Woman.

http://earthdriver.bandcamp.com/track/womyns-work

Still. Woman.

Promise

Promise. Magsusulat na ako araw-araw. Ayoko na ng guilt feeling pag iniiwasan ko ang mga salita at kwento sa isip ko. Pakiramdam ko mga tao silang pinapatay ko kapag hindi ko naisusulat. Minumulto nila ako tuwing gabi. Kinakatok nila ang takip ng bintana namin sa kwarto. Palakad-lakad sila tuwing alas-tres ng umaga, naghahanap ng katahimikan sa gilid ng kama namin. Kasalanan ko ang kanilang kamatayan. Sinakal ko sila noong kumain ako kaysa magsulat.

Promise. Isusulat ko na ang kwento ng journalist na... Ay! Nakalimutan ko na. Ayan na nga ba ang sinasabi ko, nakakalimutan ko na kung ano ang kwento ng mga napatay ko. Kung bakit sila nabuhay at kung bakit ko sila nasakal. Pero may mga ilan pa akong naaalala. Tulad ng kwento ng mga kaluluwang nagpapaligsahan sa Loyola Memorial Parks, undas, paramihan sila ng bisita. May special award ang may programa pang inihanda ang mga dalaw. May isang kaluluwang wala na ngang puntod, wala pang dalaw.

Aalalahanin ko ang mga kwentong naisulat ko. Nailibing ko na sila nang buhay pero titiyakin ko kung naputol na ngang talaga ang kanilang paghinga. Katulad ng kwento ng isang batang nagsunog ng mga gamit ng kapatid niya dahil iyon ang paborito ng tatay niya.

Ang dami kong kasalanan sa pagsusulat. Kinuntyaba ko ang tula para pagtakpan ang sigaw ng konsyensya kong bumuhay ng nobela. Oo, isang nobelang di pa nababasa saanman!

Bibigyang buhay kong muli ang mga kwento, ang mga salita. Promise. Promise.

Pasko na naman

Pasko na naman. O kay tulin ng araw.

Gusto ko ang Paskong Pinoy. Noong bata pa ko, palagi kong inaaabangan ang pagsapit nito. Excited akong matulog nang maaga para sa simbang gabi kahit na paidlip-idlip ako sa simbahan. Paborito ko ang lakaran pauwi, sinasabayan ng malamig na simoy ng hangin ang bawat hakbang naming magkakapamilya pabalik sa bahay. Tapos kakain kami ng lugaw o kaya e sopas na tinda ng kapitbahay namin. Susundan namin ito ng tulog. Paggising e magkukuwentuhan kami ng mga nakakatawang karanasan ng nakalipas na simbang gabi. Puno man ng pagka-abala sa paghahanda ng mga regalo, may panahon pa rin para umupo kasama ang buong pamilya sa sala para makipagkuwentuhan. Bago matulog, ihehele ako ng mga letra ng mga libro.

Gusto ko ang karoling. Noong bata pa ko, palagi rin akong nangbubulabog ng mga kapitbahay namin, kumakanta ako nang malakas, habang hinihintay ang kalansing ng barya mula sa bulsa ng mga kapitbahay namin. Ngayon, nakakatuwa pa ring marinig ang paulit-ulit at iba-ibang bersyon ng Ang Pasko ay Sumapit, inawit ayon sa pakakarinig ng mga makukulit.

Gusto ko ang noche buena. May handa o wala, masaya ang pamilya. Sinisimulan ito palagi sa pagsisimba at pagdarasal. At tinatapos sa mainit na pagbati ng Maligayang Pasko.

Gusto ko ang ideya na ang Pasko ay para sa pagmamahal at pagbibigayan. Maraming mga gustong mag-abot ng biyaya. Anumang regalo ay nakakapagpasaya. Higit sa lahat ang presensya. Sana araw-araw ay maging Pasko lagi.

I am awaiting your arrival, happiness

You are trapped in the traffic of the busy countryside
Just taking a nap underneath the moonlight
Awaiting nothing

As I look forward
to the leaping of those handsome little eyelashes
to blink once, twice, to finally reveal
those precious stones that are your eyes.

Dear Bro

I'm too worried about you
I hope the medicines work well
I don't want you to be pained
in any way

sure, I hate your drinking
way late in the night
I hate the way you snub
when all I want is your comfort

But a sickness threatens you
Oh how I'd love to bear the pain and the fear
Dear, oh dear bro,
get well soon.

To write is to experience pain

Inside me is a monster who craves for words and ideas I write. Such a gruesome monster he (or she) is. He (or she) lives somewhere deep in my stomach, ready to punch away all the food I gulped along with my digestive acid. When he stretches his (or her) mouth wide open, it crunches my bones to the deep. The pain travels through my veins up to my brain sending signals that it's time for me to write. It won't stop until I switch open my desktop to write and puke, write and puke, write and puke.

Sometimes, I am extremely disgusted by what I spill on a blank word document.

on Books, fictionally speaking

I just learned today that November is National Book Month. Too late for me to know since it's already the 23rd of November. Had I known about it earlier, I should have done some sort of commemmorating the existence of what for me is man's most wonderful creation-- books.

But I guess late is better than never. So in the spirit of my love for books, I scribbled down my favorite books of all times:

1. A Christmas Carol by Charles Dickens. I read this short novel when I was in grade two. This small book was brought home by Mama one day, I don't remember when. The book still rests on my book shelf up to this day.

2. The Old Man and the Sea by Ernest Hemingway. Again, Mom's prescription. I didn't get the message of the book not until I read it several times during gradeschool. Uh, and I think I lost whatever concept I had conjured out of its pages when I grew up. But the work somehow made its way through my system that I would list Hemingway as one of the best writers I have ever fictionally met.

3. Sense and Sensibility by Jane Austen. For all its sense and sensibility.

4. My Antonia by Willa Cather. I thought of naming my female child after the main character in this book.

5. A Tale of Two Cities by Charles Dickens. For all its vivid and ironic imageries.

6. Oliver Twist by Charles Dickens. Again, dramatic.

7. Chicken Soup for the Writer's Soul. This book was a gift from a friend who knows my passion and love for writing. When are we having the Chicken Soup for the Readers' Soul?

8. Vagina Monologue by Eve Ensler and Castel of Crossed Destinies by Italo Calvino. Ma'am Amy's prescription when I was at the crossroad of my college life.

9. To Kill a Mockingbird by Harper Lee. I read it several times. It's definitely something recommended for everyone.

10. Jules Verne's series. Books Mom brought home for me to while away the hour after school.

I'll add more when titles creep on my head in a later time.

Happy National Book Month!