"plak" poems
Si Jamaeda:
Isa siyang matrona
na ang pangarap
ay ang wagas
na kagandahan.
Palagi siyang
nilalait ng kanyang
mga kaeskwela.
Maging mga kapatid niya
ay nilalayuan siya.
Samantala,
ang mga magulang niya
ay ikinahihiya
ang kanyang
kakatwang presensiya.
Isang araw,
kanyang natuklasan
isang natatanging pormula
upang makamtan
pinakamimithing kagandahan.
Mula sa laboratoryo
lumabas ang isang
mestisang diyosa
na siyang nagdulot
nang tiyak na pagkahulog
ng bawat panga
na nilalampasan niya.
Puri dito, puri doon.
Ang tainga niya
ay pumapalakpak.
Kaway rito, kaway doon,
hindi siya matigil
sa kahahalakhak.
“Sa wakas,”
ika niya,
kagandaha'y napasakanya.
Subalit,
ngunit,
datapwat,
langit biglang
kumulog,
kumidlat.
Habang ang diyosa'y pauwing
mahinhing naglalakad,
nakasalubong niya
ang isang matrona
na siyang nagpaalala
ng mapait na nakaraan niya.
Itsura ng matrona
sadyang kasuka-suka
mas masahol pa
sa dating muka ng diyosa,
wika ng marami
pinagsukluban ng langit at lupa
maging impyerno ay nakialam pa.
Hiling nito sa diyosa
ibahagi ang sikreto niya
sa pagbabago ng uling
at naging isang ginto,
ngunit ang kagandahan
ng diyosa'y panlabas lang
sapagkat kanyang budhi
lubos-lubos ang kaitiman.
Itinaas ang kilay
at saka pumanhik,
hindi niya namalayan
ang nagbabadyang panganib.
Plok! Plak!
Inay ko po'y kaysakit!
Ang diyosang marikit,
napasubsob sa putik.
Ngunit sa halip
na malambot ang lupang hahagip
'yon pala'y sa ilalim
may nakatagong talim.
Matigas niyang mukha
ginuhitan ng pait
ang maladiyosang matrona
nasiraan ng bait.
Lahat ng tao'y
naengganyong lumapit,
sa lakas ng kanyang sigaw
dahil sa sobrang sakit.
Imbis na tulunga'y
pinagtawanan, nilait.
“Hahaha! Buti nga sa 'yo,
mayabang ka kasi,”
ang kanilang sambit.
Luha niya'y nangingilid,
ngunit walang pasubali,
ang kutya nila'y sumasabay
sa ulang masidhi.
Sa hindi niya inaasahan,
dinamayan siya ng isa.
Isang pamilyar na mukhang
hindi rin naman
naiiba sa kanya.
Magbuhat noon,
natutunan niya
ang isang malaking
leksiyon:
“Mas masarap ang maging duryan,
kaysa maging isang mamon.”
Aug 29, 2017
Aug 29, 2017 at 3:46 AM UTC
‘Hemphu’ and ‘Mukrang’
Created this world!
We were born under the ‘Amora tree’
from the egg of ‘Wo Plak Pi’.
Then ‘Sum’ and ‘Sang’ trained us,
Edify us ‘karjong is everywhere’
It is there in air, soil, water, plant, animal.....
Every where!
So we must have admiration for them,
Must nurture and protect them!
Hearting ‘Krjong’ is a crime!
Now everywhere
There is a Chaos!
Rain fades away
Forest disappears
‘Ingnar’ and ‘Bongkrui’ar
are suffering from starvation!
Searching food here and there!
Now everywhere
There is a bedlam!
‘Hanthu’ and ‘Mehek’ are wane
Searching them in day and night!
How we prepare food for ‘Thong Nokbe’!
Now ‘Hi-i-Arnam’ is wandering
Everywhere!
Call everybody
Organize ‘Cho-jun’
to Keep karjong everywhere!
