindi lang siguro dahil tamad kaya natutulog pero eto na marahil yung senyales ng pagsuko sa laban
Sa pagpiling takasan panandalian ang buhay at baka sakaling sa panaginip matupad ang nais ng puso
Kasi sa totoong buhay ang hirap tanggapin ang bawat sampal ng pagkabigo
Yung bang dalawang klase ng pagkabigo
Yung todo bigay ka sa una pero bokya ka parin
At yung isa naman, yung natatakot ka ng sumunggab at tinikop ka na agad ng takot
Beterana na nga ata sa larangan ng pagiging olats
Nganga kung nganga
Nada kung nada
Itlog kung itlog
Pero hindi pa tapos ang kwento
Malayo pa ang lalakbayin
May natitira pa naman sigurong alas dyan na di pa naitataya
Positibo naman ako na sa negatibong sitwasyon makakaalpas din
Lahat naman ng bagay lumilipas, parang yung paboritong pantalon na sa kakasuot unti-unting kumukupas
Tulad ng chika ng karakter sa pinapanood kong korean nobela, Fighting daw!
Minsan may pakinabang din pala ang pagharap sa telebisyon sa ganitong pagkakataon
Ngayon, alas otso medya ng gabi sinusulat ang mga katagang nais ilabas ng puso
Habang wala pang tugon mula sa itaaas
Salamat sa oras na tibok ng puso
Kakapit muna ako kay Captain Yoo
Sa seryoso pero nakakakilig na ugali,
Sa swabe niyang mga the moves,
Sa grabehan niyang mga titig,
At sa mala-fairytale nilang storya,
Captain, ako nalang please!
Ang huling pagkapagod kong nais ireklamo
Siguro sa paghihintay na may isang Captain Yoo Shijin na darating, na kikiliti sa pagod kong puso at magbibigay ng rasong ipagpatuloy ang labang kinapusan na ng dahilan.
Eugene Mar 2018
Tag-araw na naman at tuwing sasapit ang buwan ng Marso, Abril at Mayo ay malimit pumunta sa isang hindi pamilyar na lugar ang magkakabarkadang sina Potsi, Tapsi, at Seksi.

Ang pagpunta sa baybayin o beach ay nakagawian na nilang gawin taon-taon. Ito rin ang kani-kanilang paraan upang pansamantalang makalayo sa napaka-abalang lugar sa Kamaynilaan.

"Pots, Sek, saan naman ang destinasyon natin ngayong taon? Malapit na ang holy week. Kaya dapat mayroon na tayong napagkasunduan," tanong ni Tapsi.

Tapsi ang palayaw na binigay sa kaniya ng kaniyang magulang dahil paborito niya ang pagkain ng iba't ibang uri ng tapa na may sinangag. Ang totoo niyang pangalan ay Mateo Paulo Sibucay.

Dahil dalawa lang naman silang lalaki, siya ang may pinakaguwapong mukha maliban na lamang kay Seksi na maganda dahil babae ito. Itinuturing din siyang hunk sa kanilang kompanya sa matikas na pangangatawan nito kahit hindi naman siya pumupunta sa gym.

"Perfect ang Laiya, Taps, Pots! Ano agree kayo?" namumungay ang mga mata ni Seksi nang sagutin nito ang tanong ni Tapsi.

Si Seksi, gaya ng palayaw niya ay kakikitaan naman ito ng kakaibang kaseksihan sa katawan. Malakas man itong lumamon ay hindi naman ito tumataba. Mahilig siya sa mga matatamis at paborito niya ang pagkain ng iba't ibang uri ng keyk. Ang tunay naman niyang pangalan ay Katarina Sek Javellana.

"Basta may mabibilhan ng pagkain kapag nagutom ako, okay na okay sa akin ang lugar, Taps at Sek," sagot naman ni Potsi habang may hawak-hawak na dalawang jolly hotdog sa kaniyang mga kamay.

Kulang na lamang ay mabilaukan ito dahil panay ang lamon nang lamon nito kahit may nginunguya pa sa bunganga. Siya ang mataba sa kanila pero ayaw niyang tinatawag niyang tawaging mataba. Mas gusto niya ang salitang chubby dahil cute daw ito sa pandinig niya. Ang tunay naman niyang pangalan ay Pocholo Travis Sigalado.

"Nakakahiya ka talaga, Potsi. Mabilaukan ka oy!" wika ni Tapsi.

"Heto, tissue o! Sahurin mo ang mga nahuhulog. Sayang din iyang pagkain. Alalahanin mo na maraming mga bata ang nagugutom sa kalsada," sabay abot naman ng tissue ni Seksi kay Potsi.

"Kaya nga sinisimot ko ang pagkain kasi sayang 'di ba?" ngunguso-ngusong sagot ni Potsi habang nagpapatuloy sa pagnguya sa kaniyang kinakain.

"Saan ba ang Laiya, Sek?" ani Tapsi.

"Sa Batangas lang naman siya. Mga isa't kalahati hanggang dalawang oras ang biyahe mula sa Maynila. Set na natin?" nakangiting sagot naman ni Sek habang ang dalawang hinlalaki ay naka-senyas ng aprub.

"Sa Black Saturday tayo pumunta para madami tayong makikitang mga tanawin!" gulat naman ang dalawa sa sinabi ni Potsi at pansamantala pang nagkatitigan sina Sek at Tapsi. Pagkatapos no'n ay nagsipagtawanan sila.

"Agree ako diyan sa Sabado de Gloria. Teka, 'di ba sa susunod na linggo na iyon?" ani Tapsi.

"Okay lang iyon, handa na rin naman tayo palagi e. Kaya walang problema. Sasakyan ko na lang ang gagamitin natin para makatipid tayo sa gasolina," si Potsi na ang sumagot matapos uminom ng mountain dew.

Tumango na lamang ang dalawa dahil alam naman nilang sa kanilang tatlo ay si Potsi ang laging handa. Minsan nga ay si Potsi na ang taya sa kanilang summer outing taon-taon e.

"At kung may problema kayo sa budget, ako na rin ang bahala ha? He-he," tatawa-tawang sabi ni Potsi na ikinatawa na rin naman ng dalawa.

"Maasahan ka talaga, Potsi! Gusto mo order pa kami ng pagkain sa iyo?"

Masayang nagtatawanan ang magbarkada sa Jollibee nang mga oras na iyon dahil sa kaibigan nilang si Potsi. Pare-pareho na rin naman silang may mga trabaho. Kaya wala nang problema sa kanila ang pera.

#TravelFriendsGoals ang motto nilang tatlo. Si Tapsi ay isang Real Estate Broker agent habang si Seksi naman ay isang Fashion Model at si Potsi ay isang Food Blogger. Lahat sila ay iisa ang hilig--ang maglakbay at libutin ang mga natatagong lugar sa Pilipinas.

*

Lumipas ang isang linggo, araw ng Sabado ay maagang umalis mula sa Quezon City ang magkakaibigan. Gamit ang sasakyan ni Potsi na Toyota Revo ay bumiyahe na sila. Si Potsi ang nagmamaneho, si Seksi naman ang tumitingin sa mapang dala niya habang si Tapsi ay panay ang kuha ng litrato sa sarili sa likuran ng sasakyan.

"Hindi ka ba nagsasawa sa mukha mo, Taps? Guwapong-guwapo ka sa sarili a!" tanong ni Potsi habang tumitingin-tingin sa rear-view mirror ng sasakyan. Nginitian na lamang siya ni Tapsi.

"Hayaan mo na 'yang broker nating kaibigan. Alam mo namang siya lang ang may magandang mukha sa inyong dalawa. Ha-ha," asar ni Sek kay Potsi.

"Anong guwapo? E kung pumayat ako 'di hamak na mas may hitsura ako kay Taps!" depensa naman ni Potsi.

"Oo na, Pots. Mas guwapo ka naman sa akin ng kalahating paligo lang naman kapag pumayat ka 'di ba? Bakit kasi ayaw mo akong samahan sa gym para makapag-work-out ka na rin at mabawasan ang bilbil mo?" ani Tapsi kay Potsi.

"Gusto mo ibaba kita sa gitna ng kalsada, Taps? At saka, hindi ko na kailangan mag-gym. Food is life. Enjoy life, enjoy goya sabi ng commercial ni Kim Chiu," naiinis na nagpapatwang sagot naman ni Potsi habang nakatuon pa rin ang atensiyon sa kalsada. Lihim na lamang na natawa si Seksi sa dalawang kaibigan.

"Ikaw naman, hindi na mabiro. Alam mo namang love kita e lalo na nang malaman kong love mo abs ko! Ha-ha," pang-aalaska na naman ni Tapsi.

"Mukha mo! Mas marami akong abs sa iyo, tabs nga lang at malalaki pa! Ha-ha," napuno na naman ng tawanan ang loob ng sasakyan. Asaran kung asaran. Iyan ang nakasanayan na nila.

Lumipas ang isang oras na biyahe ay nakatulog na sina Tapsi at Seksi habang si Potsi ay gising na gising ang diwa dahil habang nagmamaneho ay panay ang dukot nito sa baon niyang mga pagkain malapit sa kaniya.

Dumaan pa ang isang oras ay napansin ni Potsi na parang may mali sa direksyong tinatahak nila. Agad niyang kinuha ang mapang dala ni Seksi at tiningnan ito. Dahil hindi niya kabisado ang nakapaloob sa mapa, ginising na lamang niya si Seksi.

"Sek! Sek! SEEKKK!" tulog-mantika ang babae, kaya sumigaw na lamang si Potsi na ikinagulat din ni Tapsi sa back seat.

"Sorry. Naliligaw yata tayo. Tingnan mo ang mapa, Sek," agad namang tiningnan ni Seksi ang mapa at sinipat-sipat ang kinaroroonan nila.

"Ihinto mo nga ang sasakyan muna, Pots," sinunod naman nito si Sek at pansamantalang itinigil ang sasakyan.

"Ano, naliligaw na ba tayo, Sek?" binali-baligtad pa ni Seksi ang mapa para lang siguraduhing tama ang tinatahak nilang lugar patungo sa isang sikat na resort sa Laiya, Batangas. Ngunit, may napansin siyang kakaiba.

"Nasa Laiya na nga tayo, guys pero bakit tila napadpad tayo sa isang gubat na ito?" lahat ay napatingin sa itinuro ni Seksi sa mapa at binasa ang nakasulat doon.

"Satur-Death? Ano iyan? Hindi mo ba nakita ang lugar na iyan diyan sa mapa, Sek?" tila may kung anong kakaibang simoy ng hangin naman ang dumampi sa mga balat ng magkakaibigan ng mga oras na iyon matapos sambitin ang katagang Satur-death.

"Patingin nga? Kinilabutan ako sa pangalan e. Satur-death, tunog saturday o sabado tapos may death? Kamatayan? E 'di ba sabado ngayon? Don't tell me may mangyayaring hindi maganda sa atin?" sabay-sabay na nagkatinginan ang tatlo habang nakatigil ang sasakyan sa gitna ng kalsada na hindi pamilyar na lugar. Tahimik ang lugar na iyon at ni busina, tunog o mga sasakyan ay wala kang maririnig o makikitang napapadaan.  

"Ang mabuti pa, bumalik na lang tayo sa kung saan tayo kanina nanggagaling. Baka mali lang talaga ang napasukan natin. Baka shortcut lang ito, guys," nagtatapang-tapangang wika ni Seksi.

"Ang sabi sa pamahiin, kapag naligaw daw tayo, hubarin natin ang mga damit natin," nagpapatawang wika ni Potsi.

"Anong hubarin? Baka ang ibig **** sabihin, baligtarin!" pagkaklaro ni Tapsi.

"Pareho lang naman silang may 'rin' sa dulo e," dagdag pa ni Potsi. Napailing na lamang sina Tapsi at Seksi at naghubad na lamang upang baligtarin ang kanilang damit.

Matapos baligtarin ang damit ay pinaandar na ni Potsi ang sasakyan. Dahan-dahan na lamang niya itong minamaneho upang makabisado ang kalsadang kanilang tinatahak.

Tatlumpung minuto na ang nakalilipas nang matagpuan nila ang isang karatula sa gilid ng kalasda na nakadikit sa isang puno.

"THIS WAY TO LAIYA!"

Agad na nabuhayan ng loob ang magkakaibigan dahil sa nakitang sign board na nang tingnan nila sa mapa ay nakaukit naman iyon.

"Deretso na lang tayo, Potsi at mararating na natin ang mismong resort sa Laiya," iyan na lamang ang nasabi ni Seksi nang mga oras na iyon.

Nang malampasan nila ang karatula ay bigla na lang naging makulimlim ang kalangitan at biglang bumuhos ang ulan. At hindi nila inasahan ang isang palasong bumutas sa kaliwang gulong ng sinasakyan nilang Toyota Revo.

Gulat na gulat ang mukha ng magkakaibigan nang biglang gumewang-gewang ang sasakyan at nabundol ito sa isang puno. Mabuti na lamang at hindi sila napuruhan. Kaunting galos lamang ang kanilang natamo kaya agad din nilang inayos ang mga sarili.

Nang mga oras na iyon, sa side-mirror ng sasakyan ay may napansin si Seksi na papalapit sa kanilang kinaroroonan. Nang ilang metro na lamang ang layo nito sa kanilang sasakyan ay nakita niyang may hawak itong pana at palaso. Pinakawalan niya ito at tumama kaliwang bahagi ng side-mirror.

"BABA! LABAS! Takbo na tayo! May gustong pumatay sa atin. Labas na!" sa taranta ay isa-isang nagsilabasan sa loob ng sasakyan ang magkakaibigan. Napasubsob pa ang mukha ni Potsi sa damuhan pagkababa nito. Agad na inalalayan siya ni Tapsi upang makatayo habang si Seksi naman ay sumisigaw na.

"Takbo! Takbo na! Bilis!"

Walang lingon-lingon ay agad na silang nagsitakbuhan ngunit hindi pa man sila nakakahakbang ay isang palaso ang tumama sa kaliwang binti ni Potsi dahilan upang mapabitaw ito sa balikat ni Tapsi at natumba.

Napahiyaw sa sakit si Potsi. Gulantang naman ang mukha ni Seksi. Nagmadali siyang balikan ang kaibigan at tinulungang makatayo si Potsi dahil malapit na malapit na ang salarin sa kanila.

"Iwan niyo na ako, Taps, Sek!" kitang-kita na sa mga mata ni Potsi ang panghihinat at takot nang mga oras na iyon. Kahit umuulan ay pansin na pansing naluluha na ang kaibigan.

"Hindi ka namin pwedeng iwan dito, Pots! Sama-sama tayo! Sek, bilis iangat natin si Pots. Isa, dalawa, tatlo!" kahit mabigat ay nagawa pa rin nila itong itayo upang makatakbo at makalayo sa kung sino man ang gustong pumatay sa kanila.

Nang muli na silang hahakbang ay hindi nila napansin ang paglapit ng hindi pamilyar na nilalang at itinarak sa likuran ni Potsi ang matulis na palaso. Agad na lumingon sina Tapsi at Seksi sa salarin nang sumigaw nang malakas si Posti.

Doon ay mulagat silang pareho nang isa na namang palaso sana ang tatama at itatarak kay Sek. Mabuti na lamang ay maagap si Tapsi. Binitawan niya si Potsi at agad na sinugod ang salarin.

Parang torong iniuntog ni Tapsi ang ulo niya sa tiyan nito at pareho silang natumba sa magkabilang direksyon. Nang mga sandaling iyon, habang patuloy sa pagbuhos ang ulan ay naaninag ni Seksi ang mukha ng gustong pumatay sa kanila.

May suot itong maskara sa mukha na ang tanging makikita ay ang mga mata lamang niya. Ang mga balat sa leeg, kamay at paa ay parang bangkay na naagnas. Matatalim din ang mga kuko nito sa mga kamay at paa.

Itinuon ni Sek ang atensiyon sa kaibigang si Potsi na nang mga oras na iyon ay tila nawalan ng malay. Niyugyog-yugyog niya ang kaibigan. Pinakiramdaman niya rin ang pulso nito at pinakinggan ang tibok ng puso. Doon ay napagtanto niyang may pag-asa pa si Potsi.

"Taps! Buhay pa si Potsi!" sigaw niya sa kaibigan.

"Tumakas na kayo, Sek! Ako na ang bahala rito! Alis na!" agad na sinugod si Sek ng kaharap at nahagip ng tulis ng palaso ang kaniyang braso dahilan upang makaramdam siya ng hapdi.

Hinila-hila naman ni Sek si Potsi upang dalhin sa ligtas na lugar. Kahit hindi kaya ng kaniyang mga braso ay pinilit niya pa ring hilahin ito.

Samantala, dinampot ni Tapsi ang palasong nabitawan ng may sa kanibal na nilalang at pinatamaan ito sa pamamagitan ng pagtarak ng palaso. Parang gutom na gutom naman ito dahil naiilagan niya ang bawat pagtarak sa kaniya ng palaso.

Animo ay isang baliw na nakakita ng kaniyang laruan ang kaharap ni Tapsi. Hindi naman nagpatalo ang huli. Nang muling itatarak sa kaniya ang palaso ay napigilan niya ito at sinipa sa gitnang hita ang kaharap. Napahawak naman ito sa kaniyang hinaharap. Hindi na rin sinayang ni Tapsi ang pagkakataon upang makaganti.

Agad niyang kinuha ang palasong nabitawan niya at itinarak iyon sa leeg. Makailang beses niyang hinugot-baon ang palaso at itinarak muli sa iba pang bahagi ng katawan nito. Sa leeg, sa mata, sa butas ng tainga maging sa bunganga at ang panghuli sa puso nito.

Hingal na hingal man si Tapsi ay nagawa pa niyang tanggalin ang nakabalot na maskara sa mukha ng kaniyang kalaban at doon nakita ang inuuod-uod ng mukha. Hindi niya nasikmurang pagmasdan kaya nasuka si Tapsi. Kinalaunan ay pinuntahan na lamang niya si Sek na hindi pa rin nakakalayo sa kakahila sa kaibigang si Potsi.

Punong-puno ng dugo ang mga kamay, mukha at kasuotan ni Tapsi nang makita siya ni Sek. Nahuhugasan lamang iyon sa bawat patak at buhos ng ulan.

"Kailangan na nating makaalis dito, Taps. Kailangan maisugod si Potsi sa ospital!"

"Saan tayo hihingi ng tulong e, nakita mo namang mukhang halimaw ang nakalaban ko, Sek,"

"Si Potsi, Taps. Anong gagawin natin? Marami ng dugo ang nawala sa kaniya,"

"Hindi ko alam pero sana tumila na ang ulan nang makita na natin ang dinadaanan natin para makahingi tayo ng tulong. Tulungan mo na akong buhatin si Potsi. Siguro naman--"

Hindi pa natatapos ni Tapsi ang kaniyang sasabihin nang maramdaman niyang may matulis na bagay ang tumusok sa kaniyang batok na tumagos sa kaniyang lalamunan.

Sigaw naman nang sigaw si Sek at hindi na malaman ang gagawin. Nakita niyang may papalapit naman sa kinaroroonan nila. Kailangan na niyang iwanan ang mga kaibigan at iligtas ang kaniyang sarili para makapagtago.

Sa isang malaking puno sa 'di kalayuan ay doon nagtago si Sek. Tanging mga mata na lamang niya ang nagmamasid sa kung ano ang puwedeng gawin ng mga ito sa kaniyang mga kaibigan.

Katulad ng napatay ni Tapsi ay ganoon din ang mga hitsura ng kani-kanilang balat at mukha. Katulad sila ng mga kanibal na gustong pumatay ng tao. Isang babaeng may mahahabang buhok ang may hawak na tabak ang walang kaabog-abog na tumabas sa leeg ni Tapsi.

Gustuhin mang sumigaw ni Sek ay hindi niya magawa. Tinakpan na lamang niya ang kaniyang bunganga at parang gripong sunod-sunod naman sa pag-agos ang kaniyang mga luha nang makita ang sinapit ng kaibigang sina Tapsi at Potsi.

Gamit ang tabak ay isa-isa naman nilang pinagtataga ang katawan ni Potsi. Pinutulan nila ito ng braso at ibinigay sa isang maliit na batang sabik na sabik na kainin ito habang ang isang may katangkarang lalaki ay panay ang sipsip at dila nito sa ulong-pugot ni Tapsi.

