Bisperas ti nangisit a Kristo
inton bigat, ti Viernes
dagiti sakasaka a kas kaniak:
dagiti mamati kadagiti tagiruot
dagiti agpannuray adu nga anting-anting
manipud iti susmariakusep
sansanantek agingga iti panangkurus
iti muging iti mamitlo
a sukal kadagiti demonio
iti man Honolulu wenno
iti tangatang dagiti abusado
a no agtabbaaw awanan modo.
Masaksiak ti sala agurgurigor
a padpadek nga iti aspaltado
a dalan iti Plaza Miranda agsurnad
ar-arimpadek nga agur-uray
panangiburay ti padi iti signos
dagiti nangisit a rebultot' nangisit a dios.
Agur-uray sangapulo a dalan
a pagrikosan tantanamitim
a rangtay ribo nga ir-iroken
a milagro ti agbusi a balikas:
baldado mabannog a gurgurong
kas iti bibineg ti utek
ngem ti Jesus Nasareno
kadagiti ar-araraw agidulin
nga agisakibot ladladingit!
Adda buteng iti alintatao
ti nagkuna a buyogan
ti panagrarek ti karabukob
tapno dagiti plema ket agbugsot.
Indeppelkot' barukong ni ayat
iti barbangisit a ramay ti saka
ti nakamansayag a naplakda a Dios
ket amin a lagip iti pannubbot
ket ti konsierto dagiti birkog.
A, ta adu a panagtestimonia.
A, ta adu a panangipapan.
A, ta adu a promesa ti pamilawan
tapno kadagiti maitupra katay
ket ti halabira ti agpaspasanaang.
Adda ringgor kadagiti tambor
kas ti panaguyek no panawen lam-ek
kas ita ngem ti temperatura dagiti daniw
ket kas iti agkumbumbulsion a karro
ti natay a dios dagiti mangnamnama
iti nalinay nga innapuy
ti makabang-ar rusok a digo ti ipon
wenno ti mabatobalani a sabong
ti alukon. Awan dagitoy kadagiti kaliehon
ti Quiapo a pagilian ti nangisit a dios.
A Solver Agcaoili
Quiapo, Manila
Showing posts with label poems. Show all posts
Showing posts with label poems. Show all posts
A Poem Insisting to be Written
This is a difficult poem that insists itself
to be written. You think of the manner
of calisthenic attack as you walk in circles,
one at a time, with another reluctant
poet who thinks about his private God
in the syllables of sin. I do not, of course,
believe in the mortality of words
nor in the finiteness of verses
and so I say, these are all the same:
the poet in his manner of skewed
seeing of the world, the witty rebel
in his skewed seeing of the word,
the prophet in his skewed seeing
of the world worded. And so I tell him,
this reluctant poet who does not trust
paradoxes nor the back gray of light
in darkness: they are all the same,
these, the meanings playing a pun
on language, seeing how the eye
sees itself with all these ruses,
one tricky phrase at a time
until the whole thing becomes
a stanza of our grief. Poets are lonely
people, I offer, saying this to him
to console even as I say the same thing
to myself. But they are most happy,
too, in their loneliness. We walk
another round in one inner circle
of our courage or creative rage
or whatever that you call
these feelings we have against
all that oppresses like verses
unable to identify themselves
if they are stanzas of pretense.
It is night, it is the Wednesday
with no sense, the flood lights
bathing our evening steps
to make the first move
and another first move
to think about what we want
whether to write a first poem
or resist writing one while all along
we have known the poetry of injustice
in this land where we have our
dreams deferred, dispersed.
A Solver Agcaoili
Manoa/Oct 28, 2009
Our Streets Cry Out
MANILA, Philippines -- Religious groups and leftwing militants on Monday held a rally for the third day running in support of whistle-blower Rodolfo Noel “Jun” Lozada Jr., as other groups warned of a bigger protest on Friday to demand the resignation of President Gloria Macapagal-Arroyo. Inquirer, Feb. 12/08
It is an old covenant story.
It was the prophet's threat
to the ruler who beads the rosary,
beg all to the archangels, even
worships the wooden idols
by touching their feet, light
and loving. Is there a pre-
meditation in all this,
the gesture of Fridays,
whether first or last?
There is excess in the promise
and she breaks, he breaks,
they break every word.
In the end, the utterance
of power becomes liquid
spills onto the ground,
past the sentries
past the secure gates
of palaces by the reeking river
the palaces of clerics
friars, robbers, some honorable men
some cheats, men and women
who go beyond what goodness is.
The dark liquid gets into the street
touches our rage, heat upon heat
and we explode, volcano like
and the dark days become years
and in an instant, the crying out
comes to a lifetime of mercy
grief, relief. Stone upon stone,
as in street upon street,
we demand in its fullness
the glory of our gifts.
We are a people too,
and this is what we seek.
The banners will fly
as the posters, and our legs
walk to trample upon
the beginnings of barbed wires.
We had done it.
And today we will do it.
A Solver Agcaoili
Hon, HI
Feb 11/08
as the
It is an old covenant story.
It was the prophet's threat
to the ruler who beads the rosary,
beg all to the archangels, even
worships the wooden idols
by touching their feet, light
and loving. Is there a pre-
meditation in all this,
the gesture of Fridays,
whether first or last?
There is excess in the promise
and she breaks, he breaks,
they break every word.
In the end, the utterance
of power becomes liquid
spills onto the ground,
past the sentries
past the secure gates
of palaces by the reeking river
the palaces of clerics
friars, robbers, some honorable men
some cheats, men and women
who go beyond what goodness is.
The dark liquid gets into the street
touches our rage, heat upon heat
and we explode, volcano like
and the dark days become years
and in an instant, the crying out
comes to a lifetime of mercy
grief, relief. Stone upon stone,
as in street upon street,
we demand in its fullness
the glory of our gifts.
We are a people too,
and this is what we seek.
The banners will fly
as the posters, and our legs
walk to trample upon
the beginnings of barbed wires.
We had done it.
And today we will do it.
A Solver Agcaoili
Hon, HI
Feb 11/08
as the
At the hour of the nation's death
MANILA, Philippines -- With the country gripped by another scandal, a Church-based group on Monday called on the Christian faithful to pray for the truth to be known and to say their prayers at the Divine Mercy hour -- every day at 3 p.m., the hour of Christ’s death. Inquirer, Feb. 12/08
It is the mystique in the hour, at the third
of his merciless death, this savior of a land
oppressed. They tell us once more,
and again and again: to keep the prayer,
keep the preying. Gripped we all are
and the show begins.
Or we repeat the same story
told a long time ago
when popes ruled over our pauper's soul
and we were drowned alive with tears
of our sorrow for having stood by
for having watched enraptured
by it all: the procession of thieves
whose sacred and golden cloaks
we gave, give, keep giving.
Include their posture
include their pretensions
to thrones we never offered
for them to sit on
and decree deaths upon us all.
So now we kneel once more
to the god gone cold. We did not do
enough to warm him, this god
in our song, and our throats croak
with the lies we feed ourselves with
believing that salvation is in self-deception.
We do it one more time, and in the future
we will do it again until we are numbed
until we are too weak to protest
utter something to resist
not even to deploy
what forgiveness can offer.
At three o'clock, when the son of god
is declared dead, the nation bleeds.
It is the same hour
of our dear nation's mortal death.
A Solver Agcaoili
Hon, HI
Feb 11/08
It is the mystique in the hour, at the third
of his merciless death, this savior of a land
oppressed. They tell us once more,
and again and again: to keep the prayer,
keep the preying. Gripped we all are
and the show begins.
Or we repeat the same story
told a long time ago
when popes ruled over our pauper's soul
and we were drowned alive with tears
of our sorrow for having stood by
for having watched enraptured
by it all: the procession of thieves
whose sacred and golden cloaks
we gave, give, keep giving.
Include their posture
include their pretensions
to thrones we never offered
for them to sit on
and decree deaths upon us all.
So now we kneel once more
to the god gone cold. We did not do
enough to warm him, this god
in our song, and our throats croak
with the lies we feed ourselves with
believing that salvation is in self-deception.
We do it one more time, and in the future
we will do it again until we are numbed
until we are too weak to protest
utter something to resist
not even to deploy
what forgiveness can offer.
At three o'clock, when the son of god
is declared dead, the nation bleeds.
It is the same hour
of our dear nation's mortal death.
A Solver Agcaoili
Hon, HI
Feb 11/08
Cocido Para Cena
MANILA, Philippines -- We’ve heard that President Macapagal-Arroyo and her family like to feast on cocido on Sundays. They like to think of their family as one of the last bastions of Castilian heritage, exponents of old-world urbanidad. Inquirer, Feb. 10/08
It is imagination in its ruthless
form, image and the actor
like the sinner and his sin.
The sin is multiple, collective
even. You wash your hand
with holy water, holy oil
and holy goddamn shit
to hide what history has not shown.
So far. Down the road, Sundays
oblige us to sit down, partake
of the meal that means one thing:
the sorrow of our people,
their backs breaking
their souls breaking
their hearts in peril
as is their last song wild with the wind
and then the thunder comes along
as you swallow that last morsel
of that ultima cena you have put
together to celebrate centuries
of oppression against all of us
we who do not know what sin is
because, simply, you have taken
our hearts, there, there, on your table
to partake with the cocido of your liking
the one you deal with for effect
as landlords had done for decades
years until your kingdom come.
On Sundays of obligation,
we offer our back
we offer our soul
we offer our dream.
We wash away our tear
with the purity of regret
for not having waged a war
against your kind long ago.
We believed in the heaven
that is yet to come, and our prayers
led us astray, to all places except
to the table with food
to our family with our happiness
to our children with our gifts.
Instead, we gave poison
to ourselves, took all we can take
taking suffering for its own sake
and here you are, dining well
on each Sunday that we go famished
with our Sunday faith.
A Solver Agcaoili
Hon, HI
Feb 10/08
It is imagination in its ruthless
form, image and the actor
like the sinner and his sin.
