Poetry brought to you by global warming

Kahit sumuko ang ulap,
At maglaho ang langit
Basta nandiyan ka,
Dadaloy ako sa iyong walang pag-aalala.

Kahit saglit lang
Kahit sa isang kisap lang ng mata
Kahit walang pangakong makikita ka
Araw araw kitang tatagpuin

Para mapaso ako.

At maglaho para maging ulap,
para maging ulan,
para bumalik sa buhangin,

Mahawakan ka lang.
Madampian ka lang.
Makilala ka lang.
Makita ka lang.
Marinig ka lang.

Nauubos akong dumadami.

 

Amenimo Makezu (Unbeaten by Rain)

Heard this from a poetry reading session at work, earlier this year. A colleague, a Japanese national, read this to us in her native tongue and provided printed copies of the English translation. I kept the handout in my in-out tray. Every once in a while, on challenging days, I would read the poem and find comfort and inspiration. I am starting to pack my stuff to move to a new home at work. I am not bringing the sheet of paper with me. Because, "Such a person I want to be." Light, uncluttered, open and true. On my desk and on everything else.

Amenimo Makezu (Unbeaten by Rain)
by Kenji Miyazawa

Unbeaten by rain
Unbeaten by wind
Unbowed by the snow and the summer heat
Strong in body

Free from greed
Without any anger
Always serene 

With a handful of brown rice a day
Miso and a small amount of vegetables suffice

Whatever happens 
Consider yourself last, always put others first
Understand from your observation and experience
Never lose sight of these things

In the shadows of the pine groves in the fields
Live modestly under a thatched roof

In the East, if there is a sick child
Go there and take care of him
In the West, if there is an exhausted mother
Go there and relieve her of her burden
In the South, if there is a man near death
Go there and comfort him, tell him “Don’t be afraid”
In the North, if there is an argument and a legal dispute
Go there and persuade them it’s not worth it

In a drought, shed tears 
In a cold summer, carry on 
Even with a sense of loss

Being called a fool 
Being neither praised nor a burden

Such a person I want to be

"Grow old along with me! The best is yet to be..."

Grow old along with me! 
The best is yet to be, 
The last of life, for which the first was made: 
Our times are in His hand 
Who saith "A whole I planned, 
Youth shows but half; trust God: see all, nor be afraid!'' 

I saw these photos in Facebook and they tickled my heart to no end. I have an intense fear of growing old. When I imagine myself all wrinkled and gray, can barely walk, can barely make it to the toilet, I hyperventilate. My husband is the only variable that makes me open to the idea of returning to infant-hood functions in an old woman's body. For him, I think this is a passable and hopeful syndication of the first line of Robert Browning's poem.

"Grow young along with me!"

Are We There Yet?

There are days when it feels like only Alanis will understand.
I love how she sounds tired in these songs.
I can only imagine that she must be exhausted from all the screaming and loathing.
I wish could be brilliant while loathing and screaming too.
But to be honest, I just really want to scream until I am too weak for my feet.
And truly deserving to be free from everything dark and wounding.

Artificial Incrimation

Artificial light
Crawling over artificial homes
With artificial stairs
No one looks for the moon
Anymore.

May Kinuha Sa Akin

Ikaw na hulmahan ng aking pagsinta
Payat, misteryoso, pilyo ang mata
Ikaw na sukatan ng hindi mapayapang harot
Simpatikong hindi sinasadya, makisig na makisig
Kahit walang medyas na suot
Isnabero sa personal, madalas ay hukot
Kaysarap tingnan kapag noo'y nakakunot

Ano itong nababalitang kukunin mo na siya
Binigyan mo raw ng singsing, kumikinang sa kamera
Dinadaluyong ako ng lumbay at galit
Hindi ikaw, hindi ikaw, hindi dapat ikaw
Ang sa pangarap ko ay gigipit.
Kukunin ka na niya, gaya ng iba.

Hindi ko inakala.

Luluhod ka pala, magaalay ng bato sa maputi at makinis na daliri, ano ang kasunod magma-martsa kayo?

Hindi ko inakala.
Hindi talaga.
Nababasag pala.
Ang hulma.
Ng aking pagsinta.

Puwede ba tayong magkita?

Puwede ba tayong magkita?
Kahit saan, basta hindi tayo magkasama na pupunta.
Hinahanap ko kasi ang kulo ng dugo.
Kapag nakikita kong papalapit ka na,
Talaga namang ang puso ko
Dumadagundong ang tibok.
Kung alam mo lang ang aking mga sikreto, tatawanan mo ako sigurado.

Mga tatlong minuto bago ang tagpuan,
Panay na ang kagat ko sa aking labi
Para magmukhang kissable ang aking lips.
Mga limang minuto bago ko dumating
Saka ko pa lang pinakakawalan ang aking nakapusod na buhok
Para maganda ang alon at hulma
Sakto sa iyong pagdating.

Puwede ba tayong magkita?
At hindi natin babanggitin ang kahit anong tungkol sa buhay mag-asawa?
Mga bayarin, mga lulutuin,
Mga bata, mga bakuna, ubo at sipon at
lagnat na pabalik-balik.
Hindi rin sasabihing magastos na tayo masyado sa bawat order ng pagkain.

Puwede ba tayong magkunwari
Na tayo'y hindi sa iisang bahay uuwi?
Nanakawan mo ako ng halik,
Pipilitin kong hindi gumanti.
Sisimplehan mo ako ng akbay at hawak sa baywang (kunwari rin maliit pa yan)
Pipigilan ko ang aking paghinga, aastang hindi ko napansin na tayo'y magkalingkis na pala, at magdarasal na sana huwag kang bumitiw.

Puwede ba?
Kahit isang araw lang at isang gabi.
Nakakapagod ang ngayon
Kahit minsan lang, kahit paminsan-minsan lang
Mamasyal tayo sa dati.
Doon sa panahong ang lahat ay walang kasiguraduhan.
Parang ngayon din, pero ikaw at ako lang.

Parallels

4AM. Cold and rainy break of dawn.
Work just ended, headed home.
On the sidewalk lay a mother and her little boy
Must be less than three years of age, he was naked,
Latched to his mother's breast.
I was cold but not as cold as he could ever be.
She is homeless. They both are.
But together aren't they home and free?

4AM. Cold and rainy break of dawn.
Work just ended, headed home.
To an empty nest.
I wonder if my children are feeling cold,
I rarely see them, they are 6 and 1 year old.
We live in separate homes.
Yet we are homeless. They both are.
As homeless as we could ever be?

4AM. Cold and rainy break of dawn.
Work just ended, headed home.
The poor.
The homeless.
In purest forms and miserable shadows.
United in wrath,
Surrender in parallel scorn.
At 4AM. Cold and rainy break of dawn.


*Inspired by a real scene along Ayala Avenue.