"yolanda" poems
Napatag na ang hindi mapatag ng
Sanlaksang idelohiya't pananampalataya.
Panata ito ng kalawakan. Lilinisi't lilipulin
Yaong hindi umaayon sa itinakdang
Orden ng katutubong balanse ng ulan
At hangin, ng dagat at pagkamulat,
Ng lupa at pagtatangka. Hindi sasapat
Ang libu-libong bangkay na nakahundasay
Sa mga lansanga't simbahan dahil malaon
Nang naagnas na bangkay ang ating
Kamalayan. Malaon nang umahon si
Kamatayan sa anyo ng kasakiman sa
Kayamanan, at tayo bilang mga kalakal
Na nagpapatiwakal sa ngalan ng kaligayahan
Sa anyo ng kasaganaan. Hindi sasapat ang
Mga pagtangis ng mga ama't ina, ng mga
Anak at kapatid, dahil matagal nang
Tumatangis ang Inang unang naghandog ng
Paraiso sa atin. Saan nga ba tayo patungo?
"Tayo'y mga punong matayog ang pangarap,
Ngunit sa lupa'y laging nakaugat..."
Nov 13, 2013
Nov 13, 2013 at 5:43 AM UTC
Mahigit pitumpu't limang porsyento
Niyurak ng matinding alon
Walang awa ang haplos
Ang yapos na nakagigimbal
Kinitil hindi lamang ang buhay
Gayundin ang hanapbuhay.
Ni hindi masisid ang perlas
Na ngayong may takip sa ibabaw
Nabibilang ang lumalangoy
Kaawa-awang gambalain
At hablutin sa laot nang walang muang
Ngunit anong siyang magiging sapit?
Kung sila'y hahayaang hindi nakagapos?
At doon sa lambat ay patitiwarakin.
Tinaguriang "No Build Zone"
Ngunit naroon nakatirik ang bawat pundasyon
Walang opsyon, pagkat ang gobyerno
Kaytagal din nang pag-aksyon.
Mula sa libu-libong tirahan sa Tent City
Sila'y lilisan patungong Bunk House
Transitional Shelter kuno
Hanggang sa malipat
At magkaroon ng panibagong tirahan.
Doon sa Tacloban,
May dalawang daan at apatnapu't anim na tirahan
Bagkus ang nakalilim, apat na libong pamilya naman.
Salamat sa mga NGOs
Sa 9181 na Bunk House
Sa gobyernong dapat na kikilos
Kailan ba sisimulan ang pagbabago?
Walong libong pabahay raw ang ginagawa
167 bilyon ang budget,
Saan nga ba napunta?
Ito ba'y binulsa?
Comprehensive Rehabilitation Plan kung tinagurian
Kay bango ng ngalan
Bagkus umaalingasaw ang baho
Ang kasiraan, ang kawalan ng aksyon
Para sa bawat mamamayan.
Sa dakong Guian, Eastern Samar
Tatlong daang permanenteng pabahay raw
Ngunit ni isang pundasyon ng naturang pabahay
Tila naglaho pa rin ni Yolanda
At walang bakas na pasisimulan.
Sabi ni Pnoy, malinaw raw ang target
Pero hanggang target na mga lang ba?
Kailan ba sisimulan ang tuwid na daan?
Baka naman baku-bako na
Wala man lang pasabi sa kinauukulan.
Kung ang hustisya'y hindi matugunan
Sana ang kalamnan ng bawat biktima'y
Syang agapang mapunan
Kaawa-awa silang naghihikahos.
Ang laki ng tulong ng mga karatig-bansa
Ba't tila walang pakialam?
Kayong mga nasa trono,
Tayuan ang posisyon
At serbisyo'y gawin nang totoo.
