Echoes: The Shield Literary Folio by The Shield Publication

Front ECHOES Cover ECHOES ECHOES ECHOES ECHOES ECHOES

ECHOES The Literary Folio of The Shield, the official student publication of St. Joseph School - La Salle, Bacolod.

Cover by Jhodie May Salomon Kaori Jash Hirose

Layout & Design by Fenniel Faith De Pedro Fiona Tarrazona

ECHOES THE SHIELD LITERARY FOLIO

June 2022

Foreword B

orn from the efforts of The Shield Publication staff and its contributors, Echoes serves as a reflection of what once was and what it has been molded to be. Working on the folio has had its grueling moments, but none that could take away the merit of its completion. It’s certainly a task to weave poetry and prose with the right threads, not to mention the capability it takes to distinguish the appropriate content to be presented in a folio. M. Sembrano, our literary editor, did not cut corners in the making of this, doubled with the efforts of A. Makilan, our associate editor, and F. De Pedro and F. Tarrazona, the primary layout artists. You could suppose that the healthy amounts of schmoozing around and working has kept everyone too busy from thinking about the extra two years of high school ahead. Echoes—echoes, echoes, echoes. Sometimes I forget the actual name of this folio. An austere irony of what it stands for; for all of their footfalls, memories can be so fickle. What better to prove this mercurial nature, than to let the pages speak for themselves?

Angeli Marie Semblante EDITOR-IN-CHIEF

Contents Poetry Prism 8 Awake 9 The Glass Cycle 10 algudon 12 Pen 14 Isang Alaala 16 sa muling pagkikita, sa huling pagkakataon 17 Lost in Melody 18 Spectrum 20 Kahidlaw 22 Youthful Days 23 Anak 24 Short Stories Cold Water 28 In Another Life, Mi Amore 30 Huling Yakap 32 May Old Times Be Healed 36 Acknowledgement 38

Poetry

Prism by Diamella Guliman Like a light, it shines bright, blinding Utterances of trust instilled It soars to the heights of heavens I can go to any lengths For love

illustration by Jhodie May Salomon

illustration by Princess Solacito

Awake by Serene.K Late at night I’m stuck in an endless pool of dreams, I lie awake with things that are not what they seem. When will I open my eyes and see, That these dreams are just memories of another me.

The Glass Cycle by Liahona Haley Javelona I am transparent, Thus easy to read I am malleable, Thus easy to fool And I am fragile, But have never been worthwhile

illustration by Kaori Jash Hirose

Trapped inside that cycle I scatter into pieces And like dropped glass I echo Now, I glue myself back Again and again Then, I stand on my own But the scars formed from the cracks Remain imperfectly sewn The dizzying orbit takes its path Constantly elusive of my touch I am made of glass I shatter Again and again Until there’s nothing left of me To break

algudon by Bulan It’s your birthday The clouds are painted blue and pink Thin outline of the moon, waxed light against the cerulean I wonder what it looks like on your end of the world I hope you’re looking outside pretending that my eyes are blue I trace where your cotton hands would be on my face when we were younger, foolish and free I’ll be blowing candles, so that when you inhale smoke, you’ll remember me.

illustration by Kaori Jash Hirose

Pen by Christel Marie Maquiling

I’ve written a million words though did it all make sense? But when I see the emptiness, I must continue against any odds

illustration by Jhodie May Salomon

Isang Alaala ni Kent Nico Balondro Halika na, gusto mo bang makita? Tignan ang gabing maliwanag Mga bituin na nasa ibabaw Halika na, itaboy ang ‘yong mga problema Makulay na himpapawid Nagbibigay ng ngiti Habang-buhay sa isang saglit Nakita mga mata mong nakapikit At sa pagtanda natin Sana’y maalala mo parin Ang fireworks show na tinanaw natin

sa muling pagkikita, sa huling pagkakataon ni Sinag

sa paglipas ng panahon ‘tila nangungulila pa rin ako sa saya ng kahapon hindi magawang mamaalam hindi magawang makalimutan maibabalik pa kaya ang kislap sa iyong mga mata sa tuwing ako’y nakikita? tuluyan na bang naubos ang pagsinta? tuluyan na bang nalimot sa mga alaala? sa ating muling pagkikita, sa huling pagkakataon, paalam ang aking huling tugon paalam ang ating mga nalalabing panahon.

Lost in Melody by MagWiRe The song plays again A lullaby it seems It cradles me to sleep To stifle this throbbing heart That weeps And so it sings Of the glorious days But Oh! A blatant mockery Of the forgotten past The story of my wounded race

With this I wake up For the silent That now speak For the afraid Ready to fight For the suffering Rose up to flame.

