Mahal Magpakailanman Mga Tula Kakabit An

MAHAL
MAGPAKAILANMAN
Poems in Filipino & English
_____________________________________
E. SAN JUAN, Jr.
Philippines Cultural Studies Center

Storrs, Connecticut
2
Copyright © E. San Juan, Jr. 2011

All rights reserved
ISBN 978-1-257-84077-9
Published by
Philippines Cultural Studies Center
117 Davis Road, Storrs, CT 06268, USA
CONTACT: philcsc@gmail.com
philcsc@sbcglobal.net
3
CONTENTS / NILALAMAN
Problema ng Makata sa Panahon ng Terorismo / 5

Biyernes ng Hapon sa Oktubre / 9
Harana sa Isang Kasama, Hinahamon ang Tadhana / 11
Itaga sa Bato / 15
Tagsibol sa Den Haag, Nederland / 19
Punta Spartivento / 21
Pagbaybay sa Transisyonal na Landas ng Pagbabago / 25
Pahiwatig ng Armadong Paraluman / 27
Salamisim / 31
Kailangan Lamang, Idugtong at Pagkabitin / 35
Montage: Tatlong Kuha ng Baguio City / 39
Simulakrang Abot-tanaw / 46
Biyaya ng Tagapagligtas / 48
Libog / Jouissance / 52
Mitsa ng Parikalang Umuklos sa Bituka / 62
Sutrang Kayumanggi / 64
Ang Tatlong Tukso / 68
Ayon Kay D. J. Alvaro / 71
Isang Eksena Mula sa Las Vegas, Nevada / 75
Dalumat ni Felix Razon sa Harap ng Boston Harbor / 78
Ang Pagpaslang Kay Rebelyn Pitao / 82
Paglaho ng Buwan / 86
Dalit sa Pagdiriwang Bago Sumapit ang Huling Pagtutuos / 92
Pagsasanay Para sa Bagong Internasyonal / 96
Elehiya sa Leuven / 100
Kung Sakaling Hindi na Tayo Magkita Muli / 104
Bukas May-Nilad! / 108
Mahal, Magpakailanman / 112
4
ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS
With a few exceptions, the poems in Filipino (here

followed by their English versions) included in this volume first
appeared in previous collections: Alay sa Paglikha ng Bukang-
liwayway (Ateneo University Press), Sapagkat Iniibig Kita (U.P.
Press), Salud Algabre (University of San Agustin Press), Bukas, May-
Nilad! (LuLu.com), Balikbayang Mahal: Passages from Exile, and
Sutrang Kaymanggi (Philippines Cultural Studies Center).
I want to thank Charlie Veric for his translations, and the
following kasamas for various help: Lulu Torres-Reyes, Joseph Lim,
Michael Viola, Karina Bolasco, Tomas Talledo, Kenneth Bauzon,
Lester Ruiz, Jeffrey Cabusao, Efren Abueg, Roger Mangahas, Ave
Perez Jacob, Sarah Raymundo, R. C. Asa, Judy Taguiwalo, Rio
Mondelo, Delfin Tolentino Jr., Nonilon Queano, Joi Barrios,
Malou Jacob, Roland Tolentino; Jorshinelle Sonza; and the editors
of Ideya and Liwayway. I also want to express my gratitude to
Reynaldo Bautista and his family for their warm hospitality; and to
Patrick Lim, Enrique Fausto and Markyn Kho for their comments
on “The Three Temptations” in the Internet. Thanks also for their
solidarity to Prof. Ekaterina Baklanova (Moscow State University).
Prof. Pauline Eadie (University of Nottingham); Csaba Polony,
editor of Left Curve; Sister Josephine Bacaltos; Fathers Lope
Lesigues and Ino Cueto; Prof. Peter McLaren (University of
Auckland); Ruth de Leon; and Julia Camagong and Robert Roy of
Philippine Forum, New York City.
Without the support of Delia D. Aguilar, this book would
not have materialized; I dedicate this book to her. and also to
Karin and Eric for their inspiration.
--E. SAN JUAN, Jr.
5
Problema ng Makata sa Panahon ng Terorismo
Nangungulila Tila luho’t karangyaan
Habang patuloy ang kabuktutan kasamaan

Terorismo ng Estadong neokolonyal Dahas ng militar at pulis
Patuloy ang pandurukot pagpaslang
Ilang libong biktima ng Oplan Bantay Laya—di na mabilang
Kamakailan, 57 biktima ng masaker sa Maguindanao

Pinagbabaril ang mga mukha’t katawan
Nilapastangan pa ang maselang bahagi ng mga babaeng pinatay
Wala na bang hiya Wala na bang dignidad ang Pilipino?
Karumal-dumal Kahindik-hindik
Pagkatapos ng Auschwitz Buchenwald Intramuros
Barbaridad ng mga pasistang Aleman at Hapon
Sampu ng mga namatay sa Hiroshima at Nagasaki
Payo ni Theodore Adorno, pantas sa sining at pilosopiya,

Wala na’ng kabuluhan ang sining at tula—
Ang tutula pa, talagang tulala!
Ngunit lahat ba’y sakop na ng politika ng oportunismo’t dahas

ng Estado?
Ng gahasa’t pangungulimbat?
Kasama, pwede ba’ng lumihis sa linyadong programa?
Pwede ba’ng ipakawalan ang isang buntong-hininga

6
Pagtutol sa kabuktutang umiiral?

Habang pinakikiramdaman ang ngiti sa matang pumilantik
Hinagka’t sumimsim
Saglit lamang
Luwalhating kay tamis sumisirit namumuro

Saglit lang
Nanuot sa bawat himaymay lubos labis

Saglit lang
Nangalisag sa bangis ng kalmot at kagat

Saglit lamang
Sagad-sagad sumisidhing labis lubos namumuro

Saglit lang
Umabot sa kasukdulang putok ng nasa sa laman

Lumbay ng paalam sa pagkaalam
Minsan lamang ang salagimsim

Kaluluwa’y nagkabuhol-buhol sa braso’t binti
Sa lalamunan anong hapdi’t pait
Kusang-loob na pagtatalik mula sa paraisong
Bagamat walang kamataya’y tinalikdan
Saglit lamang
Ay naku, muling hagkan
Apoy ng halik walang taros walang awa kung saan-saan

Walang katapusan
7
The Problem of the Poet in a Time of Terrorism
Mourning alone This looks like ostentatious luxury

While wickedness obscenities continue
Terrorism of the neocolonial Sate Violence by the police and
military
Forced “disappearances” and extra-judicial murders continue
So many victims of the regime’s Oplan Bantay Laya—
impossible to count
Recently, 57 victims in the Maguindanao massacre

Their faces and bodies mutilated by gunfire
Even the genitals of women slain were not spared
Do Filipinos still have any shame any dignity?
Terrible atrocities Horrendous

After Auschwitz Buchenwald Intramuros
Theodore Adorno, sage of art and philosophy, counseled us:
Poetry is useless, worthless—
He who dares to declaim an ode is an imbecile!
But is everything dominated by the politics of opportunism and
the State’s barbarism? By rape and plunder?
Comrade, may I be permitted to deviate from the party line?

May I release a sigh from the heart
In protest against the horrors prevailing?
While intuiting the smile from eyes flicking

Embraced and sucked
For only an instant
8
Bliss so intense hissing

For only an instant
Penetrating to every fiber of the flesh to the bone reaching

beyond
For only an instant
Hair bristling ferocious scratch and bite

For only an instant
Up to the edge seething beyond over-reaching

For only an instant
Mounting to the climax flesh’s desire exploding

Grief at goodbye to our knowing each other
Once only this premonition
Souls knotted together limbs and arms entwining

In the throat how bitter and painful
Without any intent this coupling from a paradise

Refused despite intimations of immortality
Only for an instant
Ay god, embracing you again

Fire from kisses without pity without mercy everywhere
Seeking endless
9
Biyernes ng Hapon sa Oktubre
Sa hapong taglagas may sugat na umaantak

Sa lamat ng mga kalsadang aspalto sa lungsod na dating
pastulan ng mga katutubong Indyang Pequot.
Anong kabulaanan ang itinatago ng mga kortina sa

durungawan?
Hindi alam ng mga kalapati kung anong kulay ng pag-asa.
Naupos na sigarilyo’y ibinurol ko sa tabi ng Tulay ng mga

Palaka
Habang patungo ang prusisyon ng trapik sa Foxboro Casino
na pag-aari ng Indyang Pequot.
Kung bakit sumingit sa isip ang Abu Sayyaf?

Sa takipsilim ng taglagas sinisilip sa gunita ang kutob at kilabot
bago tayo naglakbay patungong Amerika.
(Oktubre 1, 2005, Willimantic, Connecticut, USA)

10
Friday Afternoon in October
In the autumn afternoon a wound festers

in the crack of the asphalt roads in the city once a pasture field
for the native Pequot Indians.
What fraud and deceptions do the window-curtains hide?

Doves and pigeons do not know the color of hope.
My cigarette stubb I interred beside the Bridge of Frogs

while the traffic procession headed for the Foxboro Casino now
owned by the Pequots.
But why does the Abu Sayyaf sneak into the mind?
In the Fall’s twilight hour I sneak into memory ‘s fissure, a
voyeur filled with
apprehension and terror
before we journeyed to America.
11
Harana sa Isang Kasama, Hinahamon ang Tadhana
Pambihira ka
Matatag matingkad mabagsik ang luntiang apoy sa iyong mga

mata
Habang dumarampi ang hamog ng umaga
Sa iyong pisnging hinog sa pangarap ng dinukot at
ibinilanggong kinabukasan--
Nagliliyab ang iyong tapang, nakapapaso ang dingas ng iyong
determinasyon--
Nabighani sa alindog ng iyong dangal habang lugmok sa

panaginip
Nangahas ang kaluluwang lumantad madarang, nahimok ng
kung anong bagwis
Ng tukso sa bulong ng iyong labi’t galaw, tuloy naligaw sa
paglalakbay--
Walang sindak mong binalangkas ang ordeng mapanganib at

binungkal ang landas
Namumukod sa madla, buntalang motor/dynamo ng bukang-
liwayway….
Kahit sumabog ang pulbura sa mundong binagtas ng iyong

budhi, wala kang takot
Hawak ang sulo ng katarungan, sumusugod ka--
Siklab ng huling paghuhukom, O armadong anghel--

bumabangon sa iyong bisig at kamao ang mga biktima
ng imperyalismo
12
Upang bawat nilalang ay magkaroon ng pambihirang katangian

tulad mo—
Upang maging pangkaraniwan ang iyong pambihirang giting at
kariktan--
O Paraluman ng pag-asa’t pagnanais, sisikapin kong ipagbunyi

ang dahas ng iyong kabayanihan
Ang binhing inihasik ng talim ng iyong pagpapasiya
Bagamat baliw akong nakasubsob sa hiwaga ng guniguning
masalimuot,
pinagtatalik ang nitroglycerine ng pagnanasa
at titis ng tadhana--
Walang makapipigil sa iyo, matatag at mabagsik, luntiang apoy

ng himagsik kayumanggi,
humahagibis ang katawan mong lumalagablab
yakap ang bulalakaw ng pagkakapantay-pantay
at yapos ng sanghaya
ng pambansang kasarinlan.
13
Serenade for a Comrade, Defying Fate
You’re extraordinary
Strong vibrant fierce is the verdant fire in your eyes

As the morning dew descends
On your cheeks ripe with the dream of an abducted and
incarcerated future—
Your courage rages, searing is the fire of your determination—
Spellbound by the charm of your dignity while intoxicated with

dreams
The soul attempts to bare itself, daring to burn, propelled by
what wing
Of enticements in the whisper of your lips and gestures, and so
lost in the journey
Fearlessly you framed the perilous order and paved the way
Chosen among the people, celestial dynamo of daybreak…
Even if gunpowder explodes in the world where your conscience

treads, you’re unafraid
Holding the torch of justice, you charge—
Flare of last judgment, O armed angel—

rising on your arm and fist are the victims of imperialism
so that every creature will have an extraordinary
character like you—
14
So that ordinary will be your extraordinary valor and beauty—
O Muse of hope and desiring, I will strive to celebrate the vigor

of your heroism
The seeds multiplied by your sharp judgment
Though I have madly fallen for the mystery of a thorny

imagination, wedding the
nitroglycerine of desire and spark of destiny—
No one can stop you, solid and fierce, verdant fire

of kayumanggi revolt,
your blazing body zooms
clasping the meteor of equality
embracing the dignity
of national sovereignty.
15
Itaga Sa Bato
Naghiwalay tayo noong Disyembre 1991 sa kanto ng Blumentritt

at Avenida Rizal.
Ka Felix Razon, natatandaan mo ba?
Bungkalin mo ang kalansay sa apog at lumot ng gunita

upang masapol ang katotohanang taliwas sa kabuktutang
naghahari.
Inilantad mo ang kabulukan at pagtataksil ng gobyerno't militar
sampu ng pagpuputa ng mga premyadong artista't intelektuwal
kaya hindi nakapagtataka, hinuli ka't ikinulong, binugbog,

ginutum
sa bartolina, kinoryente ang bayag, parusang makaabo't-dili--
Diyos ng awa, sinong makapagbubulag-bulagan sa krimeng
nangyayari
araw-araw sa bilanggong pulitikal? Sinong testigo ang
magpapatunay?—
dahil (bintang nila) ikaw raw ay komunista.
Umaambong takip-silim
nang tayo'y maghiwalay, patungo ka na sa asilo ng Utrecht,
Holland….
Samantala sa Isabela at Davao, timog at hilaga ng kapuluan,
patuloy
ang paghihimagsik ng masa, ang "di-kagila-gilalas na
pakikipagsapalaran"
ng karaniwang mamamayan, katuwang ang mga kapatid sa
Bagong Hukbong Bayan….
16
Ilang taon na ang nakapamagitan sa atin….

