PREMIOS MAREJADA 2020: HEALING

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VOL. XIX NO.1

COPYRIGHT 2020

Marejada is the official annual literary folio of Ateneo de Zamboanga University Copyright reverts to the individual authors and artists whose works appear in this folio. No part of this folio may be published or reproduced in whatever medium without the written permission of the copyright holder.

THIS PUBLICATION IS NOT FOR SALE. email: beaconpublications@adzu.edu.ph

Cover Artwork by Ma. Sofia Carro Falcasantos Layout and Book Design by Shamy Rasma Jailani Stephanie Gwen Toribio

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Foreword

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FOREWORD Healing presumes a period of struggle. It is when sleep is almost alien, a family problem that seems inescapable, a mental state of pure abstraction, a cold war with someone we value, or a telenovela in which both the protagonist and the antagonist are us. The list goes on. But where tattered surfaces are, light seeps through.

A struggle, be it personal or world-scale, takes many forms. In the same virtue, and so we smile, healing is no different. It can be the fluff of our pillow as it kisses the back of our head, our nape, electrifying our entire anatomy, after finally reaching the decision that we deserve sleep in a 4 am cramming. It can be the sound of footsteps of a true friend as we stare in despair somewhere, who cares even, knowing that a letter made its way to our class card. It can be one of those under-the-moon sensibilities, the stars as they wave hi and hide again beneath the horizon. It can be as quick as a sunset, or as long as a lifetime. It can be the presence of a person, or the absence of another. It can come from us, or it can come from others.

Healing can be anything. And as the Milky Way bids its last goodbye, an equal spectacle invites our attention: the sunrise, the morning dews as they decorate anything glossy, the chirps of birds as they sing to this dead Earth the song of resurrection. Breathe. We shall overcome. We shall heal.

In this 2020 issue of Marejada, we present to you the theme of “Healing�, for what else is more pressed for the calling? The world as ill reveals in many faces, and may not we indulge in the rumination that there is hope? Therefore, let be the words here our witness.

Shariful mansul marejada curator

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table of c ontents

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Poetry

A Cliff that Heals

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The Living Masterpiece

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Staccato

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Sa Isang Iglap

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Effloresced Lacerations

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Hoy Parekoy

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The First Step

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The Best Part

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‘Di Niyo Alam

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Mapasaakin Ka Na Sana

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The Unwavering Soliloquy 15

A poem to my brave self

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But First, Healing

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The Rope and the Chair

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Silent Battles

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Para kay Rafael

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Unsent letter to Vergel

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Hyakutake

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Flickers

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Wandering Love

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Combusted Gaslights

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An Open Letter

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A Silent Scream

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Rose turned Red

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Bukang-Liwayway

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An open letter to the demons inside my head

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Short Story Lost in Space

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Essay Liwanag at Mata

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At least, for myself

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Photography Seaside Spirit

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Recuperación

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Refulgence of Hope

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Digital Art Continue

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Fully Loaded

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It’s Okay To Start Again Puedes Llorar Children’s Play

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Traditional Art Let Only Light In

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Under the Weather

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Even Broken Ones Grow

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Bloom

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The Art of Healing

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Heal Through Time

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Perfectly Imperfect

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spread fo

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Poetry

or poetry

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A Cliff that Heals

By: Lacson F. Usman Jr. The night ends but the day still looks dark The morning breeze feels colder The sunlight seems painful rather than pleasing That waking up feels like I never slept My body is numb but still feels the pain My body tired and my head hurts from all the thoughts Eyes dried of tears Ears tired of my own voice Staying feels suffocating And walking away gives a sense of relief Living any longer feels imprisoning That dying feels free Everything looks so dull No colors seen other than gray And black looks tempting than scary Life no longer seems worth it

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One place does exist that does all the trick for me While looking far across the infinite Where taking an extra step means freedom And falling is to be embraced by warmth unknown Standing there a step before oblivion All I see is, but a horizon that smiles for me The sound of the waves drowning every thought And the breeze that holds me tight There I saw what the place truly was, it was a place of tranquility It’s a place where my eyes see colors again My cheeks felt the warmth of my tears and where I can hear myself once more It is nothing but a place to heal It never meant to give what we think we need It’s a place for us to realize the truth The truth that we create the darkness we see The truth that life amidst all is still worth living

Staccato By: Sharmaine Canama Will the moon still smile for a tiny little lie?

Will the sky still cry for a tiny little love?

When daylight has no sun, when the night has no stars, and when sonnets became lullaby the sky gravely cry.

A heart nowhere to find, a soul nowhere to bind mumbles a lasting silence trapped within the realms of time.

My dead heart decayed in this cold solid ground where rocks slept sick and flesh chased as meat.

Sometimes the sky cries with me and sometimes the moon smiles to me.

If I lie Will you walk by?

Will you say hi?

Will you try?

If I die Please walk by Please say hi Just please try

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Effloresced Lacerations By: Marianne Julia R. Feliciano Times are tough, malevolent waves are approaching, The pendulum shattered the crystalline glass apart.

Pellucid children pranced on the warm membrane, Rose petals stumbled upon the delicate branch.

A lethal flamenco performance is standing afoot, The shards and petals gyrated viciously.

Agitated as it seems, it looked egregious.

Flagitious with the stare of a slither eye.

The clock ticked at midnight, The grotesque show is over It was a deplorable exhibition with a rancorous atmosphere, With rufescent leaflets sprawled on trenches A lily bloomed between the trench, Pristine as it seems, it symbolizes hope.

As the time went throughout the years, A garden of lilies bloomed from the agonized lesions.