"You've seen all the moon's faces Even the ones she's never seen before The universe is a glass mirror And she only looks at the earth."

illustration by Princess Jaimary Solacito

Spectrum by Mr. Mr. Underneath secluded cries, Bloody red oozing from these scars. Eyes, wet drippin' are my orange tears. This erratic yearning for value Cowering as chiding glares police my roars. Yellow, a glow dashing from the stars, A dazzle I long to touch. Overgrazing in this chrysalis, I want to fly. Though this flight is as if bound to meet Death, Why does it fashion us green smirch? O Moon, hear my delicate plea, I won't say goodbye— trust me. Hope you'll accept me as if not forced. For an altruistic wish for conformity requires courage, Covet 'tis pride, for I am hands-down ready. All the years that have been silent and blue, Shall now paint a true, strong, purple scent. This verse will shortly disclose my view, That I, you, am a hue, I am rainbow, the after-rain dew.

Kahidlaw ni Isabella Peña Ang mga balod nga gapaanod-anod Sa sining tagipusuon nga nahidlaw adlaw-adlaw Apang ang imo yuhom Sa matam-is mo nga nawong, bulong Sa aton gugmang duwa nga makahalawhaw

Youthful Days by Janine Yap I yearn for everything. I wanna feel the breeze on my skin when it’s still young, I wanna dance ‘til it hurts, I wanna sing until my voice breaks, So when waves of wrinkles grow through my skin, I won’t have to long for the joys of yesterday, As when the flowers wilt I won’t sigh for the passing of the days.

illustration by Fenniel Faith De Pedro

Anak ni Julieane Norine Cuenca Papuri rito, papuri roon. ‘Kay sarap pakinggan ng kanilang matatamis na salita, Isipan ko’y tuluyang nilamon, Ninais na gawin ang lahat upang kagalakan sa inyong mga mukha’y makita. Hagulhol ng pusong napapagod ay tuluyang binalewala, Tuluyang naging sakim upang papuri niyo’y makuha. Ngunit sino nga ba ang tunay na may sala? Sino nga ba ang dahilan sa likod ng aking mapapait na mga luha? Nais lamang ng aking inosenteng diwa na maging sapat, Subalit lingid sa aking kaalaman na ito’y napakahirap. Ama, ina, ano ba ang nararapat? Matutupad pa ba ang aking inosenteng pangarap?

Short Stories

illustration by Kaori Jash Hirose

Cold Water

by Mariness Althea Sembrano Dinner with my family was a comforting break from long shifts at the office, my prickly coworkers, and the overall monotony of my life. Being with my family made me feel young once again, when my only problem was how many steps it took to reach the television box so I could change the channel. In the middle of the busy restaurant, we sat at a table for five. One chair remained vacant beside Mama because she always insisted on having a chair for our late father. Despite the sound of indistinguishable chatter surrounding us, we laughed at a joke our mother said. We couldn’t

quite hear her as clearly anymore, but her wit was still as sharp as a knife. “Remember when Gino was such a deep sleeper that Papa had to throw water on his face? Even Mama’s screaming couldn’t wake him up,” said my sister Bea. “His pillows always looked like he wet himself.” I covered my face with a hand, embarrassed. My shoulders shook from silent laughter. “I had great dreams. What can I say?” My family fell into laughter once again, my brother Paul overpowering the cacophony with his booming guffaws. “I hate all of you,” I said in a teasing tone, “Don’t ever talk about me ever again.” The dinner ended soon when my mother said she was sleepy. Paul and I helped her up from her chair and led her outside to the parking lot to Paul’s car. I got into my own car after we bid each other goodbye. I drove back home with a warm, bittersweet feeling in my chest. I missed them so much. As I get ready for bed, I can’t help but wish to be young once again. I wanted to be back in the time when Mama was still healthy and when my life was still filled with excitement with no worries. I missed the time when my siblings and I were still close to each other, not limited to curt calls once a month and pretending to be amiable when Mama’s around. I sighed as my sore body hit the soft mattress and pillows. I’m not as young as I used to be. Soon, a dreamless sleep took over me. It was the best sleep I had in months. “Get up, Gino! You’re gonna be late!” I quickly sat up on my bed as I felt cold water slap me in the face.