Duwal na duwal na si Sek nang mga oras na iyon at agad na nagsuka. Sa kasamaang palad ay matalas ang pandinig nila at narinig siya ng isang matangkad na lalaki at inamoy-amoy ang paligid upang malaman ang kinaroroonan niya. Pigil-hininga naman si Sek at isiniksik ang sarili sa punong pinagtataguan niya. Takip-takip na rin niyang muli ang kaniyang bibig upang pigilan ang kaniyang paghikbi.

Nakiramdam pa si Sek sa kaniyang paligid kung naroroon pa ang mga halimaw. Tanging ang pintig na lamang ng kaniyang puso ang kaniyang narinig nang mga sandaling iyon kaya naman ay marahan siyang tumingin sa direksyon kung saan naroon ang kaniyang mga kaibigan.

Isang mata pa man lang ang kaniyang nailalabas nang biglang bumulaga sa kaniya ang isang inuuod na mala-demonyo ang mukhang nakangiti sa kaniya at hinawakan siya sa buhok.

Nagpupumiglas si Sek at pilit na tinatanggal ang kamay nito sa buho. Pero isang malakas na suntok sa sikmura ang kaniyang natikman. Agad siyang kinaladkad habang nakahawak pa rin ito sa kaniyang buhok at dinala sa kinaroroonan ng kaniyang mga patay na kaibigan.

Napatakip na lamang sa kaniyang bibig si Sek nang mapagmasdan ang sinapit ng kaniyang mga kaibigan sa kaniyang harapan.

Hawak-hawak pa rin ng lalaki ang kaniyang buhok ay agad na itinutok sa kaniyang leeg ang matulis na tabak. Pigil hininga at lunok-laway na lamang ang nagawa ni Sek nang unti-unting hinihiwa ang balat sa kaniyang leeg hanggang sa maabot ng tabak ang ugat nito. Sabay-saba
Allan Pangilinan Dec 2015
Disoras na naman ng gabi,
At ‘di ko alam kung saan ako aabutin ng kahangalang ito.
Andaming sabi-sabi sa mga tabi-tabi,
At naisipan kong isulat ang ilan sa mga ‘to.

Kung mabasa ito ng iba kong kakilala,
Siguradong pagti-tripan ako ng mga tangina.
Pero ayos lang, ano pa bang mawawala?
Sanay na ako’t sobrang kapal na ng aking mukha.

Nais ko lamang ibahagi ang isang kwento,
At marining kung ito’y naranasan na din ba ng iba.
Pagkat sa ikot ng ating mundo,
Ang kwentong magkapareho’y anong ginhawa.

Hayskul ako noon nang una kong masabi na, “Shet, gusto kita.”
Ano pang mga ka-kornihan ang ginawa ko’t sumulat ng tula.
Napainom pa ako ng energy drink para lang masabi,
Na sa tuwing nakikita kita’y abot langit naang aking ngiti.

Ngunit ayun lamang at ako’y ‘di pinalad.
Sa mga rasong tila dapat ay batid ko naman.
Paano nga ba ang sarili’y mailalakad,
Kung sa mga simpleng salop ako’y walang mailaman.

Naging mabuti naman pagkat ika’y minahal ng isang tunay na kaibigan,
‘Wag niyo na lamang akong imbitahan sa inyong kasal.
Sa ngayo’y ang alaala na ito’y dumaraan na lamang,
Tuwing napag-iisa’t ubod ng pagal.

Limang taon ang nalipas at muli kong sinubukan,
Sa ibang babae naman binuksan ang kalooban.
Akala ko ay pwede na,
Ngunit, puta, ‘di rin pala.

Ang hirap mo maging kaibigan,
Lahat ng tao sa paligid mo’y ako’y sinisiraan.
Batid kong may pagkakaiba ang ikot ng ating kaisipan,
Ngunit inakala kong posible ang pagkakasunduan.

‘Di ako ng tipo ng madalas magkagusto,
Lalo na din siguro sa mga pangyayaring nasulat rito.
Tingin man ng iba’y dapat maataas ang aking tiwala sa sarili,
Mga taong ‘may kaya niyan’ ay sadiyang pili.

Sa totoo lang, marami akong ayaw sa sarili ko,
Kaya’t malalim na takot ang nararamdaman ko.
Kahit na sabihin ng iba noon na gusto nila ako,
Dagli kong iisiping, “Sino niloloko mo?”

Nanay ko lang tumawag sa aking gwapo,
At sa mga manininda at drayber ko lang narinig ang, “Uy, pogi!”
Ngunit sa katotohanan pala’y iba-iba talaga ang pagtingin ng tao,
At minsa’y may mga tunay sa magkakagusto sa’yong mga ngiti.

May mga lumapit na rin,
Babae at lalaki, nagparamdam ng pagtingin.
Ngunit ayaw ko ring lokohin sila at ang aking sarili,
Kung ‘di naman tunay ang magiging pagpili.

Kaya siguro ako tumatandang ganito,
Malakas ang loob at mukhang masungit,
Dahil sa loob ng 20 taon ay kinaya ko ang sarili ko,
Mag-isa akong bumabangon at pumipikit.

Kinaya kong mamuhay ng mag-isa,
Kaya mahirap hanapan ng lugar ang para pa sa iba.
Ngunit ‘di tayo nawawalan ng pag-asa,
Na merong ‘siya’ na darating nga.

Andami nating hinarap na mga problema,
Iniyakan ‘to, uminom dahil dun at kung anu-ano pa.
Ngunit kung iisipin, masa madali **** malalampasan yan,
Kung may isang taong tunay kang pakikinggan.

Sa lahat ng ‘di buong nabiktima ni kupido,
Na sa’yo lamang lumipad ang palaso,
‘Wag kang bibitiw kapatid ko,
Ang araw ng iyong kasiyahan at ligaya’y pinapangako ko.

Patuloy na managarap at managinip,
Tadhana’y nariyan at unti-unting sisilip.
Malay mo bukas paggising mo,
Kayakap mo na ang taong pinapangarap mo.
Nasa banyo ako nang maisip ko ang ilang mga taludtod para sa likhang 'to.
Marge Redelicia Jun 2015
ang pangalan niya ay jesus.
oo, ang pangalan mismo ng kaibigan ko ay jesus.
seryoso ako.

si jesus
ay siyang dalaga,
morena, kulot ang buhok.
ang lalim ng mga dimples at
may mga pisngi na kay sarap kurotin.

parang musika ang himig ng kanyang tawa
at hindi kumpleto ang kanyang mga bati
kung walang kasamang yakap na kay higpit.
hindi ko gets kung bakit
hindi siya kumakain ng tinapay ng walang asukal.
at nakakatawa lang kung paano
lagi siyang may baon na sachet ng bear brand
na pinapapak niya kapag siya ay naiinip.

si jesus
ay isang iskolar,
magna *** laude standing,
bise presidente ng kanilang organisasyon.
balak mag law school pero may tumanggap na
nakumpanya sa kanya sa bgc.
meron din siyang mayamang boyfriend na
hinhatid siya pauwi sa taytay, rizal gabi-gabi.

huwebes ng nakaraang linggo,
bandang alas dyis:
si jesus
ay natagpuan sa labas ng kanilang bahay
walang malay
nakahandusay sa kalye.
sinugod sa ospital para kalagayan ay masuri.
ano kaya ang nangyari kay kawawang jesus?
heat stroke, stress, fatigue, high blood, food poisoning?
kulang lang ba sa tulog o pagkain?
walang natagpuang hindi pangkaraniwan kay jesus.
normal lang daw ang kanyang kalagayan
maliban lang sa paghinga niya na
tila humihikbi pero walang luha.
ilang oras din ang nagdaan bago si jesus
ay tuluyang nagising.
ang sabi ng doktor tungkol sa kanya:
depresyon, malubhang pagkalungkot
ang tunay at nag-iisang sanhi.

dahil kay jesus,
napagtanto ko na
hindi porket nakangiti,
masaya.
hindi porket bakas ang ligaya sa kanyang labi,
wala nang lungkot at lumbay na namamayani sa kanyang mga mata.
hindi porket ang lakas humalakhak kapag nandyan ka,
hindi na siya humihikbi, humahagulgol kapag wala siyang kasama.
hindi porket parang musika ang kanyang tawa,
hindi na siya umiiiyak nang umiiyak nang paulit-ulit-ulit na parang sirang plaka.
kasi
hindi porket masigla,
hindi na napapagod.
hindi porket matapang at palaban,
hindi na nasasaktan.
hindi porket laging nagbibigay, nag-aalay,
wala nang mga sariling pangangailangan.
hindi porket matalino,
ay may alam.

dahil kay Jesus,
ako'y namulat
na ang dami palang mga walang hiyang tao sa paligid ko
na nagsusuot ng mga maskarang pantago
sa kanilang mga kahinaan, takot, at sakit.
sa kabila pala ng kanilang mga yaman, tagumpay, talino, at
kung ano-ano pa mang sukatan ng galing
kung saan kinukumpara natin ng ating sarili
may isa palang
nabubulok, naagnas
na kaluluwa.

dahil kay jesus,
ako'y nalulungkot.
mata ko ay naluluha,
puso ko ay kumikirot
na may mga tao palang katulad niyang
naglalakbay nang di alam kung saan pupunta.
nangangarap na huwag na lang magising sa umaga.
nakuntento na lang sa wala.

dahil kay jesus,
ako'y naiilang
na ang nagaganap sa aking harapan
sa loob ng paaralan, bahay, o opisina
ay hindi tama.
maling-mali na
ang mga tao sa aking paligid ay nakakulong
sa selda ng anino at lamig.
hindi ito ang kanilang nararapat na tadhana.
hindi ka ba naiinis?

dahil kay jesus,
may apoy na nagpapaalab sa aking galit
nagtutulak sa akin na tumakbo
hangga't hindi natatama ang mali.

at lahat 'yan ay
sapagkat alam ko sa aking isip at puso na
dahil kay Hesus
lahat ng kahinaan at takot ay hindi na kailangan ikubli.
ilalapag na lang sa harap Niya
ang anumang alinlangan o mabigat na karamdaman.
wala nang pagpapanggap.
buong tapang na ipagmamalaki na
ito ay ako.
kasi ano man ang mangyari at kung sino man ako maging
ang tunay na dilag, dangal, at tagumpay
ay tanging
sa Kanya nakasalalay.

dahil kay Hesus
may ligaya at kapayapaan na hindi kaya matalos ng isip.
banayad ang layag
anumang dumaan na bagyo.
matatag nakakatindig
kahit yumanig pa ang lupa at magunaw man ang buong mundo.
dito sa dagat na kay lawak at lalim
hindi lalangoy,
kundi maglalakad, tatakbo,
lilipad pa nga sa ibabaw ng mga alon.

kay Hesus
may liwanag na pinapanatiling dilat
ang aking mga mata.
ano mang karumaldumal na karahasan ang masilayan,
hindi ako napapagod o nawawalan ng pag-asa.
hindi makukuntento at matatahimik.
hindi tatablan ng antok.
araw-gabi,
ako ay gising.

dalangin ko na sana puso mo rin ay hindi magmamanhid
na kailanman hindi mo masisikmura at matatanggap
ang kanilang sakit.
tulad ng dalagang si jesus
gusto nila ng pampahid para maibsan ang hapdi.
pero ang mayroon tayo
ay ang lunas, ang gamot,
ang sagot mismo.
tagos sa balat, sa puso diretso.
ang gamot ay ang dugo
na dumaloy sa mga palad Niya.
ang pangalan Niya ay Hesus.
*Hesu Kristo.
a spoken word.
japheth Aug 2018
Minsan mapapaisip ka na lang
kung ikaw ba ay nagkulang
o siya yung di lumaban.

Mapapaisip ka na lang
kung tama bang ikaw ang nahihirapan,
patuloy na lumalaban,
gulo’y subok na iniwasan,
upang di lang siya masaktan.

Mapapaisip ka na lang
kung kaya ka ba iniwan
kasi kahit gaano mo ipaglaban
— na lahat ng problema niya ikaw na pumapasan
umuuwi ka paring luhaan.

Tama ba na tratuhin ka ng ganito?
na parang laruan na pag sawa na sa iba,
ikaw naman ang gusto?

Tama ba na maramdaman mo
ang sakit na nasa iyong puso
kasi pinili mo siya
kahit alam ng utak mo
na di siya nakakatulong sayo?

Tama ba na sa dinami dami ng taong
araw araw na kumakausap sa’yo,
dito ka pa nahulog
sa taong di ka naman isasalo?

Ang dami kong sinasabi sa ibang tao
na maraming gago sa mundo
na di dapat sila papaloko.
Pero sa dulo din pala,
ako yung magmamahal ng tulad mo.

Pasalamat ka,
ako na yung nagparaya
siguro kasi di ko na rin kaya
lalo na’t nakita kitang may kasamang iba.

Tinago mo pa,
sinabi **** kaibigan mo lang siya
ngunit ang totoo pala,
pag di tayo magkasama
tumatakbo ka pabalik sa kanya.

Di na rin siguro ako magtataka
kung bakit mas pinili mo siya
baka dahil ang puso nyo’y nagtugma
o mas magaling lang siya sa kama.

Bakit nga ba ako nagpakatanga?
Nadaan mo nga lang ba ako sa iyong matatamis na salita,
mga pangakong di ko alam kung matutupad ba
o sadyang uhaw lang ako sa pagmamahal
kaya nung nakita mo ako’t nagpapakahangal
nasabi **** “pwede na ‘to, di rin naman ako tatagal.”  

Sinabi ng mga magulang ko
na lahat ng tao pinanganak ng may puso
na kailangan mo lang intindihin at mahalin
dahil sa dulo, pagmamahal niya’y iyong aanihin.

Pero akalain mo yun,
may mga tao palang tulad mo
na di mo alam kung wala ba siyang puso
o ipinaglihi sa demonyo.

Nakakatawa ka,
na lahat ng dugo, pawis, pati narin oras
sayo ko lahat nawaldas
buti sana kung nababalik mo ’to
pero wala, ginawa mo akong uto uto.

Isa kang patunay
na may mga taong
na kahit lahat ng pagmamahal sayo ay ibigay
nag hahanap ka parin sa iba
ng wala kang kamalay malay.

Ngayon,
tapos na ako.
Di ko kailangan ang isang tulad mo.

Sa lahat ng gago sa mundo,
ikaw pa ang pinili ko,
ikaw pa ang minahal ko,
ikaw pa ang pinagubusan ko ng oras ng ganito,
ikaw pa ang sumira sa’king utak at puso.

Pero salamat din sa’yo
dahil kung hindi sa pang-gagago mo
hindi ko mapapansin na ang pagmamahal di ko lang makukuha sa’yo
hindi ko mapapansin na marami rin palang masasama sa mundo
na ang gusto lamang ay makitang mawasak ang sarili ko.

Andami kong natutunan
di lang tungkol sa mga tulad mo
kundi pati na rin sa sarili ko:
na kaya ko palang magmahal ng ganito
na kaya ko palang lumaban ng husto
na kaya ko palang ibigay ang lahat pati narin aking puso.

Ngayong,
mag isa na ulit ako,
mas masaya na ako.

Kaya sa susunod na darating sa buhay ko,
tandaan mo
nagmahal ako ng gago
kaya ayusin mo ang buhay mo
kung ayaw **** sulatan kita ng ganito.
it’s basically means “To All The Douchbags In The World”

first spoken word piece i’ve ever attempted to write and will record soon

to all the filipinos out there, hope you enjoy it.
to everyone else, a translation will come out soon, let’s just pray my anxiety won’t get the best of me.
Meena Menon Sep 2021
Flicker Shimmer Glow

The brightest star can shine even with thick black velvet draped over it.  
Quartz, lime and salt crystals formed a glass ball.
The dark womb held me, warm and soft.  
My mom called my cries when I was born the most sorrowful sound she had ever heard.  
She said she’d never heard a baby make a sound like that.    
I’d open my eyes in low light until the world’s light healed rather than hurt.  
The summer before eighth grade, July 1992,
I watched a shooting star burn by at 100,000 miles per hour as I stood on the balcony  
while my family celebrated my birthday inside.  
It made it into the earth’s atmosphere
but it didn’t look like it was coming down;
I know it didn’t hit the ground but it burned something in the time it was here.  
The glass ball of my life cracked inside.  
Light reflected off the salt crystal cracks.  
I saw the beauty of the light within.  
Nacre from my shell kept those cracks from getting worse,
a wild pearl as defense mechanism.  
In 2001, I quit my job after they melted and poured tar all over my life.  
All summer literature class bathtubs filled with rose hip oil cleaned the tar.  
That fall logic and epistemology classes spewed black ink all over my philosophy
written over ten years then.  
Tar turned to asphalt when I met someone from my old job for a drink in November
and it paved a road for my life that went to the hospital I was in that December
where it sealed the roof on my life
when I was almost murdered there
and in February after meeting her for another drink.  
They lit a fire at the top of the glacier and pushed the burning pile of black coal off the edge,
burnt red, looking like flames falling into the valley.  
While that blazed the side of the cliff something lit an incandescent light.  
The electricity from the metal lightbulb ***** went through wires and heated the filament between until it glowed.  
I began putting more work into emotional balance from things I learned at AA meetings.  
In Spring 2003, the damage that the doctors at the hospital in 2001 had done
made it harder for light to reflect from the cracks in the glass ball.
I’d been eating healthy and trying to get regular exercises since 1994
but in Spring 2003 I began swimming for an hour every morning .  
The water washed the pollution from the burning coals off
And then I escaped in July.  
I moved to London to study English Language and Linguistics.  
I would’ve studied English Language and Literature.  
I did well until Spring 2004 when I thought I was being stalked.  
I thought I was manic.  
I thought I was being stalked.  
I went home and didn’t go back for my exams after spring holiday.  
Because I felt traumatized and couldn’t write poetry anymore,
I used black ink to write my notes for my book on trauma and the Russian Revolution.
I started teaching myself German.  
I stayed healthy.  
In 2005, my parents went to visit my mom’s family in Malaysia for two weeks.
I thought I was being stalked.  
I knew I wasn’t manic.  
I thought I was being stalked.  
I told my parents when they came home.  
They thought I was manic.  
I showed them the shoe prints in the snow of different sizes from the woods to the windows.  
They thought I was manic.  
I was outside of my comfort zone.  
I moved to California. I found light.  
I made light,
the light reflected off the salt crystals I used to heal the violence inflicted on me from then on.  
The light turned the traffic lights to not just green from red
but amber and blue.  
The light turned the car signals left and right.  
The light reflected off of salt crystals, light emitting diodes,
electrical energy turned directly to light,
electroluminescence.  
The electrical currents flowed through,
illuminating.  
Alone in the world, I moved to California in July 2005
but in August  I called the person I escaped in 2003,
the sulfur and nitrogen that I hated.  
He didn’t think I was manic but I never said anything.
I never told him why I asked him to move out to California.  
When his coal seemed like only pollution,
I asked him to leave.  
He threatened me.  
I called the authorities.  
They left me there.
He laughed.  
Then the violence came.  
****:  stabbed and punched, my ****** bruised, purple and swollen.  
The light barely reflected from the glass ball wIth cracks through all the acid rain, smoke and haze.
It would take me half an hour to get my body to do what my mind told it to after.  
My dad told me my mom had her cancer removed.
The next day, the coal said if I wanted him to leave he’d leave.  
I booked his ticket.
I drove him to the airport.  
Black clouds gushed the night before for the first time in months,
the sky clear after the rain.  
He was gone and I was free,
melted glass, heated up and poured—
looked like fire,
looked like the Snow Moon in February
with Mercury in the morning sky.  
I worked through ****.  
I worked to overcome trauma.  
Electricity between touch and love caused acid rain, smoke, haze, and mercury
to light the discharge lamps, streetlights and parking lot lights.
Then I changed the direction of the light waves.  
Like lead glass breaks up the light,
lead from the coal, cleaned and replaced by potassium,
glass cut clearly, refracting the light,
electrolytes,
electrical signals lit through my body,
thick black velvet drapes gone.  





















Lava

I think that someone wrote into some palm leaf a manuscript, a gift, a contract.  
After my parents wedding, while they were still in India,
they found out that my dad’s father and my mom’s grandfather worked for kings administering temples and collecting money for their king from the farmers that worked the rice paddies each king owned.  They both left their homes before they left for college.  
My dad, a son of a brahmin’s son,
grew up in his grandmother’s house.  
His mother was not a Brahmin.  
My mother grew up in Malaysia where she saw the children from the rubber plantation
when she walked to school.  
She doesn’t say what caste she is.  
He went to his father’s house, then college.  
He worked, then went to England, then Canada.  
She went to India then Canada.  
They moved to the United States around Christmas 1978
with my brother while she was pregnant with me.  
My father signed a contract with my mother.  
My parents took ashes and formed rock,
the residue left in brass pots in India,
the rocks, so hot, they turned back to lava miles away before turning back to ash again,
then back to rock,
the lava from a super volcano,
the ash purple and red.  


















