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Joseph Floreta Nov 2016
Saging lang ang may puso,
Yan ang sabi nila kasi uso,
Dahil san man sila naroon,
Akala nila ganoon,
Ngunit hindi lang saging ang may Puso,
Meron din naman ako ngunit ito'y alay ko sayo,
Mawalan man ako ng puso kong ito,
Ayos lang basta't para sayo.
Basta't para sayo,
Yan ang katorpehang nasabi ko sa kanto,
Dahil sinayang mo ang puso kong ito,
Ngayo'y ganid at parang bato.
Parang bato,
Ngunit puso ng saging to,
Ano ba to?
Bat parang nakakalito?,
Nakakalito kasi di sunod sa uso,
Parang kantang sintonado,
Sakit sa ulo,
Nakakaloko.
Nakakaloko pala ang pagibig,
Na sayang lang laway ko sa bibig,
Nang ika'y awitan ng kantang pagibig,
Dahil gusto mo marinig ang kantang himig.
#Himig ng pagibig sa tinig ng gitarang hilig humimig ng kantang pumapag ibig...
Ken Alorro Sep 2015
Sa labing-apat na araw na nakilala kita
Minahal ka ng buo
Puso'y napahinto, natulala
Dahan-dahang bumilis ang bawat pintig
At sa bawat pintig na ginagawa nito
Dala'y dugo na umaasang sana mahalin ako

Namumulang pisngi
Namumulang labi
At kagaya ng dugo sa katawan
Akoy pinaikot-ikot, ikot, ikot...
Hanggang sa maubos ang enerhiya
Na baon-baon mula ulo hanggang paa

At sa dahon ng saging ako ay ibinalot
Na parang betamax
Iniluwa ng hindi nasarapan
Ikinamuhi dahil sa lasa
'Di ko alam kung ako'y tanga o nagmamahal lamang
At kung alin man ako sa dalawa
Hindi na mahalaga dahil alam kong mahal kita

Sa labing-apat na araw na nakilala kita,
Pinaglaruan mo ako
At kagaya ng mga bata sa lansangan
Ako ay naging kalsada
At ikaw, ikaw ang trak
Na piniling di pansinin ang mga butas sa ibabaw ng dibdib
Dinaanan lang
Hinayaang bukas
Nakabilad sa araw
At sa pagbuhos ng ulan
Tinulungang lunurin ng tubig na may dalang putik

Sa labing-apat na araw na nakilala kita
Minahal ka ng buo
Nang walang halong pag-aalinlangan
Na di inisip kung mahal din ba ako o hindi
Pero sa ating munting panahon
Nalaman ko na ikaw ay isang relihiyon
Na piniling isantabi ang agham
At ako, kagaya ng lahat ng bagay sa mundo mo
Ay isang bersikulo lamang ng iyong bibliya
Na kung hindi maintindihan
Gagabayan ang sariling kamay
At ibubuklat ang mga kasunod na pahina

Mahal, sa labing-apat na araw na nakilala kita
Pagod na akong maging kalsada
Ayaw ko nang maging parte ng iyong bibliya
At higit sa lahat
Hindi ako ang iyong dugo
Na gagawing betamax at ibebenta
Kapalit sa kapirasong salapi
Mahal, hindi ako iyon

At ngayong tapos na ang labing apat na araw
Magiging mahalaga ako para sa akin
Nasaktan, nadurog
Pero noon 'yon!

Mula ngayon tatanggi na ako
Tatanggi akong masaktan
Tatanggi akong paglaruan
Tatanggi akong gamitin
At higit sa lahat tatanggihan na kita
Lilimutin ko ang iyong pagkatao gaya ng paglimot mo sa akin.


Masakit, pero kaya.
Matagal, pero kailangan.
Marge Redelicia Feb 2014
Salo-salo ang lahat:
Nakaupo, nakadekuwatro
Sa isang mahabang bangko.
Ayos lang
Kahit medyo masikip
At nagkikiskisan ang mga siko.

Ang mesa'y nilatagan
Ng dahon ng saging.
Bawal ang maarte;
Walang mga pinggan
At iba pang kagamitan.

Nakakamay ang lahat sa pagkain
Ng maiging inihaw
Na sariwang malaman na tilapia.
Meron ding mga gulay
Na pinakuluan at nilaga:
May kangkong,
Okra, sitaw at talong.