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The First Step

by Lacson F. Usman Jr. Everything we go through Is brought about by something And everything that is bound to happen Dictates our fate upon how we act on it All the highs and lows All that comes and goes They happen to us for reasons we may not know This, a reality, we must accept, something to comprehend To move forward We must seek to know where we stand To learn something new We first admit what we don’t know To climb up We know we are at a low To shed tears We are aware that we aren’t okay Like so in healing, to do so We must accept the hurt we feel to act is to acknowledge the reason behind it And to accept is a hurdle we must pass

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‘Di Niyo Alam

by Jaymee B. Brigole Nandito na naman ako Sa sitwasyong magulo Sumasakit na ang aking ulo Kakaintindi sa lahat ng kaganapang ito.

Ako’y nalulungkot Sa mga bagay na ako’y nasasangkot Bakit ba palagi na lang ganito?

Mahapdi na ang aking puso.

Madalas naiisip ko Kulang pa ba kabaitan ko?

Ginagawa ko naman lahat ng gusto niyo Sana nama’y pahalagahan niyo ito.

Ang hirap maging ako, alam niyo?

Yung tipong ikaw ang palaging dehado Hindi naman sa nagrereklamo Pero yun ang totoo.

Intindihin niyo naman ako Pagod na ako sa lahat ng ito Ayoko na, tama na Sarili ko na naman ngayon ang mauuna.

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Masamang magalit, alam ko yan Pero masisisi niyo ba ako, Kung yan ang aking nararamdaman?

Pasensiya na, tao rin ako na nasasaktan.

Gusto ko nang sumuko Lahat sana’y maglaho Damdamin ko’y naghahari Di mapigilan ang pighati.

Huwag kayong mag-alala Malakas ako, hindi magpapadala Sa lahat ng suliranin na inaalala Sapagkat buhay ko’y mahalaga.

Ako man ay nahihirapan Pipilitin kong makayanan Naiintindihan ko naman Dahil nga, “Di niyo alam.”

The Unwavering Soliloquy

by Marianne Julia R. Feliciano Sirens drummed in our psyche, An individual’s unsung rhythmic intuition.

We exist in this monochromatic simulation.

Noir et blanc is what we witnessed from our lenses.

A rose-stained kaleidoscope has been blemished, Blemished by the slice of reality and nihilism.

Everything can be monochromatic, But ourselves have our own scintillating soliloquy

But first, healing

Shattered noir et blanc lenses may puncture our vivid perspectives, Yet, our unwavering voice is still in us.

The taste of agony may be spiteful, There will always be our conscience making an effervescent reminder.

Scars be hidden, bruises be healed Flames be burned out, blood be washed out No matter how shattered the rustling leaves may be, Lend an ear to your soul and sail through the needle’s eye.

by Jaymee B. Brigole It was beautiful, I saw myself at the seashore Watching the waves rolling as it satisfied the warm sand’s thirst There I was, feeling the heat of the sun touching my skin It didn’t bother me, I loved it.

I raised my hand up to the blue sky Feeling the fresh ocean air blowing through my hair I listened to the music that the leaves made for they too were blown

I stood up and then at that moment I knew I wanted to be free I closed my eyes and said, “But first, healing.”

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Silent Battles

by Jesamae Cristobal Empty stares, dry laughter and pasted smiles We live in a world of charade and childish wiles A real-time play of characters hiding fear and pain When all the heart wants is to seize and find Another calloused hand, marked by scars that can bind

For appearances do lie We’re stuck in a movie of pretense and show We walk around like prancing clowns Trying to believe that life is a glorified joke Yet we all fight silent battles An everyday struggle to keep the mask on

Through glassy eyes, I look at you and I see A raging battle boiling within Your pain is not nothing, not diminutive in my eyes It demands to be felt as it touches the fringes of my being Meet me here outside the curtains, Another broken soul

But healing starts at the edge of a choice To open one’s eyes and to let the covers fall So why don’t you shed that failing armor?

Find another lone fighter, And see that silent battles need not be fought alone.

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Unsent letter to Vergel

by Andrea Anding Pag gising sa umaga, naisipang bumangon sa kama. Tulad lang ng mga nakaraang araw, ginagawa ang mga nakasanayan ngunit hindi ka na kasama.

Lahat ng mga bagay ay nagbago, dati nasisilayan ko pa ang iyong mata na kay ganda, habang hawak-hawak mo ang aking kamay hanggang sa katagalan oras ay tumatakbo ikaw naman ay unti-unti nang naglalaho na parang kailan lang ipinangako mo sa akin ang mundo.

Ilang araw kong napagtanto kung ano ba ang pagkukulang ko sa ‘yo. Sa una, nahirapan akong kumbinsihin ang matigas kong ulo na hindi na ako ang mahal mo. Nahirapan ang puso kong tanggapin ang mga ito.

Ngunit nakita ng aking mga mata na masaya ka na sa piling ng iba, napaisip ako na kahit sa loob ng maikling panahon ako’y lubos na naging masaya at sapat na iyon para pasalamatan ka.

Hihilom lang ang mga sugat kung ang sarili ay handa nang harapin ang lahat at sa panghuling araw na nakita kita, ang tanging lumabas sa aking isipan ay ipalaya ang mga alaalang kasama ka upang ang sarili ko rin ay mapalaya ko na.

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Flickers

by Alanna Michelle Escudero Like spilled ink it stretched out into a monster.

Midnight dripping like blood, My own shadow has come to take me.

Its outstretched hands taunting cold fingers squeezing, choking, I am suffocating.

