ALAALA NG KAHAPON
alaala ng kahapon memories of the past
ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS Alay would like to thank the Student Union Assembly (SUA), CAO/Provost, Cowell Student Senate, Student Media Council, Core Council, Community Printers, and the Bayanihan community. We would like to give a special thanks to our advisor Susan Watrous and David Bossie from Community Printers. Thank you to students of color who have continuously supported and contributed creative work from and by the Pilipinx community. Alay meaning "dedication" and "offering" in Tagalog, is an annual student publication comprised of original written and visual artwork by the Pilipinx community and our allies at the University of California, Santa Cruz. Our mission is to provide the Bayanihan community and our allies a safe space to cultivate creativity, self-expression and share their culture, identity, and experiences. Cover design by Sabrina Illumin and Sierra Caoili. Copyright ÂŠ 2020 by Alay. All rights retained by authors and artists. For full versions of written pieces and more Alay submissions, please check out our website at alayanthology.com. Contact firstname.lastname@example.org to submit to next year's edition!
EDITORS-IN-CHIEF Sierra Caoili Laura Gavia
INTERNS Maybelle Caro Gabriel Gorospe Ryan Mariveles
STAFF Mia Aniceto Ella Apuntar Katy Art Kristen Baniaga Jonathan Coelho Ethan Domingo Chantel Gee Aaron Guiz Ryan Nachor Markus Faye Portacio Michael Sim
Dear reader, A branch with sampaguitas hangs over the title, Alaala ng Kahapon, or Memories of the Past. Often used in religious offerings, the sampaguita symbolizes divine hope, the promise that tomorrow will arrive. Memories soften around the edges. These moments we are presented with now are closed off to us; not until with time do they reveal their true beauty and significance. Similarly, the sampaguita begins as a bud, but then slowly but surely offers itself to us as a magnificent bloom. Take space for yourself to reflect and appreciate the times that helped shape who you are today. Recognize how far you've come and how you will continue to grow. However, understand that although wallowing in the past may feel tempting, to live in the present is truly liberating. The past wounds us because feelings of regret surface. This collection of work is a gentle reminder to be present to make these moments last. As you read through, admire the sampaguita when she blooms; the branch she perches on like a lending hand outstretched to you in this period of uncertainty. But never forget she will never close herself on you, that she will always arrive again when you need her most.
With love, Sierra and Laura 4
bari bari jules abad
Danielle Del Rosario
my scattered morning thoughts Aaron Guiz the sun rises, rise too.
so I should
but my feet are too tired, too tired from my own weight, too tired from my own self.
so it takes a while,
it takes a while to feel that will to live.
to feel enough.
then I forget,
if I did the dishes last night. then I forget, if I threw out the trash. then I forget, if I remembered anything at all.
so now I lay here. on my bed that hugs me like how my Mama used to hug me. like how when I was a child and she, not too old yet, both laughed and smiled. but those are memories I forget from time to time.
so I lay here, not wanting to
move. not wanting to forget another day.
Aug 31, 2019
a love that falls as fast as a body from a balcony. - mitski curly headed angel. band geek, prom queen, scorpion tamer Our hands brush behind a smokescreen, Underneath a litany of starlight Your touch collapses me to atom One look and my chest bursts at the seams One kiss and my skin turns to silk Melting, Melting. This delicate, dangerous web we weave I peer through the strings as you play me to sleep Your body; my favorite lullaby With you, describing the indescribable becomes everyday routine I cannot capture the waves you elicit any more than you can trap moonshine in a jar Your body crashing into mine like a slow-motion train wreck Your tongue at my throat like a knife My gaze devours your every inchThe clench of your jaw; Your wide, concerned eyes; The determined tilt of your chin How can anyone look at You without choking up?
