"tig" poems
Sa irarum ku kanimong
matam-is na pagrukot
naintindihan ko
kung uno ibig sabihon
ku pagkapot mo
ku kanakong kamot,
ku mga text ****
malang siram
ulit-ulitong basahon,
ku magrani ka
mga labi mo
sa labi ko,
guru-gab-i ko
nababayad a magayon
**** mga mata,
maganting talaga a mga bituon,
pigdara ko kanimo
ku panahon na nauuda ako,
diri kabisado a lugar nag tangad
sana ako tapos tig sundan paiyan kanimo.
Kaiba ko ika sa irarum ko mga bituon,
nakatangad sana kita tapos
pigsisilngan su bulan na malakabilog,
nag ayat sa pabor
na sana...
sana...
bayaan na su nangyari ku kadto,
mig puon sa panibago,
gibohon na sanang ekpersyensya
su dating nangyari
ku kanatong mga deperensya.
Utro, puon sa uno,
nguwan diri ko na tutugotan
na mabayad ta ulit su puro.
Isi mo dawa kadakol na buwan
su naglipas diri nagbago
su tiwala ko kanimo.
Lang siram na payabaon ka,
Ika sana, uda na iba.
Kanakong Prinsesa
na diri mig uban magiging Reyna.
Nov 23, 2017
Nov 23, 2017 at 11:34 PM UTC
Sa sampu sigurong manggagawa ng Kentex
tatlo ang maglalakad nang napakalayo,
mula pinakamasikip na eskinita sa Valenzuela
hanggang pabrika para makatipid sa tricycle.
Sayang din kasi.
Dalawa siguro sa tatlong yun, babae,
may tig-isang anak na dumedede pa
at hindi pa talaga maiwan pero kailangan nang iwanan
kahit mahigpit ang pagkakakapit sa tuwing paalamanan
dahil mas mahigpit ang pangangailangan.
Sa sampung rin sigurong manggagawa ng Kentex
siyam yung nagbabaon ng kaning tinipid nung hapunan
at ulam para hindi na bumili sa kainan.
Yung isa siguro kakain na lang ng biskwit at tubig.
Sa sampu sigurong manggagawa ng Kentex
siyam yung hindi na magbebreaktime para magmeryenda.
Sayang ang bawat minutong titigil sa paggawa ng tsinelas,
baka hindi umabot sa quota, baka mawalan ng trabaho bukas.
Sa sampu sigurong manggagawa ng Kentex
dalawa lang ang nagpapansinan sa oras ng trabaho-
yung magkaedad at magkatabi.
Sayang ang bawat minutong tatakas ang atensyon
sa ginagawa, baka mareject ang gawa, baka tuluyan nang tumunganga.
Sa sampu sigurong manggagawa ng Kentex
labing-isa yung hindi pa nakaranas ng fire drill.
Sa sampu sigurong manggagawa ng Kentex
labing-isa yung walang benepisyo.
Sa sampu sigurong manggagawa ng Kentex
labing-isa yung mababa ang sweldo.
Sa sampu sigurong manggagawa ng Kentex
labing-isa yung inaasahan ng pamilya.
Sa sampu sigurong manggagawa ng Kentex
labing-isa ang hindi mo kilala
kaya wala kang pakialam
mabigyan man sila o hindi ng hustisya.
Aug 2, 2015
Aug 2, 2015 at 12:48 PM UTC
walked across the dunes
to the light house to
clear my thoughts.
the windsailors were
riding the sky,
my son calls them the teabag people.
but to me they are like those seed pods that coast upon the
wind in search of something
beyond.
the grass soughs and if you sit
quietly enough,
you can hear the hungry cry of
the little tern chicks.
hidden in the dunes nearby.
the sand trickles through twining, grasping, tenuous grass roots,
single grains multi-hued,
flow like minature snowboarders down the dunes,
steep slippery slide.
little metallic black ants have the herculean task,
of working this slope for
seeds and other oddments of food.
i watch one stumble,stomp past, sherpa-like, precariously balancing a potato crisp's crumb.
while scaling the acute angle of sliding sand.
the pittering of the sandy ground indicates the presence
of giant skinks, sleek glassine skinned lizards that are at home in the area.
their track patterns, remind me of those old teach yourself
to dance charts seen in black and white films,
you would now find them mostly in antique stores.
the tide is in recess
and the terns are hunting,
mottled little sand *****
in some killer, crazy
game of tig or redrover.
where to lose is to looose!
the windsailor above is surpassed by
the big old seahawk
as he stretches his wings.
it is a comparison of true mastership,
over a poor and gaudy parody.
the hawk with practised disdain, dives,
through the breakers emerging,
with his fish dinner.
as i turn toward home.
i wonder,
was it the fandango the lizards, were trying to master?