Breath caught, gasping for life.

Like pretty porcelain dolls, waxed, polished and shining.

Yet the insides are dark and hollow, such a fragile being the little cracks are showing.

Something is rotting inside of me, laughter and smiles, a facade, corrupted by sneering whispers.

I am forced to lie, to be pretentiously strong, While I crumble inside, feeling so small.

The shadows come, they mock me With glares and sneers, Coldness surrounds me.

Like poison the shadows have disarmed me, They are breaking me, piece by piece.

The porcelain mask shatters.

A glimmer of light appears, the dawn from a flickering flame, a burning candlewick.

The shadows cower away from the shining hope.

With eyes fixated on its glory, it shone with a warm melody, angelic and pure.

My heart resonates with the hues of her glowing light.

The shadows forgotten, my hands reach out wanting to feel its warmth.

With unsteady fingers, a touch, and it burns with blinding light.

With eyes squinted shut, a gasp escapes from dry lips.

Blink awake, a voice echoes from nothingness.

The flames disappeared, the shadows vanished.

The warmth crept inside of this breaking creature, and healing its wounds.

A pulse, a genuine smile, a contagious laughter.

Hope from smallest flicker of light, burning brighter, nurturing and healing, the heart of the one who was consumed by shadows.

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Combusted Gaslights

by Marianne Julia R. Feliciano Fallen miasma, Spilled thy birse Vociferating noise, Ravaged thy psyche Ambushed conscience, From the howl of detestation Sulked inside the enflamed maelstrom, Detrimental sanity has been emerged.

It all went caliginous, Unkempt turmoil within the thoughts.

Withdrawal from the sane perception At the tip of the stake, saneness has been impaled Manipulated upon the puppeteer strings of strangulated enclosure, While pacing on the afflictive thorns of repugnance Exhaustion from the existential chaos, Scars from lashed ferocity shall be sanative from gaslighting.

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A Silent Scream

by Jaymee B. Brigole Please listen for I am about to tell you something painful but real Please don’t leave before I have even said a word This may take a while for I am still constructing the pieces Please be patient, because I haven’t been for a while now Can you hear me?

If you can’t, Look into my eyes, act as if you understand me Calm my screaming soul

Bukang-Liwayway

by Brynah Nikole B. Sojor

Sumisikat na naman ang araw At lubos kong naalala’y ikaw.

Sa bawat ngiti mo ako’y nasisilawan, Tila puso ko’y nasisinagan.

Sa bawat problema na nagdaan, Ikaw ang tanging sagot at paraan Mga halakhak mo’y nakakagaan Sa mundo kong puno ng kasarinlan.

Kaliwa, Kanan Saan?

Paano?

Di ko inakala ako’y mahuhulog Paano ko sasabihin Takot at tuliro Ano ba ito? Duwag ba ako?

At naisip ko, Hayaan ko na lang Palipasin ang mga oras At namnamin ang bawat araw Na kasama ka.

Ngunit di ko inakala Di lang pala ako May gumagambala na pala sayo At iba pala ang mundo mo

Sakit at pighati At di ko alam kung bakit.

Nandito ako sa tabi mo Ngunit siya ang sigaw ng puso mo.

Patawarin mo ako dahil iniwan ka niya Pasensya na tanging yun lang ang paraan Para bumalik ka sa akin Oh sinta, ganoon kita kamahal.

Tila paraiso nung ika’y iniwan niya Ngunit nagmistulang baliw Dahil siya’y paraiso mo At kailanma’y di ako ang iyong mundo.

At ngayon napagtunghayan ko “Mahal dapat akong lumisan, At dapat kitang kalimutan.”

Masakit, ngunit paalam.

Magtatapos man ang pag-iibigan Ngunit mananatili kitang kaibigan Salamat at ako’y handa na Sa bagong umaga.

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The Living Masterpiece

by Khwynn Geollainne M. Mitra Let me tell you a story about art.

Not about the cessation of the beats of your heart, not about the slashes on your wrists or the life you almost risked, not the rope you hide under your bed, or the thoughts you have inside your head, not the pills inside your cabinet, and your bottled regrets, not the medicines you used to overdose if you’re thinking about those, not about the engraved stories on your skin just so everyone can see the vulnerability within, not about the wounds on the canvas, or the way you wished you’ll breathe your last.

Let me tell you a story about art.

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And this story is about when you were brought to the world and cried your first cry, how you started to play laughed, giggled, and dreamt to fly, how you smiled genuinely and ran cheerily; this is about the moment when you learned to enjoy the things that give you chills, and how it brought you unexplainable thrills.

Let me tell you a story about art.

This story is about you, and how you managed to survive; how you bravely underwent all your strife, and how you decided to live your life. hence I repeat, this is a story about art― and it begun when you were born.

Sa Isang Iglap

by Anieli S. Delos Santos Sa isang iglap naging madilim ang aking mundo, Tila ako’y nakapikit at walang makitang kahit na ano, Kahit kaunting liwanag man lang galing sa iyo, Kahit na likod o anino mo.

Sa isang iglap aking narinig ang pagbagsak ng ulan, Tila’y sinasabayan ako sa aking kadramahan, Bawat patak ako’y nasasaktan, Nangungulila sa iyo at sa mga alaala ng ating nakaraan.

Sa isang iglap bumalik sa akin ang nakaraan, Masasayang kuwentuhan at tawanan, Ang mga nais aminin ay dinadaan sa biruan, Para ang dating ay hindi makatotohanan.