Call one and all
organize ‘Rong Arnam’
To shield karjong everywhere!
Call everyone
organize ‘Wophong Rongker’
To protect ‘karjong’ everywhere!
Sep 11, 2015
Sep 11, 2015 at 8:12 AM UTC
Click! Click! Click!
A sound I hear when I choose a song
Plak! Plak! Plak!
A sound I hear when I write a poem
Tik! Tok! Tik! Tok!
A sound I hear when I think so long
All these happens, boredom I know
Point! Point! Point!
A thing I do when I choose a song
Press! Press! Press!
A thing I do when I write a poem
Gasp! Glare! Gasp! Glare!
A thing I do when I think so long
All these happens, and I do not know
Think! Think! Think!
Stop!
Look!
Listen!
I know!
You are reading one senseless poem!
A sound of cheerful Noise!
Oct 7, 2013
Oct 7, 2013 at 5:42 AM UTC
Sprei jou vlerke
My struikel-kind
, want die berge se rante
Steek skerp teen die wind
Vlug vir jou onskuld
Vlug na die son
Vlieg weg van Gamora
ontsnap van *****
Vlieg ver oor die wolke
My struikel-kind
Daars ń storm wat broei
, maar hou jouself blind
Want sere en blase
Word gou-gou weer heel
Maar geen pleister plak toe
Die letsel van ***
Honger hande neig
Om jou kinderlikke onskuld van jou af weg te steel...
Sprei oop jou vlerke
My struikel-kind
Want die berge se kranse
Hang laag in die wind
Kruip weg vir die hande
Wat jou wil verslind
En keer terug na jou kinderdae
Om jouself weer te vind...
Liefde...
Van ń kaalvoet-kind
May 5, 2014
May 5, 2014 at 5:33 PM UTC
Kyk met horlosie swaai
kom wysheid , op een of ander manier...
Wanneer hardebaard hardehout fyn skuur
en boeta begin skuim pis-
dan is dit mos als goed en wel...
Jy's nou volwasse en verandwoordelik
vir jou kak, vir my kak en sommer die kakbak...
... en dan mag jy mos nou nie bloedkook nie
want daardie potte kom moeilik skoon
en behoed jy kort van dtraad raak
want as iemand nie aan jou been trek nie - wel ja
maar soms kom daardie klein
snotkoppie gees deur
as ander "volwassenes" vergeet
om die plooie die dag aan te plak.
Dan draai alles terug
en ek wens dat ek weer oud en koud
onder die kuwe kon raak,
want demoer in raak ek gougou
vir grootmens doeke en dommies.
Kyk ,sommige kak
moet maar net kinderkak bly,
want as my kinderhart weer vlam vat
is ek weer die duiwel se kind.
Dan draai ***** en giggles vinnig om
en wys ek *** snaaks dit kan wees
as mense val en seerkry.
Laat ek nou maar asemhaal
my das regtrek en heut...
ek is nou groot,
moet mos eintlik van beter weet.
Oct 26, 2014
Oct 26, 2014 at 11:49 AM UTC
Die donker dans in daai kind se oe
kyk *** die duiwel om hom draai en
walts met die doodsdonker nag
op die ritme van sy swak hart.
Die kind se swak hart
natuurlik bosluis die duiwel hom
toe op die bloedjie se bloed
tot sy are net gal spoeg.
Tant San se hy speel met vuur...
en sit op die doringdraad
tussen hierdie span en die ander
wie hy altwee lelik speel.
Oom Jaap se hy snuif hom slim
die gom is maar om sy hart weer
aanmekaar te plak en die spirits
vir die graffiti op sy spirit en sy soul
maar mens praat nie so van God se kind nie
die laaitjie praat met engele
en gaan eerder hemel toe as jy...
want geen mens gan tweekeer hell toe nie.
Hy wag net om te dooi...
Sjame , die arme kind.
Oct 26, 2014
Oct 26, 2014 at 11:53 AM UTC