In Another Life, ni Julieane Norine Cuenca

Mi Amore

Ang lalaki ay para lamang sa babae, ganon din na ang babae ay para lamang sa lalaki, ‘yan ang pinapaniwalaan ni Raiven bago ginulo ni Ran ang dati niyang tahimik na buhay. Nagtagpo ang kanilang mga malulungkot na mga mata sa araw ng engagement party ni Raiven na inihanda ng kaniyang mga magulang. Bilang panganay at lalaking miyembro ng pamilya, isa sa mga obligasyon ni Raiven na dalhin ang kanilang pangalan, kung kaya siya’y itinakdang ipakasal sa babaeng hindi niya mahal. Hindi iyon nagustuhan ni Raiven subalit wala na siyang magagawa sapagkat mahigpit ang kaniyang pamilya. Malakas na buntong–hininga ang pinakawalan ni Raiven bago maupo sa isang upuan sa kanilang hardin. Pumuslit siya mula sa pagdaraos sapagkat ‘tila hindi siya makahinga sa loob. Oo nga’t mula sa mataas na pamilya ang kaniyang mapapangasawa, maimpluwensiya rin ito at hindi maitatangging halos-perpekto ito, subalit nais niyang magpakasal sa taong tinitibok ng kaniyang puso. May biglaang umupo sa kaniyang tabi na siyang ikinagulat niya. Ngumiwi naman ang lalaki nang makita nito ang reaksyon ni Raiven at agad na humingi ng pasensya. Naglahad ng kamay ang lalaki at nagpakilala, “Ako nga pala si Ran. Diba ikaw ang isa sa mga importanteng panauhin ng pagdaraos na ito? Ba’t nandito ka sa labas at mukhang di ka pa masaya?” Mapait na napangiti si Raiven bago tinanggap ang kamay ni Ran at nagpakilala na rin sabay sagot sa tanong ni Ran. Natigil ang kanilang kausap bago humingi ng tawad sa naging tanong. Ipinagsawalang-bahala naman ito ni

Raiven at sa hindi malamang dahilan, nagpatuloy ang dalawa sa pag–uusap hanggang sa tinawag na ang ikakasal sapagkat siya ay hinahanap na sa loob. Buwan ang nakalipas at patuloy ang paghahanda para sa magiging kasal ni Raiven. Kaysa kilalahanin ang kaniyang mapapangasawa, mas napalapit si Raiven kay Ran hanggang sa hindi nila namalayan, nahuhulog na pala sila sa isa’t–isa. Lingid sa kaalaman ni Ran, nakapagdesisyon na si Raiven, at walang magawa si Ran kundi umiyak sa oras na lumabas ito sa bibig ni Raiven. Nasaktan man sa naging desisyon, walang ibang nagawa si Raiven kundi punasan ang luha ng kaniyang minamahal, “Pasensya na mahal ko. Oo nga’t ikakasal ako bukas sa iba ngunit pangako, ikaw lamang ang mamahalin ko.” Niyakap niya nang mahigpit si Ran bago hinalikan sa noo at dali–daling umalis. Araw ng kasal at nasa labas ng simbahan si Ran. Hindi niya kayang makita na ikasal sa iba ang kaniyang minamahal kung kaya’t hindi siya pumasok. Maraming tanong ang tumatakbo sa kaniyang isipan. Oo nga’t naiintindihan niya ang desisyon ni Raiven subalit masakit sa kaniya ang naging hantungan ng kanilang pagmamahalan. “Bakit hindi kami pwedeng magmahalan kahit pareho kaming lalaki?” Bulong niya sa kaniyang sarili. Sa huli, walang ibang nagawa ang binata habang tumutunog ang kampana ng simbahan at bago siya umalis, ngumiti siya ng pilit, “In another life, mi amore.”

illustration by Fenniel Faith De Pedro

Ang Huling Yakap ni Adriana Montepio Habang ako’y nagluluto ng aming pananghalian, mayroon akong narinig na pagsabog. “INAY!” sigaw ng babae kong anak. Nakikita ko sa kanyang mga mata ang takot. “Ano po ‘yon?” tinutukoy niya ang pagsabog. “W-Wala lang iyon, anak. Pumunta ka muna sa iyong silid at tatawagin nalang kita kapag naihanda ko na ang pagkain natin.” Pumunta na siya sa kanyang kwarto at ako naman ay hindi mapakali. Akala ko ba wala na sila? Bakit pa sila bumalik? “Ano naman ang kailangan nila?” bulong ko sa sarili. Natapos ko na ang pagluluto at tinawag ko na ang aking anak. “Nay, asan si tatay?” tanong niya. “Uuwi na ‘yon maya-maya. Mauna na lang tayong kumain,” sagot ko. “Hintayin nalang po natin si tatay, ‘nay.” nangungusap niyang mata. “Sige.” sang-ayon ko. Ilang minuto ang nakalipas ay umuwi na si Luisito, ang asawa ko. “TAY!” masayang bati ni Nory sa kanyang ama.