Sa isang iglap natagpuan ko ang aking sarili sa isang malaking espasyo, Sa isang lugar na walang ikaw at ako, Dito ko napagtanto na walang saysay ang lahat ng ito, Kung ako’y maghihintay at magpapakatanga pa rin sa iyo.

Sa isang iglap ako’y may napansin, Ang aking buong akala ako’y iyong hihintayin, Ngunit ako ay nagkamali dahil tulad niya ikaw ay ganoon din, Sa mga nakalipas na araw sa iba na ang iyong tingin.

Sa isang iglap bumalik ako sa aking mundo, Sa isang madilim at masalimuot na ako, Walang kahit anong bakas ni kahit anino mo, Siguro panahon na para ika’y kalimutan ko.

Sa isang iglap ako ay nagpakatanga, Nagsayang ng ngiti at luha, Nagpakapagod sa kahihintay sa kaniya, Sa isang taong parang bula na biglang nawala.

Sa isang iglap aking narinig ang pagbagsak ng ulan, Tila’y sinasabayan ako sa aking kadramahan, Bawat patak ako’y nasasaktan, Nangungulila sa iyo at sa mga alaala ng ating nakaraan.

Sa isang iglap minulat ko ang aking mga mata, Sa wakas ako ay nagising na, Paulit-ulit na pangyayari sa aking alaala, Mga panaginip ng iyong paglisan na akala ko’y limot ko na.

Sa isang iglap ako ay babangon.

Sa isang iglap ikaw ay sa limot ko ibabaon.

Sa isang iglap ang sakit ay maghihilom.

Sa isang iglap ako ay makakatagpo rin sa takdang panahon.

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Hoy Parekoy

by Sharmaine Canama “Baliw” ang naging hatol ng piskal at imbis na rehas o bakal ang panibago mong bilangguan ay tangkal na gawa sa pader.

Imbis na kadena o posas ay kasing puti ng trahe de boda ang manggas na gagapos sa iyong pulso.

Baliw ka nga bang maituturing?

Kung ang iyong kalungkutan ay isa lamang kaartehan at pauso sa mga kabataan.

Kung ang galak at luha na nasa magkabilang dulo ng lubid ang iyong pangbigti sa bawat hinagpis at pighati.

Hoy parekoy! ang paglaslas ng pulso ay di tulad ng sandugo bilang tanda ng kapatiran ng iyong mga ninuno.

Ang matalas na patalim ay nagkukubli ng lihim sa ilalim ng takipsilim.

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Sintigas man ng bakal ang puso ng bawat indibidwal, Walang anumang posas ang gagapos sa muling pagaspas ng ‘yong pakpak na sugatan

dulot ng kahapon at kasalukuyan.

Ang dingding ang magiging sandalan sa muli mong pagtayo at muli mong pagkabigo.

Sa gitna ng kawalan ay ang muling pagsibol ng bawat binhi ng galak na minsa’y namulaklak sa mga luhang pumatak bilang tanda ng pag-asa sa likod ng bugtong ng mga tala.

The Best Part

by Jaymee B. Brigole I’ve seen both good and bad, the best and the worst, the cold and warm, the joy and the pain, simultaneously.

I’ve experienced both sunshine and rain, I laughed while crying, I held on while giving up, I died while living, But the best part was I loved while hurting.

Mapasaakin Ka Na Sana

by Betty Marie Josefa S. Rubio Araw-araw ika’y aking iniisip Kahit ako’y natutulog, ika’y nasa panaginip Marami ang sayo ay nagkakagusto At isa na ako sa mga ito.

Sana ako’y iyong tulungan Huwag mo naman akong ipagtabuyan Mahirap ang nasa ganitong kalagayan Nagtitiis makuha ka lamang.

Konti na lang at ika’y aking mahahagkan Ang susi ng aking kinabukasan Pintig ng puso’y aking nadarama Kaya mapasaakin ka na sana, pinakamamahal kong Diploma.

Ang hirap mong abutin Kahit sila ay nahihirapan na rin Ang taas kasi ng iyong pamantayan Kaya ang hirap mong sabayan.

Hindi ka nagpapadala sa mga manloloko Hanga talaga ako sa mga nagaaruga sayo Nagawa kasi nilang pahirapan nang husto Ang mga nagbabalak na matamo ang iyong puso.

Tanging malalakas lamang ang makakakaya Sa lahat ng problemang ibabato mo sa kanila Walang humpay na pag-aasa Ang ipinapakita para lang ika’y makuha.

Ako man ay sabik na sabik na Ika’y maging akin sa tuwina Madurog man ako sa sakit Hindi ako susuko kung ikaw ang kapalit.

A poem to my brave self

by Jaymee B. Brigole

I see sunflower blooming in your wounded soul don’t be harsh; we both know you want kindness.

Take it slowly, keep your heart open Don’t settle in pain, pray it would go away Keep wishing for the calm sea you’ve been wanting to feel inside you And if it doesn’t come, create it.

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The Rope and the Chair

by Annsel Magno

The wonder of life is striking.

Life trails lead to different fascinations; there are trails that should be followed; and there are trails that should be avoided

The image of death slowly knocked as the objects were to be used to break.

However, the moonlight illuminated from above; it was so fascinating that it gave hope.

While following the trail; found was a dead end.

The decision of going back escorted another difficulty.

Falling deep into the dark pit Alone inside.

Exhaustion magnified human limitations.

The idea of being out in the bright, rejuvenates the body’s wariness as it fuels the heart’s flame of hope.

The silence of loneliness crept in.