Circles on a Moss Covered Volcano

The eruption beatifies the magma.  
It becomes obsidian,
only breaks with a fracture,
smooth circles where it breaks.  

My mom was born on the grass
on a lawn
in a moss covered canyon at the top of a volcanic island.  
My grandfather lived in Malaysia before the Japanese occupied.  
When the volcano erupted,
the lava dried at the ocean into black sand.  
The British allied with the Communist Party of Malaysia—
after they organized.  
After the Americans defeated the Japanese at Pearl Harbor,
the British took over Malaysia again.  
They kept different groups apart claiming they were helping them.  
The black sand had smooth pebbles and sharp rocks.  
Ethnic Malay farmers lived in Kampongs, villages.  
Indians lived on plantations.  
The Chinese lived in towns and urban areas.  
Ethnic Malays wanted independence.
In 1946, after strikes, demonstrations, and boycotts
the British agreed to work with them.  
The predominantly Chinese Communist Party of Malaysia went underground,
guerrilla warfare against the British,
claiming their fight was for independence.  
For the British, that emergency required vast powers
of arrest, detention without trial and deportation to defeat terrorism.  
The Emergency became less unpopular as the terrorism became worse.  
The British were the iron that brought oxygen through my mom’s body.  
She loved riding on her father’s motorcycle with him
by the plantations,
through the Kampongs
and to the city, half an hour away.  
The British left Malaysia independent in 1957
with Malaysian nationalists holding most state and federal government offices.  
As the black sand stretches towards the ocean,
it becomes big stones of dried lava, flat and smooth.  

My mom thought her father and her uncle were subservient to the British.  
She thought all things, all people were equal.  
When her father died when she was 16, 1965,
they moved to India,
my mother,
a foreigner in India, though she’s Indian.  
She loved rock and roll and mini skirts
and didn’t speak the local language.  
On the dried black lava,
it can be hard to know the molten lava flickers underneath there.  
Before the Korean War,
though Britain and the United States wanted
an aggressive resolution
condemning North Korea,
they were happy
that India supported a draft resolution
condemning North Korea
for breach of the peace.  
During the Korean War,
India, supported by Third World and other Commonwealth nations,
opposed United States’ proposals.
They were able to change the U.S. resolution
to include the proposals they wanted
and helped end the war.  
China wanted the respect of Third World nations
and saw the United States as imperialist.  
China thought India was a threat to the Third World
by taking aid from the United States and the Soviets.  
Pakistan could help with that and a seat at the United Nations.  
China wanted Taiwan’s seat at the UN.
My mother went to live with her uncle,
a communist negotiator for a corporation,
in India.  
A poet,
he threw parties and invited other artists, musicians and writers.  
I have the same brown hyperpigmentation at my joints that he had.  
During the day, only the steam from the hot lava can be seen.  
In 1965, Pakistani forces went into Jammu and Kashmir with China’s support.  
China threatened India after India sent its troops in.  
Then they threatened again before sending their troops to the Indian border.  
The United States stopped aid to Pakistan and India.
Pakistan agreed to the UN ceasefire agreement.  
Pakistan helped China get a seat at the UN
and tried to keep the west from escalating in Vietnam.  
The smoldering sound of the lava sizzles underneath the dried lava.  
When West Pakistan refused to allow East Pakistan independence,
violence between Bengalis and Biharis developed into upheaval.  
Bengalis moved to India
and India went into East Pakistan.  
Pakistan surrendered in December 1971.  
East Pakistan became independent Bangladesh

The warm light of the melted lava radiates underneath but burns.  
In 1974, India tested the Smiling Buddha,
a nuclear bomb.  
After Indira Gandhi’s conviction for election fraud in 1973,
Marxist Professor Narayan called for total revolution
and students protested all over India.  
With food shortages, inflation and regional disputes
like Sikh separatists training in Pakistan for an independent Punjab,
peasants and laborers joined the protests.  
Railway strikes stopped the economy.  
In 1975, Indira Gandhi, the Iron Lady,
declared an Emergency,
imprisoning political opponents, restricting freedoms and restricting the press,
claiming threats to national security
because the war with Pakistan had just ended.  
The federal government took over Kerala’s communist dominated government and others.  

My mom could’ve been a dandelion, but she’s more like thistle.  
She has the center that dries and flutters in the wind,
beautiful and silky,
spiny and prickly,
but still fluffy, downy,
A daisy.
They say thistle saved Scotland from the Norse.  
Magma from the volcano explodes
and the streams of magma fly into the air.  
In the late 60s,
the civil rights movement rose
against the state in Northern Ireland
for depriving Catholics
of influence and opportunity.
The Northern Irish police,
Protestant and unionist, anti-catholic,
responded violently to the protests and it got worse.  
In 1969, the British placed Arthur Young,
who had worked at the Federation of Malaya
at the time of their Emergency
at the head of the British military in Northern Ireland.
The British military took control over the police,
a counter insurgency rather than a police force,
crowd control, house searches, interrogation, and street patrols,
use of force against suspects and uncooperative citizens.  
Political crimes were tolerated by Protestants but not Catholics.  
The lava burns the rock off the edge of the volcano.  

On January 30, 1972, ****** Sunday,  
British Army policing killed 13 unarmed protesters
fighting for their rights over their neighborhood,
protesting the internment of suspected nationalists.
That led to protests across Ireland.  
When banana leaves are warmed,
oil from the banana leaves flavors the food.  
My dad flew from Canada to India in February 1972.  
On February 4, my dad met my mom.  
On February 11, 1972,
my dad married my mom.  
They went to Canada,
a quartz singing bowl and a wooden mallet wrapped in suede.  
The rock goes down with the lava, breaking through the rocks as it goes down.  
In March 1972, the British government took over
because they considered the Royal Ulster Police and the Ulster Special Constabulary
to be causing most of the violence.  
The lava blocks and reroutes streams,
melts snow and ice,
flooding.  
Days later, there’s still smoke, red.  
My mom could wear the clothes she liked
without being judged
with my dad in Canada.  
She didn’t like asking my dad for money.
My dad, the copper helping my mother use that iron,
wanted her to go to college and finish her bachelors degree.
She got a job.  
In 1976, the police took over again in Northern Ireland
but they were a paramilitary force—
armored SUVs, bullet proof jackets, combat ready
with the largest computerized surveillance system in the UK,
high powered weapons,
trained in counter insurgency.  
Many people were murdered by the police
and few were held accountable.  
Most of the murdered people were not involved in violence or crime.  
People were arrested under special emergency powers
for interrogation and intelligence gathering.  
People tried were tried in non-jury courts.  
My mom learned Malayalam in India
but didn’t speak well until living with my dad.  
She also learned to cook after getting married.  
Her mother sent her recipes; my dad cooked for her—
turmeric, cumin, coriander, cayenne and green chiles.  
Having lived in different countries,
my mom’s food was exposed to many cultures,
Chinese and French.
Ground rock, minerals and glass
covered the ground
from the ash plume.  
She liked working.  

A volcano erupted for 192 years,
an ice age,
disordered ices, deformed under pressure
and ordered ice crystals, brittle in the ice core records.  
My mother liked working.  
Though Khomeini was in exile by the 1970s in Iran,
more people, working and poor,
turned to him and the ****-i-Ulama for help.
My mom didn’t want kids though my dad did.
She agreed and in 1978 my brother was born.
Iran modernized but agriculture and industry changed so quickly.  
In January 1978, students protested—
censorship, surveillance, harassment, illegal detention and torture.  
Young people and the unemployed joined.  
My parents moved to the United States in December 1978.  
The regime used a lot of violence against the protesters,
and in September 1978 declared martial law in Iran.  
Troops were shooting demonstrators.
In January 1979, the Shah and his family fled.  
On February 11, 1979, my parents’ anniversary,
the Iranian army declared neutrality.  
I was born in July 1979.
The chromium in emeralds and rubies colors them.
My brother was born in May and I was born in July.

Obsidian—
iron, copper and chromium—
isn’t a gas
but it isn’t a crystal;
it’s between the two,
the ordered crystal and the disordered gas.  
They made swords out of obsidian.  





Warm Light Shatters

The eruption beatifies the magma.  
It becomes obsidian,
only breaks with a fracture,
smooth circles where it breaks.  

My dad was born on a large flat rock on the edge of the top
of a hill,
Molasses, sweet and dark, the potent flavor dominates,
His father, the son of a Brahmin,
His mother from a lower caste.
His father’s family wouldn’t touch him,
He grew up in his mother’s mother’s house on a farm.  
I have the same brown hyperpigmentation spot on my right hand that he has.

In 1901, D’Arcy bought a 60 year concession for oil exploration In Iran.
The Iranian government extended it for another 32 years in 1933.
At that time oil was Iran’s “main source of income.”
In 1917’s Balfour Declaration, the British government proclaimed that they favored a national home for the Jews in Palestine and their “best endeavors to facilitate the achievement” of that.

The British police were in charge of policing in the mandate of Palestine.  A lot of the policemen they hired were people who had served in the British army before, during the Irish War for Independence.  
The army tried to stop how violent the police were, police used torture and brutality, some that had been used during the Irish War for Independence, like having prisoners tied to armored cars and locomotives and razing the homes of people in prison or people they thought were related to people thought to be rebels.
The police hired Arab police and Jewish police for lower level policing,
Making local people part of the management.
“Let Arab police beat up Arabs and Jewish police beat up Jews.”

The lava blocks and reroutes streams, melts snow and ice, flooding.
In 1922, there were 83,000 Jews, 71,000 Christians, and 589,000 Muslims.
The League If Nations endorsed the British Mandate.
During an emergency, in the 1930s, British regulations allowed collective punishment, punishing villages for incidents.
Local officers in riots often deserted and also shared intelligence with their own people.
The police often stole, destroyed property, tortured and killed people.  
Arab revolts sapped the police power over Palestinians by 1939.

My father’s mother was from a matrilineal family.
My dad remembers tall men lining up on pay day to respectfully wait for her, 5 feet tall.  
She married again after her husband died.
A manager from a tile factory,
He spoke English so he supervised finances and correspondence.
My dad, a sunflower, loved her: she scared all the workers but exuded warmth to the people she loved.

Obsidian shields people from negative energy.
David Cargill founded the Burmah Oil Co. in 1886.
If there were problems with oil exploration in Burma and Indian government licenses, Persian oil would protect the company.  
In July 1906, many European oil companies, BP, Royal Dutch Shell and others, allied to protect against the American oil company, Standard Oil.
D’Arcy needed money because “Persian oil took three times as long to come on stream as anticipated.”
Burmah Oil Co. began the Anglo-Persian Oil Co. as a subsidiary.
Ninety-seven percent of British Petroleum was owned by Burmah Oil Co.
By 1914, the British government owned 51% of the Anglo-Persian Oil Co.  
Anglo-Persian acquired independence from Burmah Oil and Royal Dutch Shell with two million pounds from the British government.

The lava burns the rock off the edge of the volcano.
In 1942, after the Japanese took Burma,
the British destroyed their refineries before leaving.
The United Nations had to find other sources of oil.
In 1943, Japan built the Burma-Thailand Railroad with forced labor from the Malay peninsula who were mostly from the rubber plantations.

The rock goes down with the lava, breaking through the rocks as it goes down.
In 1945. Japan destroyed their refineries before leaving Burma.
Cargill, Watson and Whigham were on the Burmah Oil Co. Board and then the Anglo Iranian Oil Co. Board.  

In 1936 Palestine, boycotts, work stoppages, and violence against British police officials and soldiers compelled the government to appoint an investigatory commission.  
Leaders of Egypt, Trans Jordan, Syria and Iraq helped end the work stoppages.
The British government had the Peel Commission read letters, memoranda, and petitions and speak with British officials, Jews and Arabs.  
The Commission didn’t believe that Arabs and Jews could live together in a single Jewish state.
Because of administrative and financial difficulties the Colonial Secretary stated that to split Palestine into Arab and Jewish states was impracticable.  
The Commission recommended transitioning 250,000 Arabs and 1500 Jews with British control over their oil pipeline, their naval base and Jerusalem.  
The League of Nations approved.
“It will not remove the grievance nor prevent the recurrence,” Lord Peel stated after.
The Arab uprising was much more militant after Peel.  Thousands of Arabs were wounded, ten thousand were detained.  
In Sykes-Picot and the Husain McMahon agreements, the British promised the Arabs an independent state but they did not keep that promise.  
Representatives from the Arab states rejected the Peel recommendations.
United Nations General Assembly Resolution181 partitioned Palestine into Arab and Jewish states with an international regime for the city of Jerusalem backed by the United States and the Soviet Union.  

The Israeli Yishuv had strong military and intelligence organization —-  
the British recognized that their interest was with the Arabs and abstained from the vote.  
In 1948, Israel declared the establishment of its state.  
Ground rock, minerals, and gas covered the ground from the ash plume.
The Palestinian police force was disbanded and the British gave officers the option of serving in Malaya.

Though Truman, Eisenhower and Kennedy supported snd tried to get Israel to offer the Arabs concessions, it wasn’t a major priority and didn’t always approve of Israel’s plans.
Arabs that had supported the British to end Turkish rule stopped supporting the West.  
Many Palestinians joined left wing groups and violent third world movements.  
Seventy-eight percent of the territory of former Palestine was under Israel’s control.  

My dad left for college in 1957 and lived in an apartment above the United States Information services office.
Because he graduated at the top of his class, he was given a job with the public works department of the government on the electricity board.  
“Once in, you’ll never leave.”
When he wanted a job where he could do real work, his father was upset.
He broke the chains with bells for vespers.
He got a job in Calcutta at Kusum Products and left the government, though it was prestigious to work there.
In the chemical engineering division, one of the projects he worked on was to design a *** distillery, bells controlled by hammers, hammers controlled by a keyboard.
His boss worked in the United Kingdom for. 20 years before the company he worked at, part of Power Gas Corporation, asked him to open a branch in Calcutta.
He opened the branch and convinced an Industrialist to open a company doing the same work with him.  The branch he opened closed after that.  
My dad applied for labor certification to work abroad and was selected.  
His boss wrote a reference letter for my him to the company he left in the UK.  My dad sent it telling the company when he was leaving for the UK.  
The day he left for London, he got the letter they sent in the mail telling him to take the train to Sheffield the next day and someone from the firm would meet him at the station.  
His dad didn’t know he left, he didn’t tell him.
He broke the chains with chimes for schisms.


Anglo-Persian Oil became Anglo-Iranian Oil in 1935.
The British government used oil and Anglo-Persian oil to fight communism, have a stronger relationship with the United States and make the United Kingdom more powerful.  
The National Secularists, the Tudeh, and the Communists wanted to nationalize Iran’s oil and mobilized the Iranian people.
The British feared nationalization in Iran would incite political parties like the Secular Nationalists all over the world.  
In 1947, the Iranian government passed the Single Article Law that “[increased] investment In welfare benefits, health, housing, education, and implementation of Iranianization through substitution of foreigners” at Anglo-Iranian Oil Co.
“Anglo-Iranian Oil Company made more profit in 1950 than it paid to the Iranian government in royalties over the previous half century.”
The Anglo-Iranian Oil Company tried to negotiate a new concession and claimed they’d hire more Iranian people into jobs held by British and people from other nationalities at the company.
Their hospitals had segregated wards.  
On May 1, 1951, the Iranian government passed a bill that nationalized Anglo- Iranian Oil Co.’s holdings.  
During the day, only the steam from the hot lava can be seen.
In August 1953, the Iranian people elected Mossadegh from the Secular Nationalist Party as prime minister.
The British government with the CIA overthrew Mossadegh using the Iranian military after inducing protests and violent demonstrations.  
Anglo-Iranian Oil changed its name to British Petroleum in 1954.
Iranians believe that America destroyed Iran’s “last chance for democracy” and blamed America for Iran’s autocracy, its human rights abuses, and secret police.

The smoldering sound of the lava sizzles underneath the dried lava.  
In 1946, Executive Yuan wanted control over 4 groups of Islands in the South China Sea to have a stronger presence there:  the Paracels, the Spratlys, Macclesfield Bank, and the Pratas.
The French forces in the South China Sea would have been stronger than the Chinese Navy then.
French Naval forces were in the Gulf of Tonkin, U.S. forces were in the Taiwan Strait, the British were in Hong Kong, and the Portuguese were in Macao.
In the 1950s, British snd U.S. oil companies thought there might be oil in the Spratlys.  
By 1957, French presence in the South China Sea was hardly there.  

When the volcano erupted, the lava dried at the ocean into black sand.
By 1954, the Tudeh Party’s communist movement and  intelligence organization had been destroyed.  
Because of the Shah and his government’s westernization policies and disrespectful treatment of the Ulama, Iranians began identifying with the Ulama and Khomeini rather than their government.  
Those people joined with secular movements to overthrow the Shah.  

In 1966, Ne Win seized power from U Nu in Burma.
“Soldiers ruled Burma as soldiers.”
Ne Win thought that western political
Institutions “encouraged divisions.”
Minority groups found foreign support for their separatist goals.
The Karens and the Mons supported U Nu in Bangkok.  


Rare copper, a heavy metal, no alloys,
a rock in groundwater,
conducts electricity and heat.
In 1965, my Dad’s cousin met him at Heathrow, gave him a coat and £10 and brought him to a bed and breakfast across from Charing Cross Station where he’d get the train to Sheffield the next morning.
He took the train and someone met him at the train station.  
At the interview they asked him to design a grandry girder, the main weight bearing steel girder as a test.
Iron in the inner and outer core of the earth,
He’d designed many of those.  
He was hired and lived at the YMCA for 2 1/2 years.  
He took his mother’s family name, Menon, instead of his father’s, Varma.
In 1967, he left for Canada and interviewed at Bechtel before getting hired at Seagrams.  
Iron enables blood to carry oxygen.
His boss recommended him for Dale Carnegie’s leadership training classes and my dad joined the National Instrument Society and became President.
He designed a still In Jamaica,
Ordered all the parts, nuts and bolts,
Had all the parts shipped to Jamaica and made sure they got there.
His boss supervised the construction, installation and commission in Jamaica.
Quartz, heat and fade resistant, though he was an engineer and did the work of an engineer, my dad only had the title, technician so my dad’s boss thought he wasn’t getting paid enough but couldn’t get his boss to offer more than an extra $100/week or the title of engineer; he told my dad he thought he should leave.
In 1969, he got a job at Celanese, which made rayon.
He quit Celanese to work at McGill University and they allowed him to take classes to earn his MBA while working.  

The United States and Israel’s alliance was strong by 1967.
United Nations Security Council Resolution 242 at the end of the Third Arab Israeli War didn’t mention the Palestinians but mentioned the refugee problem.
After 1967, the Palestinians weren’t often mentioned and when mentioned only as terrorists.  
Palestinians’ faith in the “American sponsored peace process” diminished, they felt the world community ignored and neglected them also.
Groups like MAN that stopped expecting anything from Arab regimes began hijacking airplanes.
By 1972, the Palestine Liberation Organization had enough international support to get by the United States’ veto in the United Nations Security Council and Arab League recognition as representative of the Palestinian people.
The Palestinians knew the United States stated its support, as the British had, but they weren’t able to accomplish anything.  
The force Israel exerted in Johnson’s United States policy delivered no equilibrium for the Palestinians.  

In 1969, all political parties submitted to the BSPP, Burma Socialist Programme Party.
Ne Win nationalized banks and oil and deprived minorities of opportunities.
Ne Win became U Nu Win, civilian leader of Burma in 1972 and stopped the active role that U Nu defined for Burma internationally
He put military people in power even when they didn’t have experience which triggered “maldistribution of goods and chronic shortages.”  
Resources were located in areas where separatist minorities had control.

The British presence in the South China Sea ended in 1968.  
The United States left Vietnam in 1974 and China went into the Western Paracels.
The U.S. didn’t intervene and Vietnam took the Spratlys.
China wanted to claim the continental shelf In the central part of the South China Sea and needed the Spratlys.
The United States mostly disregarded the Ulama In Iran and bewildered the Iranian people by not supporting their revolution.