The sin is multiple, collective
even. You wash your hand
with holy water, holy oil
and holy goddamn shit
to hide what history has not shown.
So far. Down the road, Sundays
oblige us to sit down, partake
of the meal that means one thing:
the sorrow of our people,
their backs breaking
their souls breaking
their hearts in peril
as is their last song wild with the wind
and then the thunder comes along
as you swallow that last morsel
of that ultima cena you have put
together to celebrate centuries
of oppression against all of us
we who do not know what sin is
because, simply, you have taken
our hearts, there, there, on your table
to partake with the cocido of your liking
the one you deal with for effect
as landlords had done for decades
years until your kingdom come.
On Sundays of obligation,
we offer our back
we offer our soul
we offer our dream.
We wash away our tear
with the purity of regret
for not having waged a war
against your kind long ago.
We believed in the heaven
that is yet to come, and our prayers
led us astray, to all places except
to the table with food
to our family with our happiness
to our children with our gifts.
Instead, we gave poison
to ourselves, took all we can take
taking suffering for its own sake
and here you are, dining well
on each Sunday that we go famished
with our Sunday faith.
A Solver Agcaoili
Hon, HI
Feb 10/08
Unraveling
MANILA, Philippines -- The Makati Business Club (MBC) on Thursday said the revelations of Rodolfo Noel Lozada Jr. about the controversial national broadband network (NBN) contract “may mark the beginning of the end for the regime” of President Gloria Macapagal-Arroyo. Inquirer, 2-07/07
This is bad poetry, this unlyrical sense
of what is yet to come in the birthland
of our woes. We count the years and centuries
and the distinction in them is that
they are all the same: presidents dying
on us without asking forgiveness
presidents pardoned by their own kind
presidents cheating us of our mind
making us believe that all is well
in the homefront of women vending sex
in Tokyo, of teachers becoming filipina
of Brits and Singaporean and the handywomen
of Hongkong. Put in the nurse of America,
my America that declared democracy
in Baghdad as in my country
and here we all are, spectators
of charades and more so that comes
around to torture us. It won't matter now,
it seems, even as the dollar of our redemption
tumbles down and would make our leaving
a joke. For here, even the very sweat
we sell are for the kings and queens
and their princesses and princes,
children of loam and clay
children that grew out of deceit
of thieving parents and kins
because (a) their mother is president
(b) their father is husband to a president
(c) their uncle is a lawmaker
(d) their neighbors are congressmen
(e) their distant relatives are mayor
(f) their godchildren are their puppets
(g) their godmothers and godfathers
are long dead. But here they are:
the lord of all the flies of the land
the mistress of all the roaches of cupboards
flies and mistress being the same
and roaches and lords no different.
So, the musical chair begins.
You stay here, the largesse is here.
Forgot the priest who does Onan
to cleanse himself of his sins
or lighten the load off his confessional self.
He cannot take, not anymore,
these giving away of many pater nosters
the equally many hail marys
and the endless glory bes. These are
there to keep us away from harm,
from this evil that has befallen us
when we began to believe in the prayers
of presidents. When is it that we stopped
praying, we cannot tell. We have not stopped
even when our prayer preys upon us.
A Solver Agcaoili
Hon, HI Feb 7/08
This is bad poetry, this unlyrical sense
of what is yet to come in the birthland
of our woes. We count the years and centuries
and the distinction in them is that
they are all the same: presidents dying
on us without asking forgiveness
presidents pardoned by their own kind
presidents cheating us of our mind
making us believe that all is well
in the homefront of women vending sex
in Tokyo, of teachers becoming filipina
of Brits and Singaporean and the handywomen
of Hongkong. Put in the nurse of America,
my America that declared democracy
in Baghdad as in my country
and here we all are, spectators
of charades and more so that comes
around to torture us. It won't matter now,
it seems, even as the dollar of our redemption
tumbles down and would make our leaving
a joke. For here, even the very sweat
we sell are for the kings and queens
and their princesses and princes,
children of loam and clay
children that grew out of deceit
of thieving parents and kins
because (a) their mother is president
(b) their father is husband to a president
(c) their uncle is a lawmaker
(d) their neighbors are congressmen
(e) their distant relatives are mayor
(f) their godchildren are their puppets
(g) their godmothers and godfathers
are long dead. But here they are:
the lord of all the flies of the land
the mistress of all the roaches of cupboards
flies and mistress being the same
and roaches and lords no different.
So, the musical chair begins.
You stay here, the largesse is here.
Forgot the priest who does Onan
to cleanse himself of his sins
or lighten the load off his confessional self.
He cannot take, not anymore,
these giving away of many pater nosters
the equally many hail marys
and the endless glory bes. These are
there to keep us away from harm,
from this evil that has befallen us
when we began to believe in the prayers
of presidents. When is it that we stopped
praying, we cannot tell. We have not stopped
even when our prayer preys upon us.
A Solver Agcaoili
Hon, HI Feb 7/08
A Republic of Grief
MANILA, Philippines -- An overseas workers welfare group Tuesday appealed to the government to work for the immediate repatriation of at least 111 Filipino workers in Jeddah, Saudi Arabia, many of them camped in tents under a city flyover because they were duped by illegal recruiters. Inquirer, Feb. 25/08
The numbers are testaments in stone,
desert stone, desolation, desire.
They could be marble slabs
from the cold nights we counted
out of the screeching of cars.
The slabs cover our tombs
while we are alive under
this monster of a walkway
where people can go
where they should
while here we are in this tent
city of our exile. We have
no destiny nor destination
and count the ungodly hours
as soon as morning comes alive
and the fierce light of day bathes
us with some warmth, fanciful and tentative,
in this cold bed, sand on our back
dust on our nostrils, and we breathe
with the rhythm of rain remembered
back home, the fields pregnant
with rice plants, their stalks heavy
with the gold of grains gleaming
and gleaming so, with the promise
of the gaming granary in abundance,
the pile of sacks dreaming of meals
for children shrieking with delight.
Here, two children in these tents
live off the weariness in our hearts.
Could they ask for milk
when we are not from these places
and our passports do not tell us
where life is in its earnest
in riyals or some other currencies
we can collect from some people's mercies
to bail us out from this grief that kills us?
There are one hundred eleven of us
and our number is increasing,
o republic of our sorrowful lives.
He sweet talked us into taking
the trip. She had grace and bearing
and the two, their necks heavy
with Jeddah gold ang gaiety
and all the city of oil can offer.
Or so they say, these recruiters
as they duped the only wisdom
we have got, the one fear
in our hearts telling us, Do not go,
Do go, Do not go, Do go.
Coup d'grace, they told us:
we are veterans of wards
of this selling of our skins
and noses and pride.
We are veterans of labor for sale
to the highest bidder, and here,
here, look at us. This diamond
in the index finger, this diamond
in the thumb, this diamond
in the ring finger, this diamond
in the index finger, this one
in the opening of the nose
so we can always see
what we have become.
Our starving fields do not know
the dance of our fingers when touch
granite on our flloors, our house
concrete as concrete is, withstanding
the punishment of wind and storm
and our children's spirits are fatherless
motherless. Even then, choices
have to be made, and here we are,
awaiting tresspass and forgiveness,
or the deportation of our grief
so we no longer can fear anything
except the memory of grief itself.
Diamonds and the dream!
Who can say no?
Who can say no
to filfilling that promise
of decency? For a long time,
I have looked around,
asked the heavens,
and I never found one.
So we are all stuck up here,
one hundred eleven of us.
We could have been praying
in our homeland's mossy shrines.
In the meantime, we try
to repatriate the remains
of our dizzying hopes.
We assume, of course,
that our republic is never broke
so it can pay for the cheap coffin
for these dreams in diaspora
the candle for their ashes
to get to heaven, this one on earth,
this one, mud and soil,
and this sadness.
A Solver Agcaoili
Hon, HI
Feb 5/08
The numbers are testaments in stone,
desert stone, desolation, desire.
They could be marble slabs
from the cold nights we counted
out of the screeching of cars.
The slabs cover our tombs
while we are alive under
this monster of a walkway
where people can go
where they should
while here we are in this tent
city of our exile. We have
no destiny nor destination
and count the ungodly hours
as soon as morning comes alive
and the fierce light of day bathes
us with some warmth, fanciful and tentative,
in this cold bed, sand on our back
dust on our nostrils, and we breathe
with the rhythm of rain remembered
back home, the fields pregnant
with rice plants, their stalks heavy
with the gold of grains gleaming
and gleaming so, with the promise
of the gaming granary in abundance,
the pile of sacks dreaming of meals
for children shrieking with delight.
Here, two children in these tents
live off the weariness in our hearts.
Could they ask for milk
when we are not from these places
and our passports do not tell us
where life is in its earnest
in riyals or some other currencies
we can collect from some people's mercies
to bail us out from this grief that kills us?
There are one hundred eleven of us
and our number is increasing,
o republic of our sorrowful lives.
He sweet talked us into taking
the trip. She had grace and bearing
and the two, their necks heavy
with Jeddah gold ang gaiety
and all the city of oil can offer.
Or so they say, these recruiters
as they duped the only wisdom
we have got, the one fear
in our hearts telling us, Do not go,
Do go, Do not go, Do go.
Coup d'grace, they told us:
we are veterans of wards
of this selling of our skins
and noses and pride.
We are veterans of labor for sale
to the highest bidder, and here,
here, look at us. This diamond
in the index finger, this diamond
in the thumb, this diamond
in the ring finger, this diamond
in the index finger, this one
in the opening of the nose
so we can always see
what we have become.
Our starving fields do not know
the dance of our fingers when touch
granite on our flloors, our house
concrete as concrete is, withstanding
the punishment of wind and storm
and our children's spirits are fatherless
motherless. Even then, choices
have to be made, and here we are,
awaiting tresspass and forgiveness,
or the deportation of our grief
so we no longer can fear anything
except the memory of grief itself.
Diamonds and the dream!
Who can say no?
Who can say no
to filfilling that promise
of decency? For a long time,
I have looked around,
asked the heavens,
and I never found one.
