Layog (Saldang + Diklom)

LAYOG (Flight) The Literary and art folio of Aquinian Herald The Official Student Publication of Aquinas University of Legazpi

SALDANG + DIKLOM There are two sides in a story: The BEGINNING and The END. one could be the LIGHT of a new future or the DARKNESS of a forgotten past.

They say that a simple SPARK cradled the world and others assumed that it all started in the VOID. Some would say that The BRIGHTNESS, itself, doesn’t exist, That it is just an absence of The SHADOWS, while some considers it as a metaphorical alternative for the oblivion.

Each of us has that unique perspective in life. we either cling in the radiance of SALDANG or turn to the various shades of DIKLOM. we may have a different muster of philosophies. we may have a different mural of broken memories. we may find ourselves in the other side of the TREE. but it in the end, there is only light and dark – SALDANG and DIKLOM. Here we see them converging into ONE and the TWO are not so far apart.

AQUINIAN HERALD

2 0 1 5 L A Y O G

OVERALL PROJECT HEAD //

KARL B. BRIGUERA

CONTENT EDITOR //JOHN

PAUL B. GARRIDO

ART AND GRAPHICS EDITOR

// WENDELL T. CILOT

SALDANG

A Dream in the Dim Ma. Cathrina A. Belda

I’m walking in a dark lonely road.

Life is nothing but a word.

It has been full of grim for a lady, Just how a murky way is busted and empty.

A glimpse of light From a woman’s smile, so bright Wishing the best for the lady, That there will be equality.

Feelings that was just ignored and swelled.

When the lady tripped and fell.

But no matter what will transpire, We will always be inspired.

We can go everywhere you go.

We stand tall in the glow.

We’re not just pink and pretty.

We also live in simplicity.

There, I saw a light, Beautiful and brilliant.

If a wish will be given, I’ll sing and dance to the rhythm.

Then, life is neither just a word Nor a dark lonely road.

It has been full of dreams, That can be seen even in the dim.

SALDANG

PHOTO BY ALLAINE REYES

SALDANG

PHOTO BY PAUL MENDIZABAL

SALDANG

PHOTO BY PAUL MENDIZABAL

SALDANG

The Port City Wakes Arthur Calleja

The sun begins to cast its rays of light On the humble people of the gulf To carry in their waking hours Their dreams like coconuts seeds Swept from the sea: They become giants Jogging against The sloth of their souls To greet ian the port The fishermothers, the fisherfathers, Returning To share with the city The bounties of the sea To bring back to their humble homes hope That their children will carry In their backs With their heavy bags Full of lessons They will learn Once they come to school Through the first vehicles of the morning The jeeps and drivers full of hope In a stress-free driving Waking from sleep Rizal, Penaranda, Berquiaga, The sari-sari stores, their groggy eyelids Unlocked and pushed open By their owners The pan de sal bakeries Serenading homes With their warm scents of toast The carinderias feeding Young office workers full of hope For their cubicle days

SALDANG

The laborers waiting To build together Concrete and steel skeletons That will flesh the gamble, the hope Of old Chinoy families The voices of the devout In the halls of St. Thaddeus, St. Raphael And the Orosite Mosque The ears of the few wandering souls Still lost in their own inner mazes The hands of begging grandmothers The forgotten children The forlorn thief in the wet market The stray dogs scavenging Fresh garbage For garbage boys to collect In exchange for food, a few paper bills, And hope The same hope New schools of fish Feed on The sleeping Barnacle towns Hidden by scrap new and old Resting in the sunken walls And old stones Of the port And hope The same hope Our dreams feed on To walk as giants In the sun’s slow gentle fishing Of the growing port city.

SALDANG

PHOTOS BY FRANCES NICOLE BANTON

SALDANG

Layog Dello

Pen and Ink

SALDANG

Paradise Jape Garrido

The radiance of the sun lingered in my vision. The clouds were flowing like big cruisers in the sky. The sky was flaunting its azure shade.

The birds were soaring like rockets, reaching for the stars, aiming to touch the heavens. I, myself, tried to do that. I used to reach my stars. I used to aim them but I just can’t reach them, no matter how hard I tried. Giving up was the option but I didn’t accept it. I believed that giving up means living in the darker side, isolating one from succeeding because of fear. Giving up was like the Game over in reality, better to restart it than to pull the plug. The warm shore and gust were inviting me to jump into the beach. The cool waves were running like a parade of gravity and a group of chaps were surfing them.

The ladies were in their swimsuits, flaunting their respective figures. Kids were busy making sand castles and flying kites. It was the perfect day to enjoy the sun. If only I can….

“I see you’re looking at the beach again. You want some fresh air, Hale?” Blythe, my mother, asked as she saw me looking out from the window. She was wearing a stained red apron on top of her grey blouse and jeans. Her long brown hair tied in a ponytail and wrinkles were seen below her chestnut eyes, preparing the kitchen table for lunch. Because of the incident, I failed to attend my graduation. I was stuck recovering from the grievances of it. After that, I got my diploma and decided to join my mother in the Philippines, together with her new husband, Jason. It wasn’t bad living with them. Actually, I admired the place, its people and definitely the food. Blythe ensured her care, helping me to adapt this new way of living. I gave her a nod.

She moved to my place, aiding to stir my wheel chair to the terrace.

SALDANG

“You know, you are a lucky young man, Hale. A year ago, Detective Jacobsen found and saved you. Without his efforts, you might have joined your dad. I’ll be forever grateful for his deed.” Frank Jacobsen found me. He shot Rodrick, the drug dealer who happened to be my Dad’s friend. But Rodrick wounded me. The bullet entered behind my left shoulder blade, punctured a lung, and lodged in my spinal canal. Instantly, I was paralyzed. I was able to recover but unable to pick my foot when I regained my senses. I guess serendipity was always on our side.

I felt the refreshing saline air from the beach as it hit my face. “He said that Rodrick was the one who killed Dad. He even saw everything, the reason why Rodrick tried to cut his strings as well.” Blythe positioned the wheel chair to the right side of the terrace. Blythe continued. “I was so fretted when I heard the news that the paramedics found Marley out cold. They’d thought that her pulse was in the flat line when they found her at her room. Thank God she’s now okay,” I was speechless for a minute. All of a sudden, my tongue was tied.

Blythe noticed this, changing the topic. “So Hale… now that you’re paraplegic, I’m expecting no more unexpected troubles, okay? I hope the incident have taught you a very valuable lesson – your father might rise from the dead to join you in your games.” She laughed, feeling her diaphragm shake as it flowed through the wheelchair.

Promise no more troubles for me.” I shrugged, glancing at the view. I wished I could walk again. I wished I could go back to Ohio, to rewind time and correct my mistakes. I wished to be with her. I wished to hold her,talk to her, sway with her and kiss her. She turned out to be the best thing I never had.

Suddenly, the phone rang. Blythe went inside to answer it so I was alone in the terrace. The smell of paradise went through my system.