Makulit ka pa rin, sinusurot ang lahat ng kasuklam-suklam na
kamyerdahan
Ngunit kaagapay ng iyong paglipat, napansin ko sa mga sulat
mo
may bahid ng pagkainis, pagkasuya, pagtatampo, hinakdal—
totoo ba ito?
sapagkat (wika mo) nakalimutan na ang sakripisyong naihandog
mo sa bayan….
Yumao ka na, Ka Felix, naglagalag sa gubat ng mga lungsod,
kaulayaw ang
mga ulilang lansangan at malungkot na katedral at palasyo sa
Europa, habang
sa Nepal, Venezuela, Bolivia, Palestina at iba pang bansa
unti-unting sinasakop ng mga komunista
--mabalasik at matalisik— ang mga kuta ng imperyalismo
kaya kahit na walang makaalala sa iyong paglilingkod sa
kilusan, di kailangan,
ipagbubunyi ang iyong katapangan at katapatan, kahit bawal ito
at mapanganib….
Ka Felix Razon, saan ka man naroroon, dinggin mo ang
pahimakas kong ito:
Alimuom at trapik ng nagsalikop na kalsada sa Blumentritt at
Dimasalang
ang sumaksi sa ating huling pagniniig, at itong katagang
hinugot sa alabok
ang magsisilbing memoryal sa iyong puntod o saan mang
larangan ng pakikibaka,
nawa'y maging mabalasik at matalisik ang talinghagang
naikintal ko rito—
pintig at pitlag ng panambitan,
nagpupuyos sa angil ng tagulaylay.
17
Remember Always
We parted last December on the corner of Blumentritt and

Avenida Rizal—
Comrade Felix Razon, do you still remember?
Dig up the skeletons in the lime and lichen of memory

to strike the truth opposing the wicked rule.
You exposed the decadence and duplicity of the government and
military
including the prostitution of laurelled artists and intellectuals
not surprisingly, you were arrested and jailed, beaten,
starved in the dungeon, testicles electrocuted, unbearable
punishment.
Merciful God, who could play blind to the crime

that happens every day to political prisoners?
Who are the witnesses that will testify?—
because (they say) you’re a communist.
Twilight had fallen
when we parted, you were leaving for the asylum of Utrecht,
Holland…
Meanwhile in Isabela and Davao, north and south of the
archipelago, the revolution of the masses continues, “un-
spectacular adventure” of ordinary citizens, side by side
with kinsfolk from the New People’s Army…
Years have already come between us…
You’re still a tease, infuriating all that is dreadful with
distractions.
But with your transfer, I have sensed in your writing
a trace of irritation, loathing, rancor, dejection,
resentment—is this true?
18
because (you say) forgotten is the sacrifice that you’ve

made for the nation…
You’ve left already, Comrade Felix Razon, flâneur in urban
forests, among the deserted roads and sad cathedrals and
palaces of Europe,
while in Nepal, Venezuela, India, Mexico, Peru and other

countries the communists, little by little, lay siege—
grim and determined—
to the barricades of imperialism, this much is known,
so, even if no one remembers your service to the
movement, no need, your courage and loyalty will be
celebrated, even if it is delicate and treacherous…
Comrade Felix Razon, wherever you may be, hear my testimony:

Haze and traffic of convoluted streets in Blumentritt and
Dimasalang were the witnesses to our last engagement,
and these words drawn from dust shall be the
monument to your grave or
whatever field of struggle, may the metaphors
that I etch here
be grim and determined—
beat and vigor of mourning,
gathering in the roar of bereavement…
[Translation: Charlie Veric]

19
Tagsibol sa Den Haag, Nederland
Mula sa bubong ng simbahang Christus Triumfator sumungaw

ang araw
at sa Pax Christi sumikat ang balintataw ng hatol:
"Guilty!" ang rehimeng U.S.-Arroyo--deklara ng Permanent
People's Tribunal--
Mainit na ang hipo ng amihan sa iyong pisngi, Karolina....
Nagtatangka nang bumuka ang buko ng mga bulaklak
sa pintuan ng Hotel Van Der Valk de Bijhorst
Subalit sina Ka Beltran, ang maraming kasama sa Tagaytay at
Muntinlupa, ay nakabilanggo pa rin
Patuloy pa rin ang pagpatay at pambubusabos
Patuloy pa rin, sa kabila ng pagtutol, ang paglaganap ng dilim
Dito sa maaliwalas na lansangan ng Den Haag, walang
dagundong ng motorsiklo,
walang mga taong naka-bonet….
Walang baril na nakaumang sa pagitan ng mga hita ng dafodil
Ngunit bakit hindi panatag ang loob mo, Karolina?
Tumatagos sa buhok mo ang silahis, tumatalab sa pilat ng sugat
sa ulo mong inupakan at binasbasan ng teroristang
Estado
Habang pinapakiramdaman ang gumigising at gumagapang na
risoma ng tulip sa matris ng lupa
Unti-unting bumabangon mula sa panaginip
unti-unting bumubuka
At sa banaag ng pagdamay
masilayan ang iyong ngiti--
Binabaklas ang tanikala ng bukang-liwayway ng iyong labi--
Panahon na ng Christus Triumfator: bayang lumalaban!
[Amsterdam, Nederland, 3/26/2007]

20
Spring in the Hague, Netherlands
From the roof of the Christus Triumfator church the sun leaped
out and from the Pax Christi flashed
the judgment gaze:
“Guilty!” for the U.S.-Arroyo regime—declared the Permanent
People’s Tribunal—
Warm is the north-eastern breeze’s touch on your cheeks,
Karolina….
Buds of flowers are plotting to open up
by the door of the Hotel Van Der Valk de Bijhorst
But Comrades Beltran and our brothers and sisters in the
Tagaytay military detention camp and in Muntinlupa
are still rotting in prison
The murders and abuses proceed as before
despite protests, darkness continues to shroud our homeland
Here in the seemingly wide-open streets of The Hague, no roar
of motorcycles
revving up, not a sign of killers wearing bonnets
No rifles sticking out from between the thighs of the daffodils
But why are you not at peace, Karolina?
Penetrating through the web of your hair, the sun’s rays also
caress the scar of the wound on your head
targeted and ‘christened’ by the terrorist State
While apprehensive of the rousing of the tulips’ rhizome,
crawling in the earth’s womb
inch by inch rising up from dreams slowly opening up
and in the radiance of our sharing
hoping to glimpse your smile---
Your lips breaking apart the chains binding the morning’s
sunburst—
This is the time of Christ Avenging: the masses fighting back!
21
Punta Spartivento
“In the naked and outcast, seek love there.” –William Blake
Kamusmusa’y pinaglahuan, Mahal ko

Hinubdang kariktan ng lawa, bundok at ulap na maaliwalas--
Bakit malulungkot?
Sa kabilang ibayo nagliliyab ang mga bulaklak: pula dilaw asul

o kulay luntian
Ngunit ang nakaraan ay sumisingit sa ganda’t aliwalas ng
kalikasan
Bumibiyak sa pinagbuklod na puso’t humahati sa pinagtipan
Nagugunita ang pinakasasabikan
“Ininis sa hukay ng dusa’t pighati”
Alaala ng kinabukasan—anong balighong simbuyo ang
naibulalas ng dumaragsang hangin?
Sa dalampasigan ng lawa dito sa Punta Spartivento
kung saan naghihiwalay ang hangin—
sa kaliwa o sa kanan--
Tila walang pagpapasiya, itinutulak sa kaliwa o kinakabig sa
kanan….
Pinaghahati ng tadhana o kapalaran?
O itinitulak ng pagkamuhi, kinakabig ng pagmimithi?
Anong uring ibon doon sa kabilang pampang—

pumapaimbulog pumapailanlang?
Tila kuko ng mandaragit ang humahagupit ngayon
Nagsisikip ang dibdib, balisa sa pagkabigo, pinagtiim ang
bagang
22
Buhay ma’y abuting magkalagot-lagut—walang kailangan….
Doon ang pag-ibig sa mga hinagupit ng walang-katarungang

orden, doon sa mga dukha’t ibinukod ng kabuktutan….
Agaw-dilim sa Punta Spartivento, humhati’t bumibiyak sa agos

ng panahon at karanasan
Sa pangungulila, kumikintal sa gunita ang mga mandirigmang
sumakabilang buhay
Di matatarok ang lalim ng pag-ibig sa tinubuang lupa
Patuloy ang paglalakbay sa kabila ng hanggahang
humahati’t naghihiwalay sa atin
Mahal ko, namimilaylay sa iyong labi ang damdaming biyaya ng

nahubdang kamalayan—
Nakintal sa dalumat, sa pagitan ng panganib at dahas, ang
kailangan at di-kailangan
Ang walang halaga at may halaga, pinaghahati’t
pinaghihiwalay…
Pinagpala ang mga kaibigang namundok at nag-alay ng
kanilang buhay
Pinagpala ang mga walang pag-aaring nagdusa’t nagdurusa

para sa kinabukasan
Pinagpala ang mga bayaning naghiwalay at humati,

nagbukod at nagbiyak
Magtatagpo ang lahat

sa Punta Spartivento ng pakikipagtuos.
23
Punta Spartivento
Innocence is the place of loss, my Love,

The naked splendor of the lake mountain cloud is for us
nature’s blessed fruit.
On the other shore burn the flowers that signify the promised
grace…
But what wing of the past insists itself spreading over the beauty
and clarity of our meeting? cleaving the desires that
have been bound together,
dividing the chosen?
Those who have been savaged “suffocated in the grave of
misery and grief” are remembered…
Future’s memories—
what news does the howling wind bring?
On the banks of Punta Spartivento, the waves meet and break
up— to the left or to the right, there and here—as if
undecided
pushed to the left or pulled to the right
separated by fate or chance?
pushed by hatred, pulled by desire?
What sail has set out from the other coast—retreating
advancing upward downward?
The claws of a ravenous vulture are now lacerating—

The traveler strains to comprehend the crimes that have
happened and are happening—
“Even if life is taken, broken”—how many steps more?
The fates of those that the unjust order had smashed are now
connecting,
Joined by those that perversion had banished and drowned…
Night is falling in Punta Spartivento…
24
leaving and cleaving in the stream of experience…

In bereavement, the dead warriors strike at conscience
leaping over the harbor’s claws and fangs
that sever and separate—
My love, from your lips droops the dawn of a promised grace,

set in the wound of grief and glory,
of necessity and the unnecessary,
of the worthless and the worthy, while
locked in embrace, breathless, resisting the tornado on
the shore…
Blessed are the multitude who are the victims of oligarchs and
compradors
in the gash of days gone by and of the
future whizzing by
Blessed are the comrades who broke away and broke up, who
parted and divided
The fugitives and the followers, those who fought and those who
left, will be known—
Everything will meet at the Punta Spartivento of the revolution.