Sadness was waving like an old friend Anxiety attacked from behind as the questions whirled around like the wind As the pitch dark night approaches, the sunset illuminated objects that save or break; a rope so strong and long tied in a bark of a tree, and a chair aimed to reach the rope Desperate to escape, the rope and chair were used to save.

Countless attempts of moving up ended in failing.

Those failures ensued defeat.

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When the greeting of the day finally peaked the aim of freedom ablaze.

Countless of attempts did not waver hope as each fall was a mark of newfound strength.

Wounds would heal but leave a scar; the evidence of surging metamorphosis.

Though ugly it gives beauty to the strongest person I’ve become.

And at last, success was destined to be achieved.

Dead leaves fall and a bud of flower blooms.

Sunlight guides the trail of another flight as the peace in the sound of solace greets me.

Para kay Rafael

by Fadzrati D. Asarud Nasa punto ng buhay kung saan Sa bawat pagsikat ng araw sa silangan, Sa paggising ay panibagong laban, Pilit pa ring naghahanap ng katuturan Patuloy pa ring iminumulat ang mga mata Kahit pa tigmak ng ‘di mabilang na luha Nagbabaka-sakaling lahat ay pansamantala Nakakatukso mang wakasan nang kusa Ang init ng katanghaliang tapat Ay nalaman mong hindi makasasapat Upang pawiin ang hinagpis at lahat Maging mga karanasang nag-iwan ng lamat Kung saan-saang dako ka naglalakbay Mahanap lang ang kaligayahang tunay Na sa iyong wari ay Ipinagkakait sa iyo ng laro ng buhay Ang natitirang lakas pagsapit ng dapithapon Ang mga alaala ng nagdaang panahon Siya mong kinapitan upang makaahon Masakit at malakas man ang hampas ng alon

Hayaang tangayin ng hanging panggabi Ang pait at sakit, hinagpis at pighati Sa makulay at makabuluhang kwentong nahabi Na iyong babasahing muli, may ngiti sa labi Ang pagal na katawan, puso’t isipan Ipahinga at ihimlay sa gitna ng karimlan Sa gitna ng iyong lahat ng kaguluhan Makikita mong ilusyon ang iyong kahinaan Ang iyong mga sugat, pasa, at kalyo Ay maghihilom nang kusa, ito’y panigurado At kung sakaling may takot sa mga pagbabago Pakatandaan mo sana ang aking pangako Mananatili ang pag-ibig, mahal, pangako.

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Hyakutake

by Adeanne Nifled Joshua M. Sespeñe

Then I would see on my worthless journey Unbelievable wonders Spheres of different size and color And many, many more

How long has it been?

How long was I this alone?

How long was I floating aimlessly?

How long have I been away from home?

Like strong flashes of light From far away distances Or colorful explosions That compared to the black vastness are mere disturbances

Questions, questions building up inside My metallic core Also wondering how one event Could make our bond no more?

As I go farther and farther It suddenly feels like something is pulling me Then I suddenly go back Then suddenly I felt new after seemingly an eternity

Trying to remember that fateful moment With my withering memory that is starting to fade Memories, that are slipping away As I start accepting this eternal fate

There again I saw the spheres once again Of colors ranging from blue to yellow Along with my fellow wanderers As we are attracted with awe

I remember I was one with something gigantic No! It’s like I am the center Surrounded by a rocky mass Until came the disaster A violent event that even left me a scar Came this blinding darkness As I feel being ripped away And into the black vastness

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And ever since that it was always that As I see others like me, follow a certain path We go like this near-perpetual Seeing wonders, like this and that

We are like waltzing back To where we were once Then I pass by to my familiar place As I obey this unknown dance We are approaching this giant Probably the most gigantic sphere I’ve seen Such magnificence it was!

Blazing with brightness and beauty For the first time in a long time I finally feel enthusiasm A feeling that removed my uncertainty A treatment to internal chasm

Wandering Love

The light of this enormous yellow sphere That brings warmth to my cold Giving me this anticipation Like surprises yet to unfold

by Vinz Harrold Basilio

This is a feeling of my attraction As I want to approach it as fast as possible That for once in my existence Something is worth it after all

We look at each other Until our eyes meet But, you turn away Until your shadow vanishes in vain

I finally see its addicting glow Radiating my icy-rocky body As I slowly melt away I can say I finally become happy

I try to chase you But we’re already, miles apart I don’t know where am I going Now I’m lost and in despair

I float around it Mesmerizing it on a closer view I felt so small Yet a warm emotion, something I never knew

Another day comes Here I go thinking of you again No matter the pain At least, it was you who made me feel this way

After a long time passed I feel like going away from the sphere Then the joy and happiness I feel Is suddenly replaced with solitude and fear

I remember the day we first met The day where it all started Until it becomes memory A memory of you who keeps running away

The fear of again, facing worthlessness As the loneliness starts to return The fear of the unspeakable pain As the cold slowly eats away the burn It goes like this for almost like an eternity As I go cold and then go hot again The cycle continues Continuing until the end

Then, I always find myself chasing you No matter how far I will try to reach you Or maybe not— Not the will of love who can mend this heart Not the heart who will help me find you Not the time who will let me see you again Or maybe it’s my time to forget you

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An Open Letter

by Jamila Becca I. Daud Noong nakaraang araw, sinubukan kong magsulat Hindi ko alam tungkol saan o tungkol kanino o para kanino Sinubukan kong alalahanin ang nakaraan kung saan ako’y nawalan ng tahanan dahil lubusan mo akong sinaktan Kung kailan lagi akong humihingi ng kapatawaran kahit hindi ako ang may kasalanan pero hindi. sabi ko sa sarili ko na tama na hindi ako nagsusulat para magparinig hindi ako nakakadena sa mga tula tungkol sa pag-ibig nagsusulat ako para marinig at mapakinggan at maramdaman ang bawat salitang lumalabas sa aking bibig ang tulang ito ay hindi gawa-gawa lamang para may maipresenta sa inyong mga harapan ang tulang ito ay totoo kagaya ng pagmamahal ko sa iyo na binaon mo sa limot hindi ito gawa-gawa lamang katulad ng mga kwento mo tungkol sa atin kung saan ikaw ang biktima at ako ang kontra hindi ito gawa-gawa lamang katulad ng mga pangako mong walang iwanan pero sa huli, ako’y iyong binitawan.