So we are all stuck up here,
one hundred eleven of us.
We could have been praying
in our homeland's mossy shrines.
In the meantime, we try
to repatriate the remains
of our dizzying hopes.
We assume, of course,
that our republic is never broke
so it can pay for the cheap coffin
for these dreams in diaspora
the candle for their ashes
to get to heaven, this one on earth,
this one, mud and soil,
and this sadness.
A Solver Agcaoili
Hon, HI
Feb 5/08
Balasador
MANILA, Philippines -- President Gloria Macapagal-Arroyo’s husband was the supposed “villain” who orchestrated the ouster of Jose de Venecia Jr. as Speaker while the former’s friend, businessman Enrique Razon, distributed money to members of the House of Representatives who ousted him, the former Speaker’s son said Tuesday. Inquirer, Feb. 6/08
Kastoy ti pakasaritaan ti ili,
ti salamangka ti balasador
a babai, ti balasador
a lalaki, isuda amin
ti obispo a namikki
ti presidente a no aglualo agsaning-i
tapno amin a basol mapunas
ti ruangan ti lua agkeppet
di alimbasagen ti darepdep
Innibus ketdi a sinnungguan
iti baraha dagiti pimpiman.
Kas iti daytoy kabaruanan
a drama: panagpadisi
iti nabayagen a kubrador
dagiti bilangbilangen a parabur.
Agsapatada man
iti biblia ti balikas nga addaan diro
kas iti kari iti panagpurpuro
nadangkok ti matellay
a killiing ti tong a nagabay
agarimpait ti kape
a masawsawan iti babawi
iti maregreg nga ostia
iti lukong ti ima, mata, dila.
Makabannog ketdi
ti agbuya iti innipis
dagiti mangiblakblakjak
kadagiti gasat iti konggreso
dagiti rigattayo, aminen
kas iti panagsambuambo
ti barukong iti daytoy maudi
a parang dagiti agsarimbuaya
nga ayat iti ili, umili, ken asawa
anak, presidente, ispiker, senador
komisioner, amin dagitoy
a naengkanto a bulbilitor
a no agsisinnakmal
ket namak pay nga awan mabati
iti bulsatayo sangkamurkat
man laeng a kaasi.
Anansata inkari ti babai
ti panangabaruanan ti ili:
ayat, kunana, kas iti rosas
a no lumabbasit iti hardin ti palasio
ket ti bendision dagiti amin a padi!
Anian ta agparimtumeng a kanayon
kadagiti adu a birken nga immakulada,
kadagiti milagroso nga ina ti pammakawan
iti basol a tawid ti balasador iti baraha
dagiti abuyot, gatad iti gatad
nagan iti isu met laeng a nagan
dua nga anak, kas pagarigan nga itan
ket kabilbileg burat a barahan.
Saan nga agtatakaw dagiti babaknang,
kuna ti lalaki, idi kas ita, ken iti agnanayon.
Di kadi ta ti birtud dagiti gammat nga ima
wenno dagiti rapas kadagiti basbas
ket iti laeng mamirmuraut iti kassaba?
Ngem kitaem ti ngiwngiw nga agdiwig
danganen ti bibig nga agsuitsuitik.
Naynay ti panagurnos
kadagiti kaalyado: ti ari iti reina
ti reina iti asawa a black jack
wenno agjoker no di masiputan
sa dagiti amin a naorasionan a numero
narugit a bulong man wenno nalabaga a puso
wenno diamante a paay-ayo
wenno daytay kasla pala a pal-id
a mangakuy iti lualo a babassit.
Matdatayo nga agsipsiput:
di met masalbar ti unget
ti panagkaribuso iti sumipnget.
A Solver Agcaoili
Hon, HI
Feb 4/08
Kastoy ti pakasaritaan ti ili,
ti salamangka ti balasador
a babai, ti balasador
a lalaki, isuda amin
ti obispo a namikki
ti presidente a no aglualo agsaning-i
tapno amin a basol mapunas
ti ruangan ti lua agkeppet
di alimbasagen ti darepdep
Innibus ketdi a sinnungguan
iti baraha dagiti pimpiman.
Kas iti daytoy kabaruanan
a drama: panagpadisi
iti nabayagen a kubrador
dagiti bilangbilangen a parabur.
Agsapatada man
iti biblia ti balikas nga addaan diro
kas iti kari iti panagpurpuro
nadangkok ti matellay
a killiing ti tong a nagabay
agarimpait ti kape
a masawsawan iti babawi
iti maregreg nga ostia
iti lukong ti ima, mata, dila.
Makabannog ketdi
ti agbuya iti innipis
dagiti mangiblakblakjak
kadagiti gasat iti konggreso
dagiti rigattayo, aminen
kas iti panagsambuambo
ti barukong iti daytoy maudi
a parang dagiti agsarimbuaya
nga ayat iti ili, umili, ken asawa
anak, presidente, ispiker, senador
komisioner, amin dagitoy
a naengkanto a bulbilitor
a no agsisinnakmal
ket namak pay nga awan mabati
iti bulsatayo sangkamurkat
man laeng a kaasi.
Anansata inkari ti babai
ti panangabaruanan ti ili:
ayat, kunana, kas iti rosas
a no lumabbasit iti hardin ti palasio
ket ti bendision dagiti amin a padi!
Anian ta agparimtumeng a kanayon
kadagiti adu a birken nga immakulada,
kadagiti milagroso nga ina ti pammakawan
iti basol a tawid ti balasador iti baraha
dagiti abuyot, gatad iti gatad
nagan iti isu met laeng a nagan
dua nga anak, kas pagarigan nga itan
ket kabilbileg burat a barahan.
Saan nga agtatakaw dagiti babaknang,
kuna ti lalaki, idi kas ita, ken iti agnanayon.
Di kadi ta ti birtud dagiti gammat nga ima
wenno dagiti rapas kadagiti basbas
ket iti laeng mamirmuraut iti kassaba?
Ngem kitaem ti ngiwngiw nga agdiwig
danganen ti bibig nga agsuitsuitik.
Naynay ti panagurnos
kadagiti kaalyado: ti ari iti reina
ti reina iti asawa a black jack
wenno agjoker no di masiputan
sa dagiti amin a naorasionan a numero
narugit a bulong man wenno nalabaga a puso
wenno diamante a paay-ayo
wenno daytay kasla pala a pal-id
a mangakuy iti lualo a babassit.
Matdatayo nga agsipsiput:
di met masalbar ti unget
ti panagkaribuso iti sumipnget.
A Solver Agcaoili
Hon, HI
Feb 4/08
Buridek a Bullilising ti Buridek nga Ubing
0. Boses ti Buridek a Bullilising
Iti salamangka ti bannawag
A nangrugi ti banarbar
A dayyeng ti bullilising a siak.
Iti paparawko ket ti paparaw met
Dagiti adun nga aldaw a yaadayo
Iti natalinaay a taeng kadagiti bantay
Ken law-ang ken kasamsamekan
Sa kadagiti opera coluratura ti waig
Iti labes dagiti minuyongan a kasingin
Ti patag, sa dagiti umok ti ampapayyot
A no agkinni ket mannala a naglapitog.
Amin dagitoy ket nasaksiak,
Siak nga anak ti langit ken angin
Ken pannakigasanggasat kadagiti amian
Wenno abagat, waneswes, panagukom
Dagiti bagyo ken nepnep ken sal-it
Iti barukong, sa iti abaga, sa iti payak.
Buridekak a bullilising a kamaris
Ti agsusukot a bullalayaw iti nalamiis
A tengnga’t aldaw. Ania koma’t aramidek
No di agtayab, daliasaten ti baet
Ti tagainep ken ti nakas-ang a padas?
Iti ere ti panagwaywayas ti isip,
Ti panagpampanurnor ti mata ken regta
Iti iking dagiti patingga ti ragsac.
Isu a sarangtek ti daran ti init, kunak.
Isu a masapul ti naturod a nakem,
Mabuteng iti karit ngem saan iti buteng.
Ket sinarangetko ti darang ti init
Nga impasngay ti agpatnag.
Nasileng kadi dagiti dutdotko?
Nakarintar kadi ti panagtayabko
Kadagiti sanga ti narukbos a kayo?
Masalamaak kadi pay dagiti egges
Kadagiti uma, iti sabong ti sitaw
Nga intukit ti managbendision nga ima?
Kadkaduaendak dagiti bullalayaw:
Agsusukotda kadagiti kimmapas nga ulep
Iti ungto dagiti malinnaaw nga agpatnag
Iti salinong dagiti agbugi a darikmat
Kadagiti sabong ti atis, allagat, anonas,
Sinam-it amin iti pannakautoy panagkayabkab
Iti baet ti rabii ken aldaw a naladaw
Kas iti panagwayas kadagiti tangkal
Ti maysa nga ubing a nangtukma kaniak.
1.0 Boses ti Buridek nga Ubing
Lima ti tawenko ngem palugodandak
Nga agsao iti nalapat: agbuybuyaak
Iti bullalayaw kadagiti kansion ti tumatayab.
Makitak ti maris ti kada uni nga agapon lapayag
Iti nakaub-ubing a riknak.
Kasla gatas dagiti aweng.
Kasla duayya ti pannakigubal
Dagiti payak iti angin ket iti ere, sadiay
Sadiay ti awan patinggana a langit
Sadiay ti amin nga awan, kas iti ibit
Nga adda iti mamador, ti panagkullapit
Ti lata ti gatas ken aminen a naranggas.
Ngem adda man dagiti mahika ti karnabal
Ket ita, iti daytoy nga aldaw ket ti tumatayab,
Ti nasileng ken nalabaga a bullilising iti arpad.
Nakitak ti matana iti tangkal,
Ti nalabaga a maris dagiti mata.
Iti silensio dagiti panaginnallawat iti lengguahe
Nga awanas balikas, nasirpatko
Ti kasungi ti ragsak, ti residente sadiay a liday
Ti testamento mismo ti madagdagullit
A pannakatay. Kitaennak, kuna ti bullilising,
Ti buridek dagiti punganay nga ayat.