“Kamusta ang prinsesa ko?” “Mabuti naman po, pero kanina may narinig po kaming pagsabog ni inay.” Natigilan si Luisito sa kanyang narinig. “Ah, mabuti naman ay nasa maayos kayong kalagayan.” “Halika na ‘tay, kanina ka pa namin hinihintay.” Tahimik lang kaming kumain sa mesa. Walang may gustong magsalita. “Kamusta naman pala ang trabaho ninyo?” Pagbasag ko sa katahimikan. “Maayos naman, mas marami nga lang kaming ginawa kanina kaysa kahapon,” sagot niya. “Pagod ka po? Gusto niyo imasahe ko kayo mamaya?” tanong sa kanya ni Nory. “Sige ba,” nakangiting saad ni Luisito. Kinahapunan, narinig ko na may kinakausap si Luisito sa kanyang telepono. Alam ko na kung sino ang kausap niya at sana huwag na siyang sumama. Si Luisito ay isang dating pulis pero siya ay nasisante sa trabaho dahil nasangkot siya sa isang kaso tungkol sa ilegal na droga. Kahit ano ang paliwanag niya na hindi siya gumagamit ng ipinagbabawal na gamot ay hindi siya pinaniniwalaan. Mabuti nalang hindi siya nakulong dahil walang sapat na ebidensiya sa nagsasabing siya ay gumagamit ng ilegal na droga. Kaya nandito kami ngayon sa probinsiya para mamuhay nang mapayapa. “Alam kong alam mo kung ano ang mangyayari.” Natapos na pala ang tawag. “Sasama ka ba sa kanila?” tanong ko sa kanya.

Mayroon silang grupo na kung saan kinakalaban nila ang gustong manakop sa aming lugar. Matataas na opisyal sa gobyerno ang gustong bumili ng lupain dito pero nag-alsa sila dahil kapag hinayaan nila na ‘yon, maraming mawawalan ng hanapbuhay. Dalawang taon na ang nakaraan nang mangyari ang isang giyera laban dito dahil ipinipilit talaga ng gobyerno ang kanilang gusto, gamit ang dahas at madayang pamamaraan sapagkat hindi sumang-ayon ang mga tao rito. “Oo, tungkulin namin na protektahan ang mga tao rito, Sarah,” sagot niya. “Baka may mangyaring masama sa’yo...” “Huwag ka nga mag-isip ng ganyan.” At sa sandaling iyon, niyakap niya ako nang mahigpit. Kinabukasan, narinig ko mula sa labas ang s i gaw at p a g h i k b i n g a k i n g b iye na n papasok ng aming tahanan. Ano kaya ang dahilan ng kumaripas niyang takbo at ang kirot sa kaniyang tono?

pagsisi habang

“Si Luisito! Si Luisito! Ang anak ko! Si Sa unang tapak niya sa aming pintuan, napaluhod at muling humagulgol.

Luisito!” siya’y

Nakaramdam ako ng kabog sa aking puso at ako’y napatulala at natigilan dahil ako’y kinukutuban nang masama. “Inay, anong nangyari kay Luisito? Bakit… bakit… ano.. ano ang nangyari sa asawa ko?” Hindi ko na mawari ang kaguluhang pumapasok sa aking isipan. “Ate Sarah, si Kuya… natagpuang nakahandusay at wala nang buhay sa gitna ng hacienda…” Imik ni Chona, ang nakababatang kapatid ni Luisito.

‘Tila gumuho ang mundo ko nang malaman ko na wala na siya, an g minamahal kong asawa. Paano ako mabubuhay nang wala siya? Paano ko papalakihin mag-isa ang aming mga anak? Anong sasabihin ko sa kanila? Sariwa pa rin sa aking isipan ang alaala ng kahapon, sa kaniyang huling pamamaalam, sa aming huling pagyayakapan. ‘Yon na pala ang huling yakap ko sa kanya. Sana ay tinagalan ko pa. Sana ay hindi ko siya hinayaang umalis. illustration by Princess Jaimary Solacito