For me, every moment is permeated by the knowledge that we are loving on borrowed time oftentimes, the present already feels like a memory when I close my eyes I picture Your palms cradling my favorite houseplant epipremnum aureum; 'devil's vine' shallow breaths wrapped around my neck like ivy Your rough, steady, gentle hands trailing behind my Want for everything we can't have is burning a hole in my pocket. There is never enough sand in the hourglass
Never enough hours in the night The clock ticking, pulses skipping, Unzipping our spines as the secrets spill out til sunrise The crack in my ribcage furthers underneath the weight of our numbered days our heartbeats: racing against time, fingers interlaced in a desperate prayer The cells in our skin, Singing, Singing: I wish you would stay.
After School Jess Smith 11
minnesota boys Anael Banta
friendship d. tuesday movie nights, midnight drives, tiramisu, and the endless sound of laughter. people come and people go, the times and feelings change, but the memories made will remain. (for all my graduating friends, we'll miss you)
Petal Highlights C.J. Apar
Cristian Mendoza 15
Lost B.T. Life
When I'm in the dark, I feel like I'm set free. It scares me, but at the same time I feel the sanity. It is not without pain do you feel the calamity. I feel the dejection of my life reaching out without warning. To be trapped in something I can't handle only to understand what it means to be. To write these poems are to ease the pain, But this isn't a cry for help, I just want to explain: Life is what you make of it, sure... that is true But life is only what you make of it, if you can be you... And if you can't be you, then what? If you can't talk to the people you thought you could trust, then what? If the people you talked to stopped, then what? Life is nuts I hate to fuss But this ain't enough. Life is what you make it, it's the hands you're dealt with, but if we're dealt a poor hand, why do we have to take it?
Clouded Memories Michael Blancaflor
Just a Phase Ryan Nachor
Wasted Paper Gabriel Gorospe
Malungkot Nicole Baal
Kunico Ishiki still, I see you and my pulse skips like a record Like god throwing gravestones across the Pacific a quake to rattle the Bloodstream
Loving you was as natural as breathingTaking in your hands as easily as air still, Your name fills my mouth like a promise Like a flock of doves in flight my Heart waiting on every corner like a dog outside a restaurant
empty wishes bread
tunnels wishing wells 11:11 and shooting stars i spent all my wishes on you, hoping you'd come back - empty wishes
It is late
Aaron Guiz It is late, and I am running from myself. The road is dark, and the only sounds that fill the air are the chirps of cicadas. It reminds me of the time I got lost in the forest with my brother. We were young, but I was younger than him. He had a cut under his eye from a fight that summer. I remember touching the scab, and how it was rough like the dirt road we got lost on. I was scared, and I knew my brother was scared too, but he put on that I ain't scared of nothin hat, and it fit well on him. It was around 5 p.m. or some time near that, and we wanted to go on an adventure like children do. I remember walking for a while, and my brother's sweaty hands holding mine. I remember the uneven ground, and how hard it was to keep myself from falling. I remember how dark it was, and that I cried enough tears to wet the sleeves of my jacket. It took us a while, but we were able to find our way home. My brother gave me a big hug when we got back to our room. It's okay, he told me. I'm scared like how I was scared before, but now my brother isn't here with that hat on for me. I'm my own man, I told myself when I left home. That was after my brother died. He was at the hospital, and I had some stupid sport game. He had gotten into an accident with his car, so he was put on life support. Our parents saw him before he died. They told me how the nurse said encouraging things to them, but it never lightened the mood. They told me how bad the hospital food was, and how uncomfortable the seats were in the ICU. They told me all these things because I wasn't able to see my brother before he died. I never got to see him again, or the dumb scar under his eye. I remember how lonely his bed was the night he died. I remember the undone blankets, and pillow that still held the shape of his head.
Lonely Longan Markus Faye Portacio
Reset Chelsea Lindayen
Merrill Memories Ethan Perlada 28
Anonymous I'm scared of falling. When I was in high school, I climbed the tallest tree in the world. The view from the top was beautiful and I felt excited but scared. Scared that the beauty wouldn't last. And it didn't. My parents didn't know I climbed the tree until the branch crunched beneath my weight and I felt myself fall back to Earth. Crash. I looked at the branches that broke my fall and cried. Cried that I ruined something so beautiful to me. I'm scared of falling. A few years go by and I didn't dare try to climb another tree. It crossed my mind from time to time but I always stayed away. Recently I've found myself staring at this tree at the top of a steep hill. Not tall enough to frighten me, but tall enough to make my heart beat quicker. I miss the view from the treetops and the sight of it beckons me to climb. I'm scared of falling, but I'm strong enough to get back up. And with that, I climb once more.