Diak masarkedan ti perreng ti tumatayab.
Sumarut iti puso dagiti dagum ti naitangkal
Metten a sagawisiw, ti duayya ti iruruk-at.
2.0 Boses ti Ina ti Buridek nga Ubing
Rabiin, balasangko a buridek.
Nabuyamon ti naitangkal a liday
Ti bullilising a buridek ti pannakapaay.
Nadanonen ti kanito ti panagungar ti sennaay
Tapno gulib ti tangkal itan makeltay.
Ubingka man ngem inkanto maawatan
Iti masungad a pammakadam iti iddam.
Inkanto met agwayas, di kadi,
Kas ti buridek a bullising a tagibi?
Isu nga iti agsipnget intan ita ruk-atan
Ta mairugi’t panagapon ti kaay-ayam.
Isu ket piman birbiroken itan
Ti nakakaasi nga ina ken amanan.
Kas kenka, kas met laeng ubing a buridek
Ti panagbirok iti kappia iti inam.
Iti saklot, sa iti bitegbiteg ti puso,
Ken ti apros ti ina iti arindaraen a kapuyo.
Ruk-atantan ta agawid naggapuan
Ti buridek a bullilising iti sardam.
A Solver Agcaoili
Hon, HI
En 31/08
Iti salamangka ti bannawag
A nangrugi ti banarbar
A dayyeng ti bullilising a siak.
Iti paparawko ket ti paparaw met
Dagiti adun nga aldaw a yaadayo
Iti natalinaay a taeng kadagiti bantay
Ken law-ang ken kasamsamekan
Sa kadagiti opera coluratura ti waig
Iti labes dagiti minuyongan a kasingin
Ti patag, sa dagiti umok ti ampapayyot
A no agkinni ket mannala a naglapitog.
Amin dagitoy ket nasaksiak,
Siak nga anak ti langit ken angin
Ken pannakigasanggasat kadagiti amian
Wenno abagat, waneswes, panagukom
Dagiti bagyo ken nepnep ken sal-it
Iti barukong, sa iti abaga, sa iti payak.
Buridekak a bullilising a kamaris
Ti agsusukot a bullalayaw iti nalamiis
A tengnga’t aldaw. Ania koma’t aramidek
No di agtayab, daliasaten ti baet
Ti tagainep ken ti nakas-ang a padas?
Iti ere ti panagwaywayas ti isip,
Ti panagpampanurnor ti mata ken regta
Iti iking dagiti patingga ti ragsac.
Isu a sarangtek ti daran ti init, kunak.
Isu a masapul ti naturod a nakem,
Mabuteng iti karit ngem saan iti buteng.
Ket sinarangetko ti darang ti init
Nga impasngay ti agpatnag.
Nasileng kadi dagiti dutdotko?
Nakarintar kadi ti panagtayabko
Kadagiti sanga ti narukbos a kayo?
Masalamaak kadi pay dagiti egges
Kadagiti uma, iti sabong ti sitaw
Nga intukit ti managbendision nga ima?
Kadkaduaendak dagiti bullalayaw:
Agsusukotda kadagiti kimmapas nga ulep
Iti ungto dagiti malinnaaw nga agpatnag
Iti salinong dagiti agbugi a darikmat
Kadagiti sabong ti atis, allagat, anonas,
Sinam-it amin iti pannakautoy panagkayabkab
Iti baet ti rabii ken aldaw a naladaw
Kas iti panagwayas kadagiti tangkal
Ti maysa nga ubing a nangtukma kaniak.
1.0 Boses ti Buridek nga Ubing
Lima ti tawenko ngem palugodandak
Nga agsao iti nalapat: agbuybuyaak
Iti bullalayaw kadagiti kansion ti tumatayab.
Makitak ti maris ti kada uni nga agapon lapayag
Iti nakaub-ubing a riknak.
Kasla gatas dagiti aweng.
Kasla duayya ti pannakigubal
Dagiti payak iti angin ket iti ere, sadiay
Sadiay ti awan patinggana a langit
Sadiay ti amin nga awan, kas iti ibit
Nga adda iti mamador, ti panagkullapit
Ti lata ti gatas ken aminen a naranggas.
Ngem adda man dagiti mahika ti karnabal
Ket ita, iti daytoy nga aldaw ket ti tumatayab,
Ti nasileng ken nalabaga a bullilising iti arpad.
Nakitak ti matana iti tangkal,
Ti nalabaga a maris dagiti mata.
Iti silensio dagiti panaginnallawat iti lengguahe
Nga awanas balikas, nasirpatko
Ti kasungi ti ragsak, ti residente sadiay a liday
Ti testamento mismo ti madagdagullit
A pannakatay. Kitaennak, kuna ti bullilising,
Ti buridek dagiti punganay nga ayat.
Diak masarkedan ti perreng ti tumatayab.
Sumarut iti puso dagiti dagum ti naitangkal
Metten a sagawisiw, ti duayya ti iruruk-at.
2.0 Boses ti Ina ti Buridek nga Ubing
Rabiin, balasangko a buridek.
Nabuyamon ti naitangkal a liday
Ti bullilising a buridek ti pannakapaay.
Nadanonen ti kanito ti panagungar ti sennaay
Tapno gulib ti tangkal itan makeltay.
Ubingka man ngem inkanto maawatan
Iti masungad a pammakadam iti iddam.
Inkanto met agwayas, di kadi,
Kas ti buridek a bullising a tagibi?
Isu nga iti agsipnget intan ita ruk-atan
Ta mairugi’t panagapon ti kaay-ayam.
Isu ket piman birbiroken itan
Ti nakakaasi nga ina ken amanan.
Kas kenka, kas met laeng ubing a buridek
Ti panagbirok iti kappia iti inam.
Iti saklot, sa iti bitegbiteg ti puso,
Ken ti apros ti ina iti arindaraen a kapuyo.
Ruk-atantan ta agawid naggapuan
Ti buridek a bullilising iti sardam.
A Solver Agcaoili
Hon, HI
En 31/08
Pannusa
MANILA, Philippines -- Claiming vindication, Joseph Estrada Monday said the country was now suffering because the late Jaime Cardinal Sin did not heed “God’s voice” but instead backed the EDSA II people power revolt, despite a Vatican order to stay away. “God knows how to make punishments also,” the 70-year-old deposed President told the Philippine Daily Inquirer (parent company of INQUIRER.net). “So our country is what it is now because the head of the Church went against God’s will. Our country is not moving forward.” Inquirer, Jan. 22/08
Kasla ketdi agkamata ti utek
ket ti utek aglati kas iti korona
dagiti santo ken santo
a dagiti saka gurong tumeng
din maag-agek. Ania ti kuna
ti narba a sarita ti pangulo?
Nga iti panagikkis ti kalsada
minamauyong panagballa
dagiti paddak? Mano a rabii
a sangalsangalen ti polieto
tapno iti kasta ti kinapudna
agkudaap a sidadata?
Ti Jericho March,
kas pagarigan a sadiay
a sinada dagiti butangero
dagiti riaw pakaasi pananguy-uyot
iti bileg ti linteg iti maam-amitan
a pagilian, ti rabii agulang-ulang
iti tapok rugit kinasuitik
kinalabes dagiti maipapel
wenno ti taeng a maipatakder
manipud iti tinidtid a lasag
ken saldet ken utek
dagiti makipagili a marabutit.
Pannusa ti dios, kuna ti nalaing!
Manangngaasi a mannakabalin
a no mangted iti buteng
ket kadakami a barengbareng!
Asinno a dios ti ipagpagapu
ti pangulo dagiti mannanakaw
ti uloulo dagiti birkog
ti ulbod a no agbalikas
ket kinapudno ti patpatiray-ok?
Wenno lamlamiong kadagiti mabisin
a no agilako iti karbengan
ket balor ti asin? Kas kadagiti mabunag
a kapada iti kada matsa a pabuya
wenno rali a panangipakita
a ti ayat ti artek ket iti padapada
a botelio ti saan nga ania ditan
nga arak no di ket daytoy
makabariwenweng
tapno iti rabii nga adalem
malipatan ti panagarikenken?
Pannusa ti dios, anak ti sal-it!
Ti sao dagiti amin a balangkantis!
Naynay a di insultuen
ti dingnguen a bulbulitoren.
Sumangdo ti ayup
nga iti pitak irubrob.
Tilmonen koma ketdin
dagiti saanen a makaammo
ti umno dagiti katayda a nabangsit.
Wenno isapsapo nga agas piman
ti saraawen a buisit.
A Solver Agcaoili
Hon, HI
Jan 24/08
Kasla ketdi agkamata ti utek
ket ti utek aglati kas iti korona
dagiti santo ken santo
a dagiti saka gurong tumeng
din maag-agek. Ania ti kuna
ti narba a sarita ti pangulo?
Nga iti panagikkis ti kalsada
minamauyong panagballa
dagiti paddak? Mano a rabii
a sangalsangalen ti polieto
tapno iti kasta ti kinapudna
agkudaap a sidadata?
Ti Jericho March,
kas pagarigan a sadiay
a sinada dagiti butangero
dagiti riaw pakaasi pananguy-uyot
iti bileg ti linteg iti maam-amitan
a pagilian, ti rabii agulang-ulang
iti tapok rugit kinasuitik
kinalabes dagiti maipapel
wenno ti taeng a maipatakder
manipud iti tinidtid a lasag
ken saldet ken utek
dagiti makipagili a marabutit.
Pannusa ti dios, kuna ti nalaing!
Manangngaasi a mannakabalin
a no mangted iti buteng
ket kadakami a barengbareng!
Asinno a dios ti ipagpagapu
ti pangulo dagiti mannanakaw
ti uloulo dagiti birkog
ti ulbod a no agbalikas
ket kinapudno ti patpatiray-ok?