The air was blowing strong, messing up my hair. The air brought that vibe of relaxation in my senses, feeling to stay in here forever.

SALDANG

Blythe returned carrying the phone. She handled it to me and said. “It’s Tyler. He wants to talk to you.” I received the phone and thanked her.

She swung her fingers, signaling to resume her work in the kitchen.

“It’s Hale. Talk to me,” “Hale! How’s my boy? Are the girls checking you out?”

I noticed that his voice was croaky.

“Ty… remember. My body is half alive. I can’t even walk. So how do you expect me to mingle with them?” “Oh, I always forget that. By the way pal, I just got my admission to NYU!” “Congratulations man! I’m so proud of you,” “Thanks… geez. I’m so nervous.”

“Don’t be, there’s a bunch of hot college girls in New York. They’ll entertain you.” He laughed quietly. His soft gasps echoed in my ear.

“Ye-yeah… definitely, so have you decided what career are you taking?”

“I’m gonna be a writer, man.” “I see boredom helped you there.” He continued his laughter.

“Absolutely, the late night readings made me so fascinated with literature.” Well, I tried to read books during the whole healing process. John Green’s The Fault in Our Stars and Paper towns were my favorites. It had made me understand that life offers you different kind of strings to play with – it all depends on our part whether we’re going to tie or cut it.

I paused for a second and the thought hit me. “Ty… I know this is off topic but… how is she?” I tried to forget her. I tried to move on but her face continued to linger in my memories. She was the one who helped me change. She was the one who gave me my clarity.

“Marley left Ohio two days ago.”

“Wha-what? She left? Why?” I heard soft footsteps, hitting the planks of the terrace. The sound was growing closer. I assumed that it was Blythe coming back to check me out.

But surprising, it wasn’t. I placed the phone on my lap and glanced at the sky. The sun was at its peak, shining bright like an enormous egg. I breathed in. The sweet scent of roses intertwined with the salty air. I felt a different presence in the in the place. The presence made my heart skip a beat.

SALDANG

“I thought you were coming back.” said by the voice that I refused to forget. I turned my wheelchair around to face the company. The dark curls underneath a lilac sunhat and dazzling coffee almond eyes of a divine creature met my gaze. Her presence made my head doubt that it was a hallucination, that it was part of a memory. She shifted closer, flaunting a sunny dress. I remained still in my position.

“I was… but my feet got tired and now they are asleep.” After saying it, I scolded myself. I sounded like my old self again – a douche bag.

I heard her sweet chuckles though, so I guess she was buying it. She dropped her hat and embraced me like a fat teddy bear. I perceived her gasps and felt her drooling tears as she continued to hold me. The scent of roses grew stronger, shifting my hands to release the phone to clasp her tighter. “I was so worried.” She said, looking at my eyes.

“No more guns… just roses.”

I swore to her. She continued her chuckles and held my face, filling the vacant part of a paradise, our paradise – Love.

Pistol Whipped Arjie Castillo Ink On Paper

SALDANG

Glimp

Wendell Cilot Pen and Ink

SALDANG

Ang Hadit Kang Maluyang Pagtubod Kristine Marie B. Arienda

Nata namamatean mo ang kasolohan Digdi sa kadakolang kinaban Kung saen ang Diyos pirming yaon Naghahalat lang sa saimong tugon?

Nata namamatean mo ang takot Sa mga problemang nakadokot Kung yaon man sana si Yahweh dyan Naghahalat sa saimong tingog para matabangan?

Nata namamatean mo ang pagduduwa-duwa?

Sa tahaw nin kadipisilan nag-aapot kung yaon siya.

Dae pa ba sapat an sakripisyo ni Hesus Para maligtas sa kasalan kita gabos?

Ano ang tigkakatakot mo?

Ano ang ikinakamundo?

Dae pa ba sapat ang pagkapako niya sa krus para ang kinaban mag-ogma asin pasalamatan Ang mapagkamoot asin mapagpatawad tang kagurangnan.

SALDANG

With You Odine Raphael M. Areola

Zeal in loving someone like you Eccentric feelings all the way through Right becomes wrong, wrong becomes right Even the darkness comes to light Picturing the world in another point of view

Every moment spent is the best Ecstatic emotions I cannot detest Make me yours forever more I’ll make every second sweeter than before A lifetime with you, I wouldn’t dare protest

Heaven is what I feel with you in my heart Angelic feelings from the start Reason and logic can never define Overflowing sentiments in this heart of mine Distance or time can never hamper A love like ours, made for forever

SALDANG

PHOTO BY ARJIE CASTILLO

PHOTO BY YSHA MORCO

SALDANG

PHOTO BY KARL B. BRIGUERA

SALDANG

PHOTO BY ANGELO FOJAS

PHOTO BY ARJIE CASTILLO

SALDANG

Not How the World Works Alexis Gillan

I want to tell her that I will like who I want to like, regardless of what she thinks, that I will not heed her prejudiced words.

I want to tell my mom that the world doesn’t work the way she thinks it does.

I want to tell her that the length of my hair doesn’t define me, nor do the clothes I wear.

I want to tell her that I am not who she thinks I am, that she has missed so much of my life that she hardly knows the real me.

I want to tell her that her beliefs are outdated, extremely traditional, and sometimes even backwards.

I want to tell her that differences aren’t bad, that divisions shouldn’t be made between people just because they are different.

I want to tell her that gender is not binary, that there are people born not in their preferred form, and that the gender roles she so strictly imposes. are harmful and nothing but a lie.

I want to tell her that she has stifled who I am, she has killed off my creativity and freedom.

I want to tell her to stop subscribing to and perpetrating stereotypes.

Stereotypes that make the world such a constricted and dull place.

I want my mom to know that the world doesn’t work the way she thinks it does, and that I am no longer under the same delusions as she is.

SALDANG

the return to legaspi Arthur Calleja

Breathe it in like no other, the air of old memory, Breathe out the smoke and dust of your lungs.

Let your sighs be soothed with the songs of this city Where the grace of Mayon never leaves you.

Let your soles kiss back the old black soil, The old black elder waiting for your return.

Let your feet walk back to the shell of your soul, Where the grace of Mayon never leaves you.

Take it all in, this silent terminal in, And far away, the cold melody of the sea.

Let your parent’s glee wake your ears again, Where the grace of Mayon never leaves you.

Your inner child must be sleepy, its passions fed Up with running races on the roads of billboard dreams.

Let your passions when weary lay down on the bed, Where the grace of Mayon never leaves you.

The shadows of the earth may cast on our skies, A blindness to mask her splendor enthroned.

Just rest my weary pilgrim, for in time your eyes Will revel in the place Where the grace of Mayon never leaves you.

SALDANG

Pagbaklay Sircen

An sakong pagbaklay padagos giraray Sagkod makaabot sa tunay na buhay Mga kapagalan asin inagrangay Idudulot duman sa Simong pamitsan.