Dahil ang tulang ito ay totoo kagaya ng nararamdaman ko totoo na kapag sinabi kong pagod na ako, hindi ibig sabihin na pagod na ako at kailangan ko lang matulog totoo na kapag umiiyak ako hindi ibig sabihin ay gusto kong kaawaan at balikan mo ako totoo na kapag hindi ako pumapasok sa klase kinaumagahan ibig sabihin ay buong gabi kitang iniyakan Hindi ito gawa-gawa lamang kaya wag mong sabihin na naghahanap lamang ako ng atensyon tuwing umiiyak ako sa iyong harapan

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Kapag sinabi kong pagod na ako, hindi lang tulog ang kailangan ko kundi pahinga at paghinga dahil hirap akong huminga kapag umiiyak ako, hindi dahil naaalala ko kung paano mo ako iniwan kundi dahil kinakain ako ng mga multong nakatira sa aking isipan.

At kapag umiiyak ako, hindi atensyon ang hanap ko kundi komunikasyon.

Makinig ka.

Dahil kapag umiiyak ako, humihingi ako ng tulong pero hindi ko masabi o maibulong.

Kailangan ko ng solusyon at lunas sa matagal ko nang sitwasyon.

Sa tuwing hawak ko ang patalim, wala na akong nakikita dahil lahat ay nagdidilim.

Alam kong mali ang balak kong gawin pero ang mga multo na ang gusto kong patayin.

Gabi-gabi kong sinasakal ang aking sarili gamit ang mga paratang ng iyong mga kaibigan.

Pilit kong hinihiwa ang aking pulso upang tumigil na ang

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Rose turned Red

by Lacson F. Usman Jr. Once, all the roses were actually white Not one is red, never red Blooming with its innocence Captivating its spectators How can such beauty be altered?

From the torrid sun, menacing weather And the harm from those who tried to pick it To persist amidst all the terrors the world could offer What astounding truth it holds A rose bloomed white turned red A body who bends but never broke A rose that withered but now blooms Everything that occurred around it Now holds the answer to the mystery Everything that it endured Caused it to change Every cut on the stem healed Every leaf blown away and fell grew back The scorching sun endured, every storm it stood Every finger it pricked to protect itself

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Such glamour the new rose projects Petals red as blood, leaves green as emerald The soil where it blooms, brown as chocolate The beauty it radiates amidst the white ones all over The beauty it holds is from its resolve to bloom And now it’s clear, the rose is red From the blood shed The rose is strong from everything it endured

An open letter to the demons inside my head

by Annsel Magno

My dear demons, Your first appearance remains unknown to me.

You have invited yourself into a place you’re not welcomed.

And I really want you to know that, I hate you.

Thank you; for making me stronger; for making me learn how to value myself; for teaching me how to love myself.

For making me realize what the greatest gifts in life are.

I hate you because; you made me things that would make me hate myself.

You made me feel useless.

You made me think that I am worthless.

You made me miserable.

You broke me.

I know there are still pains I’m yet to feel; Perspectives I’m yet to see; Lessons I’m yet to learn.

But I know I would always learn to heal.

And I know I’m always stronger than I was before.

You ruin memories; the things that reminds me of happiness.

You bring back the past I wanted to forget through a scent, or a sound, or a sight.

You filled my head with thoughts of you; just because happiness didn’t come back when I need her the most.

Being with you is not so bad after all; I know I’ll have to be with you till I’m ready to face everything.

You will be my companion till happiness arrives.

And when the day comes, you would leave, and I will gladly say: “I enjoyed your stay.”

But of all the grim things you did, it made me feel human.

As my weakness arouse, I discovered my strength.

And for that I want to thank you.

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Lost in Space

by Rosen Gabriel S. Garcia In the vastness that has become void, the image of once it was is all he could think about.

He exists in the middle of the realm where everything has vanished – all traces of anything that once existed in this universe. He steers his spaceship towards somewhere he’s determined to go, not knowing if the place still exists or not.

Everything had ended in this space, but he seems to cling on the fact that as long as he exists, the place of his dreams still exists. This has to be a nightmare, and through determination, he’ll be reunited to the lively universe he’s from.

He wanders the void. A pitch-black of eternity stretches both ends, forming a chasm on all directions leading to nowhere. He continues to speed up in one direction – he knows not the direction he’s taking.

After a long journey, the ship finally stops – it lost all its fuel. The ship starts to float to the currents of the void. He decides to step out and push the ship with all his strength. He starts to think why he keeps going on, but he does it anyway. The darkness seems to sip all of his strength in every struggle, but he manages to move it at a very slow pace.

In the middle of his struggle, the oblivion is finally disturbed by a voice so soft, that he feels he is in another space. It feels like a remnant to him, a remnant of the past universe where everything was still existing and full of life – a universe where he truly belonged.