25
Pagbaybay sa Transisyonal na Landas ng Pagbabago

Napakapanganib ng tulay na ito, delikadong nakabitin sa
hangin, nakakatakot--
Sana’y may iba pang daan sa kaliwang matatawid palayo sa
kilabot ng gubat at disyerto …
Kung bumigay ito, tiyak na malulunod ako, ikaw rin; ngunit
kung wala ito
Walang dudang nabaon na tayo’t natodas sa dahas ng
rumaragasang ilog.
Nakaraos din, sa malao’t madali, ngunit kung makuhang
magbalik-tanaw
Napagnilay ko kung gaano kalalim ng tubig at anong hirap ang
napakatarik na hagdan paakyat;
Pagal, nais ko sanang mayroon tayong matibay na tulay, sariling
atin, upang
Sinumang manlalakbay ay makatawid nang matiwasay, walang
kutob ng pangamba.
Sa palagay ko, kung nais natin ng isang maasaha’t matipunong
tulay
Dapat tayo na mismo ang magpasiyang kumuha ng karapat-
dapat na materyales at tuluyan baguhin ang luma’t
minanang tulay--
Mangahas maglambitin tayo sa banging mapanganib tulad ng
mga manggagawang yumayari ng matatayog at
kapakipakinabang na gusali--
Mga bayaning makalupa, pulang mandirigma, pinilit ng
pangangailangan,
Tayo’y natirang buhay, taglay ang karanasan, kalooba’t
determinasyong ingatan
At pangalagaan ang trapik sa bisa ng katwirang malikhain,
ng rebolusyonaryong pagtitiwala sa isa’t isa, sampu ng
pakikipagtulungan sa Nagkakaisang Hanay--
Siyang tanging paraang nalalabi upang lahat tayo’y makatawid
sa kaliwa at lubos na makalaya!
26
Mapping the Transitional Passage to Renewal
Exceedingly perilous is this bridge, precariously suspended from

air, frightening—
Would that there is another way on the left that we can cross far
away from the terror of the wilderness and the desert.
If this gives way, no doubt I’ll drown, and you too; but if this is
not here
No doubt also that we would be buried and given up for lost,
drowned in the violent fury of this river.
Well, we passed through, sooner than later, but if one summons
the courage to look back
One would realize how deep the water is indeed, and how
arduous the climb up that stair;
Exhausted, how I wish we had a sturdy bridge, one that’s really
ours,
So that any traveler can cross without anxiety, without any panic
attack.
In my view, if we want a trustworthy, robust bridge
We ourselves should decide to choose the raw materials and
without so much dilly-dallying replace the old bridge we
inherited—
Dare to swing from this dangerous bridge like the workers
constructing lofty and useful buildings—
Worldly heroes, Red fighters, compelled by necessity,
We survived, left on the battlefield to live on, possessing a
wealth of experience, self-confidence
and determination to take care
And nurture the masses marching forward with creative reason,
with revolutionary trust in each person’s capabilities,
Together with the persevering and conscientious collaboration of
all within the broad United Front--
That’s the only way remaining for us so that we can all cross
leftward and be completely free!
27
Pahiwatig ng Armadong Paraluman
I.
Mahal,
Nagliliyab ang lansangan ng Islang Puting Bato nang ikaw’y
lumisan
Sa iyong balintataw nagtalik ang liwanag at dilim
Nagtipan ang luha’t ngiti sa hanggahan ng pangako’t alaala
Saang likong landas tayo naghiwalay, nakipagsapalaran?
Pumalaot ka sa lagim ng lungsod, napigtal sa diwa’t nakintal sa

dibdib
Patnubay ang masang kumalinga, sabik sa paglaya’y naglakbay
Bagwis sa budhi’y pumailanlang sa madugong larangan
Sa gilid ng bangin naglamay, sa gubat ng gunita naghintay
sa tukso ng mapagkandiling bituin.
Sa bawat pintig ng iyong kaluluwa, sa bawat himaymay

Nagpupumiglas ang sinag ng kinabukasan—
Luningning ng pag-asa, halimuyak at alindog ng panaginip ng
armadong diwatang kusang naghandog, kumalas,
nagligtas—
28
II.
Mahal,
Nilambungan ng usok at apoy ang gayuma ng iyong pilik-mata
Humagip ang bagwis ng guniguning lumipad lumapag
Lumusong ka’t tinahak ang tulay sa nilunggating ligaya
Sa dusa’t aliw ng busabos, binalangkas mo ang hiwaga ng
darating.
Saang dulo ng landas kaya tayo magtatagpo, abot-tanaw?

Binaybay mo ang ilog, dumaramay sa udyok ng
mapagpaubayang batis sa lambak
Sa takipsilim gumapang ang sugatang katawan sa dalampasigan
Sinasalubong ang luwalhating biyaya, agos ng bukang-
liwayway.
Sa bawat pintig ng iyong kaluluwa, sa bawat himaymay

Nagpupumiglas ang sinag ng kinabukasan—
Luningning ng pag-asa, halimuyak at alindog ng panaginip ng
armadong diwatang kusang naghandog, kumalas,
nagligtas—

29
Intimations of the Armed Paramour
I.
Beloved,
The thoroughfares were burning when you left
In your eyes cohabited darkness and light
Tears and smiles promise and remembrance shared encounters
At which turn of the road did our ways part?
You set out alone drifting into the grim city horizon
You journeyed forth yearning for freedom
Wings in your psyche spread out over the bloody battlefield
On the edge of the cliff you held vigil, guardian angel of the
nurturing stars.
At every throb of your soul

Tomorrow strikes out to disentangle itself—
Radiance of hope clasped by the angel freely offering herself,
releasing—
30
II.
Beloved,
Smoke shrouded the fire of your eyelashes
Fantasy’s wings struck back
You bolted up and pursued the bridge far to the limit
You charted the mystery of what’s to come
At which end of the trail shall we meet?

You tracked the hidden valley cradling the relinquishing stream
In the dusk your wounded body crawled
On the shores welcoming the insurgent waves of dawn.
At every throb in the body’s fiber
Tomorrow strikes out to disentangle itself
Radiance of the dream of the armed angel redeeming

31
SALAMISIM: "Sa gitna ng paglalakbay...."
Ilang milyang distansiya ang niyebe sa tuktok ng Dolomiti
mula rito sa Piazza Dante Alighieri

datapwat
ang balat ng leeg mo'y mainit sa hipo ko
Anong destinasyon kaya ang mahuhulaan

sa bituka ng mga kalapating umiikot
sa naghahamong palad ng makata?
Babaylan ng taglamig, Giovanna, pinagdugtong mo

ang konsepto at talinghaga
ngunit
saan kayang bilog ng impiyerno ako isasadlak
ng nagsalupang anghel?
Apoy sa utak (bagwis ng metamorposis)

sa pagitan ng pag-ahon
at paglusong,
walang gabay na pantas sa paglalagalag
kung hindi si
Antonio Gramsci
(nakaluklok sa
yelong purgatoryo
ng bilangguan)
32
tanging patnubay sa laberinto ng komunistang hardin

subalit
sa agwat mula sa niyebeng
nakatiwangwang
at nagliliyab na karsel--
palayain mo, Giovanna, aking mutya!--
sa puwang na iyon
hinagkan kita, niyapos, ikinulong sa aking bisig
habang naglalagablab ang rebolusyon

sa Sierra Madre
(rumaragasang dingas ng paraiso
sa iyong dibdib at buhok)--
umalon, humupa--
hanggang sa magkatupok-tupok
ang kapital ng budhi't tubo ng bait
sa iyong mga halik
[Trento, Italya, 1995]

33
REVERIES: “In the middle of the journey….”
A million miles away the snow perched on the Dolomiti

peaks
from where I stand here
at the Piazza Dante Alighieri
but
the skin of your neck is warm to my touch
What destination may perhaps be divined

in the entrails of the doves flying around
the challenging
hand of the poet?
Sorceress of winter, Giovanna, you dovetailed the concept and

metaphor
but to which circle of inferno will I be hurled
by the earth-borne angel?
Fire in the brain (wings of metamorphosis)
between the descent and the upsurge, no sage guiding
me in this wandering
except Antonio Gramsci

(nestled in the icy
purgatory of his prison cell)
34
the only mentor in the labyrinth of the garden of

communism
but
in the distance between the snow naked in the open air
and the burning dungeon—
liberate us, Giovanna, my beloved—

in that fissure
I grasp you, embrace you, bind you in my arms
while the revolution explodes in a

conflagration
in the mountains of Sierra Madre
(raging fire of paradise in your breast

and hair)
rising in waves, falling—
until the capital of conscience
and the profit of virtue
are gutted by your kisses.

35
Kailangan Lamang, Idugtong at Pagkabitin
….Di na umasa sa kapirasong ass ni Britney Spears “sneaking

into the Philippines”
tuluyang sumabak ang katawan sa rali ng GABRIELA
mula Rotunda hanggang Plaza Miranda—
Nasulyapan kita Walang babala’y sinagi pinadaplisan mo

lamang….
Ay, titi ng Ama, salbakutang kabuktutan ng rehimeng Arroyo!
Paano maibubuo ang body politic mula sa pira-pirasong lamang
ikinalat sa buong daigdig?
Samantala, sentensiyado na si William Corpuz, Pinoy sa

California, USA--
nilaslas niya ang lalamunan ng asawa, nilaslas ng walang
premeditasyon,
di nagulik-ulik-- Nagprotesta ang mga Pinay, walang
pag-aatubili, pati si Eve Ensler ng “Usaping Puk….”
Salbakutang seksismo ba ang dahilan? O sitwasyon ng OFW sa

buong daigdig?
Nangyari ito sa “land of milk and honey”—
Ay, titi ng American Idols at Lea Salonga!
Saksi tayo sa krimeng extrajudicial killings, salvaging, terorismo

ng Estadong neokolonyal habang ilanlibong U.S.
36
“Special Forces” ay lantad na dumarambong,

walang urong-sulong…
Idugtong at pagkabitin lamang ang deliryo ni Corpuz
at habeas corpus--
Nilaslas na ang mga lalamunan nina Shirley Cadapan Karen
Empeno Luisa Posa-Dominado Jonas Burgos at ilan
daan pang dinukot ng rehimeng kriminal--
Ay, titi ng Ama, di mabilang na biktima ng sistemang bulok, ng

ordeng malupit--
Sa pagitan ng Rotunda at Plaza Miranda, walang

premeditasyong hahagkan yayapusin kita
upang tipunin at pagkabitin ang kaluluwa’t katawang
hiniwa’t naihiwalay….
Magkapiling tayo, Mahal, panganib/gayuma
ng madugong kontradiksiyong
sumasabog---
37
The Only Need is to Connect and Fasten
…No longer depending on a piece of Britney Spears’s ass

“sneaking into the Philippines”
the body goes straight to a GABRIELA rally
from Rotunda to Plaza Miranda—
I glanced at you Without warning was sideswiped

you simply giving feelers…
Ay, Father’s prick, dreadful wickedness of the Arroyo regime!
How to build the body politic from parts strewn around the
world?
Meanwhile, William Corpuz, a Pinoy from California, USA, has

been sentenced—
He slashed his wife’s throat, slashed it without premeditation,
no wavering—
The Pinays protested, without hesitation, even Eve Ensler of

“Vagina Mono…”
Is dreadful sexism the reason? Or the situation of OFWs around

the world?
This took place in “the land of milk and honey”—Ay, prick of

American Idol and Leah Salonga!
We are witnesses to the crime of extrajudicial killing, salvaging,

terrorism of the neocolonial State
while thousands of US “Special Forces” blatantly
38
pillage, without
hesitation…
Only link and fasten the delirium of Corpuz

and habeas corpus—
Slashed were the throats of Shirley Cadapan Karen

Empeno Luisa Posa-Dominado Jonas Burgos
and hundreds more that the criminal regime had
abducted—
Ay, Father’s prick, countless victims of a corrupt system, of a

merciless establishment—
Between Rotunda and Plaza Miranda, without premeditation

I will kiss and embrace you
to gather and connect
the body and soul
that have been severed and made alien…
We’re one, Beloved, danger/charm
of a bloody contradiction
exploding—

39
MONTAGE: Tatlong Kuha ng Baguio City
I.
Umuulan noon lumulundong ungol ng tulirong panahon

sa lungsod ng Baguio isang hapon ng Agosto 1986…
Nanuot sa buto ang walang hunos-diling lamig

tumalab sa bawat nagsalabid na himaymay,lumalagos….
Nirambolan ako ng ligalig, Sinta,
ngunit ugong lang ng humihingal na yapos
usok lang ng naupos na halik
sapagkat wala ka sa piling ko…
Ulang umigting ulang tumimo sa butong binabalot ng kutob
ulang umaasar sa kirot at hiwa ng pagsisisi….
Hikbing nagpahibik--nasaan ako?
Pumapayagpag hanggang napalaot
sa bulubunduking tahanan ng mga anito
sumusuray-suray, lulan ang inimbak na gunita--
kanino ilalaan?
Naligaw sa nagkabuhol-buhol na lansangan ng kabihasnang

plastik, dating teritoryo ng mga Igorot na sinakop
ng imperyalismong mabagsik,
doon hinagilap kita, Paraluman ng manlalayag,
sa gubat ng ulan na unti-unting tumalunton ng
landas…
Sandaling nakalimot sa sarili, natulak-nakabig ako
sa isang maulap na tuktok, kung saan
biglang natambad ang tagibang
40
tore ng katedral….
Nakakatulalang bangungot? Diyata?!
Sige, kurutin mo ang pisngi ko, Sinta,upang bumalik sa
kadluan
ng hilakbot at rahuyong pinagmulan.
II.
Umuulan noon walang awang bagsak ng bumubugsong tubig

sa lungsod ng Baguio isang hapon ng Agosto 1986….
Pinakawalan ng mapagbirong kalikasan

ang rumagasang buhos, barumbadong saliw ng hanging
nagngingitngit--
Kinakaligkig na balahibo ng kaluluwa ang umungol, naghanap
sa iyo, Mahal…
Ulang gumiyagis sa taong naligaw

sa nagluksang lansangang inaspalto ng pighati't
inambus na panaginip--
Sa gilid ng iyong natikom na labi namilaylay ang ilanlibong

dalamhati na humati sa 'ting dalawa
lubog sa lagim ng walang pananagutan….
Umuukilkil sa ulirat hanggang ngayon

ang natagpuang biktimang nakalupasay
sa Session Road, katawang isinuka ng duguang matris

ng lipunang haliparot….
Sige, ulang masungit, ulang nanunukso ng patawad

41
hinuhugasan ang isinumpang luad

na bumaklas sa maluhong hibo ng uri ng petiburgis
upang ipaghiganti si Macliing Dulag…
Pinaliguan ang katawan ko ng ulang mabagsik, Mahal,

habang tinatalunton ang liku-likong landas sa bundok
Mirador,
pilit na nilulunok ang pait ng pagtitiis at asim ng pagkabigo,
upang doon salubungin ang timbulan ng ating pag-asa--
Ay naku, makatang sampay-bakod, konting timpi…
Isingkaw sa sikmurang hungkag
ang pagbubulay-bulay ng budhing nabuwal sa
putikang pusali, nangangalap ng mumo
sa pinagmulan….
III.
Umuulan noon…ulang nagkulapol ng ulap at bulang

pumulandit sa lungsod ng Baguio
isang hapon ng Agostong kay panglaw….
Ginimbal ng walang-hiyang kulog ang panaginip ng mga Igorot

at pulot-gata ng mga nagkalimatikang bagong-kasal--
binulabog ng kidlat
ang kapayapaang tumining sandali, nagluwal ng
duwende at paru-paro,
pagkabuwal ng diktaduryang Marcos-USA….
Alimpuyo ng buntong-hininga sa panahong sakmal ng

pangamba, makulimlim, saplot ng agiw at anino
ang guniguning nakalimutang humalakhak….
42
Wala ka sa piling ko, Sinta, kaya naligaw sa pagsugod sa

maburak na tanawin habang binabayo ng ulan
ang katawang dati'y hinimas mo't
hinaplos….
Inaalimpungatan ba ako?
Saang bubong makikisilong ang ulilang nilalang?