Pag-abot kan banggi sa sakong turungan Isip kong purisaw dagos nagbabaklay Dakula an takot baad mapadungkal Mayo lamang kapwa na sako madamay Pagsaldang kan aldaw sa kasiranganan Biyaya mo Ama, sakong natatanaw, Liwanag na hale sa kaitaasan An nagiging ilaw sa sakong pagbaklay.

Hali sa Ehipto sa luma kong buhay Mga kaluyahan sakong babayaan Kun ako mawara sa tunay na dalan Dai matatakot ta Ika an ilaw.

SALDANG

Hadok sa Liwanag Wednesday Silhouette Pen and Ink

SALDANG

Buzzlight Dazzle D. Azas

Chords: G,G9,Em,C9 Verse 1: As I strum the strings from my guitar I see myself riding a car Wondering where I should be.

Although my heart feels joy when I See their faces from time to time, It’s different when you are with me.

Bridge: When you come home Let’s walk the bay together.

Everything will be on silent mode So you and I can be alone.

Chorus: Just like buzzlight, You and I can go infinity and beyond.

And when the stars shine, Remember me thinking of you all along.

Just like buzzlight.

SALDANG

Verse 2: As I write this song of mine, Til we part still you are mine.

Our love defines eternity.

Although I receive no text, no call, The thought of you fills up them all, The emptiness inside of me.

Bridge: When you come home Let’s walk the bay together.

Everything will be on silent mode So you and I can be alone.

Chorus: Just like buzzlight, You and I can go infinity and beyond.

And when the stars shine, Remember me thinking of you all along.

Just like buzz light.

Just like buzzlight..

SALDANG

Visions of A Nightmare Clara

Sitting at the windowsill hoping for a miracle to happen, John, a nine-year-old kid embraced both his knees as the tears fell down his face.

Silence invaded the four corners of the house. He neither had sibling nor a father but a mother who is now lying on a soft bed beside his room.

His innocence of reality covered him from worrying of being alone in the days to come but his love for his mother let him pondered that everything can’t be undone.

Fear crawled up in his mind possessing his sanity.

Later, darkness would eat again the light that gives courage to the kid where a strong feeling of sorrow would appear sooner.

“John,” a familiar voice caught his attention.

There is no trace of fear in the boy’s heart but a curiosity.

“John.” The familiar voice continuously called his name.

There is no one in the room except for him.

It is a woman’s voice whom he could recognize but not precisely.

“Stop playing with me!” John blurt out as he went to his mother’s bedroom.

“I love you,” said John who is now kneeling while hugging the lifeless woman he loved so dearly. He could not contain his feelings as he wailed.

SALDANG

“I’m sorry.” Those two words kept bugging him since the beginning of something he didn’t know.

Just then, he realized the stains of blood vanquished the white color of his mother’s white dress and the bloody sharp object jabbed at the stomach of his mother’s. And again, the two words emerged from his mouth with a weep.

“John,” the familiar voice distracted him from a woeful condition.

At first, he didn’t mind the voice. But it got louder and louder and it became inevitable.

Fear, nervousness, sorrow, regret and hope merged but a light saved him from drowning to the worst feeling he felt as he slowly opened his watery eyes. The familiar voice had a face at last. He had forgotten for a moment his mother’s voice. He had forgotten how his mother could hug him with worry on her eyes.

Nonetheless, he hugged back the owner of the voice, his light, and his savior.

SALDANG

The Pope Dell

Pencil on Paper

SALDANG

Faith John Xyrus F. Araneta

As time echoes through ages Faith of mankind never changes From the youthful to the senile And the healthy to ill Faith is like a mustard seed It’s size smaller than a bead When nurture and flourished It will be the largest tree ever lived Faith is like a muscle If exercised, it grows strong If left immobile It becomes wear Faith is like kicking a rock And imagining you are punishing it When you are only hurting Yourself Faith is like planting You need to make it grow And hold on until you Get your price you deserve But what is faith really?

Is it believing in the Holy Trinity?

It is trusting someone deeper

SALDANG

Chained Michelle Ann C. Bongat

Breathe out then breathe in Little man, please don’t cry.

Listen to the chained voices of your psyche.

Hear their cries, the aspirations and insights.

Breathe out then breathe in, Little child of wonders and might Fight the chains with your kite, Tame your haunted demons and be a light.

Breathe out then breathe in, Little lady, please make a choice.

Your sight is filled with much noise, Hear the muted ballad and help them rejoice.

Breathe out then breathe in, The world needs you from within.

Free the unsung heroes, the status quo, Be the medium and let it go.

SALDANG

PHOTO BY ROMEO L. DIESTA

SALDANG

Pagsaluhan Natin ang Liwanag ng Buwan Sircen

Pagsaluhan natin liwanag na angkin ng magandang buwan, Siya lang ang saksi ng itinatagong kasinungalingan, Di man magsalita ng pait at hapdi na nararamdaman Pagsaluhan nating sa kanya idaing ang katotohanan.

Pagsaluhan nating itanong sa buwan kung bakit ganoon Alabok na likha ng Iyong kinapal ay di sumang-ayon Gawang paninira ang sa kanyang puso’y laging nakabaon Bakit di naakit sa ilaw ng buwan na handog ng Poon.

Sa dilim ng gabi’y pagsaluhan nating hanapin ang buwan Sa unos ng buhay liwanag niyang taglay ating kailangan Budhing dinalisay ay di maantig anumang sagabal Katulad ng buwang taglay na liwanag ay katotohanan Mapalad ka buwan sadya kang pinanday ng Dakilang Kamay!

Poot ng damdamin ay napaglulubag ng inyong kariktan Paham na makata ay nabibighani’t laging kumakaway Parito’t sasikan ang mga gawain ng sangkatauhan.

Alagad ka ng Diyos na siyang maghahasik ng gintong liwanag Ang mga aral mo ay ang lagi ko namang hinahanap-hanap Dilang masasama nais kang ilagay sa mabatong landas Salamat sa buwan na siyang tumatanglaw sa daanang patag.

Mga suliranin kapit-kamay nating ihain sa buwan Sa dako pa roon Siya’y nakikinig at handang dumamay Kaaway na lihim na lisya ang isip ating ipagdasal Ating pagsaluhang ihingi ng tawad, sa buwan isaysay.

SALDANG

PHOTO BY PAUL MENDIZABAL

SALDANG

X=Y=Z Jape Garrido

The alpha commences through a blade Of grass, of paper drawn by a shade.

Omega shows a reflection of a paid Reality, a perfect society of one’s glade.

Among the bees and wild flowers, Lies the forbidden apple of one’s desire.

Spade echoes a mantra of different colors, Invisible labels made by blue collars.

A shirtless bumble bee is considered hot.

A blooming flower is considered a slut.

A stinging honey bee is considered lucky.

A pollinated floret is considered unlucky.

The beds breathe in the nectar of the empire.

Sweats of black and white going through fire.

All working hard to satisfy the Messiah, The loving Eden and a rancid satire.