Nov 8, 2014
Nov 8, 2014 at 10:44 AM UTC
There once was a black man... Old at heart, he fought verbally and accordingly with bold words, which abbreviated and arbitrated great art! He spoke of activism. Not just racial, and economic racism. He fought against demonic injustices for you, yes, made me see. He stood for principles of non-violence. Acknowledged corrupt government
mileage, European knowledge and college. A philosopher, teacher
and preacher as well as a civil rights leader. When he spoke his words of fire indeed chiseled and inspired. Causing some to conspire and also perspire! Born January 15th 1929 in Atlanta, Georgia. Named in honor of the German protestant Martin Luther. Bachelor of Arts
degree in sociology. Making a mark in doctoral studies, systematic theology. June 5th 1955 This King married Corretta Scott in Heiberger,
Alabama for many to see. Proceeding with four children: Yolanda, Martin Luther the 3rd to be! Dexter Scott and Bernice to increase the peace. Despite the European police, the movements and stressed
protests, the silence, ****** and racial violence. The segregation and interrogations in force, instead of integration of course. Black mishaps, lack of differences in relapse perhaps! Plagiarized and slandered, demised by some of the wise. Accused of communistic ties. Blinded
by others’ eyes and of our world’s twisted lies. Montgomery, Georgia
bus boycott, 1955 was the year. However, forever in disguise, our fear of tears was apparently adhered. From here to near, also all those dear. Mere letters he wrote, from Birmingham jail I quote! From the slums, some of sums, hail and prevail! A creation prevailing into a deriving and thriving nation. Mr. King’s vision of a dream, mission,
opposition, optimism and truism, on our wars, welfare and more. I suppose this sounds honest and fair. Mr. King’s theories and worries in emotionalism, evangelism, humanitarianism, racism and socialism. Nobel Peace Prize won in 1964. Regretfully, you may have heard of this before. Government conspiracies and indecencies. Assassination
and discrimination, allegedly, by James Earl Ray. On April 4th, I
almost choke, because for him, his blood did soak. Some thought this **** was a thrill or forced by will. Others still procrastinate in hate! However, forever Martin Luther King was and still is one of the late greats.
Mar 26, 2012
Mar 26, 2012 at 12:53 PM UTC
Warning and signals;
Are not enough.
For us to suffer less;
And Sleep at night,
At peace.
Your wind blows like a bullet train.
As it passed every town,
It leaves a devastating traced.
Roof's are like crumpled paper in the air.
Trees are like's matches sticks scattered in streets.
We are a country,
Of Hope,
And Happiness.
But in every tryst you visited,
You can't see a smiling face.
Broken Houses and families,
Is all that you can see.
for some of it's members and pieces,
Are still missing,
And not in place.
Bodies lies in streets.
Kids are crying,
Craving for some food to eat,
A place to sleep,
And a shelter for them to take a safe rest.
We will stand after this.
and clean the mess that you've left.
For tomorrow we all know,
That sun will shine in every heart,
Of every FILIPINO people that you've hurt.
Nov 11, 2013
Nov 11, 2013 at 7:35 AM UTC
Most of my relatives are distant,
But some have the ability
To bring me into an elevenses of life,
And one particular person
Is my cousin, Teresa.
I call her Terry for short.
That doesn't change how spectacular she is
To me, though!
Terry and her family traditionally visit my family
To ring in the New Year.
This New Year, just on a ten-minute car ride to a local town,
Terry talked to me about her plans for her birthday,
And her favorite books to read as of lately:
Weedly-Deedly (about a nice dragon)
And PuddleBooks, which include children characters
Such as Yolanda Yells-A-Lot.
A year or two backward,
I wouldn't have taken the topic so seriously
As I am one to easily laugh about anything
Depending on what thoughts are in my mind usually.
However, as long as I don't know fully the plot, the scenes
Of what happens in such fiction as the PuddleBooks series,
I am clueless to the lessons and learnings
I could easily miss.
There should be a warning everywhere
Not to look down on what we think we outgrow
As long as lessons are everywhere
For all ages.
There was also a time,
Many moons ago,
When my aunt had the cousins arranged
Seated on a couch
For a picture or two.
I became irritated and uncomfortable
Being claustrophobically shoulder-squished.
Upset, I curled on the floor and cried
In front of everyone in the room.
The first gesture that Terry offered me
Was a hand to pull me up from the carpet,
Of which I accepted,
Like a ***** toward a penetratingly loving Samaritan.
Before my relatives departed today,
My aunt told me how stellar Terry's memory is
And can be.
My aunt backed her claim strongly
By telling me how Terry remembered a quiet morning
Where she and I were the only ones awake
And I made waffles for her.