Obsidian—
iron, copper and chromium—
isn’t a gas
but it isn’t a crystal;
it’s between the two,
the ordered crystal and the disordered gas.  
They made swords out of obsidian.


Edelweiss

I laid out in my backyard in my bikini.  
I love the feeling of my body in the sun.  
I’d be dark from the end of spring until winter.
The snow froze my bare feet through winter ,
my skin pale.
American towns in 1984,
Free, below glaciers the sunlight melted the snow,
a sea of green and the edelweiss on the edge of the  limestone,
frosted but still strong.    
When the spring warmed the grass,
the grass warmed my feet. 
The whole field looked cold and white from the glacier but in the meadow,
the bright yellow centers of those flowers float free in the center of the white petals.
The bright yellow center of those edelweiss scared the people my parents ran to America from India to get away from.  
On a sidewalk in Queens, New York in 1991, the men stared and yelled comments at me in short shorts and a fitted top in the summer.  
I grabbed my dad’s arm.

























The Bread and Coconut Butter of Aparigraha

Twelve year old flowerhead,
Marigold, yarrow and nettle,
I’d be all emotion
If not for all my work
From the time I was a teenager.
I got depressed a lot.
I related to people I read about
In my weather balloon,
Grasping, ignorant, and desperate,
But couldn’t relate to other twelve year olds.
After school I read Dali’s autobiography,
Young ****** Autosodomized by Her Own Chastity.
Fresh, green nettle with fresh and dried yarrow for purity.
Dead souls enticed to the altar by orange marigolds,
passion and creativity,
Coax sleep and rouse dreams.
Satellites measure indirectly with wave lengths of light.
My weather balloon measures the lower and middle levels of the atmosphere directly,
Fifty thousand feet high,
Metal rod thermometer,
Slide humidity sensor,
Canister for air pressure.

I enjoy rye bread and cold coconut butter in my weather balloon,
But I want Dali, and all the artists and writers.
Rye grows at high altitudes
But papyrus grows in soil and shallow water,
Strips of papyrus pith shucked from their stems.
When an anchor’s weighed, a ship sails,
But when grounded we sail.
Marigolds, yarrow and nettle,
Flowerhead,
I use the marigold for sleep,
The yarrow for endurance and intensity,
toiling for love and truth,
And the nettle for healing.
Strong rye bread needs equally strong flavors.
By the beginning of high school,
I read a lot of Beat literature
And found Buddhism.
I loved what I read
But I didn’t like some things.
I liked attachment.  
I got to the ground.
Mushrooms grow in dry soil.
Attachment to beauty is Buddha activity.
Not being attached to things I don’t find beautiful is Buddha activity.  
I fried mushrooms in a single layer in oil, fleshy.
I roasted mushrooms at high temperatures in the oven, crisp.
I simmered mushrooms in stock with kombu.
Rye bread with cold coconut butter and cremini mushrooms,
raw, soft and firm.  
Life continues, life changes,
Attachments, losses, mourning and suffering,
But change lures growth.
I find stream beds and wet soil.
I lay the strips of papyrus next to each other.
I cross papyrus strips over the first,
Then wet the crossed papyrus strips,
Press and cement them into a sheet.
I hammer it and dry it in the sun,
With no thought of achievement or self,
Flowerhead,
Hands filled with my past,
Head filled with the future,
Dali, artists poets,
Wishes and desires aligned with nature,
Abundance,
Cocoa, caraway, and molasses.

If I ever really like someone,
I’ll be wearing the dress he chooses,
Fresh green nettle and yarrow, the seeds take two years to grow strong,
Lasting love.
Marigolds steer dead souls from the altar to the afterlife,
Antiseptic, healing wounds,
Soothing sore throats and headaches.
Imperturbable, stable flowerhead,
I empty my mind.
When desires are aligned with nature, desire flows.
Papyrus makes paper and cloth.
Papyrus makes sails.
Charcoal from the ash of pulverized papyrus heals wounds.
Without attachment to the fruit of action
There is continuation of life,
Rye bread and melted coconut butter,
The coconut tree in the coconut butter,
The seed comes from the ground out of nothing,
Naturalness.
It has form.
As the seed grows the seed expresses the tree,
The seed expresses the coconut,
The seed expresses the coconut butter.
Rye bread, large open hollows, chambers,
Immersed in melted coconut butter,
Desire for expansion and creation,
No grasping, not desperate.
When the mind is compassion, the mind is boundless.
Every moment,
only that,
Every moment,
a scythe to the papyrus in the stream bed of the past.  

































Sound on Powdery Blue

Potter’s clay, nymph, plum unplumbed, 1993.
Dahlia, ice, powder, musk and rose,
my source of life emerged in darkness, blackness.
Seashell fragments in the sand,
The glass ball of my life cracked inside,
Light reflected off the salt crystal cracks,
Nacre kept those cracks from getting worse.
Young ****** Autosodomized By Her Own Chastity,
Nymph, I didn’t want to give my body,
Torn, *****, ballgown,
To people who wouldn’t understand me,
Piquant.

Outside on the salt flats,
Aphrodite, goddess of beauty, pleasure and fertility and
Asexual Artemis, goddess of animals, and the hunt,
Mistress of nymphs,
Punish with ruthless savagery.

In my bedroom, blue caribou moss covered rocks, pine, and yew trees,
The heartwood writhes as hurricane gales, twisters and whirlwinds
Contort their bark,
Roots strong in the soil.
Orris root dried in the sun, bulbs like wood.
Dahlia runs to baritone soundbath radio waves.
Light has frequencies,
Violet between blue and invisible ultraviolet,
Flame, slate and flint.
Every night is cold.

Torii gates, pain secured as sacred.
An assignation, frost hardy dahlia and a plangent resonant echo.
High frequency sound waves convert to electrical signals,
Breathe from someone I want,
Silt.
Beam, radiate, ensorcel.
I break the bark,
Sap flows and dries,
Resin seals over the tear.
I distill pine,
Resin and oil for turpentine, a solvent.
Quiver, bemired,
I lead sound into my darkness,
Orris butter resin, sweet and warm,
Hot jam drops on snow drops,
Orange ash on smoke,
Balm on lava,
The problem with cotton candy.

Electrical signals give off radiation or light waves,
The narrow frequency range where
The crest of a radio wave and the crest of a light wave overlap,
Infrared.
Glaciers flow, sunlight melts the upper layers of the snow when strong,
A wet snow avalanche,
A torrent, healing.
Brown sugar and whiskey,
Undulant, lavender.
Pine pitch, crystalline, sticky, rich and golden,
And dried pine rosin polishes glass smooth
Like the smell of powdery orris after years.
Softness, flush, worthy/not worthy,
Rich rays thunder,
Intensify my pulse,
Frenzied red,
Violet between blue and invisible ultraviolet.
Babylon—flutter, glow.
Unquenchable cathartic orris.  

















Pink Graphite

Camellias, winter shrubs,
Their shallow roots grow beneath the spongy caribou moss,
Robins egg blue.
After writing a play with my gifted students program in 1991,
I stopped spending all my free time writing short stories,
But the caribou moss was still soft.

In the cold Arctic of that town,
The evergreen protected the camellias from the afternoon sun and storms.
They branded hardy camellias with a brass molded embossing iron;
I had paper and graphite for my pencils.

After my ninth grade honors English teacher asked us to write poems in 1994,
It began raining.
We lived on an overhang.
A vertical rise to the top of the rock.
The rainstorm caused a metamorphic change in the snowpack,
A wet snow avalanche drifted slowly down the moss covered rock,
The snow already destabilized by exposure to the sunlight.

The avalanche formed lakes,
rock basins washed away with rainwater and melted snow,
Streams dammed by the rocks.  
My pencils washed away in the avalanche,
My clothes heavy and cold.
I wove one side of each warp fiber through the eye of the needle and one side through each slot,
Salves, ointments, serums and tinctures.
I was mining for graphite.
They were mining me,
The only winch, the sound through the water.

A steep staircase to the red Torii gates,
I broke the chains with bells for vespers
And chimes for schisms,
And wove the weft across at right angles to the warp.  

On a rocky ledge at the end of winter,
The pink moon, bitters and body butter,
They tried to get  me to want absinthe,
Wormwood for bitterness and regret.
Heat and pressure formed carbon for flakes of graphite.
Heat and pressure,
I made bitters,
Brandy, grapefruit, chocolate, mandarin rind, tamarind and sugar.
I grounded my feet in the pink moss,
paper dried in one hand,
and graphite for my pencils in the other.  



































Flakes

I don’t let people that put me down be part of my life.  
Gardens and trees,
My shadow sunk in the grass in my yard
As I ate bread, turmeric and lemon.
Carbon crystallizes into graphite flakes.
I write to see well,
Graphite on paper.  
A shadow on rock tiles with a shield, a diamond and a bell
Had me ***** to humiliate me.
Though I don’t let people that put me down near me,
A lot of people putting me down seemed like they were following me,
A platform to jump from
While she had her temple.  

There was a pink door to the platform.
I ate bread with caramelized crusts and
Drank turmeric lemonade
Before I opened that door,
Jumped and
Descended into blankets and feathers.
I found matches and rosin
For turpentine to clean,
Dried plums and licorice.  

In the temple,
In diamonds, leather, wool and silk,
She had her shield and bells,
Drugs and technology,
Thermovision 210 and Minox,
And an offering box where people believed
That if their coins went in
Their wishes would come true.

Hollyhock and smudging charcoal for work,  
Belled,
I ground grain in the mill for the bread I baked for breakfast.
The bells are now communal bells
With a watchtower and a prison,
Her shield, a blowtorch and flux,
Her ex rays, my makeshift records
Because Stalin didn’t like people dancing,
He liked them divebombing.
Impurities in the carbon prevent diamonds from forming,
Measured,
The most hard, the most expensive,
But graphite’s soft delocalized electrons move.  






































OCEAN BED

The loneliness of going to sleep by myself.  
I want a bed that’s high off the ground,
a mattress, an ocean.
I want a crush and that  person in my bed.  
Only that,
a crush in my bed,
an ocean in my bed.  
Just love.  
But I sleep with my thumbs sealed.  
I sleep with my hands, palms up.  
I sleep with my hands at my heart.  
They sear my compassion with their noise.  
They hold their iron over their fire and try to carve their noise into my love,
scored by the violence of voices, dark and lurid,  
but not burned.  
I want a man in my bed.  
When I wake up in an earthquake
I want to be held through the aftershocks.  
I like men,
the waves come in and go out
but the ocean was part of my every day.  
I don’t mind being fetishized in the ocean.  
I ran by the ocean every morning.  
I surfed in the ocean.  
I should’ve gone into the ocean that afternoon at Trestles,
holding my water jugs, kneeling at the edge.  














Morning

I want to fall asleep in the warm arms of a fireman.  
I want to wake up to the smell of coffee in my kitchen.  

Morning—the molten lava in the outer core of the earth embeds the iron from the inner core into the earth’s magnetic field.  
The magnetic field flips.  
The sun, so strong, where it gets through the trees it burns everything but the pine.  
The winds change direction.  
Storms cast lightening and rain.  
Iron conducts solar flares and the heavy wind.  
In that pine forest, I shudder every time I see a speck of light for fear of neon and fluorescents.  The eucalyptus cleanses congestion.  
And Kerouac’s stream ululates, crystal bowl sound baths.  
I follow the sound to the water.  
The stream ends at a bluff with a thin rocky beach below.  
The green water turns black not far from the shore.  
Before diving into the ocean, I eat globe mallow from the trees, stems and leaves, the viscous flesh, red, soft and nutty.  
I distill the pine from one of the tree’s bark and smudge the charcoal over my skin.  

Death, the palo santo’s lit, cleansing negative energy.  
It’s been so long since I’ve smelled a man, woodsmoke, citrus and tobacco.  
Jasmine, plum, lime and tuberose oil on the base of my neck comforts.  
Parabolic chambers heal, sound waves through water travel four times faster.  
The sound of the open sea recalibrates.  
I dissolve into the midnight blue of the ocean.  

I want to fall asleep in the warm arms of a fireman.  
I want to wake up to the smell of coffee in my kitchen.  
I want hot water with coconut oil when I get up.  
We’d lay out on the lawn, surrounded by high trees that block the wind.  
Embers flying through the air won’t land in my yard, on my grass, or near my trees.  





Blue Paper

Haze scatters blue light on a planet.  
Frought women, livid, made into peonies by Aphrodites that caught their men flirting and blamed the women, flushed red.
and blamed the women, flushed red.
Frought women, livid, chrysanthemums, dimmed until the end of the season, exchanged and retained like property.  
Blue women enter along the sides of her red Torii gates, belayed, branded and belled, a plangent sound.  
By candles, colored lights and dried flowers she’s sitting inside on a concrete floor, punctures and ruin burnished with paper, making burnt lime from lime mortar.  
Glass ***** on the ceiling, she moves the beads of a Palestinian glass bead bracelet she holds in her hands.  
She bends light to make shadows against  thin wooden slats curbed along the wall, and straight across the ceiling.
A metier, she makes tinctures, juniper berries and cotton *****.
Loamy soil in the center of the room,
A hawthorn tree stands alone,
A gateway for fairies.
large stones at the base protecting,
It’s branches a barrier.  
It’s leaves and shoots make bread and cheese.
It’s berries, red skin and yellow flesh, make jam.
Green bamboo stakes for the peonies when they whither from the weight of their petals.
And lime in the soil.  
She adds wood chips to the burnt lime in the kiln,
Unrolled paper, spools, and wire hanging.
Wood prayer beads connect her to the earth,
The tassels on the end of the beads connect her to spirit, to higher truth.
Minerals, marine mud and warm basins of seawater on a flower covered desk.  
She adds slaked lime to the burnt lime and wood chips.  
The lime converts to paper,
Trauma victims speak,
Light through butterfly wings.  
She’s plumeria with curved petals, thick, holding water
This is what I have written of my book.  I’ll be changing where the poems with the historical research go.  There are four more of those and nine of the other poems.
Wretched Aug 2015
Ito ako,
Duwag akong tao.
Madali akong matakot sa mga bagay na hindi nakikita pero nararamdaman mo
Tulad ng mga multo.
Mga kaluluwa ng mga sumakabilang buhay
Na nagpapagala gala sa aking isipan.
O kahit ang biglaang pagpatay ng mga ilaw.
Pakiramdam ko ang mundo ay hindi ko na kontrolado.
Na sa onting patikim lang ng dilim,
Katinuan ko ay guguho.
Tapos ayun na.
Dahan dahan ng bubuhos ang iyak galing saking mga mata.
Aaminin kong para akong tanga,
Kasi nga naman,
Simpleng mga bagay pero grabe kung gaano ko kayang aksayahin ang mga luha ko sa kanila.
Parang bata. Duwag. Mahina.
Marami pa akong mga kinakatakutan
Pero lahat ay napawi ng sa buhay ko'y dumating ka.
Binuhay mo ko, oo ikaw.
Ikaw ang nagsilbing unang hinga sa pag ahon ko sa malalim na dagat.
Ikaw ang matagal ko ng hinihiling sa bawat bituin
Ang panalanging ngayon ay akin ng katapat
Na akala **** ating pagtatagpo, tadhana ang nagsulat
Nagliwanag ang gabi nang makilala kita.
Ikaw ang naging rason ng aking pag-gising sa umaga.
Nagmistulan kang isang sundalo.
Nakabantay sa aking mahimbing na pagtulog.
Ipinagtatanggol ako sa mundong puno ng kamalasan at disgrasya.
Ang tapang **** tao.
Ikaw, hindi ako.
Kinayang **** harapin ang mga bagay na kinaduduwagan ko.
Natakot akong magmahal muli pero isipan koy iyong nabago.
Kaso sa sobrang kasiyahan na idinulot ng pagdating mo,
Bumalik ang mga takot ko.
Naduwag ako.
Marami akong mga kinakatakutan
At ika'y napasama na dito.
Natakot ako na baka pag gising mo isang araw
Magbago ang isip mo at
Malimutan **** mahal mo ko.
Kayanin **** talikuran ako.
Dumating ang isang masalimuot na gabi
Bangungot ang kinlabasan ng buong pangayayari
Nagdilim ang aking paligid.
Umalis ka na lang ng walang pasabi
At tumalikod ka nga.
Ikaw ang unang bumitaw.
Ikaw, hindi ako.
Ni walang pagpapaalam na nangyari
Ni hindi mo na ko sinubukang sulyapin muli.
Sabi na nga ba. Ang tanga ko talaga.
Natagpuan ko na naman ang aking sariling Nagaaksaya
Ng balde baldeng luha.
Parang bata. Takot duwag mahina.
Inakala mo siguro lagi na lang akong magiging
Isang prinsesa na kinakailangan lagi ng iyong pagsasagip
Pero mahal, Kailangan **** maintindihan.
Ngayon ko lang aaminin sa sarili ko na
unang beses kong naging matapang
Ng  aking Isinugal sayo itong marupok na puso.
Gumuho ang aking mundo.
Pinatay mo ko.
Ilang araw kong pinaglamayan ang ang aking sarili
Umaasang babalik ka at muli akong lulunurin sa init ng iyong mga bisig
Pinatay mo ko pero sa utak ko bakit parang napatay din kita?
Nagsitaasan ang aking mga balahibo
Kasi nga natatakot ako sa bagay na hindi ko nakikita pero nararamdaman mo.
At nararamdaman pa rin kita.
Pinipilit kitang buhayin
Ikaw na bangkay na sa akin.
Pinipilit kong abangan ang pagmulat ng iyong mga mata.
Ako'y patuloy na naghihintay.
Na malay mo sa araw na ito.
Sa iyong pag-gising, maisipan **** mahalin muli ako.
Mga alaala mo'y nagpapagala-gala sa aking kwarto na
Pumalit sa mga multong inaabangan ang pagtulog ko.
Pinatay mo ko pero
bumangon at babangon ako.
Naisip ko,
Ikaw ang naging duwag sa ating dalawa.
Ikaw, hindi ako.
Umalis ka dahil yun na lamang ang naisip **** solusyon.
Dahil iyon ang pinakamadaling paraan
Para problema mo'y iyong matakasan.
Ikaw ang natakot.
Ikaw ang mahina.
Ikaw,Hindi ako.
Dahil hindi mo kinayang magtagal sa ating laban.
hindi ako prinsesang laging kailangan ng pagsagip.
Mahal, Ako ang giyerang iyong tinalikuran.
At Kung nais **** bumalik
Ipangako **** ako'y hindi mo na muling lilisanin.
Bumalik ka ng walang bakas ng kaduwagan,
na ika'y sasabak muli sa ating digmaan.
Kahit ba iyong buhay ang nakasalalay.
Bumalik kang walang takot.
Hali ka, aking sundalo.
Bumalik ka kung kaya mo ng suungin ang giyerang nagngangalang ako.
This was the piece that I performed for Paint Your Poetry Slam at Satinka Naturals.
Marg Balvaloza Sep 2018
Mayro'ng patingin-tingin
Sa mahabang usapin
Sa lumipas na araw
Sya ay nagbalik tanaw

Ayan sya't walang malay
Ngiti sa labi'y taglay
Nauubos ang oras
Kala mo walang bukas

Tila ba nalilibang
Habang sya'y nag-aabang
Sa mensaheng padala
Ng kanyang kakilala

Kahit sa isang saglit
Isang iglap, kapalit
Habang sya'y nag-iisip
Nahulog na't na-idlip

Sa pagbalik ng diwa
Tama nga bang ginawa?
Tinignan kung may tugon
Dinampot, kanyang selpon

"Ako ba'y isang hibang?
Bakit parang may kulang?"
'Pag di na naka-usap
Tila ba naghahanap

Isip ay wag lunurin
Damdami'y wag pukawin
Atensyo'y wag ibaling
Sa tulad **** malambing

Pigilan **** umasa
Kung ayaw **** magdusa
Sarili ay gisingin
Puso ay wag susundin

Babala sa sarili
Ika'y wag papahuli
Kung ayaw **** magbago
Kanyang pakikitungo

Maluwag **** tanggapin
At lagi **** tiyakin
Sarili'y sasabihang:
"AKO AY KAIBIGAN LANG."


© LMLB
Poem I made almost three months ago.
CRESTINE CUERPO Aug 2017
Boom!  Pagsabog!
Na sa aking dibdib ay kumabog!
Ang isip at kaluluwa ko'y nabubulabog!
Ito nga ba'y himig ng kapayapaan o himig ng digmaan?