Wenno lamlamiong kadagiti mabisin
a no agilako iti karbengan
ket balor ti asin? Kas kadagiti mabunag
a kapada iti kada matsa a pabuya
wenno rali a panangipakita
a ti ayat ti artek ket iti padapada
a botelio ti saan nga ania ditan
nga arak no di ket daytoy
makabariwenweng
tapno iti rabii nga adalem
malipatan ti panagarikenken?
Pannusa ti dios, anak ti sal-it!
Ti sao dagiti amin a balangkantis!
Naynay a di insultuen
ti dingnguen a bulbulitoren.
Sumangdo ti ayup
nga iti pitak irubrob.
Tilmonen koma ketdin
dagiti saanen a makaammo
ti umno dagiti katayda a nabangsit.
Wenno isapsapo nga agas piman
ti saraawen a buisit.
A Solver Agcaoili
Hon, HI
Jan 24/08
Cyrus Belt is Dead
Heaven was missing an angel. We'll never forget you, Baby Cyrus.--Message on cloth banner hung on the site where Cyrus Belt, 23 months, was thrown off 25 feet below H-1 Freeway, Honolulu, Hawai'i, Jan. 17, 2008. Two cars hit him and on the spot he breathed his last.
It is your story that caught us off guard, not your tormentor's
report of demons and other evils. Your death flashed on our
computer alerts, telling us nothing but a traffic jam.
From the pictures we have come to know: wrapped in white
clothing to hide your fear and the fracture of your infant life.
How can it be, our angel, how can it ever be that those
who cause us misery are alive while you who give us
laughter and joy are no longer with us to remind us
that life's opposite is a stone to mark your grave?
We stopped for a while, knowing that we cannot go home,
not yet, until you are taken away to a chamber so cold
you really wished you were dead. Frozen beyond recognition
because your mother did not know how to make of your
dreams of flowers and moons? Or the sun on Waikiki
that perhaps you have not seen in its most beautiful
moment of radiating glow, telling us of hopes beyond
what mothers cannot do, what fathers will never know
what to do? For there, left alone to saunter in alleys
on streets on wandering you could not have done
were the doors were locked or the gates closed
or a guardian kept watch over you as you learn
to walk a mile and then two and then on your own
to life's turmoils. Snapping, a man caught your arm,
perhaps you laughed at him as you looked at his eyes,
a demon in a clown's clothing residing in there
and tickling you so, and tickling you some more.
You responded to his touch, worn man against
your baby skin and his smell you know sometimes
as he sat for you when you were left alone on your own.
And then he brought you to a theatre outside,
the arena of your quick goodbye. First, did he hold
you by your strong legs upside down, on the railings
with the speeding cars below, on 60-65 speed
of angry man hungered by the time of day
or by the light of the dancing sun in these islands?
Second, did he wave your body a bit a he held
you and then you shrieked with laughter
the laughter becoming terror you do not know?
Third, did he let you loose? Fourth, did he throw you off
with force your skull banged the cemented road
this act verily infantile muscle against metal
until your world cracked in half, your soul gone?
How do we say this this regret this sorrow this worry
this pain this tear this misery this nothingness
we all feel for you as you leave us not knowing
what could have become of you child of our days
going wild like wildfires like years shortening to months
such as your life? You could have grown to lead us
to saving ourselves from the perdition that is also us.
Be well, Cyrus, rest in peace, our child.
A Solver Agcaoili
Hon, HI
Jan 17, 2008
It is your story that caught us off guard, not your tormentor's
report of demons and other evils. Your death flashed on our
computer alerts, telling us nothing but a traffic jam.
From the pictures we have come to know: wrapped in white
clothing to hide your fear and the fracture of your infant life.
How can it be, our angel, how can it ever be that those
who cause us misery are alive while you who give us
laughter and joy are no longer with us to remind us
that life's opposite is a stone to mark your grave?
We stopped for a while, knowing that we cannot go home,
not yet, until you are taken away to a chamber so cold
you really wished you were dead. Frozen beyond recognition
because your mother did not know how to make of your
dreams of flowers and moons? Or the sun on Waikiki
that perhaps you have not seen in its most beautiful
moment of radiating glow, telling us of hopes beyond
what mothers cannot do, what fathers will never know
what to do? For there, left alone to saunter in alleys
on streets on wandering you could not have done
were the doors were locked or the gates closed
or a guardian kept watch over you as you learn
to walk a mile and then two and then on your own
to life's turmoils. Snapping, a man caught your arm,
perhaps you laughed at him as you looked at his eyes,
a demon in a clown's clothing residing in there
and tickling you so, and tickling you some more.
You responded to his touch, worn man against
your baby skin and his smell you know sometimes
as he sat for you when you were left alone on your own.
And then he brought you to a theatre outside,
the arena of your quick goodbye. First, did he hold
you by your strong legs upside down, on the railings
with the speeding cars below, on 60-65 speed
of angry man hungered by the time of day
or by the light of the dancing sun in these islands?
Second, did he wave your body a bit a he held
you and then you shrieked with laughter
the laughter becoming terror you do not know?
Third, did he let you loose? Fourth, did he throw you off
with force your skull banged the cemented road
this act verily infantile muscle against metal
until your world cracked in half, your soul gone?
How do we say this this regret this sorrow this worry
this pain this tear this misery this nothingness
we all feel for you as you leave us not knowing
what could have become of you child of our days
going wild like wildfires like years shortening to months
such as your life? You could have grown to lead us
to saving ourselves from the perdition that is also us.
Be well, Cyrus, rest in peace, our child.
A Solver Agcaoili
Hon, HI
Jan 17, 2008
Hacienda Looc Redux, 1
MANILA, Philippines – Romy Cayao, 40, still tills a hectare of land he inherited in Hacienda Puyat in Nasugbu town in Batangas. But he will lose his property and livelihood, along with 600 other farmers, when some 2,400 hectares of agricultural lands are converted into residential-commercial use. They will be moved to a sloping terrain where they could no longer farm, Cayco said. His family will starve and “I don’t know any job except farming,” he said…Another farmer, Mandy Lemita, 43, received an emancipation patent and a certificate of land ownership award (Cloa) from the Department of Agrarian Reform in 1988 for two parcels of land in Hacienda Looc, also in Nasugbu. But his patent and Cloa were canceled in 1995 to give way to an 8,600-ha ecotourism zone. The farmers were offered a disturbance compensation, but the majority of them refused, Lemita said. Thus, the project could not proceed to its second phase. N.C. Calleja, Inquirer, Jan. 24/08
Madi nga agbaliw ti damag. Ti kinalinteg
ket saan nga iti maisaang ti anak ti daga.
Iti Hacienda Looc ket ti danag a siak met
laeng. Mano a tawenen daydi, mano a dekada
a buteng kalpasan ti ipapanaw nga imbati
dagiti nuang, kalding, rekkang, am-amangaw?
Mabalin a ditoy koma ti nakatayan: siak
ken dagiti adalan, dakami a nakikaasi
tapno makiinnadal kadagiti palimed
ti bengkag, ti tudo, ti gurruod, ti sal-it
ken ti kinapimpiman. Tallo a dyip nga adalan
manipud iti maysa a bus nga inupaan.
Dua a bulan a panangisagana kadagiti saludsod
maipapan iti pananglanglangan. Sakbitsakbit
dagiti kuaderno ken ti pasarabo a malak-am:
daing a pusit manipud iti tiendaan ti Marikina
aglaladut a pansit a danum laeng ti kurang
manteka a panggisa iti delata a corn beef
lasona bawang paminta asin a pangbugaw
iti buyot ti bulbullagaw. Ngem karbin ti impasangoda
kadatao. Paltog iti lamisaan. Balikas a nakas-ang.
Selda kadagiti adalan a naipalladaw a kas ullaw
manipud kadagiti agbuybuya a kabalbalayan.
Ruk-atanyo, kinunak, saan a komunista
dagiti nasursuroan nga agsaludsod
dagiti agsuksukisok iti gapu dagiti gapu.
Ruk-utanyo ta kargok ida iti ili.
Saanda a bangkay nga immay ditoy
ket isaldak ti naganko, saanda a bangkay
nga agsubli kadagiti inada kadagiti daniw
ti ili a partuatenda. Ikarik iti nagan ti langit:
saankami nga immay tapno agsiim kadagiti palimed
kontra kadagiti mula kinelleng dingnguen
kontra kadagiti maipultit a putot dagiti gamrud
a salaksak kadagiti sanga a naspak.
Yawidmo dagiti komunista nga adalam.
Kasta ti balikas manipud iti ngudo ti igam.
Wen, dagusek a yadayo kadakayo
dagiti tagainepda maipapan iti pagilian.
Nabayagen daydi ket no dadduman
agtalawen ti lagip kadagiti bibig.
Ngem ita, iti pannakabasa iti damag,
agsubli dagiti punganay ti kinadaksanggasat.
A Solver Agcaoili
Hon, HI
Jan 23/08
(Note: More than 10 years ago, I brought my whole class at the University of the Philippines to Hacienda Looc in Nasugbu, Batangas, for a field work on Philippine Studies. We planned to spend several days in the Hacienda but that tragedy happened. Now, the Hacienda is in the news.)
Madi nga agbaliw ti damag. Ti kinalinteg
ket saan nga iti maisaang ti anak ti daga.
Iti Hacienda Looc ket ti danag a siak met
laeng. Mano a tawenen daydi, mano a dekada
a buteng kalpasan ti ipapanaw nga imbati
dagiti nuang, kalding, rekkang, am-amangaw?
Mabalin a ditoy koma ti nakatayan: siak
ken dagiti adalan, dakami a nakikaasi
tapno makiinnadal kadagiti palimed
ti bengkag, ti tudo, ti gurruod, ti sal-it
ken ti kinapimpiman. Tallo a dyip nga adalan
manipud iti maysa a bus nga inupaan.
Dua a bulan a panangisagana kadagiti saludsod
maipapan iti pananglanglangan. Sakbitsakbit
dagiti kuaderno ken ti pasarabo a malak-am:
daing a pusit manipud iti tiendaan ti Marikina
aglaladut a pansit a danum laeng ti kurang
manteka a panggisa iti delata a corn beef
lasona bawang paminta asin a pangbugaw
iti buyot ti bulbullagaw. Ngem karbin ti impasangoda
kadatao. Paltog iti lamisaan. Balikas a nakas-ang.