As Adam & Eve rule among the garden, Steve enters the patch, from the hidden.

The heir of Eden is seen radiating the prism, Directing it to a pot of gold, the unwritten.

SALDANG

Flesh from Ashes Ilon A. Dela Rosa

He made thee both from ashes.

Male comes first like flashes.

In the night that full of loneliness, Female made next to fullness.

As flesh continued to multiply, Dreams have just set to fly.

Both are eager and secretly rely On each other to equally comply.

Both reached higher and gone further, But no response to God the Father.

Failure comes on the way to top, Nothing to do but to make the pride pop.

Now that everything is falling apart.

Anything pain just to gain The forgiveness to Creator’s heart, Will lead to acceptance once again.a

SALDANG

PHOTO BY

PHOTO BY ARJIE CASTILLO

SALDANG

Y ALLAINE REYES

PHOTO BY TANYA Y. TUAZON

SALDANG

Untitled Shaira Louise Perez

How delighted could you be To rip me apart How tormented should I feel to give you a start?

I wrote you a song, You sang it to her.

I cleaned up the stairwell you escort her up there. my only wish was you and me Was it hard to give?

Was she hard to leave?

You raised your voice up you hate seeing her cry

SALDANG

But when I’m in pain You laugh like my tears were your favorite punchline And in your arms I covet to rest When you opened them They’re full of thorns.

Your tongue is sweet filled with your sugar The kind I’ve never tasted-a poison I’d still take.

Exhausted and tired do you even care?

I’m writing this poem Please.

Don’t let it end here.

SALDANG

Sonnet 2 Jillian Estrellado

As the sun makes its way through the sky Its warmth touches all of mankind And when the day turns gray The thought of you still lingers in my mind You were not supposed to return in kind A folly isn’t meant to stand the test of time A phase to walk through, ties that don’t bind I only wished to be inspired by thine By no means call me yours and not heed your word Do I dare read any sincerity in those tones?

Or maybe a quip for words is only too bold I’d rather cease this innocent game at once.

As a dear friend told me, and still does: “Just enjoy the moment don’t overanalyze.”

SALDANG

PHOTO BY JEPHUNNEH HENKELMANN

SALDANG

PHOTO BY YSHA MORCO

Rosario

Wendell Cilot Pencil on Paper

SALDANG

Betwixt the starry field

A portrait of Jem

Glistening in your iris,

Pencil on Paper

The blued hues of life And chirping I clearly see You bring; the death of many stars in your mesmerizing blink, I find in your eyes a galaxy of angelic things

-JEM

Arjie Castillo

SALDANG

Everlasting Love Justin Rivero

Acrylic on Canvas

SALDANG

WildHeart

Karl B.Briguera Ink On Paper

SALDANG

SALDANG

DIKLOM

Ngayon ang hirap na ngayon na ako ay nalululong Sa paghahanap sayo Sa pakiramdam mo Sa himig ng boses mo na di ko kinasasawaang Hanapin Yakapin Mahalin.

Pero wala, walang wala na ako Ubos na ang pagkatao ko Sapagkat papakawalan ko na ang mga tanong kong Saan, sino, kelan, paano at bakit.

Papakawalan ko na ang sakit.

Papakawalan ko na ang ikaw Ang ako Ang tayo.

Kasi alam natin na nagsawa na tayo Sa pag patawad sa isat isa, Kaya nagsimula na tayo magpaalam Bago umalis.

Pero para san pa ba ang tampo at galit ko, kung Wala ka naman lang dito para pakingan ito Wala ka na sa piling ko Wala ka na sa buhay na to. at kahit sa ano pa man ako magpaka lunod at magpaka malulong Wala parin magbabago.

Kaya ngayon patawarin mo na ako Kasi lipas na ang tukso ko Dahil pinatawad na kita Noong araw na nakita kita sa araw na bumalik ka na Kung saan nagsimula ang makulay na buhay mo.

Dahil.

Nagsimula ang lahat sa mga bagay na patapos na, Dahil lumipas na.

Ikaw, sa pagmamahal mo sa bukhang liwayway, At ako, sa paghintay sa takipsilim ng mga mata mo.

DIKLOM

Ang Ating mga Takipsilim Karl B. Briguera Nagsimula ang lahat sa mga bagay na patapos na, Lumipas na.

Ikaw, sa pagmamahal mo sa bukhang liwayway, At ako, sa pagkalulong sa takipsilim ng mga mata mo Alam mo naman di ba?

Na di ko kayang mahalin sarili ko.

Pero sa pagdating mo minahal kita ng buong buo.

Kaya nakalimutan ko naKung pano magalit sa sarili ko.

Dito.

Kung saan una tayo nagkita, Kung saan naglaho ang liwanag mo Sa bawat luha na nahulog sa mata Kung saan hindi lumisan ang hapdi ng pagpaalam sayo.

Sino?

Sino ang unang nagsabing hindi tayo tatagal?

Ang huling nagsabing mahal kita Sino sa atin ang unang bumitaw?

Sa kalungkutan at kasiyahan na di naman atin.

Kailan?

Kailan ba talaga naging madali?

Konting hirap lang, Binitawan mo na ako, Binitawan mo tayo.

Paano?

Paano na ba yan?

Nagsawa ka na, Ang sabi mong di mauubos ang pagnanais, Pero ang labi mo ngayon ay hawak na ng iba.

Di ba?

Wala naman na dapat pag-usapan na, Kasi bawat araw na masaya tayo Ay di mo na dapat binilang, Dahil sanay naman na tayo di ba sa mga taong nang-iiwan.

DIKLOM

Sophia

Karl B. Briguera Mixed Media

DIKLOM

Wrecked Promise Kenneth Agudo

Day by day I used to remember a promise That we will be forever till the end But things did not work out, we’ve started to bend And I want to ask you ‘Do you feel remorse?’

I had left not because I fall out of love But because it’s veracity to stop and let go I remained hushed in my forlorn rove Missing you silently as I forego As I meander with a broken heart I yearn that someday you’ll realize That what I’ve done is for the sake of us For us to make a new fresh start Don’t be mad about what I’ve done You’ll still remain in my wrecked heart Soon, someday we’ll be complete For the right person we are meant to be

DIKLOM

The fluorescent light above was too harsh.

Deepening the lines around his eyes and mouth, Making him look older and seem a stranger with a face set on a permanent scowl.

She searched his dark eyes for the trace of the person she once knew and loved but found none.

Gasping for breath she struggled to understand what he was saying.

From his lips came every damaging truth she thought about herself His cruel voice slipped into her soul and unearthed her every insecurity Played on her every nagging doubt Gnawing at the flimsy thread that held together her sanity She was about to retaliate but faltered.

She couldn’t bear to look at him again, couldn’t bear to see the shocking hostility in his eyes.

She barely has enough strength to stand while hearing the revulsion in his voice as he snarled every hurtful syllable designed to shatter her heart into a million pieces.

She felt tears stung the back of her eyes.