Samahan mo pa
Ng hiniwa at tinadtad na
Pulang sibuyas at kamatis,
Na may halong bagoong
At piga ng kalamansi.
At sa wakas, ang panghimagas:
Mga gintong mangga
Na ubod ng tamis.

.   .   .   .   .

Napapasarap
Ang pinakasimpleng handa
Samahan lang ng kuwentuhang
Nagpapasaya at nagpapatawa
At siyempre kung salo-salo
Ang buong pamilya.
kingjay Dec 2018
Ngunit walang kaparis ang hinahanap na piyesa
Di mabibili gaya ng rubi't iba pang mamahaling bato
Tuluyan man pinabayaan ito'y di mapapalitan ng bago
Iisa lang ang puso ng saging sa mundo

Ang pagitan ay sinagtaon sa kinatatayuan at mithiin
Anggulo ng teleskopyo ay bahagya na pahilis
Lumihis ang tanaw sa Polaris
Paano matunton kung nalito sa direksyon
Maabot kaya ng radyasyon?

Guhitan nang matuwid ang Norte
Kumakapit pa sa pinaglalaban ang pobre
Sa dibinong galamay ng sansinukob
ang tumulong para hagilapin ang nawawalang bituin
at sulsihin tulad sa bahay-gagamba

Maitim na imahe ay nananakal
Tinangka na dakmain ito ngunit di masalat
Kumalma at hinay hinay gumulong,
inikot ang busol
Naalimpungatan nang lumabas datapwat panaginip ang lahat

Munting ninanais ay maisakatuparan kung ano ang nasa isip
Nang hindi na makagalaw, susunduin ng awa
At may aampon- habag ni Bathala
Mamamayan ng Kanyang paraiso'y manunumpa
Louise Oct 2023
Ang pagkain ng croissant at floss buns
sa public places.
O ng saging o hotdog sa jeepney.
Ng chocolate ice cream habang naka-all white ka.
Ang umibig ng mga taong may mental illness.
O ng taga-malayo o magkagusto sa pari.
Ng taong hindi maaaring ibigin.
Ang maki-apid sa asawa ng may asawa.
Ang kwarto **** napabayaang linisin
dahil mas masarap nga naman ang siesta.
Mas nakakahalina ang tawag ng pahinga,
kaysa talak ng pagliligpit.
Ang trend ng salted caramel everything
dahil mas mainam ang may konting alat.
Ang nakaligtaang lakad sa government offices
dahil mas kaakit-akit ang gumala.
Ang buhay **** salat sa kaayusan
dahil mas masarap ang makalat.
O, hindi ba?
Tom D Aug 2019
May I never be so old
That I can’t lie on a floor
Or become so set in my ways
That thinking makes me sore!

May I not be so dismayed
By what I can’t do anymore
And be mindful of what I can do
That I could not do before

May I laugh at the bitter cold
Even when it seems a chore
Appreciate the green of Spring
Isn’t that what Winter’s for?

May I season my old age
With a some pepper and some sage
And hope my conversation
Is not a dreadful bore
Charles Leonard Nov 2021
There once was a wise old sage, who for years carried with him a tiny ball of silken thread, given him, when first he started sageing. One morning, upon arising from a restless nights sleep, before going on with his days wanderings, he sat down beneath a tree to ponder the ball of thread. Gaining no realization from this, he stood and tied one end of the string to the tree. The other he would take with him on his day’s travel letting the ball unravel until at last it would be understood as but a single strand of silk. Without further delay or thought on the matter, he started off across the countryside.

At the end of the day, when the sun had at last fallen behind the farthest rise, and the ball of thread had at last dwindled down to but a single strand, the sage sat down to discover what meaning was to be found.

“It began as a ball of silken thread.” he thought. “It has come to an end where I now sit. Now I must either go tomorrow without the gift that was once given me, or waste today’s journey by following the string back to where I began this morning.” This dilemma brought the sage to meditate the rest of the night.

By morning he had arrived at what he hoped a wise solution.