Garden Patio Anonymous
When was the last time you looked at the sky? Taking a Moment Taking a Second
And the infinite abyss of blue Sometimes Red Sometimes Orange You never really know When it ends or Where it ends Ever-changing Ever Growing Everlasting. Like You
When do you end? Where do you end?
Pondering Erin Subido
Santa Cruz Blues Jenna Morris
STOP.LOOK.LISTEN Jon Coelho
Quilt of the Filipino People's Struggle mak aruta 34
An Ode To The Batang Heneral (An Ode To The Young Heneral) Jared Semana
Goyo, I've seen you grow Firm, strong as sugar cane Wide, dense as trees Diliman In truth, all you've come to know Can be found on the mountain that day. Lessons to never forget, gracious one. Goyo, the Nanay of Balagbag once said The youth are our hope, the next in line And you with steady spirit and sharpness Of mind Now stand tall, where you once felt dread. Goyo, know all obstacles can be Overcome When you and the masses are one. Through rain heavy, path mud slick, brush Dense Know their heartbeat, attuned to sense Goyo, when victory comes We'll be on that mountain again Reveling with the lek, friends The wind whistling through wild grass. The sun rising for a red tomorrow. The rain ready to bless land once Sorrowed. But for now rest, Let your strength gather, mind at ease Readied to guide, seize The opportunities to come. Batang Heneral, I salute you And all the victories to be won. 35
Power to the People Veronica Caryn Luz
Unionism is NOT a Crime Jon Coelho
A mountain being wiped away Santiago Alvarez A mountain being wiped away With memories that carry in the rain Lightning flashes strike! Searching for terrain The terrain that gave gifts And families a space Their connection to the land Is a connection to the pain To a mountain being wiped away All the birds now must fly away Never to return To the place they stayed A mountain being wiped away Cut open at the face Explosions taking place to fabricate a cityscape A mountain being wiped away Now it's got a different name Security surveillance and says they're keeping people "safe" Not to mention military never far away They take their aim to make their presence from heart into the brain A mountain being wiped away But the peasants are here to stay No one can truly explain Their struggles of every day
The frontline soldiers who are solid as the boulders That the miners try to break to send away to get their pay We don't live this each day But it only takes a taste Of the conditions that they face To know their bravery and grace When government tried to take They trust in the land and stay Consistently carrying the weight Always moving despite the ache They don't have a lot to share But share everything anyways So the least that I can do Is share their stories on this page To connect and relate And respect what is great Much bigger than any empire that dominates This is for all the third world people living minimum wage Whether you're in the states or anywhere overseas Our connection to land goes deeper than their machines On a mountain being wiped away Will you stand around and wait? Or join us in this movement All contributions are great No matter your class or race This is a journey we can all take The learning what is at stake And the learning from mistakes
We have our whole lifetime It's never too late But we need to act now We have no time to waste Because a mountain's being wiped a way Just like the thousands Already gone away A symptom of exploitation Violations and rape Of mountains of bodies of water Of bodies- children and daughters That's enacted all around the globe On this world stage All under the name of trade This is the state Of the nations of today 500 years of genocide Will never go away Until were all free So don't you ever forget where you came We inherit the earth when our elders pass away So let us build and create in revolutionary ways The future is ours to shape And the future is today So for our children's sake Let's make the change So no more mountains are ever wiped away.