Isa akong musmos na batang---- naninirahan sa isang bayan,
Dito ako lumaki at nagkaroon ng pangalan,
Bayang Marawi ang lupang aking sinilangan,
Isang bayang tanyag sa kaunlaran,
Ngunit ngayo'y nagiging usap-usapan sa t.v, radyo at maging sa pahayagan.

Hindi ko malilimutan ang gabing nagdaan,
Gabi!--- ng ika-23 ng Mayo ang nagpinta sa aking pusong sugatan,
Isa ako sa mga nawalan ng magulang,
at saksi sa karahasan na walang katapusan,
Hudyat ng pagguho ng pag-asang aking pinanghahawakan.

at habang aking pinagmamasdan,
Isa-isang nabubulagta at dugu-an,
Ang aking mga kamag-anak at kaibigan,
at sila'y.....wala na----- wala ng malay at nakahandusay.

Wala akong magawa kundi ang tumakbo ng tumakbo,
kumarepas ako ng takbo.....ng isang napakabilis na takbo.... nanginginig sa takot...pagod na pagod...  humihingal....
Iyak ng iyak at nagsusumamo
at habang ako'y papalayo ng papalayo--------
Naisip ko:
      "Saan ako patutungo?"
       "Sa mga pangyayaring ito sino          
         ang namumuno?"
         Sila ba'y mga Muslim o
         Kristiyano?"
        Ngunit maging sino man sila----
        Sila'y hindi santo na may pusong
        bato,
        Dahil sila'y pumapatay ng kahit
        na sino,
        at ito'y hindi makatarungan at
        makatao.

       Ang sakit....Oo ang saklap...ang
       bayan na naghahatid ng
       kaunlaran,
       Ngayon ay nabubura at nag-iiwan
       ng isang malagim na ala-ala,
      Nagsisilbing aral sa tuwina at          
      nagpa-paalala,
      Na kinakailangan ng isang may      
      malinis na adhikain at tapat sa
       tungkulin ang namamahala.

    Ano nga ba ang hatid ng kaguluhang ito?
Kaginhawaan o Kahirapan?
Kabuhayan o Kamatayan?

Ang katotohanang ito'y--------
Isang malagim na karimlan!
Pagluha para sa aming mga kabataan,
Crestine Cuerpo
at pagmamaka-awa para sa darating naming kinabukasan,

Oo.....masakit ang mawalan,
Ngunit kailangan kong maging matapang,
Dahil ako'y isang Pilipinong handang lumaban,
Kaya't sigaw ko Pagbabago! Katarungan!

Sa mga kinauukulan:
   Nasaan? Nasaan? ang inyong pagmamalasakit sa kapwa at sa bayan?
Kung sa isip at puso niyo'y  para lamang sa pera at kapangyarihan?


Kapatid... Kapuso.... Kabarkada....  at Kapamilya.......
Gumising ka ang lahat ay may-----hangganan.
ln Aug 2014
Maybe it's the way the national flag flies so high
Despite the country's imperfections
Maybe it's the way we're united
Not separated, despite the difference in cultures,
Believes, traditions, languages

Maybe it's the way you see an Indian eating with chopsticks,
The way you see a Malay in a saree,
The way you see a Chinese making ketupat's for Hari Raya.

Maybe it's the unity you see,
Maybe it's the goosebumps you feel when you say Merdeka,
Maybe despite the hate you have towards history,
Deep down, you know how grateful you are to be Malaysian.

Maybe it's the way you walk into a mamak,
And say
" tauke tapau roti canai 1 milo ais 99 "
And maybe,
It lies in diversity,
Beyond everything else.

*Malaysia, tanah tumpahnya darahku.
Pluma Apr 2015
Kling Klang....  Kling.. Klang..

Tunog ng kampana'y sumisigaw ng kagalakan,
Amihan hanging sumisimbolo ng isang Banal na kaarawan.

Saanman pumaroo't-pumarito'y puno ng kasiglahan;
Mga hapag-kaina'y dinadagsa ng iba't-ibang kasaganaan,
Mumunting kislap sa bawat bahay ay pawang madadaanan,
At mga magigiliw na parol sa bawat poste'y isa-isang nagtitingkaran.

Habang ang lahat ay masiglang nagkakantahan,
Isang lalaki ang naglalakad sa makipot na eskinitang daanan,
Maruming damit, gusgusing katawan,
Balbasing mukhang mistulang mga puno sa isang mayabong na kabukiran.

Pasuray-suray n'yang tinahak ang kadiliman,
Dala ang isang boteng alak na kanyang nag-iisang kasamahan.
Mga lasing na hakbang ay pilit binibitawan,
Mumunting yapak patungong bahay na kubli sa kasayahan.

Pagdating sa bukana, bote'y itinapon sa pintuan.
Nagsusumigaw at pilit humihiyaw na siya'y agad na pagbuksan.
Isang babaeng puno ng pasa't sugat ang kanyang naalinagan;
Mayuming mukhang naging busangot ng dahil sa kahirapan.

Ilang minuto pa'ng nakakaraan,
Isang nakakakilabot na sigaw ang pumagitna sa masasayahang kantahan,
Iyak na pilit tinatago, pinipigilan ngunit sa huli'y sumuko't mabilis na nagsilabasan.

Ang katanungan, ano nga ba ang dahilan ng kasuklam-suklam na sigaw na nasaksihan?

Mistulang iyak ng pagkahabag ng kalangitan
Ang unti-unting nagsipatakan.
Ulang nakisabay sa nakakakilabot na kalagayan -
Binubugbog ng lalaki ang asawa; ang kanyang pinangakuan ng pag-iibigan,
Isang taon pa lamang ang nakakaraan!

Dugo'y nag-unahan sa pagpatak,
Nagsimula sa kanyang kaibuturan binaybay hanggang sa kanyang talampakan.
Babae'y nanghina't nagsumamo
Na tigilan na ng kabiyak ang pambababoy dito at sa *anghel
sa tiyan nito.

Ngunit ang tainga niya'y nagmistulang sungay;
Walang bahid ng pag-aalinlangang pinagpatuloy ang maling labanan.
Tengang-kawali't pinag-igihan pa'ng pagsipa't pagsuntok sa tinuturing n'yang kalaban.

Dala ng matinding droga, ang haligi ng kabahayan ay naging sundalo't kaaway sa sarili niyang tahanan.
Mistulang militar na naging ispeya't traydor sa dapat sana niyang pinagsisilbihang kaharian.

Ilang araw pa'ng nakalipas, isang nakakabangungot na kaganapan,
Ang naging usap-usapan sa pamayanan.
Isang inang nilapastangan ang nakitang walang malay, duguan at butas ang sinapupunan.

Sa gitna ng pighati't panlulumo,
Ang kampana'y muling umiyak ng pakikiramay.
Tunog ng madamdaming dalamhati.
Musikang malumanay,
.......dahan-dahang naghahatid sa inosenteng sumakabilang buhay.


*
Kling Klang... Kling.. Klang..
Bells and their ironies.
Nakasisilaw* sa Kapitolyo
Sa sentro ng siyudad
Tatak ng probinsyang pabo.

Sari't sari ang trayanggulong baligtad
Nasa ere silang kumukumpas
At tila ba may spotlight sa norte paroon
"City of the Living God,"
Inukit sa tabla ng di kilalang manlililok.

Minsan ding naging "City in the Forest,"
Sabi pa sa balita'y "Safest place in the Philippines"
Bagkus ang pagmimina'y tuloy pa rin
Lalo na sa Rio Tuba na ramdam ang Climate Change.

Dagdagan pa ng pamimihasa ng PALECO
Hihiramin nang saglit ang kakaunting ilaw at hangin
Nang di maglao'y mapa-"OO" ang lahat
Sa mungkahi nilang planta ng pagbabago.

Bulag sila't barado ang isip
Kikitilin ang hanapbuhay ng mga residente
Walang kamalay-malay ang iilan
Ito'y mitsa na pala ng pagdarahop.

Hahalayin ang tigang na lupa
Bubungkalin raw ang kinabukasan
Bagkus ang pawis ay sa atin
Tayo'y alila ng karatig-bansa
Dayuhan sa sariling bayan.

Titirik sila sa espasyo
Bisig ng tabing-dagat na buhangi'y sutla
Inosente nga sa Salvage Zone
Paano pa kaya pag naimplementa na?

Likido ang bawat anino sa semento
Tumatakbo't tumatagpo sa iba't ibang direksyon
Hindi makapuswit ang mga sasakyan
Maging ang simpleng harurot
Ng munting bisekleta ni Juan.

Doon ko nasilayan ang magigiting na pulis
Taas-noong suot ang uniporme
At iilang traffic enforcer
Na wala sa linyang puti.

Tila bawat uri ng katauha'y nasa parada
Kung hindi man,
Sa iilang personang lumalabas-pasok sa eksena
Kukuha ng larawan, akala mo eksperto
Hindi naman pala
Ayos, selfie pala ang gusto
Dekorasyon ang mga artistang Netibo.

Bawat munisipyo'y may nagsisilbing pambato
Makukulay ang mga sasakya't pudpod ng disenyo
Na sa kahit sa palamuti'y maitaas ang munisipyo
Buhat sa pagkabiktima ng gobyernong manloloko.

Highlight nga ang Street Dancing
Aba't ang layo ng kanilang lakarin
At sa bawat kanto'y sasabay
Sa saliw ng Remix na musikang inihain.

Nalugmok ang puso ko
Bagamat ito'y nararapat na saya ang dulot
Ito'y nagsisilbing maskara na lamang
Nakasanayan, naging tradisyon
Ang kulturang laging may bahid ng eleksyon.

Nakaririmarim ang iilang nasa trono
Pinalibutan ng berdeng hardin ang sentro
Bulong ng Supplier doble pala ang presyo
Aba't sige nga, saan nila ibubulsa?
Kung ang kanila'y umaapaw pa.

Bagamat ang lahat ay nasa bilog
Paikut-ikot tayo sa animong sitwasyon
Tanging takbuhan nati'y ang Maykapal
Na hanggang sa huli'y magwawasto ng bawat kamalian.

Sa probinsyang kinalalagyan
Ito'y nag-aalab na espada ng lipunan
Bawat isa'y responsable't may pananagutan
Tamang dedikasyon sa sandigang bayan.

Walang masama sa pagiging alarma
Maging aktibo ka, kabataan
Ikaw ang pag-asa ng Perlas ng Silanganan
Abutin mo yaong pangarap at manindigan
Hindi pansarili, bagkus pag sa tuktok na'y
Gawin ang tanging tama
Na naaayon sa batas ng higit na Nakatataas.

(6/29/14 @xirlleelang)
452

The Malay—took the Pearl—
Not—I—the Earl—
I—feared the Sea—too much
Unsanctified—to touch—

Praying that I might be
Worthy—the Destiny—
The Swarthy fellow swam—
And bore my Jewel—Home—

Home to the Hut! What lot
Had I—the Jewel—got—
Borne on a Dusky Breasty—
I had not deemed a Vest
Of Amber—fit—

The ***** never knew
I—wooed it—too—
To gain, or be undone—
Alike to Him—One—
ACMP Oct 2015
Lumingon ka at panandaliang tumitig ang iyong mga mata.
Sa iglap ng pagkakatama, puso natin ay nagtugma.
Yumuko ka't mga mata'y naningningkit ng bahagya.
Pinagmasdan ko na lamang ang pagngiti mo sa sahig.
Habang ang mga tao sa iyo, sa akin, sa ating paligid.
Walang kamalay-malay sa namumuo nating pag-ibig.
zoe May 2017
unang latag ng lupa,
nangabubuhay dahil sa
tapak ng walang kamalay malay
sa pinagdaanan nito.
dala ang delusyon ng buhay
kapalit para sa bayan,
kapalit para sa kalayaan.
lumamin,
ay mahahayag ang
luad
tumutulad sa kulay ng
dugo.

alam ng bulaklak ito,
kung sundan ang pinanggalingan
magugulat sa makikita;
ang kababayang
kinalimutan ang kanilang madugong,
matimbang,
maalamat
na mga pangalan;
inalala ng halaman.

                 sementeryo,
bawat hakbang, walang respeto
bawat hakbang, nadudumihan
ang mga mukha ng (bayani)                   taksil
(pinaglaban)                                       trinaydor ang
kanilang, (at sa dinarami-rami pang mga
sambayanang pilipino)
tinubuang lupa

                  sementeryo,
kaya't malalim ang pananampalataya
sino bang hindi
maadwa,
maawa?
bawat segundo may dadasalan
bumagsak;
at lumalalim ang kulay ng
                                       pula.

                 sementeryo,
kaya't pagbagsak ng
alas quatro ng umaga;
nananahimik ang bayan.
katahimikan para sa patay;
         walang sisigaw.
ginagambala ang kapayapaan.
sa ilalim ng lupa,
ang katahimikan hindi makamtan.
lahat sila'y gising,
lahat sila'y

                                                         sumisigaw.

                 sementeryo,
ang   tahanan       ko'y         sementeryo,
kaya't manahimik
at irespeto ang patay;
ang mga mamayang madamdamin
at malakas ngunit
                                                        pi­natahimik.
tayong buhay
               nananatiling patay.
silang patay
               nananatiling buhay.

isang siklo.
lalalumin lahat ng lupa
ng hindi sa tamang oras;
isisigaw ang K A R A P A T A N !
isisigaw ang M A L I !
isisigaw ang H U S T I S Y A !

H U S T I S Y A
H U S T I S Y A
H U S T ngunit walang makakarinig.

ang nakabukang bibig
mapupuno ng tinubuang lupa
na tinaksil ang lahat
ng katulad natin.

walang makakarinig
kahit buong daigdig
                                                         ­                 manahimik.
Sabi mo sa akin tumingala ako sa langit
At tingnan ang mga talang kaakit akit
Nang ako'y tumingin sa kalangitan
Ni isang ningning ay wala akong namataan
Nasan ang sinasabi mo?
Bakit ang labo mo?

Sabi sa isang dyaryong aking nadampot
Ang mundo'y puno na ng poot
Simoy ng hangi'y hindi na presko
Pagsasa walang bahala, eto ang epekto

Puro nalang kasi AKO AKO AKO
Wala manlang SILA SILA SILA
Paano na nga ba ang iba?
Parati nalang sila ang taya
Kelan ba sila makakalaya
Tila ang tadhana'y maramot at madaya

Mga walang kamalay malay
parati nalang nadadamay
sa mga bagay bagay na tayo ang may gawa
Tila hindi na nagsawa
Sa ilang ulit nang pagmamaka awa

Sila ang nagbigay,
bumuhay
and nagpalago
sa ating ekonomiyang nagduduwal ng daan daang salapi
at nagbibigay sa atin ng gatas na naiiwan pa sa ating mga labi

Tayo? Kelan kaya tayo makapagbibigay?
Kanilang pangangailangan
parati nalang "mamaya na yan"
Kung kelan huli na ang lahat
Kung kelan tayo na'y salat
Saka lang mapapansin
na malapit na tayong mag dildil ng asin

Hindi ba pwedeng baliktarin?
Baliktarin ang pamamaraan natin
Sila naman ang pagbigyan
Uhaw na sila sa kalayaan
FREEDOM ISLAND! FREE DEYUM ANIMALS! DONT TAKE AWAY THEIR HOMES!
Sa gitna ng kawalan
Ay makakita tayo ng kasagutan
Sa ating mga katanungan
Na umaaligid sa ating mga isipan
Na kailanman ay maaaring hindi na mabigyan
Ng tamang sagot o ng kasagutan
Ngunit patuloy parin tayong naghahanapan
Sa pamamagitan ng paghanap sa ibang tao
O paghahanap sa kung ano anong bagay
Hanggang sa ating huling hininga'y
Hindi tayo tumigil sa paghahanap ng sagot sa ating buhay
Micheal Wolf Feb 2013
Phoenician to  Aramaic 950 BC the start of modern writting for others to see
Then Hebrew to  Moabite then Phrygian as well around 800 BC
The written word was now afoot, oh Ammonite as well

Then a split as often comes between one arab and another
Old North Arabian and Old South Arabian argue with each other
So moving west Etruscan came at 700 BC
Then Umbrian and North Picene you heard of them today?

As Lepontic and Tartessian tried to talk to others
Now we start to get a grip and influence the modern
From Lydian to Carian,  Thracian to Venetic
All around the 6th century BC people started jotting

Old Persian came and went Latins still around
Then South Picene and Messapian to Gaulish
Language now ruled the world and all the ways we wrote it

Mixe–Zoque some say isnt really true
But Oscan and Iberian followed on through
So Meroitic,  Faliscan at 300 BC came next
Then Volscian and Middle Indo-Aryan or Prakrit the Ashoka calls it
Then one thats still around Tamil you might know it

Christianity was on its way as Galatian was used
Pahlavi and Celtiberian al cald pre antiquity
Lets move on till after Christ and language moves full on

Bactrian and Proto-Norse in northen europe common
Cham and Mayan, Gothic and Ge'ez and accepted Arabic
Christs been dead 300 yrs and language starts to flourish

Primitive Irish now exists and an odd one called Ekoi
Try to remember though its still only the 4th century

Georgian now is used in a  church in Bethlehem
A bible is written  in Armenian
Kannada in Halmidi
West Germanic to that becomes  Old High German
English now for the first time starts to rear its head

Old English to Korean  Tocharian to  Old Irish
In parts of southern England they even speak Cornish  
Centuries before Pol *** there is now Cambodian
Others speaking Udi, Telugu and Tibetan
Now language is getting modern

Old Malay in the far east to Welsh in my back yard
It wasnt long before the world was writting many forms
Mandarin and English now are common place
A miriad of people and language in their states

So venture forth to foreign lands and visit as a guest
Take a pen and paper to help you on your quest
If you can cross your legs or draw a beer you really cant go wrong
Remember you dont speak their tongue its you not them thats dumb!!!
Taltoy Jul 2019
Wala akong maisip na pamagat,
Wala akong maalala sa kabila ng lahat,
Pero alam kong ikaw yan,
Nakilala kita dyan aking kaibigan.

Isang cringey na namang tula ito
Hahaha sa rami ba namang naibigay ko sayo,
Baka paulit uli na nga ang mga laman,
Pero galing talaga sa puso ang mga laman. (Yieee cringe moment nambawan)

Ilang araw nalang pasukan na naman,
Makikita mo na naman ex ni kwan, (u be like pagbasa mo “jether foul!”)
Pero alam kong wala kang galit sa kanya,
Kasi di ka naman yung tipong nagtatanim ng kawayan diba?

Parating maging mapagpakumbaba,
Wag mo nang patulan ang mga alam **** mababaw nga,
Wag **** kalimutan ang iyong mga makakapitan
Magulang kapatid, kaibigan, at higit sa lahat ang iyong kasintahan. (Chour, sabihin mo lang sa akin na “sya man rason ba”)

Ang tulang ito ay lumalabas na aking mga kamay,
Getting out of hand ika nga,
Diba parang wala lang akong malay?
Sabog, tulad nitong aking tula.

Parating maging positibo,
Wag kalimutang kasama mo ang Diyos,
Kahit ang elbi man ay daanan ng  lindol o bagyo,
Alam kong malakas ang pananalig mo.

Hindi kita makakalimutan,
Nandito lang ako kaibigan,
Nasa kabisayaan,
Pero isang chat or text lang naman.

Isang maligayang kaarawan,
Parating ngumiti sa bawat araw na dadaan,
Alam kong nakakapagod mag-aral pero kaya mo yan,
At naway sa muli nating pagkikita di mo ako makalimutan.
Bortdiiiiii! Ahahaha
Crissel Famorcan Jan 2018
Elementarya ako nang pinangarap kong maging manunulat,
Kaya't nagsikap ako at natutong magsulat
Ikatlong taon ko sa hayskul nang isulat ko ang kuwento nating dalawa
Kuwentong pinangarap ko pang maipa-imprenta
Kaya't pinaghusayan ko ang paglikha at pagdetalye
'Straight to the point' at walang mga pasakalye
Maraming natuwa sa bawat tulang alay ko sayo,
Pero sa lahat ng yun? Kritisismo at pangungutya ang isinusukli mo
Ngunit hindi ko inintindi iyon at patuloy akong sumulat,
Baka sakali.. isang araw,malay ko? mata mo'y mamulat
Mamulat sa pag-ibig na ibinibigay ko,
Baka isang araw,makita mo rin yung halaga ng mga regalo ko,
Baka isang araw, masuklian mo rin yung pagmamahal kong buo
Baka kasi wala ka lamang barya,
At nahahanap ng panukli kaya ka abala,
Kaya naghintay ako ng ilang taon,nagpakatanga..
Pero mukhang di na yata ako masusuklian pa
Kaya naisip kong makuntento sa kung anong meron tayong dalawa
Pagkakaibigan.
Pero di ko maiwasang masaktan
Sa tuwing magkukuwento ka o nagtatanong tungkol sa kanya,
Hinahayaan ko na lang at least nakakausap kita!
Kahit na yung paksa natin madalas,tungkol lang sa musika
Ayos lang! Basta nakakausap kita.
Kahit nagmumukha na akong tanga
Okay pa rin! Basta nakakausap kita.
Ngunit nakakapagod din maging tanga
Kaya mahal, ako'y magpapaalam na.