With great determination the sage gave one, mighty yank, and broke the thread from the tree where he had tied it. Through the course of this new day’s journey, he wound the thread into the tiny ball it once was. That night he returned the ball to its pouch, and satisfied at last, lay down and died.
A prose poem from age 17 - almost half a century ago.
Jun Lit Aug 2019
bukal na buhay, dalisay, malamig
agos ng pag-ibig
ni Mariang Makiling
mula sa kanyang dibdib

duyan ni Rana
nagpapatulog kay Troides
ipinaghehele si Buot
sa harana nina Balikasyaw at Tariktik
pook-sayawan ng mga bayawak
tuwing konsiyerto ng mga paagang
at mga kuliglig

ninuno ng Lawa
ina ng kapa-kapa
ama ni Strongylodon
kapatid ng tibig at lipa
among tunay ng kawayang-tinik
uway, gugo, saging na pula
Aristolochia

Kagalang-galang kay El Niño
kinakanti-kanti ni La Niña
paliguan ng mamang hubo
labahan ng aling maganda

naglalaro
ang batang takot sa engkanto –
bingwit, tampisaw, lukso
sa mga bato

subalit
ang polusyon –
tahimik na namamaybay
isang almuranin –
mabalasik
ang kamandag
nakalalason, nakamamatay
sapagkat
mga tao’y nagbubulag-bulagan,
bulag.
English Translation:
Molawin

a living spring, pure, cool,
flow of love
from the *****
of Maria of Makiling

cradle of the frog Rana
puts the birdwing butterfly Troides to sleep
sings lullabies to Buot, the cloud rat
accompanied by serenades from the passerine Balikasyaw
and the hornbill Tariktik.
dance floor of the monitor lizards
every time the cicadas and the crickets
have their concerts

ancestor of the Lake
mother of the magnificent Medinilla
father of the Jade vine Strongylodon
sibling of the riverine fig and the nettle tree
the true lord of the spiny bamboo,
among tunay ng kawayang-tinik
rattan, shampoo liana, red banana
the vine Aristolochia

Respected by El Niño
Tickled by La Niña
bathing place of the naked man
washing area of the pretty woman

there they play
children weary of the forest fairies –
line fishing, treading, hopping
among the boulders

but
pollution –
silently swims with the flows
like the cobra, that there also grows –
potent,
its venom
poisons, kills
because
humans feign blindness,
are blind.

Additional Notes:
Rana, Troides, Strongylodon, Medinilla and Aristolochia are scientific (genus) names of a frog, birdwing butterfly, the Jade vine, a magnificent-flowered shrub at a vine that serves as a butterfly larval host plant, respectively, all found along the areas of Molawin Creek; their use in this poem is an attempt to illustrate the important role of biology in understanding the intricacies, not only of Molawin Creek, but also of the entire Mount Makiling, a forest reserve in the southern part of Luzon Island, The Philippines..
ilo May 2023
how do you miss someone you do not know anymore,
someone who does not exist anymore?

let me evict you from my mind!
stay away from the whole of me who you've never met
let me cherish myself to the fullest extent and do not come near me
do not linger in my mind,
reminding me of my youthful lack of progressiveness,
reminding me of my lack of choice and education
I was just a child
I did not understand what was happening or even who I truly was

And
please please please,
do not call me a victim.
Your voice is poison,
and you fetishize victims to feel like you're a better person.
They are collectables, yes?
Do any of them know about me?
15-year-old me, constantly tremoring?
wren
RyanMJenkins Apr 2019
I dated a ghost once, and after ghosting me for months she wound up getting really possessive.  I could see right through her and felt her intentions were oppressive.  Definitely a freak in the sheet and would promptly wake me from my sleep in the morning at three.  Sometimes raging she would throw so many things and blame it on me.  Not often responsive, she'd let me know where she was through a series of banging. Felt like I'd be talking to myself and going all types of crazy.  She once entered my dream and tried getting violent with me because I was with another lady.  That's when I knew it was time for saging.  Had to have an ancestor guide my pen In the breakup letter because my hands were shaky.   In this moment,finally, from that relationship I'm free.  Next time, maybe a dating site, and not the ******* Ouija.
Tanisha Jackland Aug 2020
They conjure up
Numbers from
the sacred air like
alpha shamans always do
saging poetics and
placing their hands
on the mouse of
your spine
just a page away
from nirvana
they say it would heal you
the old incantations
of an ancient
magic speaking to you
in tongues with clicks
layered in keyboard divination
they are here to say
you can illuminate
the world with love
laughing with your bellies
Melanie Jackson Sep 2019
Drip drip drop
Water leaks
From a low saging celling
Of old rotting wood
Drips onto the floor
Of light brown wood
With large dark knots
With warping and rotting
Long strands of bright green
Ivy crawls through
A window broken in
With yellowing shards
Sitting restlessly
On the floor
The hard sent of dust
Fills the air
Mixed with a slight musty tang
The room is huge
And though empty
It seems full with
all of the words
I could have said

— The End —