Thankful they did not spill over not wanting to give him a reason to mercilessly pounce on another one of her weaknesses.

Instead she found her hand connecting squarely on his left cheek Leaving an angry red mark For a moment the beast faltered and the person within emerged with disbelief and shock laced in his face But quickly as if she were just imagining it It was gone.

And with her mouth set with a grim determination she turned to go and let the unknown darkness claim her.

Leaving him steadily gazing at her slowly fading form.

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Vitriol Drip Jane de la Rosas The dawn was about to break.

He sat on the porch cradling a cup of coffee in his hands, thankful for the warmth it offered while tendrils of mist caressed the exposed skin of his face making him slightly shiver in the breeze of the cold early morning.

Pulling the hood of his jacket tighter he thought it was colder today But it was nothing compared to the ice that engulfed in his own heart that night.

He fought valiantly to suppress the thought of what happened but failed.

He could recall it all with shocking clarity.

What malicious creature possessed him to say those horrible words?

It was necessary, however.

It was the only way.

The sting on his left cheek lasted only seconds, but the memory of those soft, warm hands that he once held in his own would forever burn his skin.

And the hurt look on her face as she tried resolutely to digest his appalling words, will never fade from his mind.

He shut his eyes tight as his vision became blurry with tears of pain and guilt.

He shook his head hoping to shake away the memory, and gripped his cup tighter his knuckles turning white.

For a few blissful moments upon waking she had no memory of what happened that night.

Then suddenly she felt icy fingers squeeze her heart at the sudden force of the recollection hitting her.

It all came to her, the cruel cutting words from his mouth, bleak and emotionless, thrown like daggers in her heart bleeding her dry.

All of the pain, the agony and disbelief pierced her anew she clutched at her chest her breath catching in her throat she tried not to burst into fresh tears.

But the memory was not to be denied.

As if malevolently taking a life of its own it started playing in her mind:

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Mayday

Michael Reyster Reyes Digital Art

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Ink // Love Allaine Reyes Digital Art

uerte

iguera Paper

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I once dreamt about my future, But I am now a failure.

I feel so lost and empty.

I am shattered and unhappy.

I am badly wishing for something, Yet, I know I have nothing.

Food and shelter is what I need But no one sees my greed.

I have been stepped down by so many.

They have removed my own dignity.

I don’t want to fight back, For they know what I lack.

I do them a favor for what they want, And still they have the guts to rant.

I know I don’t have enough money, But they don’t have the right to perish me.

I can see myself as a poor man And a puppet of a rich man.

They see me like I don’t even exist, Doing bad things is what I resist.

What I lack Deion Josef C. Samar

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Darkness Kenneth M. Osabal

I made a promise to myself long before, That never again would I write no more, Because I only felt Darkness...

I sit at a crossroads and no matter which way I look, Nor would it matter which direction I took, Because I only saw Darkness...

I await a door to be opened but all remain locked, From any such light my sight seems to be blocked, I can feel the Darkness...

Being a good Samaritan will get you nowhere in this life, Nice guys finish last in my back hangs out a knife, I only see Darkness...

As much as I pray to the Light, There is absolutely no light in my sight, I only see Darkness...

Is the Light truly your friend, Because every day just feels like the end, I feel only Darkness...

Faith, Hope and Love, I could use some help from above, I see only Darkness...

When I search my body for my soul, But think long ago the Darkness has stole, I must have lost it to the Darkness...

I pray but I see no light at the end, I guess that Darkness is my friend, I can feel the Darkness...

In a world of black and white, When that road is the only one that feels right, Time to embrace the Darkness......

La

Karl B Ink on

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Rosario Melissa Mesias

Oh Rosario You are a free spirit walking the dark and hardened streets Abandoned by your mother in a heartbeat Day and night You strain your little feet Just to find some scrap Enough to make ends meet But after some time In your cruel adventure You chanced upon a foreign soul A Humbert in disguise With the promise of bread You trusted Eager to fill your empty belly Instead What you’ve got is tears and pain Consumed by delirium Ended in shame And at the end Nobody searched Nobody cared and no justice prevailed Oh Rosario...

You are a free spirit walking the dark and hardened streets Abandoned by everyone

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Photo by Ysha Morco

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Albeit Pilipino was a part of our curriculum, the Japanese was undebatably more dominant. My studies was a like a malfunctioning disk for it has to stop whenever armistice has lost its effect. It was no good so I decided not to pursue it.

Boom! The Japanese persisted on bombarding our country devastatingly. Planes equipped with weapons overpower the enormous sky like a swarm of lethal bees. Bombs detonated one after another. The attacks were incessant, I cannot contain anymore my waxing anger, what was happening enraged me to my maximum level of tolerance. I cursed the Japanese over and over again. The inhumanity repeatedly registers in my mind- every single destruction and agony they caused me and my family, my countrymen and my country. More than anything else- a childhood scarred with horror.

For four years, the inhumanity continued to domineer, Filipinos endured more slavery and cried bloods; I almost desponded that my dream of a life so blissful and peaceful will ever be turned into reality. Almost. For in 1945, Douglas McArthur returned and redeemed our freedom, as he promised in his remarkable line “I shall return”. Blessedness and relief filled the air and I found myself yelling with the other Filipinos, “Hey Joe!”, which was the only English phrase we knew at that time. I was full of blithe when the Americans abounded us with chocolates, dried apples and canned goods. The Liberation Day was indeed a joyful day- an end of our enslavement and the portal to a new beginning.

The horrors of hostilities still register in my mind, still stir fright and anger; nevertheless, the grievances of the past must be left behind and we must live the present the best way possibleleaving the bad memories behind but carrying their lessons in our minds.

Once again, I am here under the shade of the mighty trees producing a soothing chill from the quivering of their leaves, just like that fair-weathered day when everything started. “Ester, where are you my dear?” my husband called.

“There should be no war anymore; you don’t know how it feels to be in a war zone. Instead, we must preserve peace that we have now - it has been an impossible dream to Filipinos who risked their lives before”.

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A blend of ardor and anxiety rushed throughout my body, I want to see the city once again after like a lifetime of hiding but I got a feeling it is not yet safe, the wind still whispers cries of horror in my ears making me shiver. What I was afraid of actually happened.

“Dorobo!” A Pilipino-Tago, Pilipino-Turo bellowed, Japanese soldiers are throughout the perimeter of the market running after Dorobos. My mother asked me to buy soy sauce in the market- in one hand I clutched the bottle of the soy sauce and on the other a bayong full of Mickey Mouse Money is weighing me down. The cry of the burglar startled me. Minutes later, Filipinos were already running for their lives, for safety, my frail body began to tremble- losing grip of the no-good bundles of paper. I must be home.

