Forgotten poem found

I rummaged through my baul last night and found "3ng," a literary and art folio created by Sid Hildawa+ in 1995. The folio included such big names in Philippine art and literature as Bencab, now National Artist, Doctolero, Butch Payawal Reyes, Hermisanto, Ricky de Ungria, Gemino Abad, Vim Nadera, J. Neil Garcia, Robert Alejandro, Jerome Malic, Lourd de Veyra, et al. and, of course, Alex C. Delos Santos!

My contribution is the first issue of ADS, a one-page newsletter I used to publish back then, when zines were not yet proliferating. I think I am one of those who pioneered on literary zines. I am struck by a poem in English that I wrote and forgot. "Beyond Rangoon" is an impressionist poem after watching the film. This is a rare one since I have stopped writing poetry in English. It is not even included in my first poetry collection Mga Kanta ni Datu Lubay (2003). Just for keeping tab, I am publishing it here again:

BEYOND RANGOON

Scene: Burmese refugees cross

the river border to Thailand

No way to bid goodbye now.

Death is the river of peace

That claims husbands and friends

Not spared from brother's bullets.

Not only hearts are wounded,

But the land.

She cannot take so much

Of the blood of her sons.

Guns aren't the best tools

For tilling; fear not the best seed.

She could only yield clenched fists

And flags of anger, red to the grain.

Even words can bend rifles:

Fathers can teach soldiers

Not to kill their brothers.

Freedom is a broken bridge away.

No use looking back.

There is victory in fleeing

A country where birds

Know only the chill of cages.

Macrame

Yesterday, I got a surprise SMS from Laurence Tapican, a young poetry enthusiast (and I suspect he writes poetry, too) from Aklan. He requested for a copy of my poem "Macrame," which was published in Homelife in 2001, and won second place in the annual poetry competition initiated by its literary editor Leo Deriada. Laurence said he has been wanting to read it since he was in first year high school, and now he is a college sophomore. Today is Laurence's birthday, and I want to give this gift to him (not a very happy poem, though). I admire Laurence's zeal for poetry, and I wish there were more young people like him interested in poetry.

Macrame

There is no sadder art:

I make each knot

As though a sorrowful mystery

Recited on Holy Week:

A beadless rosary rolled

Between my fingers

Blistered and pained

Like remembrances of false loops

And entanglements.

How am I to weave

This twine of strength

To decorate my bare walls?

I think of many patterns,

But when knotted

They make a thousand little nooses

To hold the necks of my desires.

This art of tying is a grave thing.

It shortens the string.

When I reach the end of my rope,

I make one final knot

And I am ready to

Hang.

Vaun, 8

This is the companion piece to "Vaun, 21", which I posted two days ago. This was published in MGA KANTA NI DATU LUBAY, 2003.

You asked me what circumcision was,

And I told you the doctor cuts the foreskin.

You frowned and said it hurts,

And looked at me, waiting for confirmation.

Of course, it hurts. It's painful

Like all manner of cutting.

It was painful for a tree when you cut

Its branches with that sword you fashioned

Out of bamboo sticks.

It was the pain you felt when you cut your finger

With Nanay's kitchen knife, trying to sharpen

The tip of an arrown with which to shoot

Lola's santol. You cried, didn't you?

Though not exactly the same way I cried

Looking at Tatay on his deathbed

That first morning of May.

You looked at me, wondering.

Because it was painful too.

Something was being cut, being lost.

But that pain we could bear.

And you asked me why boys needed

To be circumcised. I don't know.

I did not ask Tatay when he took me

To the hospital for this ritual men imposed

Upon themselves. I am sure he wouldn't hve

Known the answer. They say it is for us

To stay clean, though it's only the tip of us

That's trimmed. (I don't really believe this,

Because once we expose our heads, the more

We become impure.)

They say it makes us a man. Maybe

It is for boys to feel the pain of becoming men.

So when time comes when we lose our fathers,

We could bear the pain.

It is like sticking up our necks, all right.

Now that Tatay's gone,

You are not only my brother,

But also my son.

Vaun, 21

Wara run ikaw it mga pamangkot

Tungud naubos mo run ka pakut

Ang mga sabat sa imong hunahuna.

Sa imong pagsulud sa departure area

Daw may naghapon nga kaluya,

Angay kang nagaisarahanun nga maya.

Malupad ikaw nga dara gid lang

Ang mga hopya nga bilin ni Nanay,

Kag ang kaugan kang mga tinaga

Kang amun pagpalangga.