The voice is calm, yet it resounds the whole space – like the space itself is talking to him.

“Why do you struggle?”

He hesitates. He isn’t sure himself. He has never been sure since the day this universe ended. Does it even matter? He is at a point where he already had forgotten himself – his appearance, his feelings, his emotions, his dreams and aspirations, his memories, everything that concerned him, were wiped along in the worlds that once existed. All he knows is that he has a ship to push and a destination to go to.

Yes, of course. I have somewhere to go. He needs to go to that place, it doesn’t matter where it is, for he has to reach it no matter what it takes.

He decides to ignore the voice, for it only worsens the frustration he feels. He continues to push his ship, in hopes that he could see landmarks of the place where everything exists. The powerless ship is a dead weight to him, but he did not let it go. It is something that he has, and the ship has only him.

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The voice of the universe speaks to him once more.

“Do you think this is the end? Or is it the beginning? As someone who still exists, your choice will affect what happens next to this catastrophe you called an end.”

He pauses. He feels uneasy to the message of the void.

“Are you surprised? The ones who exist call it an end, then it becomes one.”

“Can I restore what has been lost in this void?” he replies.

“Who knows? Do you know what you had lost in the first place?” the universe replied.

He doesn’t know. What was it like before? Was it really lively and colorful? Or has the universe always been like this? Had his dream place always been like this?

He starts to doubt himself, for he himself doesn’t remember a pinch of his place.

All he knows is that the ambience of life, which used to be present, is lacking in this void.

“I don’t know what I lost in the universe. I can’t remember what the universe was in the first place,” he replies, feeling ashamed of his ignorance.

“The thing you call universe, does it encompass the wholeness of what you knew and believed?” the voice was slowly turning into soft whispers, “I shall give you a chance then.”

In a split second, like a torrent flying towards his head, he starts to remember the most beautiful sceneries in his universe. He eventually realizes that his destination is everything that this universe has to offer.

He glances at the void surrounding him. The difference is now clear to his mind.

He then narrates to the voice what it was like before this void.

“I know that the space was filled with lights because of stars, with planets of different shapes and colors, with galaxies and organisms!” he replies as the memories start to flow unto him. “There were creatures of different characteristics, and there were even unusual events, and this universe was once a wonderful mystery!” He looks around in the pitch black surroundings, “This is nothing compared to the universe I before saw!”

He remembers everything. What suspended his mind was what kept him struggling. He lives for the sake of seeing remnants of the universe he once had.

His grief leads him to tears, which flows towards the chasm surrounding him.

“Well, then, I shall help you see what you’re looking for,” replies the voice.

The ship starts to hum its engine once again. He is surprised that there is no other way to bring it back to life by fueling it. The universe must’ve done it, he thinks. He is truly grateful to the voice for bringing to life, the life he once lost. At a distance, a light shines which signifies one thing – that is the way to go. He goes back to his spaceship for he has found a new direction after a long wait inside this void.

He speeds his spaceship towards the light. He is reaching the speed of sound racing towards it, until the voice speaks again to him.

“You deserve it, for the universe was never lost. It was you who lost yourself in your universe.”

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Liwanag at Mata ni Shariful S. Mansul

Ang salitang ugat ng paliwanag ay liwanag, na nagpapaalala naman sa akin ng ilaw. Halimbawa: araw. Sabi ng isang academic, may kaibahan daw ang dalawa. Ilaw ang sanhi. Ito ang light bulb, ang fluorescent, ang flashlight, at iba pa. Liwanag naman ang lumalabas sa sanhing ito.

Halimbawa: wala. Haha! Hindi nakikita ang liwanag. Tahimik itong naglalakbay sa kawalan hanggang makadapo siya sa isang materyal na bagay—baso, PSP, notebook, alikabok, buntot ng pusa, at kung ano pa.

Isang kaluluwa para sa isang malikot na isipan. Hindi nakikita, pero nararamdaman ayon sa mga natatamaan niya.

Masasabing ang paliwanag, o explanation, ay may kahalintulad na gawi.

Siyempre, bilang isang salitang nanggaling dito. Ang pagpapaliwanag ay ang pagsisinag din ng isang ilaw sa isa pang bagay. Wala siyang natatamo pabalik, pero sumisinag pa rin. Hindi tayo nagagawang pakilusin nito.

Walang kwenta ang paliwanag sa aspektong ito. Sa halip, binibigyan niya tayo ng mata. Este, binibigyan niya ng saysay ang pagkakaroon natin ng mata. Sa huli naman ay walang pilitan. Ang buklatin ito ay nasa kamay natin.

Ang makakita ay isang kapangyarihan. Ang tumingin sa maganda, sa mga tala at buwan, ay ang isa sa mga matitikas na dahilan kung bakit may saysay mabuhay. Ngunit, sa parehong mata rin natin nakikita ang kasuklam-suklam, ang mga uod, patay na aso, mga DDS, mga nasagasaang palaka. Ang liwanag ay hindi naglalako ng mabuti, ngunit hindi rin ito naglalako masama. Ang tanging sinasabi lang nito ay tumingin, ano man ang bagay, ang nilalang, ang ikinukubli ng mundo. Sa madaling salita, ang katotohanan.