Sino ang mapapagkatiwalaan
sa nagsangandaang napasukan?
Nakadipang kaluluwang dinapuan ng takot, Mahal,
sa liblib na sulok ng
Burnham Park nasumpungan kita,
diwatang walang pangalan,
nilambungan ng ulang humahaplit
Paralumang naghuhudyat ng direksiyon,

wala akong kamanyang maisusuob sa iyong altar
kundi pangakong matutuklasan ang kahulugan at
katuturan ng aking buhay
sa bitak ng iyong talampakan--
ang landas patungo sa hamog at halimuyak, sa silahis
at luwalhati ng pagbabagong-buhay
doon sa mga gulod ng pinong pinapatnubayan ng mga anito,

kung saan masisilip sa pagitan ng ulan at ulap
ang ngiti ng mga Igorotang tumatawid sa
tarundon ng terasa
malayo sa lungsod ng Baguio,
kasiping ng mga bituin.
43
MONTAGE: Three Snapshots of Baguio City

I.
It was raining then slouching howl of a bewildered weather
in Baguio City one afternoon in August of 1986….
The careless cold bit into the bone gnawing at the tangled flesh,
penetrating….
Doubt struck me, Beloved,
but mere drone of a breathless embrace mere
smoke of a spent kiss because you were not with me….
Pouring rain rain touching the doubt-covered bone
rain mocking regret’s ache and wound….
Crying beseeching imploring—where was I?
Floundering until beached
on the mountain dwelling of the spirits
staggering, bearing troves of memory—to
be kept for whom?
Lost in the tangled streets of a plastic civilization, former
territory of the Igorot
colonized by savage imperialism,
there I sought you,voyager’s Muse,
in a forest of rain that cleared the paths little by little….
Briefly forgetting myself, I was pushed and pulled
on a cloudy peak where the leaning tower of the
cathedral was revealed….
Confounding nightmare? Maybe not!
All right, pinch my cheek, Beloved,
to return to the cradle of fear and charming beginning.
44
II.
It was raining then merciless fall of torrential water
in Baguio City one afternoon in August 1986….
Mischievous nature let loose
a torrential fall, coarse accompaniment to an indignant wind—
The soul’s shivering hair groaned, seeking you, Beloved….
Rain tormenting a man lost
on a grief-stricken street paved with sorrow and
waylaid dreams….
From the side of your closed lips drooped a thousand heartaches
that separated us deep in the terror of irresponsibility….
Nagging at consciousness until now
was the victim found crouching on Session Road,
body vomited by the bloody womb of a profligate society….
All right, cruel rain, rain coaxing forgiveness cleansing the
accursed land
that broke away from the marvelous flattery of the petit
bourgeois to avenge Macliing Dulag….
Brute rain bathed my body, Beloved, while tracing the twisting
path on Mount Mirador,
forcibly swallowing the bitterness of suffering and
tartness of frustration,
so that the watchtower of our hope might be met there—
Ay naku, fence-sitting poet, have some restraint.…
Fasten to the empty stomach the meditation of a
conscience that fell into a filthy mire, gathering crumbs
from the source….
III.
It was raining then…rain that smeared the clouds and bubbles

45
that burst on Baguio City one lonely August afternoon, 1986….

Shameless thunder disturbed the dreams of the Igorot
and honeymoon of entwining newlyweds—
lightning disturbed the peace that settled briefly,
multiplying dwarves and butterflies,
when the Marcos-US dictatorship collapsed.
Vortex of a sigh in a time gripped by fear, gloomy,
caught in cobwebs and shadows was the phantom that
forgot to laugh….
You were not beside me, Beloved, hence lost, plunging into the
shadowy horizon, rain hammering
the body that you once touched and caressed--
Was I half-awake?
Under what roof should an orphan take shelter? Who to trust at
the crossroads?
Outstretched soul seized by fear, Beloved, in the hidden bend
of Burnham Park I found you, nameless nymph, shrouded
in lashing rain
Muse portending directions, I have no incense to burn at your
altar
but a promise to discover my life’s meaning and worth
in the crack of your foot—
the road to mist and fragrance, to light
and glory of life changing
there on the edge of pine trees that the spirits have blessed,
between rain and clouds can be gleaned
the smiles of Igorot maidens crossing the fence on
the terrace far from Baguio City,
nestling with the stars.

46
Simulakrang Abot-tanaw
Kawiliwili ang silid na ito, hantungan ng iyong paglalakbay.

Halina’t maupo dito sa harap ng punong pino sa may
durungawan.
Di nasaling ng nagmamadaling takbo ng daigdig ang pusong

namamahinga.
Halika’t magnilay tayo sa panahong dumadaloy,

magmuni-muni sa karanasan at pangyayaring
umaatikabong humahabol sa daluyong
ng trapik sa labas.
Sa silangan, may umuusad at lumalagitik na aninong di ko
mahulo….
Sa kanluran, may anasan ng umiihip na hanging di ko alam

kung saan galing….
Walang daan sa harap…
Iyon ay mga bakas lamang ng aking paa.
Nakahuhumaling humimpil sa silid na ito, di ba?
Ngunit
Kung nais mong magpatuloy, sige, huwag magpaabot ng
dilim—
hayo na!
Ang hakbang mo ang lilikha ng landas—
landas na hinihiwa ng tutubi
at sinusukat ng pakpak ng paruparo.
47
Simulacra on the Horizon’s Eyelid
This room is hospitable, the destination of your journey.

Come and sit here in front of this pine tree near this window.
Not touched at all by the headlong rush of business
and the world outside, this heart resting here.
Come and let’s meditate on time flowing by, reflect on the

experiences and events
catching up, breathless, with the stormy traffic outside.
In the East, something’s inching its way here, on the creaking

floor a shadow I can’t figure out…
In the West, whispers borne by winds coming from

I know not where…. No path in front….
Those are only the traces of my own feet.
Intoxicating indeed to station yourself here in this quarter, right?
If you want to proceed, go ahead.

But don’t let darkness discover you here—farewell!
Your strides will create the path—

a trail cut by a dragonfly
and measured by the butterfly’s wings.
48
Biyaya ng Tagapagligtas
1.
Unti-unti umaambon dumagit ang naglambiting

ulap sa panimdim
Patak-patak napigtal ang pangakong nahulog sa matris ng lupa
Naligaw ang umaasong tala sa takip-silim ng pangarap
Dahan-dahan ang pakpak ng guni-guni’y lumilim
humimlay sa iyong bisig
Bumalisbis dumaluyong ang babaeng kagila-gilalas—

Sumasaiyo sumasaatin ang kanyang pusong umiigkas—
Umaapaw ang ligayang biyaya ng tagapagligtas—
2.
Umuulan nang ikaw’y umalis, nakisilong sa mutyang

humarap sa panganib
Umaapaw ang batis, lumalagos sa pader ng tadhanang walang
mukha
Nagpasiya ka, bulong mo’y dasal na tumalab sa kilabot at
hilahil
Unti-unti humupa ang antak ng pagsusumamo, kamao’y
bumuka’t bumigay
49

3.
Dahan-dahang tumikom ang labing bumigkas ng pagbati sa

nagtanang panaginip
Tigil na ang pangungulila-- Sa wakas ng sigwa, gumigising ang
bangkay sa ating pagdamay
Tigil na ang pagtitiis-- Dumulog sa lambing at bagsik hugot sa
katawang inialay
Kumanlong sa gunita ang kaluluwang bumabangon,
nakaumang ang dibdib sa pagsubok ng umaga.

50
The Liberator’s Blessings
1.
Fitful showers around while clouds somersault

surging down the mind’s edge
Drop by drop falls the promise
plunged into the earth’s womb
Lost the sputtering star in reverie’s dusk
Slowly taking care the imagination’s wings fold
and shelter drowsily in your arms.
Crashing down ravaging is this dazzling woman

With you and us her heart unleashing
Overflowing is the rapturous grace of this liberator
2.
It was raining when you left, finding

haven in the muse who confronted danger
Streams rushing beyond penetrating the walls
of fate without visage
You made a choice, your whisper a prayer
that cut the flesh of terror and fury
Bit by bit the painful throb of entreaty subsided
the fist opening and offering
51

3.
Slowly the lips closed, lips uttering welcome

to dreams that eloped
Stop the mourning—At the storm’s end, this cadaver
wakes up to our solidarity
Cease forbearance—Share in the dalliance
ferocity drawn out from the body vulnerable
Uncoiling the soul embraces memory her breast mounted
and aimed at dawn’s gauntlet.

52
Libog / Jouissance
Wala, walang iba pang kailangan Pagkatao ng hayup Nulla

Desideratum
Ako’t ikaw tayo’y isang diwa kambal na budhing biniyak at
inihiwalay
Walang anino o katawan Hermaproditikong kaisahan

Monolitikong identidad
Bago pa humarap sa salamin Bago pa mag-huramentado ang
Oedipus sa kamalayan
Sa lilim ng biyayang ibinuga ng buwang salamangkero’t

salawahan
Anong timyas anong tuwa anong sarap ang pag-ibig na
walang kaakuhan
Sa makinang gumagaralgal sa pagliko sumisikad sa matris ng

babaeng pintakasi
Nasa pusod nasa vulvang busog pumuputok ang TNT at
lahar ng ligaya
Anong sukdulang tamis ang dahas ng nakabalat-kayong

berdugo ng babaylan
Hubad sa gayuma ng ginto’t pilak--tamod dura’t droga ng
konkistador
Tayo’y sinakop nilinlang Paraiso’y nilaslas sa lalamunan ng

panaginip
Ibinartolina tayo sa barbarikong lohika ng salapi at kamandag
ng kapital
53
Ngunit kahit ipinaghiwalay ng nagbalahibong libog metalikong

pangil ng seks
Magkadikit pa rin sa biyaya ng tusong diyalektika ng
kontradiksiyon
Hindi! Huwag! Huwag! Bawal! Bawal!

Kailangang baguhin ang mundo Kailangang magbagong-buhay ka
Dalawang kaluluwang magkasiping sa kumukulong alembiko

ng Eros
Magkayapos hating-gabi lubog sa istratehiya ng makalupang
kontra-gahum
Walang tuksong makapagtitiwalag sa nomadikong cyborg ng

guni-guni
Bungang handog ng ahas mula sa isinumpang hardin-- Walang
kailangan!
Magkaulayaw tayo sa dinamo ng kakulangang nag-silbing batis

at bukal
O kaluwalhatiang labag sa termodinamikong batas ng
imperyalistang Leviathan
Pagkatapos hagkan at pasusuhin Bawal! Pagkatapos yapusin
yakapin Bawal!
Hinati’t biniyak iniluwal iniwalay-- elektromagnetikong

orgasmo-- Ay naku!
Nilikhang hinati’t biniyak Hiniwa’t ibinukod na nilalang

nilinlang ipinatapon
54
Nagkawatak-watak ang alkitran at pulbura ng buntalang

pumaimbulog
Kaya walang ikaw o ako kundi pira-pirasong kasarian

bulalakaw na naglutang
Meteor ng libidong pumilantik sa matris ng Mater Dolorosa--
Bawal!
Takipsilim nang umalis tumalilis Iniwan ka sa “safe-house” ng

teroristang Patriyarko
Agaw-dilim nang lumisan ang kamao’t sungay ng armadong
Anghel
Hindi! Huwag! Bawal! Bawal!