You don't have to go to a concert
To make special memories.
You're not required to know all
Or be all
To be recognized.
And my cousin Terry, alive and well,
An interactor for sure,
Doesn't need the sky
To be a soul of sunshine.
Jan 3, 2019
Jan 3, 2019 at 12:56 PM UTC
Amber was an atheist,
she thought the world was dumb as hell.
Britney was a botanist,
who had a fertilizer smell.
Candice was a coroner,
a scary passion for the stiffs.
Diana was a drummer chick,
that knew a few guitar riffs.
Evelyn was evil, man,
all leather suits and chains and whips.
Farrah was a therapist,
got in my brain with swinging hips.
Greta was a gunslinger,
she'd give most anything a shot.
Hannah was a homebody-
shy as hell, but twice as hot.
Iris was an Ivy Leaguer,
thought I was a total fool.
Janice was a juggler,
who liked to play with power tools.
Kimmy taught karate,
who dated me just for the kicks.
Louise was a lyricist,
who wrote about how guys were *****
Marilyn was mostly mean,
she liked to fight and then make up.
Nancy was so negative,
I had no choice but to break up.
Opal was an occultist,
who liked to gossip with the dead.
Paula was a **********
that made me pay to come to bed.
Queenie was inquisitive,
the questions were too much to bear.
Rosie was a recluse
who never shaved or brushed her hair.
Sidney was a sinful sort,
with toys and gadgets 'neath the bed.
Tina was a twisted chick,
with thirteen voices in her head.
Ursula was uber-cool,
always on the latest trends.
Vicky was on Vicodin,
and we all know how that one ends.
Wanda was a wanderer,
that left to join a circus troupe.
Xena the exhibitionist
liked to do it on the stoop.
Yolanda was young and fine,
and nearly cost me everything.
Zoey was a Zombie fan,
she got hot when he would sing.
I'd like to say I've settled down,
but since the alphabet is done,
I'm gonna met an Ann or Anita,
and give it all another run.
Aug 27, 2016
Aug 27, 2016 at 5:19 AM UTC
The Hadid
in weekend
plans this
plane that'll
easily shake
takeoff as
they'll break
the news
and flash
zesty Yolanda
that only
her celebs
were finally
gathered in
the Paparazzi
will trump
West Hollywood.
Jun 21, 2016
Jun 21, 2016 at 10:23 AM UTC
"You're drunk
you
need it." - Lykke Li.
Don't puke
this time,
make it the seed
instead of the giving earth.
The earth pukes in fire,
and that hurts the belly.
Trust me when I say
I'm stupid,
and that I'm staying.
I have been with Heather,
I have been with Carolyn,
I have been with Gnat,
I have been with Yolanda.
I have ****** all of them.
Every single one
has not touched
as fatally
as you
and you have undone
the ropes
inside of me.
The unbound package
is
disaster.
It signals the death of promise.
But it gives in the lighthouse
of love.
I cross the fog,
I trample
the destinations
of rain,
I laugh at thunder.
No storm is greater than
you.
So replace me,
disown me,
hate me.
I love you,
and that will not leave
in the night,
like werewolves
after dawn.
Mar 28, 2012
Mar 28, 2012 at 9:36 PM UTC
Dear Wifey,
I have found a place for us.
A place where we can settle down for good. I have yet to know who you are but I’ve already found a place afar. A place where even Yolanda has no match. A place where a lot of fish is there to catch, people are so nice that you can leave your things outside and no one will make a move to sn@tch, widened roads for y-o-l-o drive just for you to beat our 6th gear and clutch. We will be wearing our long sleeves not because we’re going to attend some party, but because we’re going to plant some crops for us to eat, my dear Honey. You’ve got nothing to worry when it comes to the bill for water and electricity cuz they have clean rivers and fresh cool air so there’ll be no need for efan, phone, or tv but in any case, you deem it necessary, I guess we could get a set, anyway 100-wampipti for a bill monthly is more than enough as what my auntie told me. There’ll be no need for us to avail the internet, we’re just going to share stories with each other to k i l l time. As we all know, ISPs here in the country s u c k s, will simply leech us and make us lose our dime. Anyway, I don’t want to stress myself out, go to their HQ, launch an arson attack, and commit other crimes. Probably I’ll just write a rant or poem about it that will surely chime.