Ayhan kon sarang lang ibaruron

Namun sa imong maleta

Ang mga hakus kag haruk

Nga nagkulang sa imong paghamtung

Agud ipabatyag kanimo

Nga ang atun nga pagburugto

Indi makilala sa atun dugo,

Kundi sa atun pag-irimaway

Sa nagarinapta nga balay:

Si Neneng mo sa California,

Si Cheche rugto sa Florida,

Si Inday rugto sa Malaysia,

Si Nenet sa Saudi Arabia.

Ayhan rugto sa Amerika

Makita mo ang kanimo gin-aman,

Hay rugto man nagahulat si Nanay

Nga nagatipon kang panimalay

Paagi sa cellphone, Forex

Kag balikbayan box,

Facebook, email kag text.

Mangin lubos ang pag-iririmaw

Sa atun pagbulag kadya nga adlaw.

Andut nagahibi ako kon maglantaw kang “Wowowee”

Ang gwapo-gwapo mo talaga Willie!

Singgit kang mal-am nga ungab,
Puti ang buhok sa tinuig nga panabon
Kang utang kag baraydan.
Ginbaligya na ang anang kaserola
Agud makapila kag makapasadya
Sa nagairigma nga may sarang
Magbutang kang bugas kag sardinas
Sa andang mga pinggan nga pingas.

Ay, pa-kiss naman Kuya Willie!

Pangabay ni misis nga bungisngis,
Nagaibok-ibok sa anang katambuk,
Nagaralabaw pa ang bulbol sa iruk.
Siyam ang andang kabataan,
Sara lang nakalapak sa eskwelahan
Kag ang iban mga klasmit na
Sa tambayan kag tong-itan.
Si mister nagapamasada lang
Pero indi bale, pabugal na pa
Basta kuno iririmaw sanda
Sa hirap at ginhawa.

Maraming salamat po Kuya Willie!

Matagsing ang limug kang bata
Sa anang kakunyag, hay may sanglibo
Tana nga manggad, para sa anang
Pagtambling kag pasikad-sikad,
Pagtindug sa anang mga palad.
Wara tana nagaeskwela
Hay ilo molo-molo sa pamilya
Gani sa una gid nga pamangkot:
“Kung kaldero ay pot,
Ano naman ang erpat?”
Wara na masabat, nagngisi-ngisi
Dara pangalot kang alap-apun
Na nga lubut.

Ang nakasabat nagatiyabaw,
Ang tanan nagahinugyaw
Nga daw mga kalag
Sa TV namun nga malus-aw,
Kag ako tana nagahiribiun
Samtang pirit nga nagakadlaw.

My new book

My latest book UGSAD KANG KINARAY-A (The Rise of Kinaray-a) will be off the press next month. It shall be my second entirely Kinaray-a book, after AGI, AGI MAY PUTAY SA DAHI. This is part of my Kinaray-a for the Karay-a book project, because I believe that for the Karay-a to show his/her emancipation from colonial consciousness he/she must seek and produce knowledge in his/her native tongue.

The cover shows me reciting poetry during the Antique Arts Festival 1999 in Casa Madrangca. Thanks to Hermie Beltran for this beautiful shot, capturing the full moon screened by blossoming madre de cacao trees. And see me a hundred pounds ago. I had reservations about using this picture for the cover (True!), but the portrait of a young poet howling to the full moon his poems is such a romantic and apt metaphor to the struggle of Kinaray-a literature. So, to hell with modesty.

UGSAD KANG KINARAY-A is the Kinaray-a and expanded version of THE RISE OF KINARAY-A published in 2003. The book will be available for orders online at www.bookoto.com. Orders within the Philippines may be made through email at datulubay@yahoo.com.

Gugma sa bath house

Ah Loong: How long do you think does it take to fall in love?
Orked: A minute. How long did it take you to fall in love with me?
Ah Loong: Much less than that.

Ah Loong kag Orked, sa “Sepet”, sangka pelikula nga Malay

Sangka misuk lang

Naluyag ako sa imo haron

Nga nagapatupung

Sa dingding nga nainas run

Sa bag-id kang ginatos

ka mga ginamingaw nga likod.

Sangka kuhit lang

Ang akun panit nagsirit

Nga magdukut sa imo panit;

Ang atun mga tudlo

Nanultol sa dulum,

Lamang nga magharkanay

Ang atun mga kibul sa palad.

Sangka tikang

Paagto sa makitid nga langit

Kang atun paghingalit,

Sangka tukis

kang tualya nga nagaputos

Kang atun mga kalag,

Bisan rugya lang

Kon makahigugma kita,

Bisan kulang sa tinion.

Isipun run lang natun

Kar-on, paghalin rugya

Kon pira ka tikang

Ang masunod nga gugma.

Sa pagkaluya, kaluya.