Safety, Home. Run, Ester, Run! I kept mumbling to myself. I ran hastily as I can as if commanding the wind to lug me home. Upon reaching our insecure abode, my mother immediately yanked me and placed my head underneath our sturdy table. Only our frangible heads are concealed from the eyes of the soulless menace, our shuddering bodies still visible. I can hear the hollering Hapons outside who are searching every house for Dorobos. Suddenly, my vision blurred, a picture of a younger me reverted to my mind- I was in an old church together with other children who are blubbing fearfully. It was when we were still living in the mountains when I was fatefully captured by some Japanese soldiers, the latter threatened the Dorobos that if they will not surrender, they will kill each one of us- no mercy, no exemption, leaving the poor Dorobos with no other choice than to deliver their lives to their relentless captors.

Now, I am caught in the same life or death situation. Thank God the soldiers set out eventually; whether the Dorobos have been captured or were able to flee, not a word passed the mouths of the people in our refuge community.

Months after the appalling incident and whilst a truce is in effect, I went to a Poblacion, tantamount to a school, where Filipino mentors educated us. Neither our education was salvaged from the Japanese invasion, we count in Japanese numbers , “ ichi , ni , san, si , no , goko , sansi ”. The language taught to us is Nihonggo and we reluctantly sing Japanese songs, “ Miyo-toko, ah oso … ” .

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Our parents were more downhearted upon knowing that some treacherous Pinoys betrayed their own blood and race, the Pilipino-Tago, Pilipino-Turo; they lead the Japanese Army to the hide-outs of the alleged “Dorobos” - a thief in Japanese . The burglars are men in hat with red cloth concealing their faces who point out wanted ‘Dorobos’ , suspected spies and asserted thieves. Once seized, Dorobos are agonized through cruel execution; their thumbs are tied together in a suicidal manner and are slowly lifted upwards until the same are flimsy enough to burst out of rich blood.

One starry night, my father was caught by the Hapons because of his possession of a Petromax, a lamp which enlightened not only our house but also my hope of being freed from the horrors of hostilities. We knew it is illegal but my father loves as so much he cannot allow the darkness to aggrandize the dread slowly consuming us. My mother was so afraid that our dearest father might be killed by the Japanese army; to our surprise, he returned unscathed, still carrying his lamp and with that, we locked in a large embrace.

I never had any idea how my father survived or negotiated with the ruthless soldiers but what mattered most was that he was safe.

The Japanese army has been steadfast in their search for Dorobos. The enslaved and abducted Filipinos have been innumerable.

Some are confined in ‘Garrisons” like hospitals. Lo! Countless innocent young ladies, better-known as Comfort Women, were abused by lascivious and merciless Japanese men. Checkpoints pervaded everywhere and when we meet Japanese soldiers we must bow and show respect or else, guns or bats will pitilessly hit our fragile heads. I can’t bear it anymore, any moment I want to blurt out all my abhorrence and curses for the Japanese. My juvenile mind learned to anathematize, which was not appropriate and morally good for me, however, who can say that I am blameworthy? With all the inhumanity my crystal clear eyes can witness and my keen mind can retain? Blood gushes with revulsion through my nerves.

We deserted the mountains, which served as our haven for a relatively long time, when the Japanese declared an ‘Open City’

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Horrors of Hostilities Karen Daniele Besmonte

Dorobo!

Run, Ester, Run. I can hear my heart thumping like any moment it’s about to burst, I struggled to stay on my feet; I just have to run away from the threat and reach our refuge. I felt the wearisome devouring all my strength. Who won’t be exhausted? Living every day in nightmare- a life so lifeless. Things have been this way since that one fair-weathered day, when I and my younger brother were relishing the cold and soothing wind of the mighty trees, bursting into laughter feeling that it was the last time we can do it, indeed it was the last in years.

It was December 2 of 1941, colossal ships bombarded Pearl Harbor and in no time, Philippines was freed from the Americans in exchange for falling in the hands of ruthless conquerors. Filipinos ran for salvation, hiding as far as possible, fortunate Manileños fled to the provinces. On the other hand, those who were left in the city were whipped by the first lash of slavery. The fear in my parents’ voice penetrated in my being- breaking my heart and enveloping my senses in dread. We flee to far mountains where the enormous forest casted an invisible shield for our protection. Life was never the same, the wind felt arid; the quivering leaves seem to share with our horror, the sun once so glorious struck our eyes with torment and melancholy. Much more was the night which felt like an abyss of insecurity and fear; my father had to stay awake to make sure we are safe. Fright and living have been inseparable.

Tidings reached our refuge that houses in the cities were set on conflagration, leaving nothing but ashes to the famished and tormented Filipino families. Some of our fellows were captured, imprisoned and enslaved. At a very young age, I find it arduous to process everything I can hear, see and feel. I’m only seven- an innocent and petty young girl ideating a life of peace and bliss; nonetheless, I can’t do anything, fate have brought us to this situation for whatever reason.

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Mary Jane Jape Garrido So I lay down on the cold pavements of Paradise, hoping for the world to stay still for a moment, for it to stop and escape life from its malady.

I breathe in slowly as I watch my spouse step on my hand.

He is stuck in a childish argument with his workmates over Mary Jane. This rumble disturbs Paradise, which is known for their silence. They are punching each other like toys, numbed by anger and the dangerous embrace of ethyl. Every attack becomes an illusion of fear to me. Every moment becomes my undertaker to the grave.

I can feel the tears coming out but I remain motionless, like my body decided to be paralyzed at the scene. I know that I am not dead. I can’t be. I’m trying to mold my hand for a fist but I just can’t. Everything is just not right. Mary Jane, oh dear sweet little Mary Jane why?

The night sky continues it luminosity. The stars are blazing like diamonds. The ground bathes me with dirt, not wanting for my body to decompose like the countless dead buried here.

I glance once more to the sky and the darkness swallows my senses. I can sense a wail coming, tears falling owning the night. But it isn’t mine. It is my son’s.

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Photo by Karl B. Briguera

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Cut

Sidney Montas Pen and Ink

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Obscure Mind Dazzle D. Azas

As humans we are, We are vulnerable to the darkness that lies among us.

It’s funny how we’re easily corrupted.

But once we’re infected, The pathogen of this disease just keeps on spreading.

It can never be destroyed, Like there is no absolute cure.

Some wonder, “Why cure it?

We could just tag along and live without chains.”

We are daunted for so long, By the fact that there is no going back.

We can choose to be free.

But some chose not to.

And death was what welcomed them.

Tied up on a rope, We would make anything of ourselves.

And if we’re told, We would even kill.

The obscurity of the mind And the ideas we get from it is infinite.

It’s horrifying.

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Photo by Paul Mendizabal

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Dug! Nagdilim ang paligid ni Ernesto. Paggising niya ay gumuhit sa kanyang isipan ang marikit na mukha ng kanyang asawa; ngunit, bakas sa mukha nito ang pag-aalala at ilang araw na kakulangan sa pahinga. Sa tabi ng kanyang irog ay nakaratay sa higaan ang isang batang halos hindi niya makilala, humihiyaw sa sakit at pilit na humihingi sa kanya ng tulong. “He’s awake�, ani ng isang Malaysian na pulis at pinukaw ng tinig ang kanyang totoong kalagayan- nasa loob siya ng istakel at tiyak na hindi lamang isang araw o isang linggo ang itatagal niya sa kulungan.