Tila ilusyon lamang ang susong umaapaw Pantasya ang

Pietang sinuob
Tila malikmata ang labing masuyo’t matimyas sa katakumbang
salat sa demarkasyon
Naiwan lamang ang pawis at dagtang stigmata ng Pulang

mandirigma
Ang guwang at butas sa lamang dinukot ng doblekarang
Diwata ng Pagkapon
Naiwan lamang ang tamis at pait ng pagbabawal

Sa kawalan, sumilang ikaw ako
Ang bangin at balong bunga ng paghati’t paglisan-- Walang
kailangan!
55
Paano maibubuhol ang napatid at naputol? Paano maibubuo

ang naluray at nadurog?
Paano maisusudlong ang nawarak o maibubuklod ang
natanggal sa matris?
Nasaid ang balaklaot sa gabi ng pulot-gatang panambitan ng

Birhen ng Kabulaanan
Nawaglit na sakripisyo sa ilalim ng buwang saksi sa babalang
“Bawal”
Nawala ang tuwa ang lugod ang galak sa ginahasang hawla ng
Sisneng Itim
Walang bisa ang memorya Ibasura ang tabula rasa Nulla
Desideratum
Saan pumailanlang ang tuwang nagpugad sa synergy ng utak at

dibdib?
Saan lumipad ang kariktang sumambulat sa maniobra ng
guni-guni?
Hindi! Huwag! Bawal!

Saan ipinaubaya ang kaluluwa ng armadong Anghel? Bigkis ng

alambreng barbed-wire
Ang kalooban ay bulo lamang ng paruparo bulang dawit ng
bagwis ng dapit-hapon
Sa gayo’y muling likhain ang hapdi ng pagtatalik sa target ng

balintataw
Imbentuhin ang galak tuwa orgy ng pagbalikwas sa lumot-
latak ng bulok na orden
56
Nalilikha ang tipanan natin sa pagnanais pagnanasa sa hamog

ng madaling-araw
Nayayari muli ang pag-asa sa simbuyo ng pagmimithi’t
nagsusumidhing hangarin
Saan ka matatagpuan? Sa karimlan ng engkwentro nakadilat ang

sugatang ngiti
Saan ka matutuklasan? Sa bungangang may busal nakaumang
ang dagitab ng kinabukasan
Hinanap ang kabiyak na naglakbay naglagalag-- pumalaot

tinugis ang apoy ng Pinatubo
Hinagilap ang bukang-liwayway sa nilambungang titis ng
ulilang panimdim
Sa putik at luwad pawis at dugo bumabangon ang Mutya ng

balikbayang Pinay
Ang paraluman ng komunidad, ng masang umaalsa umaaklas

naghihimagsik
Anong hiwaga ng nilikhang may wikang tumututol, may tinig

ng adhikang mabangis--
Mahal ko, kausapin mo ako sa gabi ng paglalamay upang
mahuli ang halimuyak ng umaga
Hindi? Huwag? Bawal?

Kailangang baguhin natin ang mundo
Kailangang magbagong-buhay tayo!
[22 Disyembre 2007, Storrs, Connecticut, USA]

57
Libog: Transformation of the Proletarian Eros
None, nothing else is needed Humanity of the beast Nothing

Else Required
I and you We are one psyche Twin sensibility cut up and
separated
No shadow or body Hermaphroditic unity Monolithic

identity
Even before facing the mirror Before the Oedipus in the mind
runs amok
Under the shadow of blessings vomited by the ambivalent

sorceress moon
What rapture what ecstasy how blissful that love without
consciousness of self
As the dilapidated machine turns the corner in the womb of the

mediatrix mother kicking
In the belly in the well-fed vulva the TNT and lava of happiness
exploding
What inconceivable sweetness is the violence of the disguised

executioner of the priestess
Denuded of the talisman of gold and silver--semen spit drugs
of the conquistador
We were occupied cheated Paradise’s throat of dreams slashed

Hurled into the dungeon of the barbaric logic of money and
58
contaminated capital
But even though disentangled by the hairy lust metallic fangs of
sex
Still clinging together thanks to the grace of the shrewd
dialectics of contradiction
What is needed is to transform the world

You need to change, renew your life
Two souls sleeping together in the boiling alembic of Eros

Clutching each other through the night sunk in the strategy of
worldly counter-hegemony
No temptation can tear us from the nomadic cyborg of the

imagination
Fruit offered by the serpent from the accursed garden-- No
need!
We cavort in the dynamo of destitution that serves as the

fountain and spring
O ecstasy violating the thermodynamic law of the imperialist
Leviathan
After embracing and suckling Forbidden! After holding tight

embracing Prohibited!
Split fissured delivered up torn asunder--electromagnetic
orgasm -- Ay shit!
Creature cut up and parceled out Sliced and set apart creature
tricked exiled
Fragmented are asphalt and gunpowder of the skyrocketing
59
galaxy
That’s why there’s neither I nor you but morsels of sexuality
stars floating
Meteor of the libido spinning out from the womb of Mater
Dolorosa-- Forbidden!
Dusk when you left Eluded Abandoned in the “safe-house” of

the terrorist Patriarch
Twilight when the clenched fist and horns of the armed Angel
fled

Change, renew your life
Seeming to be an illusion--that overflowing breast Fantasy of

Pieta offered incense
As though a mirage those seductive luscious lips in the
catacombs bereft of demarcations
What’s left are sweat and juicy stigmata of the Red Combatant
The gap and hole in the flesh kidnapped by the two-faced
scheming Goddess of Castration
What remains are the sweetness and bitterness of the prohibition

From want, you and I sprang
The gorge and well blossoming from the split and the
desertion—No need!
How can we knot again what has been cut and ruptured? How
can we put together what has been ripped apart and
pulverized?
60
How can we join what has been wrecked, what has been
wrenched from the womb?
The vortex dried up in the night of the honeymooned elegy of

the Virgin of Lying
Sacrifice mislaid under the moon’s witnessing of the warning
sign “Forbidden”
Gone the laughter the delight the joy of the ravished cage of the
Black Swan
Memory has no efficacy Garbage tabula rasa Nothing
Required
Where was the joy hurled, joy that nested in the synergy of
mind and heart?
Where did that fly, that beauty blasting from the maneuvers of
the imagination?

Where was the soul of the armed Angel put in trust? Yoked
together by barbed-wire
The psyche is only a dusty flake of the butterfly bubble
brushing nightfall’s wings
Therefore create again the torment of sexual liaison in the target

of vision
Invent the pleasure delight orgy of rebellion from the algae-silt
of the rotten system
61
Our tryst will be fashioned from desire from lusting for the dew
of morning
Constructed again from hope from the convulsion of aspiring
and smoldering drive
Where will you be found? In the darkness of the encounter the
wounded smile looks wide-eyed
Where will you be discovered? From the muzzled mouth the
electric fire of tomorrow zeroes on its target
You searched for the Other Half who journeyed wandered set
out pursuing Mt. Pinatubo’s fire
You hunted for the dawn in the shrouded sparks of the solitary
intellect
From mud and clay sweat and blood rises the deity of
homeland-bound Overseas Filipino Workers
Directress of the community, of the masses rising up striking
revolting
How overflowing with enchantment is the creature with

language protesting, with voice of a wild resolve--
My beloved, speak to me in this night of vigil so as to capture the
fragrance of sunrise

62
Mitsa ng Parikalang Umuklos sa Bituka
Nakaupo ka sa silong ng kawayan, kumakalabit sa gitara,

awit mo’y nanaginip kang ikaw ay isang paruparo
sumasalimbay sa hangin hanggang—saglit lang—namangha
di mawari kung ikaw ay paruparong nanaginip ng dalagang
umaawit….
Walang galaw, ang puso ko’y nakadapo sa buhok mo’t di

mapigtal….
Bakit kailangan ko pang managinip na ako’y paruparo o

paraluman?
Bakit maghahangad pa ng ibang kapalit sa katiwasayang
dinaranas?
Palagay ko’y walang nakamasid sa iyong anyong hinagkan ng

karimlan
maliban sa buwang tumatanglaw mula sa sanga ng kawayan….
Sa gabing taglagas, akoy naglamay upang masulyapan ka

muli….
Nanunubok sa ilalim ng bituing nakasalabid sa dahon ng
kawayan.
Sa hungkag na burol, lumagpak ang kung anong bungang

sukdulang hinog.
Gising ba o nagtutulog-tulugan? Hiblang lumipad? o lagas na
talulot?
Nakakubli, sandaling tumigil, nakatitig sa anino ng mundong

naglalaho….
Paruparo ka ba o guni-guni? Pumupungas-pungas,
nangangalumata—
Inaku! mistulang bingi, pipi, bulag itong kaluluwang

namalikmata
Nakaupo sa lilim ng balag, kinakapa ang gitarang nalikha sa

kawalan.
63
Fuse of Irony Bursting in the Belly
You are seated there in the bosom of the bamboo grove, plucking
a guitar warbling that you dreamed you were a butterfly
swaying in the wind until—in the twinkle of an
eye—surprised wondering whether you’re the butterfly
dreaming of that maiden singing…
Unmoving, my heart alights on your hair and you can’t brush it

away….
Why do I need to dream that I am the butterfly or the inamorata?
Why would I desire a substitute for this bliss I am blessed with?
I suspect that no one observed your shape clasped by the dark

except the moon poised in surveillance from the bamboos’
arms…..
In this autumn evening, I maintained vigil to catch a glimpse of
you again….
Eavesdropping under the stars caught in the woven leaves of the
trees….
In the hollow hillock, something drops—what fruit exceedingly
ripe.
Are you awake or pretending to be asleep? A wisp of hair
flying? or petals blown asunder?
Hidden, halted for a while, staring at the shadow of a world
evaporating….
Are you a butterfly or fantasy? Rubbing your eyes, unraveling
the cobwebs within—
Mother of mine! Seemingly deaf, mute, blind is this spellbound
soul
sitting under the shadow of this trellis, groping for a guitar
fashioned from absence.
64
Sutrang Kayumanggi
Akala mo’y nasa tabi mo pa ako, namalaging lumpo walang

imik o kibo
bagamat alam mo’ng lahat ay nagbabago, nag-iiba, sa daloy ng
pangyayari—
walang tigil, kinakabahan--kung di pa nayari, Mahal, yariin mo
na!
Laging nagnanais, nagnanasa, akala mo’y udyok ng katawan,
ngunit pag-aari mo ba
ang mga bisig na iyan, mukha, suso, vulva, pigi—kanino ba
iyan?
Halika sa loob ng kulambo, ibulong mo, kumukutob ang

tiwalang nawawala.
Sa likod nati’y hindi makulay na salamin sa bintana kundi bukas
na dungawan—
Sapat ba ang isip sa diwa upang malagom ang karanasang
walang hanggan?
Saang pitak ng laman ilalagak ang sandaling ito na unti-unting
lumilipas?
Iniakma mong tanggihan (ngunit tanggap sa loob), di mahulo

ang tiyak na hugis,
anyo, hubog—hungkag lahat, walang laman—paano
maihahayag o makikilala
ang damdamin mo kahit di mo man ipagkaila? kung di
pa nayari, mangyayari iyan.
Mahirap bigyan ng salita o larawan, ituro mo na lamang at sa

bigkas ng labi mo
nabibigyan-kahulugan ang pumamapanaw di mo man mahipo
o masalat-- dagling naglalaho—kay bilis,
lumilihis—sumpang bunga ng pagluwal at pag-iral.
65
Lumabas ka sa kulambong masukal, Mahal, di maatim na

walang kagampan
at, di biro, walang kaganapan sa buhay ng bawat nilikha, ng
bawat nilalang
kaya sikaping lasapin ang aliw ng sandali, salubungin habang
naglalaho, pumaparam….
Ngunit, sawimpalad, ito’y ilusyon lamang, malikmatang
nakasusulukasok,
sapot sa matang dilat sa panganoring nakapaligid, nalilibiran ng
samyo’t ganda ng kalikasan--
Halina doon sa lilim ng balete kung saan sumumpa, talastas

mong walang hiwaga, walang wika ang may bisang
magbunyag o magpakita,
sa gayo’y ituro mo na lang ang landas—teka, hintay, sinong
pumapalakpak?
Ipahalata mo lamang kung saan ang lusot, ipahiwatig kung

saang lagusan
masusumpungan ang pagkatao mong hubad—doon kusang
magaganap ang tipan
kahit walang kagampan, may ngiti ka namang iniingatan sa
likod ng tuwa’t lumbay--
Sayang ba, Mahal? kinukutuban—kahit di pa hinog, sunggaban

mo na!
Magkasaliwang kilos paikot ang umuugnay sa awit ng gabi at

ngiti
ng madaling-araw, kasaliw ang tunog ng ulilang palad na
pumapalakpak sa dilim:
Tahimik. Walang imik. Mayuming lumalapag ang mga talulot.
Liwanag humahalik.
66
Brown Sutra
You think I’m still on your side, constant invalid silent or

speechless
although you know everything changes, shifts, in the drift of
events—
ceaseless, anxious—if it’s still undone, Beloved, do it now!
Always wishing, desiring, you think it’s the craving of the body,
but do you own
these arms, face, breast, cunt, hips—who owns them?
Come into the veil, speak softly, the disappearing faith begins to
doubt.
Behind us lies not a glowing mirror by the window but an open

balcony—
is the mind’s thought sufficient to hold the eternal experience?
In what orifice to place this moment that slowly passes?
You see it fit to refuse (but graciously accepted), unable to

fathom the exact form,
appearance, curve—everything is empty, without
substance—how to reveal or know
your feeling even if you deny it? If it’s still undone, it will be
done.
It’s hard to say or describe it, show it then and in the utterance
of your lips
what departs will be given meaning, even if you can’t touch or
sense it—
it will immediately vanish—how swift, swerving—the curse that
is the fruit of birthing and being.
67
Step out of the thick veil, Beloved, the lack of deliverance will
not be permitted
and, really, there is no fullness in the life of every creation, of
every creature
and so enjoy the moment’s ecstasy, welcome while vanishing,
transubstantiating…
but, sadly, all this is illusion, infuriating phantom,
a mantle on an eye open to a sweeping spectacle, surrounded by
the scent and beauty
of nature—let’s sit in the shade of the tree where the promise
was made,
your understanding without mystery, no language has the
power to disclose or demonstrate,
so lead the way—but wait, who’s clapping?
In that case just imply where the ambiguity lies, signify in what
exit
your naked self can be spotted—there the covenant will fulfill
itself
despite the absence of fullness, there is a smile that you keep
behind the laughter and grief—
is it worthless, Beloved? doubting—even if it’s unripe, seize it!
An opposing circular dance unites the song of night and smile

of daybreak, among the sound of bare palms that clap in
the dark:
Still. Speechless.
The petals gently alight.
Daylight kisses.