Mar 24, 2014
Mar 24, 2014 at 12:32 PM UTC
you were tig
I was tag
bright pink wellies
a duffel bag
the snowball
that I threw
I wonder if
you ever knew
It
was always
you
Sep 8, 2016
Sep 8, 2016 at 7:53 PM UTC
Cant swallow my Tilapia for the girl across the room.
My.soups.gettin cold cause of miss Boom Boom.
Looking to my right penne pasta chicken. Boy my 20/20 vision is takin a lickin.
Not really my style but the seating is what it is Soo...
Tig O Biddys got me in a bind.
Biddys in front and Biddys on the side.
Biddys one mile high and.ten miles wide.
Like dicing.onions
They made me. Shake my head and cry
Mar 2, 2014
Mar 2, 2014 at 12:28 AM UTC
fireplace
With the child she stands by the fireside, consoling tears
fallen branches cannot regrow, save the buds an early blossom
all oblivious to the angel standing behind them, a sword in hand
lifted high, glory brought forth from a babe's cry
the antechamber fills with dread sounds
a gurgling no parent should hear
her heart was not ready.
new shoes
In the cool of rain, small sounds magnified
new shoes: a callus will form in time
it's only mortals meeting in a chamber stiff
old air chokes madly
games played these days are brutal
I will write a letter; the breeze flies.
pile
One atop another, gawky tries finesse, falls flat
pile on pile on pile
a range of mountains called my name
much like a needle in thick plush pile
they never found me
tig is lost of flicks and feats
possible genius reduced to numbers by idle hands.
I don't pretend to know (you), even as you slice up
the last quarters I have left.
Oct 31, 2014
Oct 31, 2014 at 3:36 AM UTC
Am a lass fae Govan
There a wiz born n breid
When a wiz wee a wiz playing tig oan the *****
N a split ma poor wee heid
Fae Glesga tae Fife
Wiz where we went
Tae a flat in Methil
That ma maw goat fur rent
Tae skool a went like
A scaredey cat, a didny know wit ti expect
Second year it the high skool
Wiz a bit eh a pain in the neck
Home eckie wiz the class
A waaaanted it tae be fun
Skool went well n a started wurk
Tull a wiz cooking a bun
Am a mammy eh 3 noo
Bit wit kin a say?
A replaced the telly
Nae mare tumbles in the hay
Ma weans are getting big fast
Aw gawn ti skool their self
But if a dont shake ma *** now
A might get left oan the shelf
Jun 16, 2018
Jun 16, 2018 at 5:51 PM UTC
Tig Coili
Gerry Mulholland sings
I come looking for a job
but I get no offers
just a come on from the ******
on Seventh Avenue
from a table top
on a borrowed guitar while
Johnnie Mullins adds in on
button accordion and harmony
rhyming ****** with Dewars
so soft so sweet whats left
to be done but smile
into this glass of Redbreast.
Sep 28, 2016
Sep 28, 2016 at 9:41 AM UTC
Will the moment comes when we will be together,
arm in arm, embraced as we dance until the morning?
Listening to the songs of the western ocean;
a kiss upon my cheek while on you, my sacred colors adorning.
We embrace and reflect on the first glance of each others' eyes
While the earth below us is illuminated by endless, starry skies.
I never want this moment to end; entwined by land and sea.
I will bless the very day you first glanced at me.
And if the sun fades forever, and our souls become blue,
In this world or in the next, I swear, I will never abandon you.
///
An tig am mionaid nuair a bhios sinn còmhla;
gàirdean air a ghabhail a-steach agus sinn a 'dannsa gu madainn?
Ag èisteachd ri caol a 'chuain an iar;
pòg air mo ghruaidh, fhad 's a tha e ort, mo dhathan naomh a' sgeadachadh.
Bidh sinn a 'gobhail ri agus meòrachadh air a 'chiad sealladh de shùilean a chèile
tha an talamh gu h-ìosal air a shoilleireachadh le speuran gun stad.
Chan eil mi a-riamh ag iarraidh gun tig an ire seo gu crìch, air a cheangle le fearann is muir
Beannaichidh mi an dearbh latha a choimead thu orm an toiseach
Agus ma tha a 'ghrian a' dol fodha gu bràth agus ar n-anaman a' 'fas gorm
Anns an t-saoghal seo no an ath rud, tha mi a 'mionnachadh cha trèig mi thu gu bràth
Jun 14, 2020
Jun 14, 2020 at 8:39 PM UTC