Paano na si Samuel? O aking Samuel, nais ko mang mulang masilayan ang mala-anghel mong mukha anak at maipadama ang aking walang humpay na pagmamahal, ngunit, paano? Sawi ako, bigo, nagdurusa. Hinihintay ang nakaambang kamatayan ng aking anak, ang hinagpis ng aking mahal, at ang kalungkutang babalot sa akin hanggang kamatayan sa likod ng rehas ng aking istakel.

Bayani ba akong maituturing, sa aking bayang ginigiliw? O di hamak na mas tamang ako ay taguriang isang sawing bayani?

Ceasfire

Michael Reyster Reyes Digital Art

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“Pangako, limang taon lamang at babalik rin ako. Limang taon lamang”.

Bigo si Isabel na baguhin ang desisyon ng kanyang kabiyak. Wala na siyang ibang nagawa kundi hilingin sa asawa na ipangako ang kanyang kaligtasan. Magdamag na nagdasal si Isabel, tuliro at bakas ang pag-aalala sa asawang kasalukuyang nasa dagat ng buhay at kamatayan, kalayaan at pagkakabilanggo at katuparan o kasawian ng kanilang mga pangarap.

Labis ang tuwa ni Isabel nang tumawag ang kanyang si Ernesto na ligtas itong nakaabot ng Malaysia.

Lumipas ang apat na taon at tulad ng naipangako ni Ernesto kay Isabel ay lumaki ang kanilang ipon para sa magandang kinabukasan na kanilang pinakaaasam. Ngunit naging madalang na ang komunikasyon ng mag-asawa, hindi rin nakakauwi ng Pilipinas si Ernesto sa pangambang hindi na siya makabalik ng Malaysia. Hindi niya maaaring iwan ang kanyang trabaho ngayon lalo na’t halos isang taong sahod na niya sa Pilipinas ang sinasahod niya sa kasalukuyan sa loob lamang ng tatlong buwan.

Isang araw ay nagulat si Ernesto nang makatanggap ng hindi inaasahang tawag mula sa asawa.

“Mahal ko, si… si…. si….Saam-muel, nahimatay siya at sinugod namin sa ospital. Ang sabi ng doktor, may brain tumor daw siya at kailangang operahan”, sambit ni Isabel sa garalgal na tinig.

“Anu? Paanong?Mahal ko, hindi ba dapat uuwi na ako ngayong taon?

Paano na ito? O sige, maghahanap ako ng isa pang trabaho, wag kang mag-alala”, pagsisigurado ni Ernesto sa asawa.

Labis ang nadamang hignapis ni Ernesto. Ang kanyang munting Samuel, may sakit at hindi niya man lamang mayakap ang kanyang unico hijo. Ngunit kung inakala ni Erning na sapat na ang narinig niyang masamang balita, ay nagkamali siya.

“Erning, uuwi na kami ng Pinas. Naghihigpit ngayon ang Malaysia. Lahat ng mahuhuli na TNT ay makukulong”, ani Ben. “Pare, gustuhin ko man pero hindi maaari. Si Samuel, may sakit si Samuel, kailangan ko siyang mapaoperahan”, pagmamatigas ni Ernesto.

Umalis na nga ng Malaysia sina Ben at naiwan si Ernesto na nag-iisa. Sinubukan niyang maghanap pa ng karagdagang trabaho ngunit bigo siya. Isang gabi habang pauwi na sa kanyang tinutuluyan, ay may nakasalubong siyang mga pulis.

Agad siyang lumiko ngunit, may pulis din sa kalsadang iyon. Ramdam niya ang nakaambag panganib at dali-dali siyang tumakbo.

“Para kay Isabel, Para kay Samuel”, binubulong niya sa kanyang sarili habang kumakaripas ng takbo. Matulin man si Ernesto ngunit mas matulin ang patrol car ng mga pulis.

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Sawing Bayani Karen Daniele Besmonte

Lulan ng isang lumang bangka ay nakarating din ng Malaysia si Ernesto.

“Ito na, ito na nga ang katuparan ng aming mga pangarap”, ang kanyang nasambit nang bumaba na siya sa kanyang sinakyan na bangka mula sa Pilipinas.

Halos isang araw din silang naglakbay sa malawak na karagatan, sa pag-iingat na mahuli ng mga rumorondang Coast Guard.

Isang taon ding inaasikaso ni Ernesto ang mga dokumentong kailangan para makapagtrabaho sa Malaysia bilang isang Computer Engineer. Nanindigan siya na kailangang dumaan sa tamang proseso sa kabila ng panghihikayat ng kanyang mga kaibigan na sumakay na lamang ng bangka patungong Malaysia.

“Delikado. Paano na lamang sina Isabel at ang aking si munting Samuel kung may masamang mangyari sa akin?” katwiran ni Ernesto.

“Magtiwala ka sa amin, ligtas ito liban na lamang kung malasin at mahuli tayo. Sinasabi ko sa’yo Erning, ito na ang pinakamadaling paraan. Aabutin lamang ng ilang buwan ang mga dokumento mo at papatungan lang iyon ng mga bagong aplikasyon. Iyon ay kung hindi ka mag-aabot sa mga kinauukulan”.

Hindi nagpatinag si Ernesto, matiyaga siyang pumila at nagpabalik-balik upang kumustahin ang kanyang aplikasyon ngunit, tulad nga ng pagtitiyak ng kanyang kaibigan ay walang progreso sa kanyang mga dokumento. Isang taon na ang nakalipas at wala pa rin. Tumitindi na ang kanyang pangangailangan na mangibang-bayan upang makapagtrabaho. Nauubos na ang kanyang naipon mula sa dating trabaho at hindi niya nais na magkautang. Mabigat man sa kalooban ay kinausap niya ang kanyang kabiyak na si Isabel, upang ipagbigay-alam ang kanyang desisyon.

“Mahal ko, alam kong hindi ka papayag ngunit isipin mo ang kinabukasan ng ating anak. Ikaw rin, nais kong mabigyan ka ng magandang buhay. Higit na maganda ang oportunidad na naghihintay sa akin sa Malaysia, tinitiyak kong magiging ligtas ako. Isipin mo na lamang na walang nangyaring masama kina pareng Ben, isang taon na sila doon”, pagpupumilit ni Ernesto.

“Ngunit mahal ko, higit mong isipin ang kinabukasan namin kung kami ay iiwan mo. Paano ka maalala ng anak mo e isang taong gulang pa lang siya ngayon? Hindi rin ako magiging masaya sa mga padala mo kung wala ka rin sa tabi ko”, paliwanag ni Isabel na pilit na pinipigilan ang paghagulhol.