68
Ang Tatlong Tukso
“Anong kamatayan ang nais mo?”

Tanong ng babae: “Isang pagkasirang tanso na nagbubukas
Ng isang kumbento para sa puso; o kaya
Isang batas na pahintulot para sa isang higante, isang pinilakang

pagpanaw;
O iyong uring dapat pagsikapang matamo;
Isang sakramento, isang paglisang ginintuan?”
Ay lintik, paano makapipili ang may pakay?

Lagi na lamang may sumisingasing na apoy--
Sa aking leeg gumagapang ang salamander!
Ngunit dito sa matatag na larangan,

Lupang kinabuwalan ng mga magiting na mandirigma,
Ang mga dwende’y umaawit ng isang tumbagang himnong
handog sa iyo.
Subalit kung maaari lamang sana’y makalikha ako para sa sarili

Ng isang ulo ng higante, malayo sa pangungulila’t pag-iisa--
Oo, totoong aapaw ang tawa ng nimpa ng dagat
At malulunod ang aking pinilakang libingan. Sapagkat ito’y

tadhana
Mula sa bangin, sa pagitan ng matatarik na bundok
69
Na nagdudulot sa atin ng bagwis na sadyang akma sa

peregrinasyon.
At ikaw na sumasayaw tulad ng isang masanghayang anghel

Sa himapapawid ay ipinagkaitan, talagang dahop
Sa gintong katangian ng biyayang alindog
At kung sakaling ipagdarasal mo ako upang makamit ang

“Isang mainam at liblib na burol” na itinakda para sa aking
Pagpanaw, aking kamatayang tunay na ginto;
Nauukol sa iyo, tanging sa iyo lamang, iniaalay ko ang aking

pangalan.
“O, ano ngayon, anong uring kamatayan ang ninanasa mo?”
Sabi ng babae: “Walang iba kundi ang aking yapos.”
70
The Three Temptations
"What death would you desire?"

She says: "A bronze death that yields
a cloister for the heart; or that
which is charter for a giant, a silver death;

or that for which one must labor:
one's sacrament, that's a death of gold?"
Alas, how can your pilgrim choose?

Always there's the hissing of fire--
On my neck creeps the salamander!
But here on this steadfast ground

earth whereon the mighty have fallen,
gnomes choir a bronze hymn to you
and yet could I but rear for myself--

a giant's head far from all solitude--
O how the undine's luster shall flood
into my silver sepulcher! For it is fate

out of gorges between sheer cliffs
that gives us wings for pilgrimage
and you who dance like a scented sylph

on the winds have not, have not
the golden character of grace
and should you but pray for me

'a fine and private place' plucked up
for this death, my death, that's golden
to you alone I give my only name--

"Oh, now, what death would you desire?"
She says: "There is only my embrace."
71
Ayon Kay D. J. Alvaro
Gusto raw niya ng lalaking medyo bastos, “maginoo pero

bastos”
Naamoy nating rehimen ng “Women’s Lib” ngayon, hindi
bomba
ng diktadurang Marcos at mga sumunod….
Ingat lang, payo ng kasama, sapagkat
di ko alam na di na pala uso
ang “old-style macho….”
Sino nga bang gago ang gumagaya pa sa estilo ni Apolinario
Mabini?
Barkadang garapal, walang biro, astang maton ng mga vigilante
at militar— padalus-dalos—
O Maria Clara, ikaw ay “bagong bayani” na,
OFW domestic, alila ng buong mundo!
Pero kung di ka guwapo, isinakripisyo pa ang talino?
Ay, sotang bastos, pinggang bastos—baka naman napasubo

lamang si Donya Alvaro?
dahil sa tukso ng estilong pagrebelde sa sangkatutak na
ipokrisya
(huwag nang gamitin dito ang seduction theory ni Freud)—
Charinggola!
Kahit ako mag-ingat umiwas sa palpak na tiradang ito, di ko
maisip, DJ,
kung paano may pusong tigmak sa toyo,
walang kabatiran
sa kung ilang balde ang iinumin bago maging lasenggo
o kaya’y makaturing kung sino ang dapat
mapagkakatiwalaan…
72
Hintay muna, sabik kong masakyan ang himig mo, DJ,

at makipagsabwatan
sapagkat wala akong nasabi mong talino o kisig—
kabalyerong walang kabayo—
Dahil may kaunting pagkabuwang, talagang gusto ko

ang babaeng nambabastos sa pagtugis at paglipol sa mga
walanghiyang politiko
na ubod nang “pagkamaginoo!”
Oo, gusto ko rin ng kasamang
di pa-charming lang sa araw at magdamag
kundi may angking utak at tapang at tigas ng determinasyon
upang magkatuwang kaming
makibaka upang supilin
ang mga nangungurakot “sa loob at labas ng bayang sawi—”
Totoo ito, ‘alang biro,

ang pusong walang talino ay saksakan ng
pagkaromantiko,
alipin na kunwari’y sobrang barako,
“el Jefe Maximo” o “Numero Uno”
tulad ng mga alipuris nina Madame
“Iron Butterfly” at Tita Cory—
kaya ingat lang, DJ, walang “medyo bastos”
(anumang kasarian)
na magtatanggol sa iyo
hanggang ang patriyarkang “puso”
ay di nasusugpo
ng feministang talino.
73
According to DJ Alvaro
She says she likes her man a little cocky, “courteous but cocky”
Already we can sniff the regime of “Women’s lib,” not the
bombast of the Marcos dictatorship
and those that followed…
Be careful, a comrade counsels, because
I didn’t realize that “old-style macho” is no longer in…
For what fool still apes the style of Apolinario Mabini?

Barefaced gangster, no kidding, posing like the bullying military
and vigilante— slapdash—
O Maria Clara, you are the “new heroine,” OFW
domestic, slave of the whole world!
But if not handsome, good sense might have been sacrificed?
Ay, cocky groom, cocky prick—perhaps Doña Alvaro is

unwittingly involved?
because of the lure of a rebellious stance against heaving
hypocrisy (don’t even use Freud’s seduction theory here)—
Sweet-talker!
Even I must steer clear of this failed tirade, I can’t dig it, DJ,
how can there be cloying hearts, unable to know
how many bucketfuls to down before becoming a boozer
or be able to tell who can be trusted…
Wait a minute, I can’t wait to get on with your tune, DJ,

and conspire with it
because I have neither what you call brains nor brawn—

74
a horseless cavalier—
Because a little sick in the head, I really like

a swaggering girl who pursues and destroys shameless
politicians
who are so “courteous”!
Yes, I also like a mate
Who’s more than just a flirt by day and night

but rather possessed of wit and daring and virtuous
determination
so that together we fight to slay
the corrupt “in and out of my unfortunate country”—
It’s true, no kidding,

A stupid heart is exceedingly romantic,
a slave passing for a raging bull,
“el Jefe Maximo” or “Numero Uno”
like the cabal of Madam “Iron Butterfly” and Tita Cory—
so be careful, DJ, there is no such thing as a “little
cocky” (regardless of gender)
who will defend you
for as long as the patriarchal “heart” isn’t done in
by the feminist brain.

75
Isang Eksena Mula sa Las Vegas, Nevada
Kababasa ko pa lamang ng nangyaring paglapastangan

kay Magdalena Monteza sa Peru noong rehimen ni Presidente
Fujimori—kung ilang ulit siya ginahasa’t binugbog,
sagad-butong nilaspag—
“Ininis sa hukay ng dusa’t pighati”—
Saglit akong nanood sa mga nagpipistang Amerikano sa “Strip”

sa Las Vegas…. Nagkataon lamang…
Anong tuwa ng mga tao sa tumitilampong tubig sa lawa ng

Bellagio Casino, sa bulkang pumuputok sa MIRAGE, sa
imitasyong gondola sa Venetian Hotel….
Walang muwang sa mga kalupitan ng CIA at U.S. tropang

nanghihimasok sa buhay ng mga tao sa Iraq Afghanistan
Palestina Bolivia Colombia Haiti Nepal Pilipinas--sinong
pumatay kina Ric Ramos, Diosdado Fortuno, Eden Marcellana,
Rodante Bautista, Celia Esteban at di mabilang na biktima ng
rehimeng Arroyo?
Araw-araw, sa TV, ang pagpatay ng sundalong U.S. sa mga
rebelde sa Iraq at Afghanistan—araw-araw din ang awitan at
sayawang burlesk sa Rio, Barbary Coast, Mandalay, Tropicana
Casino— “saan ipupukol ang itinangis-tangis”—
Pinupulikat ako.
Totoong di ako tulad ni Dante Alighieri
mahinahong nakapagsudlong ng mga kontradiksiyon….
Sa tulay sa Venetian, walang Beatrice na hihimas sa batok at
tuhod ng makata.
Walang anghel kundi isang ulilang putang umaaligid sa isang
payasong naka-tuxedo, nagmumudmod ng play money at
makulay na papel-de-bankgong huwad….
walang birheng….
O Binibining Magdalena Monteza, ipagdasal mo kami!
76
Scenes from Las Vegas, Nevada
I just read about the violation

of Magadelana Monteza in Peru during the regime of
President Fujimori—
how she was repeatedly raped and beaten,
abused to the bone—
“buried in the grave of grief and torment”
Briefly I watched the carousing Americans on the “Strip”

in Las Vegas… A mere coincidence…
What joy these people feel for the shooting waters in the lake
of Bellagio Casino, the erupting volcano in MIRAGE, the
faux gondola at Venetian Hotel…
Innocent of the brutality of the CIA and US troops

meddling in people’s lives in Iraq Afghanistan
Palestine Bolivia Colombia Haiti Nepal the Philippines—
Who killed Ric Ramos, Diosdado Fortuna,

Eden Marcellana, Rodante Bautista, Celia Esteban--
all the Arroyo regime’s countless victims?
Every day, on TV, the US soldiers murdering

the rebels in Iraq and Afghanistan—
every day too are the burlesque singing
77
and dancing in Rio,

Barbary Coast, Mandalay, Tropicana Casino—
“where to hurl our griefs”—
I’m having spasms…
It’s true I’m unlike Dante Alighieri
sleekly and cunningly pushing against the
contradictions…
On the bridge at Venetian, no Beatrice will caress the poet’s nape
and knee.
No angel except
the exemplary whore lingering with a clown
in Tuxedo, doling out play money
and colorful counterfeit bills…
no virgin here…
O Miss Magdalena Monteza, pray for us!

78
Dalumat ni Felix Razon sa Harap ng Boston Harbor
Katawa-tawa, tila lumalala habang nagkakapatong-patong ang

mga taon sa pawis at liwaliw….
Di ko pa rin makuhang manahimik, maghalukipkip….
Hindi naman nakababagot ang lungsod na ito, bukod sa ilang

ghetto, bar at putahan;
May maluluwang na lansangan, ilog na tila malinis at walang
lumulutang na bangkay
Bukod sa ilang mga pulubing homeless na naglaboy,

nakawiwiling Borders Starbucks
At ilang aklatan kung saan puwede kang magbasa nang walang
magpapaalis sa iyo--
Masarap na cheesecake Heineken San Miguel anumang alak
sakaling may pera--
Nakuha mong ngumiti sa mga musmos na naglalaro sa Boston

Gardens, alaga ng ilang nakabibighaning dalaga, ay
naku!
Isa kang dayuhang burgis na nakabalatkayo, kagat ang labi, nag-
iingat, naghihinala…
Maraming gulo ritong nakasisindak, sigalot na kaparis din sa

Europa o sa ibang lugar- tiim-bagang
nakapangingilabot--
Patayan, race riots. terorismo ng Estado laban sa Pinoy o
sinumang kasimbalat ni Osama
O ni Janjalani ng Abu Sayyaf--sa malas, lahat tayong di-puti, di
mukhang taga-Kanluran….lamang,
79
Nakakubli ito sa pinilakang-tabing ng Miss Liberty, land of milk

and honey, freedom, democracy Madonna Beyonce Shakira
Ibinibida ni Kris Aquino at ilang migranteng sumasamba kina

Donald Trump—
Bukod sa ilang Pinay na di pa nasisiraan ng bait, di tablan ng
konsumerismo’t globalisasyon, petisismo ng dolyar at
mapanghibong komoditi….
May ilang di bulag, di bingi (ayon nga sa awit) tatak peti-burgis

na intelektwal--
Subalit di man pogi, diwa ko’y di mapakali, naiinip, ayaw
magbitiw o tumiwalag
Laluna kung nababalitaan ang inhustisya sa ati’y kalabisang
lumalatay na parusa sa bawat mamamayan--extra-judicial
killings, forced disappearances, masaker ng mga pesante’t
manggagawa, panggagahasa sa Pinay ng mga tropang
Kano,
Di-matingkalang korupsiyon, pandaraya, paghihikahos…mga

walang-hiyang trapo!
Ok, suwerte kang maging OFW-- Kayod lamang araw-araw,
kudkud nang kudkud upang maging “bagong bayani,”
di kuno—
Gayunpaman, nais kong umuwi.
Wala ritong kapiling na makakausap sa wikang Filipino. Sina
Pacquiao Pempengco’t Lea Salonga’y nagtitinda ng
sarili nilang “brand Pinay/Pinoy”
walang kuwenta ‘yon, delikado ka pa ring
mapagkamalang terorista….
Ang gabi’y lumalalim, tigib ng mapanuksong ingay.