Selda kadagiti adalan a naipalladaw a kas ullaw
manipud kadagiti agbuybuya a kabalbalayan.
Ruk-atanyo, kinunak, saan a komunista
dagiti nasursuroan nga agsaludsod
dagiti agsuksukisok iti gapu dagiti gapu.
Ruk-utanyo ta kargok ida iti ili.
Saanda a bangkay nga immay ditoy
ket isaldak ti naganko, saanda a bangkay
nga agsubli kadagiti inada kadagiti daniw
ti ili a partuatenda. Ikarik iti nagan ti langit:
saankami nga immay tapno agsiim kadagiti palimed
kontra kadagiti mula kinelleng dingnguen
kontra kadagiti maipultit a putot dagiti gamrud
a salaksak kadagiti sanga a naspak.
Yawidmo dagiti komunista nga adalam.
Kasta ti balikas manipud iti ngudo ti igam.
Wen, dagusek a yadayo kadakayo
dagiti tagainepda maipapan iti pagilian.
Nabayagen daydi ket no dadduman
agtalawen ti lagip kadagiti bibig.
Ngem ita, iti pannakabasa iti damag,
agsubli dagiti punganay ti kinadaksanggasat.
A Solver Agcaoili
Hon, HI
Jan 23/08
(Note: More than 10 years ago, I brought my whole class at the University of the Philippines to Hacienda Looc in Nasugbu, Batangas, for a field work on Philippine Studies. We planned to spend several days in the Hacienda but that tragedy happened. Now, the Hacienda is in the news.)
Pannakaiserra ti Urna
Ibabaetmi dagiti killiing ti pirak
iti kastoy a panagsasarak
dagiti gargarakgaktayo.
Magagarantayo a mangammo
iti nagan ti reina a ti balangatna
ket ti panangitandudo
iti gapuanan iti tapok.
Ditoy a maikur-it
dagiti pangngadua ti pluma
no kasta a bumisita ti pangngadua
kadagiti balikas.
Saan nga iti amin nga oras
ket ti kanito ti diaya
dagiti pangngarig.
Iti sugat ti lagip iti isu amin
a pannusa dagiti darikmat a makapuris.
Ngem maiserra ti urna, kunatayo
ket itupaktayo amin a dungngo:
ti martsa, kas pagarigan
dagiti mutia nga addaan galinggaling
iti kumpas dagiti nabirtud nga alimuken
kadagiti silaw a kasla bituen. Anian a dayag!
Anian a pintas! Anian a sudi!
Idaniwto amin dagitoy ti mannanao
a billit a no agtulad ket agsao iti dakes!
Iti urna ti palimed
dagiti agkaribuso a kayat.
Ti korona iti ulo, kas pagarigan,
balangat iti isu amin a rigrigat
pakasaritaan ti pinnaksiat
nga idi pay ugma ket di agbaliw
a mansanas a kirabkirab.
A Solver Agcaoili
Hon, HI
Enero 22, 2008
iti kastoy a panagsasarak
dagiti gargarakgaktayo.
Magagarantayo a mangammo
iti nagan ti reina a ti balangatna
ket ti panangitandudo
iti gapuanan iti tapok.
Ditoy a maikur-it
dagiti pangngadua ti pluma
no kasta a bumisita ti pangngadua
kadagiti balikas.
Saan nga iti amin nga oras
ket ti kanito ti diaya
dagiti pangngarig.
Iti sugat ti lagip iti isu amin
a pannusa dagiti darikmat a makapuris.
Ngem maiserra ti urna, kunatayo
ket itupaktayo amin a dungngo:
ti martsa, kas pagarigan
dagiti mutia nga addaan galinggaling
iti kumpas dagiti nabirtud nga alimuken
kadagiti silaw a kasla bituen. Anian a dayag!
Anian a pintas! Anian a sudi!
Idaniwto amin dagitoy ti mannanao
a billit a no agtulad ket agsao iti dakes!
Iti urna ti palimed
dagiti agkaribuso a kayat.
Ti korona iti ulo, kas pagarigan,
balangat iti isu amin a rigrigat
pakasaritaan ti pinnaksiat
nga idi pay ugma ket di agbaliw
a mansanas a kirabkirab.
A Solver Agcaoili
Hon, HI
Enero 22, 2008
Blessings, 2
Heaven watch the Philippines.
from the song of Imelda Marcos in the film, 'Imelda'
Something reminds me
of heaven
in the homeland.
The riots, for instance.
Or the demonstrations that know
no bound, from street to street
until the stones on pavements
dry out and we convert the stones
to weapons for the slingshots.
Or the avenues vomitting people
as in vengeance, their hands
firm on placards
that in their red silence shouted:
"Down with dictators!
Down with fascists!
Down with imperialists!
Down with puppets!
Down with military regimes!
Down with poetry kowtowing to thieves!"
I do not know what can be raised here
when clamor is voice learned
and the people verbalize their
want for rice, not a dream
of pastries or bagel or croissant
whose fancy names
the masses of our people
cannot pronounce.
And the Italian masters, you say,
some Boticelli we do not know
whose landscape of pain
is a clean line of spring or snow
or some grand ladies
in their gold and brocade and diamond
their fingers the condominiums
of their husbands' greed and lust.
Or the cantor in his tenor
singing about the sun in its abundance,
shining brightly in lands
owned by friars and their queridas
or their substitutes in conference rooms
for the elect, their plans about saving us
whole-scale, in one full tango of a dance.
But there is one here
in the forefathers' land
that we do not know: the storms that
in their quick hand erode our view
of mountains and landscapes
and wind dancing with young leaves
in an afternoon glow of a rich hue
of orange and purple and then turning
into the azure of seas we dream of crossing
so we can see our own more fully,
away from the morning news
of rape of leaders against rights
bodies souls minds and decency.
As it is, we keep the singing
so we can temp the birds to fly
and challenge the skies
with their cotton clouds
that move with the earth and sun.
As it is, here always is the permanent
remembrance of things
that are yet to come.
A Solver Agcaoili
Hon, HI
Jan 19/08
from the song of Imelda Marcos in the film, 'Imelda'
Something reminds me
of heaven
in the homeland.
The riots, for instance.
Or the demonstrations that know
no bound, from street to street
until the stones on pavements
dry out and we convert the stones
to weapons for the slingshots.
Or the avenues vomitting people
as in vengeance, their hands
firm on placards
that in their red silence shouted:
"Down with dictators!
Down with fascists!
Down with imperialists!
Down with puppets!
Down with military regimes!
Down with poetry kowtowing to thieves!"
I do not know what can be raised here
when clamor is voice learned
and the people verbalize their
want for rice, not a dream
of pastries or bagel or croissant
whose fancy names
the masses of our people
cannot pronounce.
And the Italian masters, you say,
some Boticelli we do not know
whose landscape of pain
is a clean line of spring or snow
or some grand ladies
in their gold and brocade and diamond
their fingers the condominiums
of their husbands' greed and lust.
Or the cantor in his tenor
singing about the sun in its abundance,
shining brightly in lands
owned by friars and their queridas
or their substitutes in conference rooms
for the elect, their plans about saving us
whole-scale, in one full tango of a dance.
But there is one here
in the forefathers' land
that we do not know: the storms that
in their quick hand erode our view
of mountains and landscapes
and wind dancing with young leaves
in an afternoon glow of a rich hue
of orange and purple and then turning
into the azure of seas we dream of crossing
so we can see our own more fully,
away from the morning news
of rape of leaders against rights
bodies souls minds and decency.
As it is, we keep the singing
so we can temp the birds to fly
and challenge the skies
with their cotton clouds
that move with the earth and sun.
As it is, here always is the permanent
remembrance of things
that are yet to come.
A Solver Agcaoili
Hon, HI
Jan 19/08
Blessings, 1
God bless the Philippines.
from Imelda Marcos' song in the film "Imelda"
It is weaning away, like a mother's
heart letting go of her child
this song you sing
to repair our broken hearts,
many many hearts,
as a matter of fact.
You said it right through
the thick and thin of our primal fight
against those we have begun to love:
white skin and chocolates
democracy and white God.
They came to declare to us
that we are little brown brothers
the heavens decreed for them
to watch over and so
they have watched over us
with celloloid ecstasies
to keep us under guard, dreaming
dreaming dreaming of the day's wash
bathed in Hollywood lights, tinseltowns
in an orgy of tentative loves,
some violence to taste
some salvation for those happy endings
we expect to find in corner streets
where the rule of the game is the same
as in the august chambers of men
and women and lovers dreaming
about us, men and women and lovers
who have not known delight, not in a long
while while the earth in our land
is for sale, our souls for rent
and everything else such us honor,
offered on the silver plate for the kills,
in a frenzy of raping after raping
of our bitter cries.
The language, for instance.
And the culture we see as exhibits
of our meaningless lives.
We are enamored, and the world
opens up to us in quickie satiation
of need and want, in the dark
as in the shadows or both
to make things ephemeral
so in abstractions, as in thought
we can imagine of a republic of sorrow
a republic of failed dreams
a republic of struggles
in the olden times as today's.
And the shape of our miinds,
sharp like their noses
but only to mimic truths
on their books
and those of us who have become
them: us losing our accents
until ourselves are fluid like water
going through all the oceans
sailing and sailing so
and always ending up
in Los Angeles
Honolulu or New York.
Perhaps we are now in Houston
as in the borders of Laredo
or further down
in the outskirts of Arkansas
where walls define the destinies
of dreams we once owned
people of the earth
as well as people of exile
when borders did not have to cross us
where border are not in terms
of your abstractions about beauty
and truth and the good,
the trio of a deception
we had believed we had
before squatter walls
painted immaculately pristine
whitewashed for the touritsts to see
they who have the pretensions
to dance to your own tunes
even as you keep on drawing about truths
from ones and zeros and explain,
explain, explain, in words
empty as those of an Ilokano poet
talking about going home
while here, in the faraway reaches
of wandering like flotsam to dark water
we cannot tell of a teleology
you say is vision and salvation.