reno2004.avi jules abad
Kernels of Wisdom Jon Coelho
Pangarap Ysa 44
nostalgia? don't know her Jon and Mia
Nostalgia is the tradition of revolution but what are we doing if we are not honoring their mission to end the submission of those who will come after? Nostalgia can take the form Of a vicious beast That disillusions And misconstrues The hyper romanticizing Of the past Leaves you feeling oddly bittersweet While yearning For a moment That once was Or a disillusionment That your mind wished it was Nostalgia is not confined To the aesthetics of our tito's and tita's from the 70's Vintage photographs of manongs during cigarette breaks Standing in formation across stale and warped pool tables This is not all nostalgia is It is knowing The realities and atrocities of the history of our ancestors It is understanding That nostalgia lies beyond what any romanticized photograph could ever depict Beyond those vintage photos of our Tito's and Tita's 45
They lived in fear during times of war When Martial Law consumed the streets Proven by the scars on their feet From serving in imperialist wars fueled by American deceit Teleseryes objectify women's bodies as Tools for labor and sex Comfort women embody horrific truths Of organs rearranged and bruised necks Memories of horror cloud their minds Reminded of the lives they once left behind Suppressing the trauma, unable to speak Past lives in the motherland Pray to God every week It is the undying and revolutionary spirit Within the Filipino heart and soul Carried forward across all generations
Rise from the Ashes Missy Hart
Kuhaan Mo! Ryan Nachor
Crescent Soul Jake T 51
'Untitled' from a Car Ride through Mexico Martha Lara
birds of a feather Lluvia Moreno
HOME Keila Tumbaga
Mesmerized Louisa Ou
sun & moon bread
you are the sun: radiant, hopeful, safety, warmth i am the moon: mysterious, cold, shy, emotional the earth's magnetic field consistently draws me to you, pushing and pulling endlessly we continue to dance, chasing and chasing each other time and time again, always missing by a mere moment perhaps the sun and moon were not meant to be together, but instead they were meant to live side by side, coexisting.
only to wait for the next eclipse
Logan Handsomepants Mia Aniceto 57
Memories on the horizons Nathan Zhou
The Field of Flowers Ryan Mariveles
Where did the time go where I felt whole, and full. The growing distaste for the menial choices of the day, That which means almost nothing in comparison, To the distaste I have for life. From waking up early at dawn to sleeping late past the bustle of life. Where did the time go where I felt whole. I wake as tired as I laid down to rest. The weight of responsibility only aided by the insurmountable, The weight of a darkened past, a darkened mind. Such tenebrific thoughts do to the mind as mud to the flower. The sodden mud suffocating the roots of a once vibrant field, Yet why do flowers still bloom? In the seemingly endless storm, where rain like bullets pelt the ground. Scarce flowers bloom amongst the madness. Through storms of hail, rain, sleet, and snow such flowers know nothing but color and life. Their petals withstand the burden of thought, The rain of red, and the rain of sorrow. Where did the time go where I walked through such a field. A field of vibrant flowers, fanciful memories, and awesome characters. For all I have left are the sodden roots of once was, And the lingering flowers that care not of the rain, but of those who walk the field. Where did the time go where the sun rose and set on such a field. Where the warm rays rinsed ravenously the choked soil. As I sit here now amidst the bullets of the storm I find solace in that of the lingering flowers, And the hope of the rising sun soon to come. 60
An Innocent Stroll Samantha Sebandal
September (i) Tati Martinez
September (ii) Tati Martinez
seasons of change Ivy Chen
spring. chartreuse green sunlit lawns tightly rolled jeans, barefoot faces dipped in fresh books tranquility sets over campus with each can of yerba drank summer. golden fields dried-up grass energy plummets lethargy reigns gets progressively even more difficult to climb these hills autumn. colors in full bloom each changing at such rapid pace racing to get to the next stage my mind too follows eagerly in a kaleidoscopic wave winter. a prayer for peace to settle this firing bricolage of ideas that grows within creativity to some as they call it but i was told that it was something more
Vibe Check Jayson Abique
Progress 31 Antonio
Progress 32 66
La Donna Mobile Kristine Gail Buriel
For the Love of You... Martha Lara