80
Witnessing by Felix Razon at Boston Harbor
Somewhat hilarious, but things have worsened as years

accumulated in sweat and raptures…. But still I am
unable to keep quiet, with arms akimbo….
This city is not nauseating, apart from a few ghettos, bars and
brothels;
The streets are quite spacious, with a river that appears clean, no
corpses floating
Except for a few homeless poor wandering around, an attractive
Starbucks coffee shop,
And some public libraries where you can read without anyone
itching to drive you away—savory cheesecake,
Heineken beer or San Miguel, whatever wine
you like if you have money—
You succeeded in smiling at the children playing in the Boston

Gardens, cared for by seductive nannies—hey, mother of
mine!
You’re nothing but a petit-bourgeois foreigner in disguise, biting
your lips, always on guard, suspicious….
Lots of shocking troubles here, disturbances such as you will

find in Europe and in other countries-- grit your teeth,
horrible!—killings race riots state terrorism against
Pinays or anyone with skin color resembling
Osama’s or that of Janjalani of the Abu Sayyaf gang, all of us

who are not white, not looking like Western guys…
However, these are all concealed by the silver-screen of Miss

Liberty, land of milk and honey, freedom democracy
Madonna Beyonce Shakira
81
All touted by Kris Aquino and a few migrants worshipping

Donald Trump—
Exceptional are our sisters who have not gone insane,
impervious to consumerism and globalization, fetishism
of dollars and the bewitching commodity…..
A few are not blind nor deaf (as the song goes) carrying the
brand of the petit-bourgeois intellectual—
But though not handsome, my mind is alive, restive, refusing to
resign or withdraw
Especially when I hear reports of injustice inflicted as
punishment on citizens--
extra-judicial killings forced disappearances massacre of
peasants, rape of Pinays by American troops--
Intolerable corruption, cheating, privations—
shameless politicians!
Ok, you’re lucky to be an OFW—toiling everyday, scrounging
around everyday to be a “modern hero,” so to speak—
Nonetheless, I want to go home. There’s no companion here

with whom I can speak our language.
Pacquiao Pempengco and Lea Salonga are all selling themselves

with their peculiar“brand Pinay/Pinoy”—that’s no
big deal, but you’re still vulnerable,
liable to be mistaken for a terrorist….
The night deepens,

the air charged with tantalizing sounds.
82
Ang Pagpaslang Kay Rebelyn Pitao
Naibalita sa Internet, kamakailan, na hindi raw gaganti ang NPA

sa pagpaslang ng gobyerno kay Rebelyn Pitao
Ngunit ito ba ang hinihingi ng masa?
Humihingi ang masa ng hustisya at accountability: Sino ang

mananagot sa krimeng ito?
Naunahan na tayo sa sagot ng NPA….
Nailinya na ba ng partido ang damdamin lungkot pait sakit

pagpigil ng galit ng masa?
Nailinya na ba kung paano magagalit o matutuwa?
Nailinya na ba kung kalian dapat mapoot at kailan dapat
umibig?
Nailinya na ba kung paano dapat maging mapaghinala o
mapagtiwala?
Nailinya na ba kung paano maging mataray o masuyo?
Nailinya na ba kung paano dapat maging matalino o maging
tanga?
Nailinya na ba lahat ng hindi pa nararanasan?
Kung nag-aapoy ang galit, masusubhan ba iyon ng tubig ng

panghihinayang?
Hanggang saan dapat umabot ang pasensiya?
Noong digmaan ng Filipino't Amerikano simula noong 1899, na
kumitil ng 1.4 milyong Filipino, itinanong sa U.S. Senado
ni Gen. Robert Hughes na kumander ng US Army sa
Bisayas kung bakit pinarusahan din ang mga sibilyan,
mga babae't musmos, sa pagsugpo ng Amerikano
sa mga rebelde.
83
Pakli ni Gen. Hughes:
"The women and children are part of the family, and where you wish
to inflict a punishment you can punish the man probably worse
in that way than in any other."
Ay, naku, di mo akalain-- Natuto pala ang militar ni Gloria

Macapagal-Arroyo!
Natuto pala ang AFP at mga para-militar na bayaran.
Itinanong ni Senator Rawlins si Gen. Hughes kung iyong ginawa
nila ay "within the ordinary rules of civilized warfare."

Ang sagot: "These people are not civilized."
Ayon, Mare’t Pare, ayos! Sa kabila ng isang siglong pagitan mula
sa madugong pagsakop sa atin ng Amerikanong
imperyalista, isangkot na natin ang mahabang
kolonisasyon ng Kastila at maikli ngunit mahapding
karanasan sa kalupitan ng mga Hapon, totoo palang
hindi pa tayo "civilized,"
wika nga, di kuno?

84
The Execution of Rebelyn Pitao
The Internet bore the news, of late, that the NPA will not avenge
the government’s murder of Rebelyn Pitao.
But is this what the masses demand?
The masses demand justice and accountability: who will pay for
this crime?
The NPA’s answer has already preceded us…
Has a rule been decreed by the party on sensation misery

bitterness pain control of the masses’ fury?
Has a rule been decreed on how to get furious or laugh?
Has a rule been decreed when it’s correct to hate and when it’s
correct to love?
Has a rule been decreed when it’s correct to be doubtful and to
be trusting?
Has a rule been decreed on how to be obnoxious or obsequious?
Has it been decreed how it’s correct to be smart and to be
stupid?
Has a rule been decreed on all that has yet to be experienced?
If fury is smoldering, can the waters of disappointment douse it?
How long should patience last?
During the Filipino-American War beginning in 1899, which

killed 1.4 million Filipinos, the US Senate asked Gen.
Robert Hughes who was commander of the US Army in
the Visayas why civilians were also punished, women
and children, so that Americans could suppress the
rebels.
85
Gen. Hughes’s reply:
“The women and children are part of the family, and where you
wish to inflict a punishment you can punish the man probably
worse in that way than in any other.”
Ay, naku, you wouldn’t guess—Gloria Macapagal-Arroyo’s

military did learn!
So the hustling AFP and paramilitary did learn.
Senator Rawlins asked Gen. Hughes if what they did was

“within the ordinary rules of civilized warfare.”
The answer: “These people are not civilized.”
There you go, friends!
Despite almost a century of intervening time from our

bloody occupation by the American imperialists, we
might as well include the long Spanish colonization and
the short but painful experience with Japanese brutality,
it’s quite true
that we’re not “civilized” yet,
as you might say, wouldn’t you?

86
Paglaho ng Buwan
Ang bantog na Pinoy at pintor Juan Luna, kumatha ng

SPOLIARIUM, nakaisip ng bagong likha noong
22 Setyembre 1892.
Ang anak ni Donya Juliana, si Trinidad Pardo de Tavera,
tinaguriang isang "Brain of the Nation" masugid sa
programang Amerikanisasyon ng buong bansa
Bakit pinatay ng pintor ang kanyang asawa?
Bakit binaril pati na ang biyenan, ina ng kanyang asawa?
Paano nagawa ito ng isang henyo, isang artistang pinagpala ng
Diyos?
Kitilin ang buhay ng kabiyak at ina nito?
Kabalintunaan? Mapusok Mainit ang ulo ng pintor
Kaululan? Di mapigil ang bugso ng damdamin
Biyaya ng Maykapal ang obra maestrang SPOLIARIUM

Masdan ang Pag-iisang Dugo nina Legaspi at Sikatuna
Sipatin ang larawan ng mga dalaga
Pansinin ang paghabi ng dilim at liwanag sa larawan ng
“Pagkamatay ni Cleopatra”
Kahibangan? Kabaliwan?
Nalubog ba ang diwa ng pintor sa kumunoy ng luho ng
paganong Roma?
o kaya’y sa sakripisyo ng mga Kristiyano sa panahon ng
paglusob ng mga barbarong lipi mula sa Hilaga?
O nahumaling ba sa gilas ng Kastilang lumaban sa Lepanto?
Ngunit hintay muna, laging nakabaling ang panimdim ng pintor
sa dalagang Bulakenya
o sa dalagang ulilang nakaupo sa isang salon sa Paris, walang
pangalan,
87
o sa hubad na mutyang katabi ng ilog, naikintal sa isip….

Sakit sa utak kanser sa budhi
Nahawa ang dugo sa salot na nagkalat sa imperyong iginuhit sa
kwadro
Balakyot na guniguni
Ngunit hindi tinugutan ni Don Pardo ang paghihiganti--
Napuna ni Marcelo del Pilar at tumuring na si Pardo ay
"isa roon sa mga kinakargahan pa lamang ang berso ay bali na
ang daliri sa pagtatakip ng tainga"—
Malandi makiri
Ay, naku, bilangin mo kung ilang daliri ang bali-bali
at baka mahigit sa siyam na milyong daliring bali-bali
Namatay si Cleopatra ngunit bumangon ang kaluluwa ni

Antonio Luna….
Pinatay ang kapatid, Hen. Antonio Luna, ng mga sundalo ni
Aguinaldo, taga-Kawit, Cavite
Sa kataksilan nawasak ang Republika sa Cabanatuan noong
hapon ng Hunyo 5, 1899
Pinatay rin si Bonifacio ng mga Ilustradong sumisikat--
Ay, naku, Inang Maawain, kailangang alamin ng pintor
kung anong tunay na nangyari sa himagsikang
ipinagkanulo
Ngunit hindi pa nakararating sa Inang bayang ginahasa’t
ipinagbili
nilason ang pintor sa Hong Kong Disyembre 7, 1899
Itanong mo sa multo ni Paz Luna at ng inang Donya Juliana
Nilambungan ng rebolber ng pintor ng Pag-iisang Dugo at
SPOLIARIUM
gumagala sa EDSA at sa mga looban ng Payatas
88
Ilang salinlahing inaruga nina Felipe Buencamino’t Pedro

Paterno ang nagkanulo’t sumuko sa inperyalistang Amerikano
Gumagala ang kaluluwa ng pintor at heneral sa landas ng ating
buhay sa mga lansangan sa Makati sa megamall
kung saan hinahagod ang awit na “Total Eclipse of the
Heart”—“turning around…”
sa imburnal ng iyong kaluluwa
Isang krimen ng pagkahumaling o pagkahaling
Isang krimen ng panibugho
Kabaliwan Kabalintunaan Kahibangan
Sa arena ng kolisyum sa Roma, sa ilalim ng eklipse ng buwang
mahinahong nagkubli sa mapusok na araw
Tumatahol ang loba negra kapag nabilog ang buwan
May lumalambong na taling galing sa pusod ng ina
Bakit pinatay ni Juan Luna sina Paz Pardo de Tavera at ina nito?

Tugon dito ay natambad kung saan ang matinding panibugho’y

gumagapang—
malanding Scheherazade ng guniguni
anino ng iyong seks ng pagnanais
ng pananabik ng libog sa pagtatalik
at hindi kailanman
Oo hinding-hindi mapaparausan o mapaparusahan
Ay naku! Inay ko, hinding-hindi!