Were the dancing in the wee hours
those that did not include the dance
of deprivation we knew so well
like hunger going onto disease
or disease going onto greed for power
in the perpetuity of vice
so that on and on the show
was enough to feed us
with images, more images
and then we know nothing.
I do not know how to make
of your pronouncements:
what gives? what gives, indeed?
We count the years of our
wandering from dream
to dream. Words were given
us in the past, mantric and magical
and we know it was worth keeping
until the streets cried in pain
until the days were bloody whores
until the nights gave birth to fears
until the quiet was chaos
and then sleep brought us to other dreams
like cities we want to go back to
but cities that haunt us, come after us
like nations in their ghostly presence
residing in our confused selves
lives, loves. These are geographies too,
and the stories come to visit us
confirm who we are
and watch your full mouth
repeated the same mysteries
we memorized
we children of wars and revolutions
we children of much resolve to resolve
deceits in our hands the way we write
the truths we see in our verses.
A Solver Agcaoili
Hon, HI
Jan 19/08
from Imelda Marcos' song in the film "Imelda"
It is weaning away, like a mother's
heart letting go of her child
this song you sing
to repair our broken hearts,
many many hearts,
as a matter of fact.
You said it right through
the thick and thin of our primal fight
against those we have begun to love:
white skin and chocolates
democracy and white God.
They came to declare to us
that we are little brown brothers
the heavens decreed for them
to watch over and so
they have watched over us
with celloloid ecstasies
to keep us under guard, dreaming
dreaming dreaming of the day's wash
bathed in Hollywood lights, tinseltowns
in an orgy of tentative loves,
some violence to taste
some salvation for those happy endings
we expect to find in corner streets
where the rule of the game is the same
as in the august chambers of men
and women and lovers dreaming
about us, men and women and lovers
who have not known delight, not in a long
while while the earth in our land
is for sale, our souls for rent
and everything else such us honor,
offered on the silver plate for the kills,
in a frenzy of raping after raping
of our bitter cries.
The language, for instance.
And the culture we see as exhibits
of our meaningless lives.
We are enamored, and the world
opens up to us in quickie satiation
of need and want, in the dark
as in the shadows or both
to make things ephemeral
so in abstractions, as in thought
we can imagine of a republic of sorrow
a republic of failed dreams
a republic of struggles
in the olden times as today's.
And the shape of our miinds,
sharp like their noses
but only to mimic truths
on their books
and those of us who have become
them: us losing our accents
until ourselves are fluid like water
going through all the oceans
sailing and sailing so
and always ending up
in Los Angeles
Honolulu or New York.
Perhaps we are now in Houston
as in the borders of Laredo
or further down
in the outskirts of Arkansas
where walls define the destinies
of dreams we once owned
people of the earth
as well as people of exile
when borders did not have to cross us
where border are not in terms
of your abstractions about beauty
and truth and the good,
the trio of a deception
we had believed we had
before squatter walls
painted immaculately pristine
whitewashed for the touritsts to see
they who have the pretensions
to dance to your own tunes
even as you keep on drawing about truths
from ones and zeros and explain,
explain, explain, in words
empty as those of an Ilokano poet
talking about going home
while here, in the faraway reaches
of wandering like flotsam to dark water
we cannot tell of a teleology
you say is vision and salvation.
Were the dancing in the wee hours
those that did not include the dance
of deprivation we knew so well
like hunger going onto disease
or disease going onto greed for power
in the perpetuity of vice
so that on and on the show
was enough to feed us
with images, more images
and then we know nothing.
I do not know how to make
of your pronouncements:
what gives? what gives, indeed?
We count the years of our
wandering from dream
to dream. Words were given
us in the past, mantric and magical
and we know it was worth keeping
until the streets cried in pain
until the days were bloody whores
until the nights gave birth to fears
until the quiet was chaos
and then sleep brought us to other dreams
like cities we want to go back to
but cities that haunt us, come after us
like nations in their ghostly presence
residing in our confused selves
lives, loves. These are geographies too,
and the stories come to visit us
confirm who we are
and watch your full mouth
repeated the same mysteries
we memorized
we children of wars and revolutions
we children of much resolve to resolve
deceits in our hands the way we write
the truths we see in our verses.
A Solver Agcaoili
Hon, HI
Jan 19/08
Setentaisingko/75
(Ken Fely Cristobal, miembro, GUMIL Hawai’i,
iti maika-75 a panagkasangayna, Enero 13, 2008)
Bilangen iti ramay dagiti basbas
Ngem awan uray iti nginabras
Dagiti al-aldaw adu a naglabas
Dagiti numero saan nga umdas
Kas iti panangrambaktay ita
Kasangaymo a nagpaiduma
Sika a manangmi a Fely ida
Manangmi awan kapadpada
Sagrapenmi ti paraburmo iti gunglo
Bendisionmo kadakami pagayammo
Dakami a nakaimatang ‘ti imbagmo
Sudi ken taklin kananakem pudno
Ngarud manangmi a naayat
Kenka nga agkurno ti rimat
Bitbituen sadi langit nalawag
Narayray kas silaw datdatlag
Ararawmi ti ribo a langenlangen
Panagselebrar saguday panawen
Ta sika a kakaen ti talingenngen
Sika awan sabali a daydayawen
Ngarud kenka dagiti amin a lagip
Sika a kabinbinnulig ti tagainep
Idi man ken ita saan a mapnek
Panagyamanmi ken panagtalek
A Solver Agcaoili
Honolulu, Hawai’i
iti maika-75 a panagkasangayna, Enero 13, 2008)
Bilangen iti ramay dagiti basbas
Ngem awan uray iti nginabras
Dagiti al-aldaw adu a naglabas
Dagiti numero saan nga umdas
Kas iti panangrambaktay ita
Kasangaymo a nagpaiduma
Sika a manangmi a Fely ida
Manangmi awan kapadpada
Sagrapenmi ti paraburmo iti gunglo
Bendisionmo kadakami pagayammo
Dakami a nakaimatang ‘ti imbagmo
Sudi ken taklin kananakem pudno
Ngarud manangmi a naayat
Kenka nga agkurno ti rimat
Bitbituen sadi langit nalawag
Narayray kas silaw datdatlag
Ararawmi ti ribo a langenlangen
Panagselebrar saguday panawen
Ta sika a kakaen ti talingenngen
Sika awan sabali a daydayawen
Ngarud kenka dagiti amin a lagip
Sika a kabinbinnulig ti tagainep
Idi man ken ita saan a mapnek
Panagyamanmi ken panagtalek
A Solver Agcaoili
Honolulu, Hawai’i
Buena Suerte
Rugian ti tawen
ken aminen nga aldaw
iti buena suerte.
Naimbag a gasat
manipud kadagiti pusa
a bimmalitok
agpaypay uray
no nakaturog datao
ta awan sawiri
ken kettang ti ima
uray no urok
ti kakinnepkep
ti tagtagainep
maipapan
iti panaglung-aw
iti laksid ti et-et
ti barikes
ti panaas ti boksit
kas met iti tumeng
iti panaglualo kadagiti amin
a patron a dagiti dadduma
matikawda a dumngeg.
Din sa ketdi mamingga
ti kastoy. Ipuesto
ti anting-anting
nga ayup iti pantok
dagiti libro
a pagadawan iti pulkok
a no dadduma
ken umukuok
iti ulo, sellang, baet-sellang
wenno iti kullapit a barukong.
Saan a kas karina
ti mangbasa iti masakbayan
kadagiti linia ti babantot.
Uray no nalawag ti uged
iti ima. Sukal ti masapul,
kas iti panaginsenso iti agpatnag
tapno patangkenen ti sangi
kas met iti tured, tured-sipit
wenno isip.
Agtanamitim laeng iti babassit
a kararag iti nagan ti pusa
a no tumaldiap iti langit
isemna't marmarsaak,
marissaba nga isem
ti agis-isem a gasat.
Kas iti loteria dagiti numero
nga ur-urayen iti agpatag
a pannakakettang
ti mangurkurus a dakulap.
A Solver Agcaoili
Hon, HI
Jan 18/08
ken aminen nga aldaw
iti buena suerte.
Naimbag a gasat
manipud kadagiti pusa
a bimmalitok
agpaypay uray
no nakaturog datao
ta awan sawiri
ken kettang ti ima
uray no urok
ti kakinnepkep
ti tagtagainep
maipapan
iti panaglung-aw
iti laksid ti et-et
ti barikes
ti panaas ti boksit
kas met iti tumeng
iti panaglualo kadagiti amin
a patron a dagiti dadduma
matikawda a dumngeg.
Din sa ketdi mamingga
ti kastoy. Ipuesto
ti anting-anting
nga ayup iti pantok
dagiti libro
a pagadawan iti pulkok
a no dadduma
ken umukuok
iti ulo, sellang, baet-sellang
wenno iti kullapit a barukong.
Saan a kas karina
ti mangbasa iti masakbayan
kadagiti linia ti babantot.
Uray no nalawag ti uged
iti ima. Sukal ti masapul,
kas iti panaginsenso iti agpatnag
tapno patangkenen ti sangi
kas met iti tured, tured-sipit
wenno isip.
Agtanamitim laeng iti babassit
a kararag iti nagan ti pusa
a no tumaldiap iti langit
isemna't marmarsaak,
marissaba nga isem
ti agis-isem a gasat.
Kas iti loteria dagiti numero
nga ur-urayen iti agpatag
a pannakakettang
ti mangurkurus a dakulap.
A Solver Agcaoili
Hon, HI
Jan 18/08
Roda of our Redemption
Before the encounter, a gunshot was heard. Father Roda’s body was found bathed in his own blood. He died on the spot, Goltiao said in the AP report. Inquirer Mindanao Bureau, Jan. 17/08
It is martyrdom like this that we remember.