Anonymous And although our time together has ended I know I will yet love you again no matter what Maybe not now, or tomorrow, or the day after Maybe never hold, or feel, or ever kiss you again But I know I will love you again when my time is right: When my time is right, I will leave the shattered pieces you left and not bleed to what you have wanted left broken I will walk away from the nights when loving you meant leaving none for me. I will throw these cigarettes; unmorphed from the addiction To your beautiful yet so toxic love that buzzes me out of my reality When my time is finally right, I will have the courage to accept that our love had become another story; painful but worth every reminiscing, Toxic but worth growing from;
Mi amor, When my time is finally right, I will heal from all these wounds, And I will love you again. But for now, tomorrow, or the day after, Allow my hurting to stop, Allow your lies to fade, Allow me to build myself again Although for now, our time together has ended, I know I will yet love you again no matter what Not now, or tomorrow, or the day after Not to hold, or feel, or ever kiss you again, But I will love you again, when my time is right. 69
Gamer at Heart Chantel Gee
wish Ella Apuntar
Where there is room for me Carmelle Catamura
Where do I place myself in your life? Do I place myself next to your past lovers? Drunken nights and blurry faces Names you can't remember But I remember your face clear and sober And you sang my name in between song verses Do I place myself next to your friends? Friends that hold hands And friends that fall asleep next to each other and sometimes friends that make you late for class We were more than that and we were less than that We were 5-hour long pillow talks but we were also 10-second small talk Do I place myself next to a stranger? Just another person in the bus Just another person passing by Me and you when we weren't alone And if I could choose my place in your life It would be in your embrace Because in there, there is room for me. 74
Robert Marmito 75
The act of art Gioh Sung
Different View Robert Marmito
Mia Aniceto 78
Mia Aniceto The smell of salonpas And cigarillos tuck me into bed at night I wanna sleep for dayzzz Intoxicated but simultaneously nauseated By the oddly comforting scent Of your pride and self-deprecation Yikez Release that energy, mommy Release those demons That you bestow upon Your Own Damn Self Walking around the island With that energy That negativity On your shoulders Lift the weight off Ain't no one forcing you To lug that baggage around
Turbulence Kristen Baniaga
When I think of you, I ponder about your smile, your genuine touch, and your soft voice. The knots in your hair. The passion in your voice and soul. Your motivation. I sit alone to myself and wonder, "Where did I go wrong when it came to you?" Where did this sudden feeling of resentment, Indifference and Tension come from? I hated you so much for growing into the person you needed when you were younger But suddenly drifting away when I needed you the most. I became numb when I realized I couldn't have you back. Did you think I was writing about someone in my life? I wish. I am writing this to and for myself.
Arimoanga at Buwan Markus Faye Portacio 82
Grandma's Sweet Potato Pie Katy Art The pie I always look forward to during the holidays, not too sweet and always made with love. Ingredients: 2 medium sweet potatoes (about 1-1/2 pounds), peeled and cubed 1/3 cup butter, softened 1/2 cup sugar 2 large eggs at room temperature, lightly beaten 3/4 cup evaporated milk 1 teaspoon vanilla extract 1/2 teaspoon ground cinnamon 1/2 teaspoon ground nutmeg 1/4 teaspoon salt 1 unbaked pastry shell (9 inches) Directions: Place sweet potatoes in a medium saucepan; add water to cover. Bring to a boil. Reduce heat; cook, uncovered, until tender, 13-15 minutes. Drain potatoes; return to pan. Mash until very smooth; cool to room temperature. In a bowl, cream butter and sugar. Add eggs; mix well. Add milk, two cups mashed sweet potatoes, vanilla, cinnamon, nutmeg and salt; mix well. Pour into pie shell. Bake at 425Ë&#x161; for 15 minutes. Reduce heat to 350Ë&#x161;; bake until set or a knife inserted in the center comes out clean, about 35-40 minutes longer. Cool. Store in refrigerator.
Danielle Del Rosario
Countryside Meadow Veenna San Felipe 86
Violin Rendition Ronald Lingat
chico (ii) Ella Apuntar
The Realities of Growing up Gustavo Tellez-Mendoza Ever since I left I think to myself, Why did I have to grow up. Now whenever I go back home, we always have tough conversations. It wasn't always like that. Now it's, you can come back home anytime. It was, what did you learn today? Now it's, do you have money? It was, what ice cream do you want? Now it's, ĂŠchele con ganas. It was, don't worry about anything. I wish I can be, The bright-eyed little boy that I once was Sitting in the comfort of my home, eating conchas con leche de chocolate with the family. Back then our conversations were about action figures, super heroes, and telenovelas. It still is. It's just not the same anymore.