Sa paglapat nitong panulat sa aking kwaderno
Ay isusulat ko na ang huling bahagi ng ating kuwento,
Tutuldukan ko na ang mga huling pangungusap
At puputulin na ang mga ilusyon ko't pangarap
Dahil kung hindi'y lalo lang akong mahihirapan
Lalo lang akong masasaktan.
Makapal na ang libro,paubos na ang mga pahina
Nakakaumay ang kuwento na pinuno ng mga luha
Panahon na sinta ko upang mag umpisa akong muli,
Hindi ko na hihintayin ang hinihingi kong sukli
Pagkat panahon na rin upang sumaya akong muli.

Salamat sa lahat ng alaala
At pasensya na sa mga abala
Mahal ito na ang huli kong regalo
- Hindi ko na ibabalot pa
Pagkat alam kong wala ka rin namang pagpapahalaga
At sa huling pagkakataon,gusto kong malaman mo,
Na may isang AKO na minsang nagmahal sayo.
Ito na ang huling pahina ng ating libro
At sa pagsara ko dito,kasabay ang paglisan ko sa mundong ginagalawan mo.
cosmos Jan 2016
Sana pala sinabi ko nalang ang totoo
Noong pwede pa

Sana pala hindi ko nalang inisip
Ang mga negatibong pwedeng mangyari
Kapag sinabi ko ang totoo
Dahil anong malay ko kung kahit sa maliit na tsansa lamang
Mahal mo rin pala ako

Sana pala sinabi ko'ng "dahil gusto pa kitang makausap"
Nang tanungin mo  kung bakit hindi pa 'ko matulog ng mahimbing

Sana pala sinabi ko'ng "dahil mas importante ka"
Nang tanungin mo kung bakit sa dinami-dami ng dapat ko'ng gawin
Ay ang kausapin ka'y di muna udlotin

Sana pala sinabi ko na
Na ang mga tala sa kalangitan
Ay mas nagniningning
Mula nang makilala ka
Na ang pagtaas at paglubog ng araw
Ay mas makulay
Dahil napapanood ito gamit ang iyong mga matang mapupungay

Sana pala sinabi ko na
Na mahal na mahal kita.
Sana pala
Ginawa ko na.
Ngunit huli na nga ata talaga.
annvelope Oct 2014
I don't know a lot of things
But,
I do know Life is good and serious.

So this morning I woke to the touch of a morning sun, softly teasing my eyes apart. I found the smile I thought I had missed. The first thing that came into my mind was the word 'grateful'. I am very grateful for my amazing family and friends and my wonderful cozy home. I’m also consistently thankful for the little things in life that remind me just how lucky I am. But at this moment, at this point, I just want to jot down everything that makes me feel thankful for having a powerful and strongest boyfriend in my life. You had no idea how this feeling blessed for the millionth time.

When I describe the perfect boyfriend I could have, I think of one I already had. Actually, to me perfectness in my eyes does exist. What I call perfect is my boyfriend Hedzmy. The first thing I noticed was his long wavy jet black hair and I was hooked (well not literally hooked at that time) because he wasn't my taste after all (maybe it's because of he is so Melayuish a.k.a typical malay guy). I'm constantly impressed with the ones who speaks very well in English. But, that was before. The longer I get to know him, the more I began to get bonded...and then I fell deeply in love with him. I don't even know how that happened.

Hedzmy is such an amazing guy, not that tall, smart, sensitive, he got the cutest smile, has a pair of beautiful very-dark brown eyes and a very unique hairstyle. He is the sweetest person you could ever meet. He wears nice clothing, he loves to dress preppy on some special occasions or either any day at times. An example of wearing preppy clothing will be a nice casual long sleeves shirt, nice printed T, slanted skinny pants, and nice high top Converse shoes. His favorite color is red, he loves good food and a good passion in photography. He plays guitar, eventhough it wasn't that good, but I just love watching him play and sing. Yet, you had no idea how much I love his voice.

I’ve been together with my boyfriend for 1 year. Hedzmy has been such a wonderful person to me. He has been there for me, cared for me and loved me like no one else ever had. Every time I’m not in a great mood, he always finds a way for me to smile and laugh and forget about the bad things. He has even got me going forward to a good path so I can make my dreams come true and so I can be the happiest person alive. But I’m happy as long as he is with me and is there for me. I may ******* things up a lot throughout our relationship, but it just happened and I didn't mean to hurt his feelings as well. I love my boyfriend so much and it scares me when I realized that for the first time in my entire life, I was really falling in love. Falling in love for who he is. He's amazing. Eventhough there were times I recalls when he tweeted about how he wish he could turn back time to save his previous relationship and so on, (that was like after we've been together for almost half of months), well it really breaks my heart. Imagine how someone sees you for the first time and telling you how much they want you to be with them but the fact is they still can't let go of the past? Painful isn't it? So I began to seek for attention by making a lot of friends with boys but none of them attracts me. It is because, I love my boyfriend. I just want to be with him. I have the guts to take him to see my parents. How I love seeing him tested by my mom to see if he could tolerate her.

Sometimes, in the beginning, and even still today, I’ll become untrusting and difficult, attacking out of nowhere. The naive trust that I had so long ago got used up and beaten up by the wrong person. But unlike that wrong person, when he used to attack for no reason, chase protects everything.

I had no goal in my life but to make him happy. I was in fear of loosing him, loosing this companionship between us. Loosing something I have placed so much effort into. Thus I had no confidence to speak up for 1 year, there was no sense of belonging, passion or safety. Just me thinking this is the best thing that had ever happened me, I won't be able to find anyone else and I didn't want to loose it, so I would do what ever it takes to protect it.

Many people say perfectness is nowhere to be found but in my world there is. Hedzmy is perfect, no matter of fact he is beyond perfect. He doesn’t see the perfect and amazing part in him but I do. Now, what makes me happy is his English is improving! And I am so glad I could help him bits by bits. Sometimes the little things in life mean the most, right?

Happy 1st Anniversary Sayang,
           I love you to the moon and back! **
menmarou Dec 2014
~Entry #1 12.02.14

Akala ko madali lang ang lahat. Ang yabang ko pa.. sabi ko mai-inlove din saken to. pero mali pala..
ako yung na-inlove eh.

Ang sakit pala, kasi ginawa ko na lahat ng kaya ko, lahat ng paraan para lang abutin siya, tulungan siya, kasi naiintindihan ko siya.. sobra.
Pero ang sakit pala kapag ikaw lang yung lumalaban. ikaw lang yung naghahangad ng happy ending, kasi sa dulo walang ganun, walang happy ending..
kasi nde pa siya maka move on.
ang masaklap pa nito ..
matatanggap ko pa sana kung yung mga umaaligid na babae kasi madali naman sila paalisin, pero yung kalabanin mo yung bababeng minahal niya ng sobra bago ka dumating..
nde ko kaya. ang sakit pala.
ang tanga ko kasi nde ko kayang magalit sa kanya, kasi hanggang ngayon naiintindihan ko pa din siya.
lintik na one sided to oh. nde ko alam na ganito pala kasakit ang mag mahal ng isang taong nde sayo..
let me rephrase that. taong nde magiging sayo
akala ko. yang word na yan, madaming namamatay diyan . isa na ako dun,
naniwala ako sa sarili ko na magiging okay ang lahat sa amin. pero nde pala..
ibang iba sa reality, kainis kasi eh napaka hopeless romantic ko kaya ayan kahit imposible sumugal..
pero nakita ko na kasi na ganito mangyayari eh,
nasa isip ko. "nde naman siguro ganon, kasi kahit papaano mahalaga na ako sa kanya, malay mo naman diba? mai-nlove"
Assuming din kasi ako, kasalanan ko din..
sa simula pa lang naman kasalanan ko na. Sinubukan ko kasi gusto ko siya eh. gustong gusto.
pero eto pa din ako, naghihintay, umaasa pa din ako kahit pinaliwanag niya na sa akin na nde pwede.
nakakulong kasi siya sa regret at pain in the past. sabi niya gusto niya lang daw ako "protektahan" lintek na.

Nasasaktan na ako eh. sobrang sakit.
welcome to SMP menma.
~unspoken feelings.
Bryant Arinos Aug 2017
"Napakaraming tao dito sa atin ngunit bakit tila walang natira"

dug dug dug

Bubuksan mo ba to o hindi?
Pag di mo to binuksan pwersahan kaming papasok!

Tatlong katok muli

Pagkatapos isang tadyak sa pinto ang gumising sibilyan na natutulog sa kama mag-isa.

Pagkapasok agad,
Sinaktan, pinuruhan, sinapak at sinikmuraan
Tinutukan ng baril, tinakot bago pakunwaring pinatakbo.
Sinigurado ang pag-asinta sabay kalabit ng gatilyo.

Patay ang hinihinalang druglord sa kanto.

Ngunit pagkatapos, walang patunay na nahanap.
Isang maling pagpatay nanaman ang naganap.

Pagkatapos ng gabing iyon, di lang isa ang namatay.
Isang pamilya ang kinunan ng walang kamalay-malay.


Kung sino pa ang nasa posisyon iyon pa ang mga kaaway ngayon.
Kung sino pa ang nakakangat, siya pa tong namiminsala ngayon.
Nasa mataas nang upuan pero hangad pa rin ay pag-angat.
Halatadong di napapansin, ay hindi! Halatadong walang pake sa mga taong nasa baba.

Pinagmukhang sirko ang mundo, pinapasunod ang bawat tao na parang aso.
Inanyaya pa ang lahat ng madla ng parang ganito.

"Mga bata, matatanda! Halina kayo panoorin ninyo ang palabas naming inihanda at ipakikilala ko sa inyo ang mga kapwa ko sirkero. Na namamahala sa sirkuhang ito."

Palakpak
Palakpak, yan ang nais ng sirkero diba pagkatapos ng palabas?
Pero lahat ng mga tinuring ninyong hayop ay nakawawa at mistulang mamatay na. Ay hindi patay na, yung iba nama'y ginawa ninyong bulag na tagasunod.
At pag wala nang kwenta iiwanan sa daan para damputin ng iilan at buburahin ang mga bakas na naiwan.

Mga kamay nakagapos

Walang takas

Walang lakas

Pagkahimlay

Walang naiwang bakas.

Ang galing maglinis ng krimen, mismong nangakong maglalaan ng pagmamahal ay ang mismo ring sa bansa sumasakal.

Oo, sawa na ako sa tunog ng kampana sa tuwing magmimisa dahil may isa nanamang nawala.
Rindi ang tenga ko sa paulit-ulit na hiyaw, sa paulit- na hiyaw at sa paulit-ulit na hiyaw ng inang umiiyak sa libing ng nagiisang anak.

Kelan pa ba matatapos ang pwersahang pagkitil ng buhay sa pilipinas?
Matagal nang nangangakong magbibigay sila ng kapayapaan pero kasabay nito ang paghawak ng baril sa kanilang kanang kamay.

Mga kamay nakagapos

Walang takas

Walang lakas

Pagkahimlay

Walang naiwang bakas

Makabagong istilo ng pagpatay sa Pinas
Magpapanggap na tagapagligtas, pagkatalikod mo'y

Paalam Pilipinas ang huli **** mabibigkas.

"Napakaraming tao dito sa amin ngunit bakit tila walang natira?"

Pinapatay sila....
#StopExtraJudicialKilling
Poti Mercado Jan 2018
Puno ng init ang unang higop ng kape
Nakakapaso ngunit ramdam mo ring gumuguhit ito sa iyong mga ugat
Hanggang sa umabot na ito sa iyong pusong bumibilis na ang pagtibok
Sa iyong mga kamay na walang tigil ang panginginig
Sa iyong mga matang mulat na mulat sa hating-gabi
At sa iyong mga bibig na nananatiling bukas at handang sabihin ang lahat ng ninanais

Ngunit sino ba ang iyong kape?
Ang nagbibigay sa’yo ng panandaliang lakas?
Sino ba siyang nagiging rason para manatili kang gising sa gabi kahit gustong-gusto mo nang matulog?
Sino ba siyang nagdudulot ng matinding panginginig sa iyong mga kamay at tuhod sa tuwing nakikita mo siya?
Sino ba siyang nagpapabilis ng pagtibok ng iyong pusong naghahanap lamang ng panibagong taong mamahalin habang inaantay **** mawala ang paso sa iyong dila na nadulot ng iyong nakaraang baso ng kape na punong-puno ng pait?

Ayan na’t naglalakad na siya papunta sa’yo
Inaantok ka pa at walang kamalay-malay na nariyan na pala siya
Papalapit nang papalapit hanggang sa nauwi nang magkahawak ang inyong mga kamay at ayan na naman
Ang pagbilis ng tibok ng iyong puso
Ang walang tigil na panginginig ng iyong mga kamay
Ang pananatiling bukas ng iyong mga mata
Kahit gusto na nitong pumikit, magpahinga, at mamaalam na sa ginagalawang mundo

Ngunit tulad ng epekto ng kapeng iniinom mo araw-araw
Papawi rin ang pananabik at pagkamulat ng iyong mga mata
Mapapagod din ang iyong pusong nalasing na sa dami ng kapeng iyong nainom na akala mo’y matamis ngunit nag-iiwan din pala ng mapait na bakas sa iyong mga labi
Titigil din ang panginginig ng iyong mga kamay
Sadyang panandalian lang at hinding-hindi na tatagal
Sapagkat siyang kape na nagbibigay sa’yo ng lakas
Ay siya ring kape na inubos mo hanggang sa huling patak
George Andres Jul 2016
Hindi na ako iibig sa isang bagay na mamamatay rin lang
Hindi ko na ibibigay ang oras sa mga 'yong mapanlinlang!
Tigilin mo na ang paglublob saakin sa mga panaginip ng magpakailanman
Hindi totoo ang pag-ibig sa mamamatay rin lang
At iiwan ang imortal kong pag-ibig na tiwangwang sa gilid ng daan
Wala nang malay na siya ay tinalikuran ng isang bagay namamamatay rin lang
At di kayang punan ang puso kong kulang kulang

Nais kong umibig sa kalayaan
Isang bagay na di ko mahahagkan ni mahahawakan
Gusto kitang ibigin, o kalayaang mailap
Sa buhay kong kay tagal di hinagap

Isisigaw ang ngalan mo sa mga nais umapi sa 'yo
At agawin ka man ng kahit kanino
Hayaan mo't nandito akong mamamatay para sayo
Dahil ikaw ng pinili kong ibigin
Sa sibat o bala handa kang sagipin
Ialay ang boses na para sayo lamang
At walang ibang magkakamkam

Ikaw lamang ang hindi mamamatay
Na maski pagkaraan ng daan taong namatay
Ay muli ring mabubuhay
Kung mawala ka man saakin o aking giliw
Di kailanman nila'y maitatago di ako bibitiw
Ang pagkulong sayo sa mga kadena o sa likod ng rehas
Ay kahangalan ng isang batang mapangahas
O matatawag ko siya, mahal, na isang ungas

Dahil nagsusumigaw ka kailan pa man
Hindi ka nila maaagaw o kalayaan

Sapat na ang nagdugong puso ko noon kay hustisyang binalatan ng buhay sa aking harapan
Ubos ang laman, ginahasa't binayaran
Ang nais ko lang naman ay 'wag siyang mamimili ng pagnanasaan
Lumapit ako sa kanya ngunit anong maiaalay ng aking karukhaan?
Di pa sapat ang aking kamalasan
Binaligtad aking katotohanan
Maging ang pagkapantay pantay
Na siya rin mismo ang pumatay
7816
jia Jul 2020
"TAHIMIK!" sigaw ng mga nasa itaas,
mga taong gumagawa ng batas,
ngunit ang hustisya'y hindi patas,
'pagkat sa kanila ang batas ay may butas.

"TAHIMIK!" sigaw ng mga may kapangyarihan,
mga taong inaasaahang maging huwaran,
sa panahon na sila'y ating kinakailangan,
ang tanging naitatanong ay "saan?"

"TAHIMIK!" sigaw ng mga mapagmanipula,
mga taong ginagawang hanapbuhay ang pulitika,
pondong mga winawaldas at nawawalang parang bula
ang mga sagot ay tanging paghuhula.

"TAHIMIK!" sigaw ng mga ayaw sa kritisismo,
mga takot sa hinaing at nagrereklamo,
mga tutang kinain ng koloniyalismo,
sa ibang bayan sila ay tila maamo.

ngunit sa kabila ng lahat ng pagtatahimik,
patuloy kang umimik,
sa hustiya at paglaban ay maging sabik,
sa mga mapanakot huwag magpapitik.

ipagpatuloy ang pagiingay,
sa masa ika'y sumabay,
magising ka sa iyong malay,
pagkamakabayan huwag sanang mawalay.

huwag **** hayaang kunin ang boses natin,
'pagkat ang pag-aaklas ay pilit na isinalin-salin,
mag-salita ka pa rin,
hindi lang para sa'yo kundi para rin sa akin.

ialay ang mo ang salita mo sa mamayan,
ikaw ang maging tunay na huwaran,
susunod na henerasyon iyong ipasan,
mag-ingay sa kahit anong paraan.

"TAHIMIK!" ani ng taong bayan,
sawa na sa pagmamanipula na naghahari-harian.
"TAHIMIK!" ani ng mga mamamayan,
tandaan na laging buksan ang mata at isipan.
mula sa masa, tungo sa masa

#JunkTerrorBillNow #VetoTerrorBill
Austine May 2014
Kumusta na raw tayo, ang tanong nila
Ewan, malay ko kung kumusta na nga ba
Tayo

Simpleng tanong na hindi ko alam ang sagot
Ano nga bang nangyari sa
“Tayo”?

Inisip ko ang nakaraan
Pinagmasdan bawat pagpatak ng ulan
Hinanap ang kislap
Ngunit tila hindi pa rin sapat
Upang mawari ko ang sagot
Sa tanong na bumabalot
Sa ating mga puso
Na pulos nagbabalatkayo

Kumusta na tayo?
Anong nangyari sa magandang kahapon?
Bakit sa aking muling paglingon,
Ikaw na rin ay nakatalikod?
Hindi ba’t iyong sinabi
Na sa piling ko ika’y mananatili?
Bakit sa bawat paglakad mo
Ikaw ay palayo nang palayo?
Hindi ba may usapan tayo
Na sa akin ka patutungo?
Nasaan na ang mga pangako
Na sinabi **** di mapapako?