May Old Times by Beatrice Elaine Gamboa

Be Healed

Shoulders back, posture straight, chin up, legs crossed, my mind has to circle around those every day. I feel like a to-do list rather than a woman. Mother scolds me all day about poise and grace, but I feel more like a dog than her only daughter in this place. "Jeanette! Quit staring outside, you still haven't finished your books!" My mother Marie furiously slaps her fan onto my hand. "Ow! Mother this is unfair, shouldn't I be getting just as much physical exercise like Scott? I would die just to try football!" "Nonsense!" she huffs dismissively. She claims that I sound more absurd than saying that pigs can fly, "A woman should keep the house in shape, my love, muscle and endurance should be just for men." She hands me a stack of books and hurries down to the kitchen. "I can lift romance novels and cookbooks far heavier than Father's new television, why am I prohibited from joining such events?” Incredulous, I set the books aside. "Even you, mother. You carry that humongous pot of porridge on the table whenever Father asks you to cook." Silence fills the house, only faint cheering from outside echo and eventually— her distant sigh from the kitchen. I stand up, concerned. Yes, I’m agitated but I just want to get my point across without making her too upset. Mother is by the counter with a palm pressing on a

chopping board, but her eyes are on the field where Scott is playing. Panicked, I realize I’ve never seen her this forlorn and I think, ‘What did I say to trigger her?’ She turns to me suddenly and beckons me to her room. I follow. She pulls out a small chest under their master bed and it opens up to particles of dust and items of memorabilia. I stare in awe and in sudden confusion as my mother hands me a photo of herself. "I was once a player too, Jean. Football was once my domain but I was prohibited by your grandfather. My dreams fell off the clouds but I wanted Scott to continue what I loved to do, since I couldn't.” I don’t understand, it was accepted before but why not now? Why are we stuck doing the minimum? Why can’t we challenge ourselves to do something different? Out of the ordinary? Why are we forbidden? "You know how society is Jeanette. Men are viewed as more superior than women." But who said they are for a lifetime? Who is stopping us from leading different lives from other men, from other women? "Throw in your trousers, Mother, quickly!" I say to her, harridly and out of breath, before I run over to my room. Mother is momentarily stunned, but proceeds to her room with a swiftness in her steps. By the time she’s by the doorway, I could clearly see her look of trepidation. Her smile, however, tells me that this could be a push to the right direction. By the entrance stairs we stand in our striking trousers. Mother’s pants are a bit tight on the calves, but they exactly fit her otherwise. "Scott! Pass to me!" I run to Scott, kicking the ball to Mother as it goes close to me. She shrieks in happiness as she feels her foot touch the ball once again.

Acknowledgement

hese past few months have been an arduous journey, but it isn’t without its anchors and masts to pull it through. It is my honor to recognize the invaluable support and esteem on behalf of The Shield Publication. The success of this Literary Folio was due to the unwavering support, guidance, and assistance of several individuals who poured their efforts and talents into this work of literature. To its staff who shared their expertise, cooperation, encouragement, and personal time to the completion of the said folio, unconditional gratitude and appreciation are extended to the following: To the Almighty Father, the author of knowledge and wisdom. His divine providence is a compass harnessed by the folio to reach its completion. To Mrs. Wisah M. Reyes, The Shield Publication Adviser and other SJS-LS Mentors who helped in honing the skills, passion, and drive of the staff members. For lending their professional advice and support, which has been extremely beneficial to the progress of this folio. To The Shield Publication Alumni, their undying commitment and love to the publication has served as an inspiration for the succeeding staff members to continually produce works of excellence and quality. To classmates and friends, The Shield Staff’s support system. Their encouraging words and support have fueled motivation for the staff members in times of distress and despondence. And to the contributors, writers, graphic artists, and layout editors, the few who chose to accept the calling of the school publication. Their drive to express their talents, skills, and creativity has made all of this possible.

The Shield Publication Staff Mrs. Wisah Reyes The Shield Adviser

Angeli Marie Semblante Editor-in-Chief

Aizelle Marie Makilan Associate Editor

Mariness Althea Sembrano Literary Editor

Katrina Gwen Cobias Azrinaz Azil De La Cruz Assistant Literary Editors

Fenniel Faith De Pedro Managing Editor

Fiona Tarrazona Layout Artist

Contributors

Graphic Artists

Kent Nico Balondro Julieane Norine Cuenca Jerwen Kiev Del Cano Beatrice Elaine Gamboa Andrea Kaye Golez DIamella Guliman Isabella Fei Peña Liohona Haley Javelona Christel Marie Maquiling Adriana Montepio Janine Yap Fenniel Faith De Pedro Kaori Jash Hirose Jhodie May Salomon Princess Jaimary Solacito