Childhood Sweets Mikayla Kai Linis 91
Veronica Caryn Luz
Veronica Caryn Luz
peace by piece Yeli Daza
Deer friends Mikki Lim 96
;0 Michael Sim 97
#413 Ysa 98
Deanne Presas (before) a mountain of blankets, the smell of garlic rice, eggs, and longanisa, morning news from the television floods the background noise, that is what home felt like. (after) i've learned that home is not a place nor a feeling, but a person. home makes you feel safe, happy, warm, and loved. my home is with you â&#x20AC;&#x201D; wherever that may be. from far and wide, near and close, if you are here, i know i am home
Like a persimmon, pluck me from the branch above Savor my flesh by the spoonful Tease out my sweetness O, so earthly! quite Heavenly!
My Kitchen Anonymous
Days after school with Nanay Emay, who would have ready for me skewers of bitso-bitso. Those mounds of fried sweet sticky rice that came in threes, which you could only get from inside the display case at Ralph's Grocery. The delight it brought me when I had unwrapped the parchment and finally stickied my fingers. She drinks tea from her favorite drinking glass. She had scored it for $0.50 at a flea market; her first purchase in the States since arriving from Manila. It's these little victories that make our family triumphant.
Parents Portrait Sabrina Illumin
Danielle Del Rosario
powerlines Anael Banta 104
Aaron Guiz my feet are
gliding through the A
R, on a skateboard that
i bought at a skateshop. and .
i cruise and cruise and cruise andcr uise and cruise crui seand c ru ise and cruise.
so i head for the
with no destination in mind.
HILLS HILLS HILLS HILLS
HILLS HILLS HILLS HILLS
and the hills lead me to nowhere. but that's fine,
because now, i'm one with the floor, and the floor is one with me. when my body collides at twenty miles
with the concrete, per hour. 105
Aaron Guiz 7-8, 24, 105 Aeon 37 Anael Banta 12, 104 Antonio 66 Anonymous 29, 30, 69, 72, 100, 101
Bread 23, 56 B.T. 16
Camille Siores 93 Carmelle Catamura 74 Champagne Jumawan 48 Chantel Gee 70 Chelsea Lindayen 27 C.J. Apar 14 Cristian Mendoza 15
D. 13 Danielle Del Rosario 6, 85, 103 Deanne Presas 99
Ella Apuntar 71, 88 Erin Subido 31, 81 Ethan Perlada 28-29
Gabriel Gorospe 20 Gioh Sung 76 Gustavo Tellez-Mendoza 90
Ivy Chen 64
J 50 Jake T 51 Jared Semana 35 Jayson Abique 65 Jenna Morris 32 Jess Smith 11 Jon and Mia 45-46 Jon Coelho 33, 38, 43 Jules Abad 5, 42
Katy Art 84 Keila Tumbaga 54 Kristen Baniaga 80 Kristine Gail Buriel 67 Kunico Ishiki 9-10, 22
Laura Gavia 89 Lluvia Moreno 53 Louisa Ou 55
Mak Aruta 34 Mariah Peralta 73 Markus Faye Portacio 26, 82-83 Martha Lara 52, 68 Mia Aniceto 57, 78, 79 Michael Blancaflor 18 Michael Sim 25, 59, 97 Mikayla Kai Linis 91 Mikki Lim 96 Missy Hart 47
Robert Marmito 17, 75, 77 Ronald Lingat 87 Ryan Mariveles 60 Ryan Nachor 19, 49
Sabrina Illumin 102 Samantha Sebandal 61 Santiago Alvarez 39-41
Tati Martinez 62, 63
Veenna San Felipe 86 Veronica Caryn Luz 36, 92, 94
Yeli Daza 95 Ysa 44, 98
Nathan Zhou 58 Nicole Baal 21 107