Kumusta na tayo?
Ikaw lang ang sagot.
clarkent Aug 2017
Noon gumagawa ng tula
Tungkol sayo at saking pangungulila
Sabi ko, andito ako at hihintayin kita
Kahit pa masaktan basta sabi ko, mahal na mahal kita
Parepareho lang ang tema
Laging tungkol doon ang nalalathala
Yung paghihintay na muli'y mapasaakin ka
Sabi ko, sige na, pagbigyan mo na
Pagbigyan mo na na tayo ay maulit pa

Ngayon sabi ko,
Tama na muna siguro
Wala naman kasing nangyayari sa lahat ng sinasabi ng mga tula na 'to
Kahit sabihin mo pang mahal mo pa rin ako
Yung isip ko lalo lang gumugulo
Siya pa rin naman ang hawak mo
Tapos satin wala namang nagbabago
Di ako napapagod magmahal at maghintay sayo
Pero naisip ko, sa susunod na lang aasa sa "tayo"

Bukas, malay mo magkatagpo na naman
Dito, doon o saanman
Malay mo baka pwede nang muling simulan
Yung naputol na pagmamahalan
Kung kaya nang ipaglaban
Kung kaya nang panindigan
Kung kaya nang kalimutan
Yung masasakit na nagdaan
Kung nanaisin nang muling balikan
Saka na lang ulit natin pagbiyan

Mahal, gusto ko lang sabihin
Laman nitong puso't isip ay ikaw pa rin
Habambuhay nang nakatatak sa paningin
Ngunit akin munang palalayain
Sa malayo na lang kita hihintayin
Sa malayo na lang muna kita mamahalin
Hindi na muna kita pipilitin
Hayaan na lang muna natin
Kung saan tayo dalhin ng hangin
Dun na lang muna aasa, sa tayo ay muling pagtagpuin
Stephanie Sep 2018
Walang Pamagat
: A Spoken Word Poetry by Stephanie Dela Cruz

Malumanay ang pagkumpas ng mga kamay ng orasan
Sumasabay pa tong nakakabinging katahimikan
At ako? Nandito sa loob ng apat na sulok ng munti kong silid
Kabisado ko na ang bawat detalye ng kwartong ito ngunit ito parin, nagmamasid
Na para bang nasa ibang lugar ako, nangingilala, nagtataka
Tulad ng kung paanong maraming tanong ang gumagambala sa katahimikan ng sandali
Mga tanong na habang pilit kong hinahanapan ng sagot ay mas lalo lamang nagpapaalala sayo
Sayo at kung anong meron tayo… noon
Para ka rin palang kwarto ko.
Kilala kita, kabisado ko na ang takbo ng isip mo
Alam ko kung kailan ka nagsisinungaling kapag sinabi **** “okay lang ako”
Alam ko kung ano yung mga tugtuging hinahanap-hanap ng pandinig mo
Alam ko kung paano magniningning ang mga mata mo kapag nakakakita ka ng cute na aso
Alam ko dahil inalam ko, alam ko dahil ipinaalam mo, alam ko dahil ginusto kong malaman
Kilala kita, kabisado ko ang bawat tibok ng puso mo
Pero muli, para ka rin palang kwarto ko
Na kahit gaano kita kakilala at kakabisado, naguguluhan pa rin ako
Nangingilala;
Nagtataka;
Dahil kahit naging malapit ka sa akin ay tila parang napakalayo mo pa rin
At kahit gaano kita kakabisado ay hindi ko pa rin alam ang kasagutan mo sa mga  tanong na iniwan mo sa akin kasabay ng pag-alis mo sa buhay ko:

bakit.

Bakit ka pumasok sa nananahimik kong buhay para pasiglahin ito at sa huli ay iwan ako?
Bakit mo ipinadama sa akin na importante ako para lang isang araw ay ipadama na wala na kong halaga sayo?
Bakit mo ako nilapitan nang may ningning sa mapupungay **** mata at matamis na ngiti sa iyong mga labi?
Bakit mo ipinaulit-ulit ng bigkas ang pangalan ko na hanggang ngayon ay musika sa akin?
Bakit ka nagpakilala para lang sa huli ay limutin?
Bakit ka lumapit sa akin na parang isang apoy na nagbigay liwanag ngunit siya rin palang tutupok sa akin?
Bakit ka dumating sa buhay ko para lamang sa huli ay lumisan?

Ang daming bakit pero iisang bakit lang ang gusto kong sagutin mo.

Bakit mo ako iniwan ng biglaan?

At hindi naman ako tanga.
Alam ko na iba tayong dalawa.
Sabihin mo nga sa akin kung paano ko hindi bibigyan ng pansin ang sigaw ng mga kilos **** sinasabing espesyal ako?
Paano kung sabihin ko sayong pinakinggan ko ang bulong ng puso mo noong unang beses na inaya mo akong kumain sa labas?
Paano kung sabihin ko sayo na narinig ko ang pangalan ko sa pagitan ng pagpintig ng pulso mo noong inabot mo ang mga kamay ko?
Paano kung naiintindihan ko ang ibig sabihin ng mga biro **** nagpapahiwatig na ako ang gusto mo?
At paano kung sabihin ko sayo na nakita ko ang nakaukit na ‘mahal kita’ sa ningning ng mga mata mo sa tuwing magkasama tayo?

Hindi naman ako tanga.

Alam mo ba? Tayo ang tulang ito.

– walang pamagat

Kumbaga sa linya ng isang kanta ay “oo nga pala, hindi nga pala tayo”
Na katulad ng isang pelikula, hindi lahat ay nagtatapos sa happy ending
At katulad ng isang nobela, masaya man o malungkot, lahat ay nagtatapos

Sa lahat ng nobela, itong sa atin yung kuwento na hindi naisulat ngunit nagtapos
Natapos ngunit walang paalam

Kahit wala tayong pamagat, gusto kong pahalagahan ito
Dahil ito yung meron tayo.
Medyo magulo pero ito, tignan mo, naisingit ko na yung salitang “tayo”

Sayang.

Sana kumapit ka pa.

Naiisip ko pa rin gabi-gabi kung bakit ka lumayo
Patawad, naaalala pa rin kita kahit hindi ko naisin
Patawad, umaasa pa rin ako na babalik pa sa dati ang lahat
Dahil naniniwala pa rin ako na nobela tayo
At hindi pa nagtapos ang kuwento noong huling beses na humakbang ako palayo at hindi ka nagsayang ng segundo para lumingon sa direksyong tinahak ko

Naghihintay ako.

Mali pala ang pagkakagamit ko ng mga salita.

Wala pa tayong pamagat

Ngunit malay mo balang araw ay magkaroon din at habang hindi pa dumadating ang araw na iyon, ipipikit ko ang mga mata at ibubulong sa hangin na…

sana malaman mo na mahal din kita.
Saudade Aug 2016
Naaalala mo pa ba?
Minsan din tayong naging masaya.
Nagsimula sa pagkakaibigan,
Nauwi sa walang pansinan.
Naaalala mo pa ba?
Mga panahong sabi natin ay tunay tayong magkaibigan,
Walang kamalay malay na mauuwi sa pagkakasakitan.
Naaalala mo pa ba?
Sabi mo noon maging ang mga bituin ay sumasangayon sa atin.
Ngunit hindi nila nasabi na hindi ka para sa akin.

Naaalala mo pa ba?
Mga kalokohang napag-uusapan,
Ngayon ay hindi magawa kahit banggitin ang iyong pangalan.
Naaala mo pa ba?
Sinabi kong lagi lang akong magiging andiyan,
Lingid sa aking kaalaman na ako pala ang maiiwan.
Naaalala mo pa ba?
Na minsan din tayong naging magkaibigan,
Sana hindi na lang nauwi sa pagmamahalan,
Marahil ngayon ay nagtatawanan.
Maaalala mo pa ba?
Kung ako'y nagawa mo nang iwan,
Siguro'y kailangan na ding kalimutan.
Maaalala mo pa ba?
Kung ikaw ay akin nang bibitawan,
Sapagkat pati ang ating pagkakaibigan ay iyo na atang nalimutan.
Maaalala mo pa ba?
Humihilingin na maalala mo parin sana.
I.
Fair Isabel, poor simple Isabel!
Lorenzo, a young palmer in Love's eye!
They could not in the self-same mansion dwell
Without some stir of heart, some malady;
They could not sit at meals but feel how well
It soothed each to be the other by;
They could not, sure, beneath the same roof sleep
But to each other dream, and nightly weep.

II.
With every morn their love grew tenderer,
With every eve deeper and tenderer still;
He might not in house, field, or garden stir,
But her full shape would all his seeing fill;
And his continual voice was pleasanter
To her, than noise of trees or hidden rill;
Her lute-string gave an echo of his name,
She spoilt her half-done broidery with the same.

III.
He knew whose gentle hand was at the latch,
Before the door had given her to his eyes;
And from her chamber-window he would catch
Her beauty farther than the falcon spies;
And constant as her vespers would he watch,
Because her face was turn'd to the same skies;
And with sick longing all the night outwear,
To hear her morning-step upon the stair.

IV.
A whole long month of May in this sad plight
Made their cheeks paler by the break of June:
"To morrow will I bow to my delight,
"To-morrow will I ask my lady's boon."--
"O may I never see another night,
"Lorenzo, if thy lips breathe not love's tune."--
So spake they to their pillows; but, alas,
Honeyless days and days did he let pass;

V.
Until sweet Isabella's untouch'd cheek
Fell sick within the rose's just domain,
Fell thin as a young mother's, who doth seek
By every lull to cool her infant's pain:
"How ill she is," said he, "I may not speak,
"And yet I will, and tell my love all plain:
"If looks speak love-laws, I will drink her tears,
"And at the least 'twill startle off her cares."

VI.
So said he one fair morning, and all day
His heart beat awfully against his side;
And to his heart he inwardly did pray
For power to speak; but still the ruddy tide
Stifled his voice, and puls'd resolve away--
Fever'd his high conceit of such a bride,
Yet brought him to the meekness of a child:
Alas! when passion is both meek and wild!

VII.
So once more he had wak'd and anguished
A dreary night of love and misery,
If Isabel's quick eye had not been wed
To every symbol on his forehead high;
She saw it waxing very pale and dead,
And straight all flush'd; so, lisped tenderly,
"Lorenzo!"--here she ceas'd her timid quest,
But in her tone and look he read the rest.

VIII.
"O Isabella, I can half perceive
"That I may speak my grief into thine ear;
"If thou didst ever any thing believe,
"Believe how I love thee, believe how near
"My soul is to its doom: I would not grieve
"Thy hand by unwelcome pressing, would not fear
"Thine eyes by gazing; but I cannot live
"Another night, and not my passion shrive.

IX.
"Love! thou art leading me from wintry cold,
"Lady! thou leadest me to summer clime,
"And I must taste the blossoms that unfold
"In its ripe warmth this gracious morning time."
So said, his erewhile timid lips grew bold,
And poesied with hers in dewy rhyme:
Great bliss was with them, and great happiness
Grew, like a ***** flower in June's caress.

X.
Parting they seem'd to tread upon the air,
Twin roses by the zephyr blown apart
Only to meet again more close, and share
The inward fragrance of each other's heart.
She, to her chamber gone, a ditty fair
Sang, of delicious love and honey'd dart;
He with light steps went up a western hill,
And bade the sun farewell, and joy'd his fill.

XI.
All close they met again, before the dusk
Had taken from the stars its pleasant veil,
All close they met, all eves, before the dusk
Had taken from the stars its pleasant veil,
Close in a bower of hyacinth and musk,
Unknown of any, free from whispering tale.
Ah! better had it been for ever so,
Than idle ears should pleasure in their woe.

XII.
Were they unhappy then?--It cannot be--
Too many tears for lovers have been shed,
Too many sighs give we to them in fee,
Too much of pity after they are dead,
Too many doleful stories do we see,
Whose matter in bright gold were best be read;
Except in such a page where Theseus' spouse
Over the pathless waves towards him bows.

XIII.
But, for the general award of love,
The little sweet doth **** much bitterness;
Though Dido silent is in under-grove,
And Isabella's was a great distress,
Though young Lorenzo in warm Indian clove
Was not embalm'd, this truth is not the less--
Even bees, the little almsmen of spring-bowers,
Know there is richest juice in poison-flowers.

XIV.
With her two brothers this fair lady dwelt,
Enriched from ancestral merchandize,
And for them many a weary hand did swelt
In torched mines and noisy factories,
And many once proud-quiver'd ***** did melt
In blood from stinging whip;--with hollow eyes
Many all day in dazzling river stood,
To take the rich-ored driftings of the flood.

XV.
For them the Ceylon diver held his breath,
And went all naked to the hungry shark;
For them his ears gush'd blood; for them in death
The seal on the cold ice with piteous bark
Lay full of darts; for them alone did seethe
A thousand men in troubles wide and dark:
Half-ignorant, they turn'd an easy wheel,
That set sharp racks at work, to pinch and peel.

XVI.
Why were they proud? Because their marble founts
Gush'd with more pride than do a wretch's tears?--
Why were they proud? Because fair orange-mounts
Were of more soft ascent than lazar stairs?--
Why were they proud? Because red-lin'd accounts
Were richer than the songs of Grecian years?--
Why were they proud? again we ask aloud,
Why in the name of Glory were they proud?

XVII.
Yet were these Florentines as self-retired
In hungry pride and gainful cowardice,
As two close Hebrews in that land inspired,
Paled in and vineyarded from beggar-spies,
The hawks of ship-mast forests--the untired
And pannier'd mules for ducats and old lies--
Quick cat's-paws on the generous stray-away,--
Great wits in Spanish, Tuscan, and Malay.

XVIII.
How was it these same ledger-men could spy
Fair Isabella in her downy nest?
How could they find out in Lorenzo's eye
A straying from his toil? Hot Egypt's pest
Into their vision covetous and sly!
How could these money-bags see east and west?--
Yet so they did--and every dealer fair
Must see behind, as doth the hunted hare.

XIX.
O eloquent and famed Boccaccio!
Of thee we now should ask forgiving boon,
And of thy spicy myrtles as they blow,
And of thy roses amorous of the moon,
And of thy lilies, that do paler grow
Now they can no more hear thy ghittern's tune,
For venturing syllables that ill beseem
The quiet glooms of such a piteous theme.

**.
Grant thou a pardon here, and then the tale
Shall move on soberly, as it is meet;
There is no other crime, no mad assail
To make old prose in modern rhyme more sweet:
But it is done--succeed the verse or fail--
To honour thee, and thy gone spirit greet;
To stead thee as a verse in English tongue,
An echo of thee in the north-wind sung.

XXI.
These brethren having found by many signs
What love Lorenzo for their sister had,
And how she lov'd him too, each unconfines
His bitter thoughts to other, well nigh mad
That he, the servant of their trade designs,
Should in their sister's love be blithe and glad,
When 'twas their plan to coax her by degrees
To some high noble and his olive-trees.

XXII.
And many a jealous conference had they,
And many times they bit their lips alone,
Before they fix'd upon a surest way
To make the youngster for his crime atone;
And at the last, these men of cruel clay
Cut Mercy with a sharp knife to the bone;
For they resolved in some forest dim
To **** Lorenzo, and there bury him.

XXIII.
So on a pleasant morning, as he leant
Into the sun-rise, o'er the balustrade
Of the garden-terrace, towards him they bent
Their footing through the dews; and to him said,
"You seem there in the quiet of content,
"Lorenzo, and we are most loth to invade
"Calm speculation; but if you are wise,
"Bestride your steed while cold is in the skies.

XXIV.
"To-day we purpose, ay, this hour we mount
"To spur three leagues towards the Apennine;
"Come down, we pray thee, ere the hot sun count
"His dewy rosary on the eglantine."
Lorenzo, courteously as he was wont,
Bow'd a fair greeting to these serpents' whine;
And went in haste, to get in readiness,
With belt, and spur, and bracing huntsman's dress.

XXV.
And as he to the court-yard pass'd along,
Each third step did he pause, and listen'd oft
If he could hear his lady's matin-song,
Or the light whisper of her footstep soft;
And as he thus over his passion hung,
He heard a laugh full musical aloft;
When, looking up, he saw her features bright
Smile through an in-door lattice, all delight.

XXVI.
"Love, Isabel!" said he, "I was in pain
"Lest I should miss to bid thee a good morrow:
"Ah! what if I should lose thee, when so fain
"I am to stifle all the heavy sorrow
"Of a poor three hours' absence? but we'll gain
"Out of the amorous dark what day doth borrow.
"Good bye! I'll soon be back."--"Good bye!" said she:--
And as he went she chanted merrily.

XXVII.
So the two brothers and their ******'d man
Rode past fair Florence, to where Arno's stream
Gurgles through straiten'd banks, and still doth fan
Itself with dancing bulrush, and the bream
Keeps head against the freshets. Sick and wan
The brothers' faces in the ford did seem,
Lorenzo's flush with love.--They pass'd the water
Into a forest quiet for the slaughter.

XXVIII.
There was Lorenzo slain and buried in,
There in that forest did his great love cease;
Ah! when a soul doth thus its freedom win,
It aches in loneliness--is ill at peace
As the break-covert blood-hounds of such sin:
They dipp'd their swords in the water, and did tease
Their horses homeward, with convulsed spur,
Each richer by his being a murderer.

XXIX.
They told their sister how, with sudden speed,
Lorenzo had ta'en ship for foreign lands,
Because of some great urgency and need
In their affairs, requiring trusty hands.
Poor Girl! put on thy stifling widow's ****,
And 'scape at once from Hope's accursed bands;
To-day thou wilt not see him, nor to-morrow,
And the next day will be a day of sorrow.

***.
She weeps alone for pleasures not to be;
Sorely she wept until the night came on,
And then, instead of love, O misery!
She brooded o'er the luxury alone:
His image in the dusk she seem'd to see,
And to the silence made a gentle moan,
Spreading her perfect arms upon the air,
And on her couch low murmuring, "Where? O where?"

XXXI.
But Selfishness, Love's cousin, held not long
Its fiery vigil in her single breast;
She fretted for the golden hour, and hung
Upon the time with feverish unrest--
Not long--for soon into her heart a throng
Of higher occupants, a richer zest,
Came tragic; passion not to be subdued,
And sorrow for her love in travels rude.

XXXII.
In the mid days of autumn, on their eves
The breath of Winter comes from far away,
And the sick west continually bereaves
Of some gold tinge, and plays a roundelay
Of death among the bushes and the leaves,
To make all bare before he dares to stray
From his north cavern. So sweet Isabel
By gradual decay from beauty fell,

XXXIII.
Because Lorenzo came not. Oftentimes
She ask'd her brothers, with an eye all pale,
Striving to be itself, what dungeon climes
Could keep him off so long? They spake a tale
Time after time, to quiet her. Their crimes
Came on them, like a smoke from Hinnom's vale;
And every night in dreams they groan'd aloud,
To see their sister in her snowy shroud.

XXXIV.
And she had died in drowsy ignorance,
But for a thing more deadly dark than all;
It came like a fierce potion, drunk by chance,
Which saves a sick man from the feather'd pall
For some few gasping moments; like a lance,
Waking an Indian from his cloudy hall
With cruel pierce, and bringing him again
Sense of the gnawing fire at heart and brain.

XXXV.
It was a vision.--In the drowsy gloom,
The dull of midnight, at her couch's foot
Lorenzo stood, and wept: the forest tomb
Had marr'd his glossy hair which once could shoot
Lustre into the sun, and put cold doom
Upon his lips, and taken the soft lute
From his lorn voice, and past his loamed ears
Had made a miry channel for his tears.

XXXVI.
Strange sound it was, when the pale shadow spake;
For there was striving, in its piteous tongue,
To speak as when on earth it was awake,
And Isabella on its music hung:
Languor there was in it, and tremulous shake,
As in a palsied Druid's harp unstrung;
And through it moan'd a ghostly under-song,
Like hoarse night-gusts sepulchral briars among.

XXXVII.
Its eyes, though wild, were still all dewy bright
With love, and kept all phantom fear aloof
From the poor girl by magic of their light,
The while it did unthread the horrid woof
Of the late darken'd time,--the murderous spite
Of pride and avarice,--the dark pine roof
In the forest,--and the sodden turfed dell,
Where, without any word, from stabs he fell.

XXXVIII.
Saying moreover, "Isabel, my sweet!
"Red whortle-berries droop above my head,
"And a large flint-stone weighs upon my feet;
"Around me beeches and high chestnuts shed
"Their leaves and prickly nuts; a sheep-fold bleat
"Comes from beyond the river to my bed:
"Go, shed one tear upon my heather-bloom,
"And it shall comfort me within the tomb.

XXXIX.
"I am a shadow now, alas! alas!
"Upon the skirts of human-nature dwelling
"Alone: I chant alone the holy mass,
"While little sounds of life are round me knelling,
"And glossy bees at noon do fieldward pass,
"And many a chapel bell the hour is telling,
"Paining me through: those sounds grow strange to me,
"And thou art distant in Humanity.

XL.
"I know what was, I feel full well what is,
"And I should rage, if spirits could go mad;
"Though I forget the taste of earthly bliss,
"That paleness warms my grave, as though I had
"A Seraph chosen from the bright abyss
"To be my spouse: thy paleness makes me glad;
"Thy beauty grows upon me, and I feel
"A greater love through all my essence steal."