As you can see, I am so in love with the place, can’t think of any problem to face. Ah yeah, wait, maybe dengue cuz at night there are mosquitoes here that are well-fed and raised. Don’t you worry cuz I’m already saving money honey, I must admit that sometimes there’ll be a need for us to go to the city and Mercury cuz I don’t trust The Generic Pharmacy. That just love won’t be enough, and there are things that we need to shop. Sooner or later, whether we like it or not, we’ll realize that there are things that these hands can’t make or provide, for example, your gown—like, wth? I want you to be the most beautiful bride. I don’t want you to wear a torn dress as we face our fam and magsisi-uwian na pagka-kain na mga guest!
While writing this line, I’m giving my cold stare to a white butterfly, so I stopped the ink and think, will I be able to make you feel that you have found the right guy?
Dec 27, 2019
Dec 27, 2019 at 11:50 PM UTC
Oh anong hapis ang sinapit ng aming bayan
Mula sa bagyong dito ay dumaan
Kapani-panibago ang tanawin saanman –
Ang bundok sa silangan at sa kanluran
Maging ang natatangi naming simbahan
At iba pang malalayong kabahayan
Ngayon ay tanaw na mula sa aming tahanan
Sapagkat mga puno ay kinalbo niya
Marami rin dito kanyang pinatumba
Mga poste ng kuryente ay kasama
Mga palayan ay naging dagat na
Ilog ay halos umapaw sa kalsada
Kahit malalaking bahay ay giniba
Ng sumpa nitong bagyong nagngangalang Yolanda!
-11/09/2013
(Dumarao)
*due to super typhoon Yolanda that hit our town
Sep 14, 2019
Sep 14, 2019 at 9:53 PM UTC
The calm before Yolanda
I Whisper prayers in preparation
Thoughts of the harm before it’s caused
Homes wrecked and Separation
The effects of a storm
Death, hurt and the suffering of a nation
These things keep me up
Seated.
Rocking .
Wrapped in my countries flag, the only thing that can keep me warm
Evacuated Far from harm but I die when calls to my parents are not received
I wait and listen.
Here the breeze blows a gentle beast
There the gusts roar as nature is unleashed
Miles away but my blood runs silent
I fear for the family I left
Is it right that you are out of my reach?
You stay in touch with my emotions
They run for you
Tears flow free as I receive news
An estimated 1000 lives taken
Devastation in village’s, towns and my city
Making Global news
I remain frozen as calls still don’t get through
But media continues to come
Up rooted trees, fathers without sons,
Houses taken in the wind
Ruins left by the floods
I choke on every breath
As I see faces of motionless mothers down in mud
My eyes close powerless
Still no news from my loved ones
Tell me where my home is now
Tell me where I go
Tell me how to be more than a frightened girl aged fourteen
Who fears to sleep alone and dream to wake to a nightmare:
The passing of Yolanda in the Philippians.
Days go by like years
And a gentle breeze blows through the aftermath
Our flag still stands we still have land
A base to build our hope from
Now life has a new meaning
Move forward as one
Salvage- What is lost, is never forgotten
Aid - What was destroyed, will be rebuilt together
Relief- News of rescues emerge
A wreck overturned
I have faith my family survived in God’s hands
~ Steele Daniel
Nov 27, 2013
Nov 27, 2013 at 5:18 AM UTC
There was a huge obscurity
The oil lamp serves
As the source of everything
While the full moon embraces
The enormity of the entire galaxy.
The engine was brought to halt,
Pacing my feet to the loamy soil
Made me feel
The roughness of the ground
As I hear the prickling of the night bugs.
There was a sweet laughter
From the blameless child
As she welcomed us
With her big smile.
At instant,
My hands moved
And offered the li’l girl
The canned-goods
To which my fingers
Clasps for almost 5-minute drive.
We face the full moon.
And on my left and my right
There exists their silhouette.
They started the conversation,
I know what they’re up to
Even if words were not heard yet.
Right beside him
Was the packed clothes;
He said they’ll give those
To the victims of the Typhoon Yolanda –
That gave me a moment of silence
They don’t have enough,
But their hearts extend
With pure compassion.