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One the Mute Michael Molina

in truth, in vain is this, the pierce the pain to one the mute to lover, to saint –disdain ‘tis love a calf, the inwards remain mum’s the word, the beggar’s gain the littlest the distance the most the pain the bitter the inwards slain ‘tis best, ‘tis the sweetest regain for alas! it’s in, the feelthe master’s gain

Photo by Allaine Reyes

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Somatic - Irony Kristine Marie B. Arienda

A sight not seen in darkness.

A touch not felt in pain.

A voice not heard in silence.

A warmth not felt in cold rain.

But why do I only feel trapped, so isolated.

Like a man alone a hill who cries unrelented

But why does it only seem like I’m living a lie.

A mean for a selfish dream when useless , left to die.

I walk by a bustling crowd with greetings and white smiles.

Together we laugh so loud that tears run down my eyes

I am surrounded by men who offer helping hands who tells me “We’re here” and then give a confident glance.

But why do I only see colours in monotone?

A sight like the winter sea, so cold and so alone

I am surrounded by men who offer helping hands who tells me “We’re here” and then give a confident glance.

I can look at the azure sky and breathe the outside air.

I can look at its blue white dye as the wind caressed my hair.

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Photo by Jape Garrido

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Photo by Tanya Y. Tuazon

Photo by Kenneth Osabal

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Photo by Romeo Diesta

Photo by Romeo Diesta

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Behind the Sbadows Ralph Orense

My silence doesn’t mean that I don’t know a thing.

Choosing to follow doesn’t mean I’m not leading.

I am surveying the territory, patiently waiting.

It all starts with a pawn, before he becomes king.

I seem to ignore every word, phrase, or sentence.

That’s my way of showing the length of my patience.

I can always snap, who knows? Stuff happens.

But right now, I’m keeping a very subtle presence.

Smiles can fool, eyes can mislead, that I’m aware.

I don’t easily fall into traps or illusions, so beware.

My observation can prove whose soul I shall spare.

I’m playing the game wisely, but I am still fair.

I trust my emotions, but my instincts are strong.

I can easily find out when something is wrong.

I have the patience to wait, no matter how long.

Just to find out the defect of a story or song.

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Ghost Melissa Mesias

In the bed I lay, As I feel your phantom fingers play The strings in my heart To awake like flame.

Your gentle caress Undress my soul Making me feel the winds from the artic pole.

And yet...

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Karukhaan Dito sa Pinas Sheena Mae R. Bobier Nakawan dito, Nakawan doon.

Patayan rito, Pandaraya roon.

Isang kahig, Isang tuka.

Walang sahig, Pinto’t bintana’y nakabukaka.

Minsan pa sa mesa’y,a Magkakaharap sila.

Mainit na sabaw sa tasa, Kadalasa’y sapat na sa kanila.

Mga kabataan raw Ang pag-asa ng bayan.

Mag-aral araw-araw Para buhay ay gumaan.

Maraming gumagradweyt taon-taon, Ngunit bakit tambay lang sa kanto?

Sa kolehiyo ay nagbuno ng ilang taon, Trabaho naman pala ay kulang rito.

is a ghost of you.

Gasgas man na mga linya, Ana ng mga matatanda.

Paulit-ulit na ipinapaalala kaya, Marahil totoo nga yaring mga tanda.

The howls of the wolves Filled my ears, reminding me of What I have..

Kaya ang iba’y lumuluwas ng bansa, Sa labas ay nakikipagsapalaran.

Nagpapaalila sa mga karatig-bansa, Sakaling mabago ang kanilang kapalaran.

Ilang sitwasyon sa Pinas, Bunga ng laganap na kahirapan.

Maraming nais magpumiglas, Tila yata walang takas.

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Photo by Jape Garrido

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I was never Hazel Bermundo I was never cool Patience left my soul Tempers always turn Sounded bursting horn A hardheaded you see As scorching thing on everybody No one gets a reply As questions define alibi I was never lovely Neither cute nor sounded baby Just a plain ordinary me Nothing special mixed in my artery It’s really hard to believe That a chap like you could be deceived My never acquired charm would impart Qualities that you like, I never had.

In silence I thrive, isolated Never noticed, always disconnected Together with my thoughts I choose to be Reliving life in my own fantasy Of all the things that I could’ve been Versions of me I would’ve proudly seen Every piece of me I would give away Recourse to mingle with others each day Shame and embarrassment are my opponents Instinctual awkwardness, my greatest torments On every moment my thoughts run free Nothing’s greater than myself for company.

Introversion Odine Raphael Areola

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Photo by Jephunneh Henkelmann

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Carpal Tunnel Arthur Calleja I type away my life into this black protruded sea Its gentle waves glint with my lunacy White letters, fallen stars and fallen spit from the tongue of humanity’s poetries Its echoes CRASHing, splashing from my fingers Into a drowning Titanic, a shipWRECK of broken words TORN apart by the iceBErg TEaRing aPArt my nerVES teNDOnS MUSCLES Yet I type.

This beat poetry a BREAKing of my BOdy’s hourglass into SHARDS I inJECT into my JOINTS while DROOLING AND BITING MY LIPS Yet I type.

This utopia SO BRIGHT it is a civil WAR of GRENADES and BAYoNEts and SHRIekS and BROKen BONES AND SO MUCH BLEEDING AND GANGRENE Yet I type. And rest.

These fingers my cyber tongue and it is finally broken Like the rest of my seat-dependent body -- a shell to be outmoded Like my processor-augmented brain -- a gadget to be discontinued And shelved away with nearsighted eyes and hunched spines in the warehouse of recyclables below the earth Let my microbial slaves patch me once again, So I may continue this only life I type away.

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Photo by Allaine Reyes

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Tinig ng mga Hugis Ralph Orense

Ang sabi ng bilog: Gugulong, gugulong, Ibabaw ang handog, Oras na sumulong.

At ang parisukat: Ihanap, ihanap, Aling mukhang tapat Ang talagang harap?

Parihabang wika: Tataas, tataas, H’wag lamang magbanta Ang halang na patas.

Sabi ng tatsulok: Magpares, magpares, Ngunit nasa tuktok Ang talagang tulis.

Magkamukhang kabyak At lingid ang tulis: Magyakap, magyakap: Ay! Puso ang hugis!

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SALDANG

ACKNOWLEDGMENT

As the sun sets and the moon ascends As the night fades and the day commences AQUINIAN HERALD would gratefully recognize The beautiful people who helped them find These literary masterpieces that they have compiled.

The shadows of doubts were lifted by the aid Of these devoted professors who made Their literary treasures light as bright as ever For their students and peers to ponder: John Richard Moreno & Sircen Basilla Angelica Sajuela & Michael Molina.

The search for this flight was a ride to remember Thanks for the students and personnel who rendered Their time and efforts for them to share Their magnus opus – a true work of art An indirect glimpse from their hearts Above all, we offer this to the Almighty Father The source of light and dark, the true Giver Without Him there is no SALDANG + DIKLOM And through Him we offer this body of work To YOU

AQUINIAN HERALD

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