XLI.
The Spirit mourn'd "Adieu!"--dissolv'd, and left
The atom darkness in a slow turmoil;
As when of healthful midnight sleep bereft,
Thinking on rugged hours and fruitless toil,
We put our eyes into a pillowy cleft,
And see the spangly gloom froth up and boil:
It made sad Isabella's eyelids ache,
And in the dawn she started up awake;

XLII.
"Ha! ha!" said she, "I knew not this hard life,
"I thought the worst was simple misery;
"I thought some Fate with pleasure or with strife
"Portion'd us--happy days, or else to die;
"But there is crime--a brother's ****** knife!
"Sweet Spirit, thou hast school'd my infancy:
"I'll visit thee for this, and kiss thine eyes,
"And greet thee morn and even in the skies."

XLIII.
When the full morning came, she had devised
How she might secret to the forest hie;
How she might find the clay, so dearly prized,
And sing to it one latest lullaby;
How her short absence might be unsurmised,
While she the inmost of the dream would try.
Resolv'd, she took with her an aged nurse,
And went into that dismal forest-hearse.

XLIV.
See, as they creep along the river side,
How she doth whisper to that aged Dame,
And, after looking round the champaign wide,
Shows her a knife.--"What feverous hectic flame
"Burns in thee, child?--What good can thee betide,
"That thou should'st smile again?"--The evening came,
And they had found Lorenzo's earthy bed;
The flint was there, the berries at his head.

XLV.
Who hath not loiter'd in a green church-yard,
And let his spirit, like a demon-mole,
Work through the clayey soil and gravel hard,
To see skull, coffin'd bones, and funeral stole;
Pitying each form that hungry Death hath marr'd,
And filling it once more with human soul?
Ah! this is holiday to what was felt
When Isabella by Lorenzo knelt.

XLVI.
She gaz'd into the fresh-thrown mould, as though
One glance did fully all its secrets tell;
Clearly she saw, as other eyes would know
Pale limbs at bottom of a crystal well;
Upon the murderous spot she seem'd to grow,
Like to a native lily of the dell:
Then with her knife, all sudden, she began
To dig more fervently than misers can.

XLVII.
Soon she turn'd up a soiled glove, whereon
Her silk had play'd in purple phantasies,
She kiss'd it with a lip more chill than stone,
And put it in her *****, where it dries
And freezes utterly unto the bone
Those dainties made to still an infant's cries:
Then 'gan she work again; nor stay'd her care,
But to throw back at times her vei
Lost in shadows Jan 2014
From the 1880s into the 1960s, a majority of American states enforced segregation through "Jim Crow" laws (so called after a black character in minstrel shows). From Delaware to California, and from North Dakota to Texas, many states (and cities, too) could impose legal punishments on people for consorting with members of another race. The most common types of laws forbade intermarriage and ordered business owners and public institutions to keep their black and white clientele separated.

Examples of Jim Crow Laws

Nurses: No person or corporation shall require any white female nurse to nurse in wards or rooms in hospitals, either public or private, in which ***** men are placed. (Alabama)

Buses: All passenger stations in this state operated by any motor transportation company shall have separate waiting rooms or space and separate ticket windows for white and colored races. (Alabama)

Railroads: The conductor of each passenger train is authorized and required to assign each passenger to the car or the division of the car, when it is divided by a partition, designated for the race to which such passenger belongs. (Alabama)

Restaurants: It shall be unlawful to conduct a restaurant or other place for the serving of food in the city, at which white and colored people are served in the same room, unless such white and colored persons are effectively separated by a solid partition extending from the floor upward to a distance of seven feet or higher, and unless a separate entrance from the street is provided for each compartment.

Pool and Billiard Rooms: It shall be unlawful for a ***** and white person to play together or in company with each other at any game of pool or billiards. (Alabama)

Toilet Facilities, Male: Every employer of white or ***** males shall provide for such white or ***** males reasonably accessible and separate toilet facilities. (Alabama)

Intermarriage: The marriage of a person of Caucasian blood with a *****, Mongolian, Malay, or Hindu shall be null and void. (Arizona)

Intermarriage: All marriages between a white person and a ***** person or between a white person and a person of ***** descent to the fourth generation inclusive, are hereby forever prohibited. (Florida)

Cohabitation: Any ***** man and white women, or any white man and ***** woman, who are not married to each other, who shall habitually live in and occupy in the nighttime the same room shall each be punished by imprisonment not exceeding twelve (12) months, or by fine not exceeding five hundred ($500.00) dollars. (Florida)

Education: The schools for white children and the schools for ***** children shall be conducted separately. (Florida)

Juvenile Delinquents: There shall be separate buildings, not nearer than one fourth mile from each other, one for white boys and one for ***** boys. White boys and ***** boys shall not, in any manner, be associated together or worked together. (Florida)

Mental Hospitals: The Board of Control shall see that proper and distinct apartments are arranged for said patients, so that in no case shall Negroes and white persons be together. (Georgia)

Intermarriage: It shall be unlawful for a white person to marry anyone except a white person. Any marriage in violation of this section shall be void. (Georgia)

Barbers: No colored barber shall serve as a barber [to] white women or girls. (Georgia)

Burial: The officer in charge shall not bury, or allow to be buried, any colored persons upon ground set apart or used for the burial of white persons. (Georgia)

Restaurants: All persons licensed to conduct a restaurant, shall serve either white people exclusively or colored people exclusively and shall not sell to the two races within the same room or serve the two races anywhere under the same license. (Georgia)

Amateur Baseball: IT shall be unlawful for any amateur white baseball team to play baseball on any vacant lot or baseball diamond within two blocks of a playground devoted to the ***** race, and it shall be unlawful for any amateur colored baseball team to play baseball in any vacant lot or baseball diamond within two blocks of any playground devoted to the white race. (Georgia)
rufus Feb 2017
ngayon ko lang napansin. sobrang dami ko palang isinulat para sa'yo. ngayon ko lang napansin na lahat sila galing sa mga katabi kong diksyonaryo at tesauro. malay ko ba kung ano ang ibig sabihin ng mga isinulat ko. lumalaki pa lamang ako. ngayon pa lang natututong makipagtalastasan, makipagbalagtasan, makipagsagutan, makipag-away. ngayon pa lang akong natututong maghintay at ngayon pa lang nasusugatan. ngayon ko lang nalaman ang tunay na ibig sabihin ng paniniwala. paniniwala sa pagkahulog, paniniwala sa kung anumang gusto kong paniwalaan. paniniwala na meron ka pang mapapaniwalaan dito sa mundo. kapit ka, subukan mo. ngayon pa lang akong nagtitiwalang muli. ngayon pa lang nagpapatawad. ngayon pa lang nakakapagsabi ng 'mahal kita', nang walang pagdududa at walang pagsisisi. mahal ko talaga sila. ngayon ko pa lang nararamdaman ang tunay na pag-ibig. ngayon ko pa lang nakikita kung paano magmahal ang isang taong nasasaktan. ngayon pa lang ako nakakita ng taong durog at winasak ng panahon — marahil dati puro sa teleserye ko lang ito napapanood. noong pumunta kami sa isang museo, napakaraming uri ng sining na maaari **** makita. may mga head busts, paintings, sculptures, pati mga ginamit ng mga pintador na brushes at pati na rin mga natuyong pintura nila. tinignan ko lahat iyon. umabot ng halos labindalawang oras ang pag-iikot ko. walang kain-kain. kinailangan kong makita lahat. ngunit ngayon ko lang napagtanto na iisa lang naman 'yung gusto ko talagang makita. ('yung spolarium.) ngayon lang ako nakarinig ng mga taong wala talagang kamuang-muang sa mundo. 'yung tipo ng taong nakaupo sa ginto ngunit talagang lumaking tanga. nakakaawa sila. ngayon ko pa lang pinapangaralan 'yung sarili ko. kanina nga lang ako nagsabi sa sarili na hindi na ako kakain ng fast food at processed food. (seryoso. nakakamatay talaga sila.) sa pagkamatay ng nakaraan, noon ko lang nasabi sa sarili ko na gusto ko pa talagang mabuhay. gusto ko pang makakita. gusto ko pang makaramdam.

ngayon pa lang ako natututong magsulat.
kingjay Dec 2018
Ang haplos ay malamig
di man naninigas
nanatili walang kibo
Sa paghagok ay naninibago
-walang malay parang nag-iidlip

Isigaw ang pangalan ng mga santo, patron at lalo na  ng Diyos
-magbigay pugay
Ang pulso muna ay hanapin mula ulo hanggang binti

Ginto at pilak, walang katumbas
Ang hinirang na anak Niya'y di kinalimutan
Parirala ng buhay ay papintig-pintig
sa ibang dimensyon na ng daigdig

Tuldukan ang kasulatan sa Libro ng mga Buhay
Sapagkat buhat-buhat ang maputlang kamay
Sa kuko matatanto habang nakaratay
Nagiginawan pati ang laman na nasa hukay

Libu-libong ektarya ang pagpapasyalan
Maraming kakaibiganin maging sinuman
Nakikipagkapalagayan ng loob ang lahat-nagpapatawad
Pagbubuklodin ng pagsinta

Nililok ang estatwa sa dibdib ay namalagi
Paalalang ipirmi, di iwaksi
Samut-saring emosyon ng dilim ang ginamit sa pag-ukit
1017

Gusto kong bihisan ang bawat tugmang binibitiwan mo
Na para bang ayokong manatili ang mga ito
bilang mga sugnay na makapag-iisa
At magiging isang abstrak sa pagitan ng Ikaw at Ako.

Kung isusuma ko ang bawat pangambang parehas nating tinalo'y
Baka nga matagpuan ko ang katuturan sa sinasabi nilang Tayo
Pero sa aking paghihimay
Para bang ang Tayo ay isang katapusan na lamang
Na hindi na kailangang bigyan pa ng kahulugan
At tuklasin ang panibagong simula.

Sa aking paghahabi ng bawat salaysay
Na mismong binitiwan natin nang magkahiwalay,
Natuto na rin akong iahon ang sarili
At hindi na muling magpakamatay --
Magpakamatay ng mga pangarap na isinantabi
Sa sabi mo noong
Ika'y tunay na makapaghihintay.

Ang pag-urong ko sa laba'y hindi literal na pagsuko
Hindi ako sumuko sa laban
Na para bang tumatakbo nang nakapiring
At walang kamalay-malay sa kung saanman ang direksyon.

Umurong ako bilang distansya sa ating dalawa
At piniling sumuong sa umagang mag-isa --
Mag-isa at wala ka na
Wala ka na,
Naglaho ka na ngang talaga.
Para sayo pala
Baka sakali,
Baka sakaling marinig mo.
Sharina Saad Jun 2013
Haqiqat hai yaqeen karlo,
Men usko bhool kar khush ***….

“Muhabbat marr chuki hai ab,
Men usko bhool kar khush ***….

“Badalti rut ki waja se tabyat,
Kuch hai bojhal see….

“Yun mera haal na pocho,
Men usko bhool kar khush ***….

“Tumhen kia weham hai kyn,
Raat bhar milne nahi aaty.???

“Aye mere nennd ki paryon
Men usko bhool kar khush ***….

“Udasi sary ghar men,
Pheeli jati hai ghum bankar….

“Tum har dewaar par likhdo,
Men usko bhool kar khush ***…!!

Translation to Malay Language

Aku gembira untuk melupakanya

Amanah ku ini adalah realitinya
Dan aku gembira untuk melupakannya

Cinta yang telah meningal dunia
Dan aku gembira untuk melupakanya

Translation to English:

I am happy I am not sad to forget
He is mine, that's reality
and I am glad to forget it all
The love has died
and I am happy to forget it all
perhaps the translations are not 100% accurate but the poem is about the death of love . Hope Atul Kaushal can help me with translation.
Nahimbing na ang lamparang iyong tangan-tangan
“Di patas ang laban,” yan ang wika mo
Bagkus ba’t ang gaas, di man lamang nasalinan?
Tinalikuran mo sya’t agad nang pinagkaitan.

Kasikatan ang nais ng nag-aalab **** puso
Mali man ang direksyon, sabay hithit at nakikiuso
Ba’t ba ang nais mo’y iwan ang liwanag?
Ba’t nais na ikahon ang sarili?
At sa dilim, saka susubo ng kutsara.

Narating man ang apat na sulok ng kwadra
Hugis bilog ang naging buhay
At panay indayog mo
Parang sirang plaka.

Pagal at walang kamalay-malay
Pagkat mga letra’y inabot ng kamalasan
Nilatigo sila’t naging busal pansamantala
Bilanggong may gitgit sa maling pagkalinga.

Bumuhos ang gaas, nasayang bigla
Ang apoy ay tubig na umusbong nang sagana
Bagkus hinagpis at pait sa sikmura
Abot sa langit na syang nagpapala.

(5/25/14 @xirlleelang)
Meena Menon Apr 2021
The eruption beatifies the magma.  
It becomes obsidian,
only breaks with a fracture,
smooth circles where it breaks.  

My mom was born on the grass
on a lawn
in a moss covered canyon at the top of a volcanic island.  
My grandfather lived in Malaysia before the Japanese occupied.  
When the volcano erupted,
the lava dried at the ocean into black sand.  
The British allied with the Communist Party of Malaysia—
after they organized.  
After the Americans defeated the Japanese at Pearl Harbor,
the British took over Malaysia again.  
They kept different groups apart claiming they were helping them.  
The black sand had smooth pebbles and sharp rocks.  
Ethnic Malay farmers lived in Kampongs, villages.  
Indians lived on plantations.  
The Chinese lived in towns and urban areas.  
Ethnic Malays wanted independence.
In 1946, after strikes, demonstrations, and boycotts
the British agreed to work with them.  
The predominantly Chinese Communist Party of Malaysia went underground,
guerrilla warfare against the British,
claiming their fight was for independence.  
For the British, that emergency required vast powers
of arrest, detention without trial and deportation to defeat terrorism.  
The Emergency became less unpopular as the terrorism became worse.  
The British were the iron that brought oxygen through my mom’s body.  
She loved riding on her father’s motorcycle with him
by the plantations,
through the Kampongs
and to the city, half an hour away.  
The British left Malaysia independent in 1957
with Malaysian nationalists holding most state and federal government offices.  
As the black sand stretches towards the ocean,
it becomes big stones of dried lava, flat and smooth.  

My mom thought her father and her uncle were subservient to the British.  
She thought all things, all people were equal.  
When her father died when she was 16, 1965,
they moved to India,
my mother,
a foreigner in India, though she’s Indian.  
She loved rock and roll and mini skirts
and didn’t speak the local language.  
On the dried black lava,
it can be hard to know the molten lava flickers underneath there.  
Before the Korean War,
though Britain and the United States wanted
an aggressive resolution
condemning North Korea,
they were happy
that India supported a draft resolution
condemning North Korea
for breach of the peace.  
During the Korean War,
India, supported by Third World and other Commonwealth nations,
opposed United States’ proposals.
They were able to change the U.S. resolution
to include the proposals they wanted
and helped end the war.  
China wanted the respect of Third World nations
and saw the United States as imperialist.  
China thought India was a threat to the Third World
by taking aid from the United States and the Soviets.  
Pakistan could help with that and a seat at the United Nations.  
China wanted Taiwan’s seat at the UN.
My mother went to live with her uncle,
a communist negotiator for a corporation,
in India.  
A poet,
he threw parties and invited other artists, musicians and writers.  
I have the same brown hyperpigmentation at my joints that he had.  
During the day, only the steam from the hot lava can be seen.  
In 1965, Pakistani forces went into Jammu and Kashmir with China’s support.  
China threatened India after India sent its troops in.  
Then they threatened again before sending their troops to the Indian border.  
The United States stopped aid to Pakistan and India.
Pakistan agreed to the UN ceasefire agreement.  
Pakistan helped China get a seat at the UN
and tried to keep the west from escalating in Vietnam.  
The smoldering sound of the lava sizzles underneath the dried lava.  
When West Pakistan refused to allow East Pakistan independence,
violence between Bengalis and Biharis developed into upheaval.  
Bengalis moved to India
and India went into East Pakistan.  
Pakistan surrendered in December 1971.  
East Pakistan became independent Bangladesh.

The warm light of the melted lava radiates underneath but burns.  
In 1974, India tested the Smiling Buddha,
a nuclear bomb.  
After Indira Gandhi’s conviction for election fraud in 1973,
Marxist Professor Narayan called for total revolution
and students protested all over India.  
With food shortages, inflation and regional disputes
like Sikh separatists training in Pakistan for an independent Punjab,
peasants and laborers joined the protests.  
Railway strikes stopped the economy.  
In 1975, Indira Gandhi, the Iron Lady,
declared an Emergency,
imprisoning political opponents, restricting freedoms and restricting the press,
claiming threats to national security
because the war with Pakistan had just ended.  
The federal government took over Kerala’s communist dominated government and others.  

My mom could’ve been a dandelion, but she’s more like thistle.  
She has the center that dries and flutters in the wind,
beautiful and silky,
spiny and prickly,
but still fluffy, downy,
A daisy.
They say thistle saved Scotland from the Norse.  
Magma from the volcano explodes
and the streams of magma fly into the air.  
In the late 60s,
the civil rights movement rose
against the state in Northern Ireland
for depriving Catholics
of influence and opportunity.
The Northern Irish police,
Protestant and unionist, anti-catholic,
responded violently to the protests and it got worse.  
In 1969, the British placed Arthur Young,
who had worked at the Federation of Malaya
at the time of their Emergency
at the head of the British military in Northern Ireland.
The British military took control over the police,
a counter insurgency rather than a police force,
crowd control, house searches, interrogation, and street patrols,
use of force against suspects and uncooperative citizens.  
Political crimes were tolerated by Protestants but not Catholics.  
The lava burns the rock off the edge of the volcano.  

On January 30, 1972, ****** Sunday,  
British Army policing killed 13 unarmed protesters
fighting for their rights over their neighborhood,
protesting the internment of suspected nationalists.
That led to protests across Ireland.  
When banana leaves are warmed,
oil from the banana leaves flavors the food.  
My dad flew from Canada to India in February 1972.  
On February 4, my dad met my mom.  
On February 11, 1972,
my dad married my mom.  
They went to Canada,
a quartz singing bowl and a wooden mallet wrapped in suede.  
The rock goes down with the lava, breaking through the rocks as it goes down.  
In March 1972, the British government took over
because they considered the Royal Ulster Police and the Ulster Special Constabulary
to be causing most of the violence.  
The lava blocks and reroutes streams,
melts snow and ice,
flooding.  
Days later, there’s still smoke, red.  
My mom could wear the clothes she liked
without being judged
with my dad in Canada.  
She didn’t like asking my dad for money.
My dad, the copper helping my mother use that iron,
wanted her to go to college and finish her bachelors degree.
She got a job.  
In 1976, the police took over again in Northern Ireland
but they were a paramilitary force—
armored SUVs, bullet proof jackets, combat ready
with the largest computerized surveillance system in the UK,
high powered weapons,
trained in counter insurgency.  
Many people were murdered by the police
and few were held accountable.  
Most of the murdered people were not involved in violence or crime.  
People were arrested under special emergency powers
for interrogation and intelligence gathering.  
People tried were tried in non-jury courts.  
My mom learned Malayalam in India
but didn’t speak well until living with my dad.  
She also learned to cook after getting married.  
Her mother sent her recipes; my dad cooked for her—
turmeric, cumin, coriander, cayenne and green chiles.  
Having lived in different countries,
my mom’s food was exposed to many cultures,
Chinese and French.
Ground rock, minerals and glass
covered the ground
from the ash plume.  
She liked working.  

A volcano erupted for 192 years,
an ice age,
disordered ices, deformed under pressure
and ordered ice crystals, brittle in the ice core records.  
My mother liked working.  
Though Khomeini was in exile by the 1970s in Iran,
more people, working and poor,
turned to him and the ****-i-Ulama for help.
My mom didn’t want kids though my dad did.
She agreed and in 1978 my brother was born.
Iran modernized but agriculture and industry changed so quickly.  
In January 1978, students protested—
censorship, surveillance, harassment, illegal detention and torture.  
Young people and the unemployed joined.  
My parents moved to the United States in December 1978.  
The regime used a lot of violence against the protesters,
and in September 1978 declared martial law in Iran.  
Troops were shooting demonstrators.
In January 1979, the Shah and his family fled.  
On February 11, 1979, my parents’ anniversary,
the Iranian army declared neutrality.  
I was born in July 1979.
The chromium in emeralds and rubies colors them.
My brother was born in May and I was born in July.

Obsidian—
iron, copper and chromium—
isn’t a gas
but it isn’t a crystal;
it’s between the two,
the ordered crystal and the disordered gas.  
They made swords out of obsidian.
This is the next part of Lava.

— The End —