He said they’ve ate their pride
That’s why they’ve fixed on
Going to us
And asking a modest help.
The way back home
Became a lengthy trek
I thank God
For I’ve realized
How to value these people
For I’ve felt and learned by heart
How to be benevolent
Towards others.
So this is life,
This may be my life
That may be theirs
But it’s the will of God
That whenever one needs help,
The other will come for a rescue.
(11/16/13 @xirlleelang)
May 27, 2014
May 27, 2014 at 10:14 PM UTC
Enero Diez y Siete, Dos mil Kinse
Kahit may bagyo, tumuloy sa Leyte
Unang tinungo lungsod ng Tacloban
Muling nilipad skull cap pagbukas ng pintuan
Talagang maulan at mahangin
Subalit milyong tao sumalubong parin
Kanyang idinaos Banal na Misa
Kasama ang mga biktima ni Yolanda
Huling tinungo ang pook ng Palo
Nananghalian sa tuluyan ng Arsobispo
Doon din nakasalo mga nasalanta ng Yolanda
Mas malapitang nakisalamuha sa kanya
Mga pinaslang ni Yolly puntod binasbasan
Iba pang kaawa-awa hinandugan ng tirahan
Suot ang dilaw na kapote
Biniyayaang material at ispiritwal ang Leyte.
-01/18/2015
(Dumarao)
*Pope Francis Fever Collection
Sep 21, 2019
Sep 21, 2019 at 9:42 PM UTC
while she tied the bag Henry scooped a fly out of the drum of well water.
a muddy tear stuck to Yolanda’s cheek and the fly kicked it’s wings dry and flew off.
the puppy hadn’t eaten, laid on the steps, trembling so hard his legs kicked softly in the sun.
dressed in mud and a red sweater as we
stepped over him he looked past us through the shade.
Yolanda sat on an upturned bucket with him in her lap after picking him off the step. the other dogs pushed the room around with their noses in the air or around the floor and Henry kept them moving.
she tied the wrist of a rubber glove around his arm. i kicked a bowl of water to get out of her light. my veins started to swell and i wasn’t quite sure what was happening.
while Yolanda worked she moved fast Henry had left the room and i usually don’t look but this time i watched. she moved so slow now as she put the needle in.
she waited and plunged with a small motion and my legs stopped twitching i became drowsy and comfortable against her arm. i only realized what had happened when i saw a tear roll down her cheek and i moved back into the light because she didn’t need it anymore.
Sep 28, 2018
Sep 28, 2018 at 9:57 PM UTC
¡Helena!
La anuncia el blancor de un cisne.
¡Makheda!
La anuncia un pavo real.
¡Ifigenia, Electra, Catalina!
Anúncialas un caballero con un hacha.
¡Ruth, Lía, Enone!
Anúncialas un paje con un lirio.
¡Yolanda!
Anúnciala una paloma.
¡Clorinda, Carolina!
Anúncialas un paje con un ramo de viña.
¡Sylvia!
Anúnciala una corza blanca.
¡Aurora, Isabel!
Anúncialas de pronto
un resplandor que ciega mis ojos.
¿Ella?
(No la anuncian. No llega aún).
290
Your words haunt me,
Like Yolanda's frantic dance
Before it hits the pitiful slumber
Of government help
A doom violently shaking
The rafters and foundations
Uprooting the byzantine roots of sanity
With torrents gushing from the
Oceanic abyss into the shores
Of the mighty gates of inhibition
Your words haunt me,
Like the wrath of the onset of sleep
While reading Machiavelli and
Listening to jazz blasting through my ears
Inside the libraries of drunkenness
Where dreams are unpleasant
And harrowing in the hazing wind
Flailing rocks at the conscious
Mumbling cracks off the wall
Set up by the guards of the crazy
Crazy spiraling imagination
Now the world screams from all sides
Confusing and silencing the weary
Into a deathly ephemeral sobriety
Fleeting steadily to relapse
The giant slowly crumbles
Against the persistent rot of time
The wind sweeping him off his feet
Flying him straight down to eternity
Here I go! He shouts to the heavens
As he shoots down into singularity
Feb 18, 2019
Feb 18, 2019 at 6:04 AM UTC