Witnessing it is this dying in sacrifice,
blood bathing you on cold cement
afterwards, with but the air you breathe
leaving you as soon as it can. Was it in the head
that the bullet ricocheted through, spilling
the brains in that head that knows
so much love? First, the story coming alive
in this oblation we call your history now,
your tragedies congregating to remind us
that once there was you and the men
before you, flesh on decay on the ground
that ate you up becasue: (one),
there are murderers of saving dreams and (two),
some can be on the ready to let go
of what this life and this earth can offer
so that, (three), more can be had from all these
nothingness that consume us all,
believers and those who believe something else.
The names come in whispers now:
Tulio Favali the foreigner,
and then you brethren of the cloth:
Rudy Romano (where is he now, he disappeared
in the shadows of the Marcos regime, with that famous
promise for a clean break with the rich
so that the new rulers can corner the best?)
Ortega of Bakun (did his severed head go back
to the rotten body while the dancing of the kaniaw went
on to appease the anitos of the dead?)
Balweg of Abra (was his political theology
something deep the killers do not understand
resonance of thought and words
and that sanctity that goes
with music and song and sadness
of injustice?)
How much more of blood in drums and drums
of them would be needed to keep the peace
and the quiet of our souls, we children
of the faith, children of murders, killers,
thieves, pretenders, cheats, politicians,
and careerist priests and clerics?
Our lives are conflicted. Yours define
the mysteries of the things
we hardly understand.
But let us go on, let us go on,
with your death. The living comes after it.
A Solver Agcaoili
Hon, HI
Jan 16/08
It is martyrdom like this that we remember.
Witnessing it is this dying in sacrifice,
blood bathing you on cold cement
afterwards, with but the air you breathe
leaving you as soon as it can. Was it in the head
that the bullet ricocheted through, spilling
the brains in that head that knows
so much love? First, the story coming alive
in this oblation we call your history now,
your tragedies congregating to remind us
that once there was you and the men
before you, flesh on decay on the ground
that ate you up becasue: (one),
there are murderers of saving dreams and (two),
some can be on the ready to let go
of what this life and this earth can offer
so that, (three), more can be had from all these
nothingness that consume us all,
believers and those who believe something else.
The names come in whispers now:
Tulio Favali the foreigner,
and then you brethren of the cloth:
Rudy Romano (where is he now, he disappeared
in the shadows of the Marcos regime, with that famous
promise for a clean break with the rich
so that the new rulers can corner the best?)
Ortega of Bakun (did his severed head go back
to the rotten body while the dancing of the kaniaw went
on to appease the anitos of the dead?)
Balweg of Abra (was his political theology
something deep the killers do not understand
resonance of thought and words
and that sanctity that goes
with music and song and sadness
of injustice?)
How much more of blood in drums and drums
of them would be needed to keep the peace
and the quiet of our souls, we children
of the faith, children of murders, killers,
thieves, pretenders, cheats, politicians,
and careerist priests and clerics?
Our lives are conflicted. Yours define
the mysteries of the things
we hardly understand.
But let us go on, let us go on,
with your death. The living comes after it.
A Solver Agcaoili
Hon, HI
Jan 16/08
Deploying a Despedida for Dean
(For Dr Dean Alegado, who decided to go back to the Philippines after more than 30 years of service to the University of Hawai'i and to the Filipino Community in the United States)
would you have kept
the poem I wrote
about homelands
not needing heroes
and if they do,
tough luck?
from my blog are more
of those, repeated, repeated,
repeated repeated
pleadings
that summon what grief
we have for ourselves.
you go back soon
to the very earth
that gave you the words
to find the road to a revolution
in thought and in deed
one revolution that means
so much to us exiles
students teachers advocates
we who know nothing but restlessness
as we keep moving from tale to truth
from truth to your truth
and the challenges that come in between.
i watched you gather all the phrases
that need to the said uttered recited
to keep us on the guard for those who will sell us
to the devil who knows what enchantment
there is in making life akimbo
as if in a perpetual motion of regret.
and then here you are:
coming full circle in that circle
we can only envy.
another poet
of the revolution and of our people
in their cries think of going home
after this stint with earning something
for the remittance that comes in as a duty
each week, each time the dollar gets into the hand.
in the meantime, of course,
the homeland waits for the returning exile
in his lights, food or no food in sight.
A Solver Agcaoili
Hon, HI
Jan 16/08
would you have kept
the poem I wrote
about homelands
not needing heroes
and if they do,
tough luck?
from my blog are more
of those, repeated, repeated,
repeated repeated
pleadings
that summon what grief
we have for ourselves.
you go back soon
to the very earth
that gave you the words
to find the road to a revolution
in thought and in deed
one revolution that means
so much to us exiles
students teachers advocates
we who know nothing but restlessness
as we keep moving from tale to truth
from truth to your truth
and the challenges that come in between.
i watched you gather all the phrases
that need to the said uttered recited
to keep us on the guard for those who will sell us
to the devil who knows what enchantment
there is in making life akimbo
as if in a perpetual motion of regret.
and then here you are:
coming full circle in that circle
we can only envy.
another poet
of the revolution and of our people
in their cries think of going home
after this stint with earning something
for the remittance that comes in as a duty
each week, each time the dollar gets into the hand.
in the meantime, of course,
the homeland waits for the returning exile
in his lights, food or no food in sight.
A Solver Agcaoili
Hon, HI
Jan 16/08
Pannangan iti Orasion
(Ken Manong Juan SP Hidalgo Jr, gapu iti di maungpot-ungpot a saritaan maipapan iti misterio ti biag.)
Agbilangta kadagiti dekada
iti baet dagiti daniw,
ti daniwmo ken ayat
ti daniwko iti gera.
Sadino a sulinek ti lubong
ti nangitundaan kadagiti lailo
ti lualo ken dagiti pammati
nga agkamata?
Nagbeddalak iti saludsod
iti maysa a bigat
a pannakabista a sika
ti nangisaklang kadagiti panirigan
a simmiasi iti panangaskasaba
kadagiti daldalan ti arte
a tapok laeng ti kaiboganna,
rugit iti kada sawen
idinto ta mannubbot
ket papagnaenna dagiti pilay
pagbukiradenna dagiti mata
dagiti agimbubulsek
luktanna ti panunot dagiti nengneng
mannaniw man wenno tarawitwit.
Inamad idi diak masungbatan
iti kanito dagiti panagallaalla
nga uray iti rabii ket agkurus
dagiti dalanta, sika a rummuar
iti kararua tapno agampayag
agbirok iti panaglaing
kadagiti bulbulong ken pannakikakasi
iti grasia. Kadagiti lana a mabirokan
dagitoy, sapsapo iti barukong
nga agbabantot, kas maysa a pauli.
Wenno iti isip a no agagal
ket maintar-intar amin
a Viernes Santo a panaguli
iti kabakiran tapno iti kanito
ti panagkudaap ti Dios
manipud iti kalbario
ket agungar a sigud dagiti ramut.
Iti seremonia ni Juan dela Cruz
a nagrana dagiti binatogta:
kenka kadagiti akikid
a dana ti panagbirbirok iti kaipapan
kaniak kadagiti makariro a panagagal
iti an-anayen ti sinurat.
Ania a paulo, kas pagarigan
ti isurat kadagiti panagsarimaddeng
ti ramay tapno maikur-it
dagiti kampay-idi ti kimat
wenno gurruod iti umuna a verso
ti pannakapaay kadagiti milagro
a no ur-urayem ket di met umay?
Manganka iti orasion, kunaem kaniak.
Ket dagiti makabiag a balikas
ipatulodmo iti angin, sa iti sirmata
dagiti baglan nga iti sagrado nga arte
ket idiay nga umadak, agindeg
kas idi un-unana tapno mangited
samay dagiti karkararag.
A Solver Agcaoili
Hon, HI
En 11/07
Agbilangta kadagiti dekada
iti baet dagiti daniw,
ti daniwmo ken ayat
ti daniwko iti gera.
Sadino a sulinek ti lubong
ti nangitundaan kadagiti lailo
ti lualo ken dagiti pammati
nga agkamata?
Nagbeddalak iti saludsod
iti maysa a bigat
a pannakabista a sika
ti nangisaklang kadagiti panirigan
a simmiasi iti panangaskasaba
kadagiti daldalan ti arte
a tapok laeng ti kaiboganna,
rugit iti kada sawen
idinto ta mannubbot
ket papagnaenna dagiti pilay
pagbukiradenna dagiti mata
dagiti agimbubulsek
luktanna ti panunot dagiti nengneng
mannaniw man wenno tarawitwit.
Inamad idi diak masungbatan
iti kanito dagiti panagallaalla
nga uray iti rabii ket agkurus
dagiti dalanta, sika a rummuar
iti kararua tapno agampayag
agbirok iti panaglaing
kadagiti bulbulong ken pannakikakasi
iti grasia. Kadagiti lana a mabirokan
dagitoy, sapsapo iti barukong
nga agbabantot, kas maysa a pauli.
Wenno iti isip a no agagal
ket maintar-intar amin
a Viernes Santo a panaguli
iti kabakiran tapno iti kanito
ti panagkudaap ti Dios
manipud iti kalbario
ket agungar a sigud dagiti ramut.
Iti seremonia ni Juan dela Cruz
a nagrana dagiti binatogta:
kenka kadagiti akikid
a dana ti panagbirbirok iti kaipapan
kaniak kadagiti makariro a panagagal
iti an-anayen ti sinurat.
Ania a paulo, kas pagarigan
ti isurat kadagiti panagsarimaddeng
ti ramay tapno maikur-it
dagiti kampay-idi ti kimat
wenno gurruod iti umuna a verso
ti pannakapaay kadagiti milagro
a no ur-urayem ket di met umay?
Manganka iti orasion, kunaem kaniak.
Ket dagiti makabiag a balikas
ipatulodmo iti angin, sa iti sirmata
dagiti baglan nga iti sagrado nga arte
ket idiay nga umadak, agindeg
kas idi un-unana tapno mangited
samay dagiti karkararag.
A Solver Agcaoili
Hon, HI
En 11/07
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