Ang makakita ay isa ring kakayahan. Walang umuusad sa dilim sa iisang ninanais na direksyon. Ang lampara ng buhay ay parehong nagbibigay ng mensahe ng panganib at ligaya. Sadyang ganire ang anatomiya niya. Ang kanan ay sinusundan ng kaliwa. Ang pinakamatinding kasinungalingan ay tignan ang buhay sa iisang kulay. Ang pagdilat ay kasinghalaga ng pagpikit, ang sakit ng sarap, ang luha ng tawa. Titigan lamang. Walang masama sa pagiging komplekado, bunga lang ito ng talas ng paningin, ng lakas ng liwanag, ng paliwanag, ng talim ng katotohanan, ng pag-ibig ng ilaw sa iyo, o ng sarili mo sa iyo.

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Hindi pa humihinto kakaikot ang daigdig natin sa araw sa loob ng higit 4 na bilyong taon na pagdirito nito. Naisip ko na, palagi namang may tsansang bumuka ang liwayway, manghalik sa mga mukha nating uhaw sa liwanag, nag-aabang sa umaga. Siguro ang kaibahan lang ay eh, kung tatapangin nating pagmasdan ang ano mang ipapakita ng haring araw na ito. Sa huli naman nasa sa atin pa rin eh, o baka hindi rin. Baka kailangan din nating sundin ang ritmo ng limitado nating lakas. Basta. Alin man, tuklasin na lang natin. Laging umusad. May mata naman tayo eh.

At least, for myself

by Jaymee B. Brigole

I was on the verge of giving up, I don’t want to speak of roses anymore.

I’ve been realizing the same thing for a while now - the universe has nothing to do with what my heart truly desires to have. I’ve realized that the world is so much capable of influencing my mind, but it never had something to do with what’s truly in my heart. I am now slowly being accustomed to this thing called life. I understand that I can’t run away from the experiences I wish I could forget. I have accepted the fact that I can’t change anything.

I can’t make something big in a snap, or even be truly happy after a night of crying myself to sleep. I’m tired of proving myself to others when I can barely even understand every inch of my being.

But now, I understand. What I want is peace and genuine happiness in everything. If peace can’t be found in my cup of coffee, I won’t drink it. If genuine happiness is not found in trying to impress others, I won’t do it. I want to be true at least, for myself.

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Photography

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Seaside Spirit

by Aljon Khan M. Chua

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Recuperaciรณn Marthy Semil

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Refulgence of Hope Vinz Harrold Basilio

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spread fo

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or digi art

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CONTINUE

Abeer U. Uri

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FULLY LOADED Abeer U. Uri

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It’s Okay To Start Again Abeer U. Uri

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Puedes Llorar

Cedrick S. Zabala

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Children’s Play Shamy Jailani

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Traditional Art 57

Let Only Light In Dominic Ian E. Cabatit

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Under the Weather Ma. Sofia Carro D. Falcasantos

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Even Broken Ones Grow Zoehanh Elid

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Bloom

Andrea Rejie E. Anding

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The Art of Healing Andrea Rejie E. Anding

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Heal Through Time Andrea Rejie E. Anding

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Perfectly Imperfect Ayana Dawn S. Atis

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Editorial Board Editor-in-Chief: Sharmaine Canama Associate Editor for Reveille: Sophia Therese Del Castillo Associate Editor for Sinag: Mickaella Joyce Dumayag Associate Editor for Social Media: Ayesha Tulete & Kent Zacharee Masamayor Managing Editor: Vinz Harrold Basilio & Renz Marion Suarez News Editor: Wisey Democrito Sports Editor: Yusrhina Usman Feature Editor: Shariful Mansul Copy Reader (English): Yves Joey Flores Communications Officer: Kelly Cassandra Teja Head Cartoonist: Karl Onayan Head Photojournalist: Teriez Michove Bokingkito Head Layout Artist: Andrea Nicole Zamora Adviser: Leah M. Panaguiton WRITERS Al Abdulpatta, Nisa Marie Alfaro, Aungus Alpasain, Paula Alexis Ando, Jefferson Aray, Clairizza Arcillas, Fadzrati Asarud, Annafer Francine Besana, Patricia Calinawan, Danhill Daniles, Dodi Ahmad Dinsuat, Vina Espejo, Tasha Eugenio, John Fabian, Sheriemike Gadin, Rosen Gabriel Garcia, Jehanne Hassan, Kristian Ken Mabalot, Annsel Magno, Fatima Mandangan, Erika Jenn Quisil, Joshua Salvador, Kristine Segayo, Chrizelle Jane Sicat, Rolly Songcayauon, Renzo Tan, Alyssa Tubilag

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PHOTOJOURNALISTS Denzel Sean Bautista, Jean Clarice Bue, Sean Vincent Del Castillo, Lance Kirby Gigante, James Hamoy, Charlyn Laran, Jerecho Salinel, Shannen Marthy Semil, Deanna Toledo CARTOONISTS Ayana Dawn Atis, Ma. Sofia Carro Falcasantos, Razty Guevara, Crystalane Hagonoy, Shamy Jailani, Johanna Ismene Julian, Maria Reolyn Pilones, Allysa Marie Ramiso, Gwen Toribio LAYOUT ARTISTS Charlene Lizardo, Neil Miro VIDEOGRAPHER Peter Valmonte

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Acknowledgement We are extending our gratitude to the following for their support:

FR. KAREL SAN JUAN, SJ P R E S I D E N T, AT E N E O D E Z A M B O A N G A U N I V E R S I T Y

FR. RENE C. TACASTACAS, SJ VICE PRE SIDENT FOR HIGHER EDUCATION

MS. ANGELA BAES UNIVERSITY TREASURER

MS. CHRISTINE CALUNOD DIRECTOR OF STUDENT AFFAIRS

ATENEO STUDENTS for their individual contributions

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NOTES

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NOTES

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