89
Lunar Penumbra
The famous Filipino painter Juan Luna, progenitor of the

SPOLIARIUM thought of a new creation on
22 September 1892.
Dona Juliana’s son, Trinidad Pardo de Tavera, considered to be a
“Brain of the Nation,” fanatical exponent of
Americanizing the whole Philippines
Why did the painter kill his wife? Why did he kill also the
mother of his wife?
How did this genius do it, an artist blessed by God,
to slay in cold blood his wife and her mother?
Irony? Irascible hot-tempered brain
Insanity volleys of feelings intractable unstoppable
God’s beatitude incarnate in the masterpiece SPOLIARIUM

Scrutinize the “Blood Compact” of Legazpi and Sikatuna
Examine closely the portrait of this maiden
Observe steadily the weaving of light and dark in the lineaments
of “The Death of Cleopatra”
Madness? Delirium?
Was the painter’s mind sunk in the swamp of luxury drowning
pagan Rome?
Or in the sacrifice of Christians at the time when barbarian
hordes invaded from the North?
Or was he hallucinating at the bravery of the Spanish warriors in
Lepanto?
But wait a second, the painter’s gaze is always focused on that
lass from Bulacan
Or at the solitary lady seated there in a Paris Salon, nameless,
90
Or at the naked woman near the riverbank, cut deep into the
brain tissues.
Disease of the psyche? Cancer in the soul?
Blood contaminated by the plague spread throughout the
empire, drawn in those canvases
Monstrous storm of the imagination
But Don Pardo didn’t pull in the reins of vengeance

Marcelo del Pilar noticed it and remarked that Pardo is someone
“whose fingers are already broken for plugging his ears
while the poetic charges are just being loaded”
Coquettish lustful
Ay, mother of mine, count how many fingers are broken

Maybe more than nine million fingers all smashed
Cleopatra died but the soul of Antonio Luna stirred and woke
up
His brother Antonio was killed by General Aguinaldo’s soldiers
all from Kawit, Cavite
By this treachery the Republic was destroyed in Cabanatuan 5
June 1899
Andres Bonifacio was also murdered by the up-and-coming
ilustrados
Ay, mother of mine, the painter should find out what really
happened to the revolution betrayed
But even before he reached the ravished and prostituted
motherland, the painter was poisoned in Hong
Kong Date: December 7, 1899
Ask the ghost of Maria de la Paz Pardo de Tavera y Gorricho de
Luna and the mother Dona Juliana Gorricho Pardo de
Tavera shrouded by the painter’s revolver
hanging over the “Blood Compact” and SPOLIARIUM
91
wandering through EDSA and the slums of Payatas

How many generations nourished by Felipe Buencamino and

Pedro Paterno have betrayed the people surrendered to
the American imperialists
The painter’s soul and the general’s spirit are traversing the
paths of our lives
through Makati streets in the megalls where the song
“Total Eclipse of the Heart”
“turning around” hurtles into the sewers of your soul
A crime of addiction and obsession
A crime of jealousy Madness Irony Intoxication
In the arena of Rome’s coliseum, under the moon’s eclipse
that quietly hid behind the orgasmic sun
The black she-wolf barks when the moon becomes full
a mantle drops from the umbilical cord
unwinding from the mother’s womb
Why did Juan Luna kill Paz de Tavera and her mother?

Disclosed is the answer to this
where intense jealousy crawls and snakes in—
wild Scheherezade of the imagination
Umbra of your sex
of desire of need of lust for union
that will never, yes, will
never never end or be punished
Ay, mother of mine, never never
92
Dalit sa Pagdiriwang Bago Sumapit ang Huling

Pagtutuos
Ito’y umiiral sapagkat, kasanib ng pagsalungat sa sarili,
taglay nito ang kanyang pagkasugpo.”
- -Frederick Hegel
Sabi mo’y nabuhay ka sa panahong limot na sina Dorong

Asedillo at Kulas Encalledo.
Di na bale….
Kahit turing sa iyo’y lawit-dilang patay-gutom, sampay-bakod,
sinikap mong pagbutihin ang gawaing iniatas at
itinagubilin.
Paano nga maiaayos ang buto-buto sa mundong tagilid?
Suliraning masalimuot.
Sa gabi ng ating pagniniig, bakit nakatalukbong sa kulandong
ng isip?
Di mo naman ipinagbili ang mga buto ng yumaong magulang….
Di bawal ang mangarap habang sumisingasing sa paligid ang
baril at balila.
Kumakatok sa pinto ang kamao ng unos, nagbabanta….
Inihasik ng diktadurya ang sindak—dukot, tortyur, masaker,

pati Abu Sayyaf—
Pinag-usig at pinuksa ang mga makabayang mamamayan.
Nilapastangan ng mga patutot ng oligarko ang sinumang
tumutol—Putris!
pati Birhen siguro’y gagahasahin kung kailangan,
kahit hindi….
Sangkatutak na litanya ng bantay-salakay, mga kriminal na
nakabalatkayong mga pulitiko, mayor, gobernador,
heneral, pulis….
Batid kong nagsikap, naghirap, natuto’t nagturo ka, sa panahong
93
itinakda para sa iyo.

Alam ko ring nagtikang baguhin ang ordeng bulok—
Nagpuputok ang budhi kung makikitang tiklop-tuhod ang

madla sa imbing kapangyarihan ng burokrata’t
maylupa.
Hayan, umuungol ang bagyo sa bubungan at kumakalampag sa
rehas ng bintana.
Oras na. Namuo sa kilay ng katipang nilisan ang alimuom ng
pagkabalisa’t alaala.
Nalulusaw na ang duguang sapot na iniladlad ng kwago ni
Minerba kagabi.
Unti-unting sumusungaw ang liwanag sa tabing ng nakababagot

na singaw ng pulburang sumabog sa pilbaks at Molotob
kakteyl.
Di iyon kabag o utot ng kaluluwang naglamay sa putahan ng

Makati’t Malakanyang.
Ayos nang buto-buto….

Sa malas, ‘padre, bagamat walang nakakilala sa iyo, suwerte ka’t
ligtas ka sa kumunoy at kakungan nina Imelda, Gloria,
at--bakit sumagi sa isip?—
ang seksing Gina Lolobrigida!
Samantala, ipagdiwang natin ang dakilang halimbawa nina
Macario Sakay, Salud Algabre, Cherith Dayrit, at
Kemberley Jul Luna.
Darating din, Oo, tiyak ko--
Darating din ang hamog ng tag-araw
bagamat tila walang patid ang paghahari ng dahas….
94
Elegy for a Celebration Before the Last Reckoning
You said you lived in a time that had already forgotten Dong
Asedillo and Kulas Encalledo.
Never mind….
Even if they treat you as a starving good-for-nothing fence-
sitting bum, you strove to accomplish more efficiently
your duty, what has been assigned to you
How can we sort out the fragments in this unbalanced world?

An utterly bewildering problem.
In the night of our tryst, why are you taking refuge in the shroud
of your thoughts?
You didn’t sell the bones of your deceased parents….
It’s not forbidden to dream while around you bullets hiss and
bludgeons swing
On the door knock the fists of the storm, threatening….
The dictatorship sowed terror—forced

disappearances/kidnappings, torture, massacre, even
the terrible Abu Sayyaf—
The dictator persecuted and murdered citizens whose only guilt
was their burning love of country.
The oligarch’s pimps brutalized anyone who protested—
Fuck, even the Virgin could have been raped,
if necessary, even if it’s not….
Litanies galore of the opportunists, criminals disguised as

politicians, mayors, governors, generals, police….
I know that you struggled, suffered, learned and taught, in that
95
stretch of time allocated to you.

I also know that you attempted to change this rotten system—
Your conscience would be seething when you witnessed crowds
genuflect at the imbecilic power of the bureaucrats
and landlords.
Listen, the storm is beating down on the roofs and the iron bars
of the windows are rattling.
Now is the hour. On the eyebrows of the beloved gathered the

dew of anguish and remembering.
Congealed blood covering you is dissolving, that shroud
unfurled last night by Minerva’s owl.
Light slowly creeps in from behind the screen of powder

bursting—from Molotov cocktails and pillboxes….
That’s not fart nor belly-gas of the soul standing vigilant in the
whorehouses of Makati and Malacanang.
The bones are now properly assembled….

At first glance, Brod, even though nobody recognizes you,
you’re lucky, saved from the swamps and cesspool of
Imelda, Gloria, and—why did this suddenly pop up?—
the sexy Gina Lolobrigida!
Meanwhile, let’s praise the radiant examples of Macario Sakay,
Salud Algabre, Cherith Dayrit
and Kemberley Jul Luna.
That will come, yes, I’m certain—
The summer’s dew will come, to be sure,
despite the seemingly uninterrupted
reign of barbarism….
96
Pagsasanay Para Sa Bagong Internasyonal
Nang huling tumilaok si Michael Jackson

nagluksa ang buong mundo, pati mga hayup sa zoo sa
London, Paris, Tokyo at Kathmandu.
(Bangon sa pagkakabusabos)
Nakiramay pati mga naka-dilaw na monghe sa templo sa

Bangkok.
Pati na ang 1,500 bilanggo sa Cebu Provincial Detention &
Rehabilitation Center.
Dagling nagsanay sa tugtog ng “Thriller,” mahigit 9 oras,
naka-orange sila.
(Katarunga’y bulkang sasabog)
Sabi ni Wenjiel Resane, presong gumaganap bilang kaibigang

babae ni Jackson:
“Nalungkot kami, nawala ang aming idolo.”
Dagdag ni Crisanto Nero, 38, sa papel ni Jackson:
“Tuwa kaming bantog ang video namin sa YouTube.”
(Kaisipa’y palayain)
24.3 milyong “hit” ang video mula pa 2007, isang milyon sa loob
ng 24 oras pagkamatay ni Jackson.
Ayon kay Byron Garcia, arkitekto ng palabas sa likod ng rehas:

“Diyos sa amin si Jackson.”
97
Dumarami ang bilang ng mga bilanggo (di inabot ng “Anak” ni
Freddie Aguilar) sanhi sa matinding paghihikahos,
salamat sa grasya ng rehimeng U.S.-Arroyo.
Samantala, patuloy ang exercise ng ating mga kababayan.
Ewan ko kung may “Thriller” ding sinasanay ang mga OFW sa

Dubai, Abu Dabi, Roma, Singapore, Hong Kong—
Nasaan si Lorna Laraquel sa kanyang piitan malapit sa piramide

at espinghe sa Ehipto.
(Ito’y huling paglalaban)
Sa kabila ng lahat, masaya si Gwendolyn Lador, ang

choreographer, sa patuloy na pagsasayaw ng mga bilanggo.
Tatak-Pinoy iyon, di kamukha nina Charice Pempengco at kung

sinu-sino pang nagtitinda sa sarili sa Las Vegas at mga
putahang pangkultural sa Kanluran
(parunggit ni Freddie).
Samantala, sa morge sa Los Angeles, mapapansing

may sumisilip na ngiti
sa ilalim ng butas (na dating ilong) ng idolo.
98
Rehearsal for the New International
There is no document of civilization which is not at the same

time a document of barbarism. --Walter Benjamin
When Michael Jackson crowed his last

the whole world grieved, even the beasts in the zoos of London,
Paris, Tokyo, and Kathmandu.
(Arise from wretchedness)
Even the yellow-clad monks in the temples of Bangkok

condoled.
Even the 150,000 prisoners of Cebu Provincial Detention &
Rehabilitation Center.
Swiftly rehearsing to the tune of ‘Thriller” for more than nine
hours dressed in yellows and reds.
(Justice is a volcano exploding
Says Wenjiel Resane, prisoner who plays Jackson’s female friend:

“We’re saddened, our idol passed away.”
Crisanto Nero, 38, intones, as Jackson: “We’re glad our video is

famous on YouTube.”
(Emancipate consciousness)
The video has had 24.3 million hits since 2007, one million
within 24 hours of Jackson’s death.
Says Byron Garcia, architect of the show behind bars: “Jackson

is our God.”
(It’s the final struggle)
99
The number of prisoners is increasing (untouched by Freddie

Aguilar’s “Anak”) due to extreme poverty, thanks to the
benevolence of the US-Arroyo regime.
Meanwhile, our compatriots’ exercise continues.

I don’t know if there’s a “Thriller” that the OFWs are also
rehearsing in Dubai, Abu Dhabi, Rome, Singapore,
Hong Kong, and Lorna Laraquel in her cell
near the pyramids and sphinxes of Egypt.
(It’s the final struggle)
Despite all, Gwendolyn Lador, choreographer, is cheerful

about the prisoners’ tireless dancing.
That’s trade-mark Pinoy, unlike Charice Pempengco

and whoever else who peddle themselves in Las Vegas
and the cultural whorehouses of the West
(Freddie quips).
Meanwhile, in a morgue in Los Angeles, it can be observed

that a smile peeps through
the nostrils (the former nose) of the idol.

100
Elehiya sa Leuven, Belhika

Iiwan mo lahat ng iyong minamahal; ito ang palaso na
unang ipinawawalan ng busog ng pagkatapon….
--Dante Alighieri
Huli na raw ang lahat. Huli na, umalis na ang tren lulan ang
gunita't pangarap.
Huli na, lumipas na ang kamusmusan ng balikbayang
naglagalag.
Huli na, naiwan na tayo ng eruplanong patungong Tokyo at Los

Angeles.
Huli na, nakaraan na ang oras ng kagampan at pagsisiyam.
Tumulak na, malayo na ang bapor patungong Hong Kong at

Singapore.
Nagbabakasakaling aabot pa ang kable--Sayang, di biro,
nakapanghihinayang.
Huli ka na sa pangakong pinutakti ng agam-agam at pag-uulik-

ulik….
Huli na, nahulog na ang araw. Itikom ang labi, itiim ang
bagang….
Kahuluga'y naanod-lumubog sa dagat Sargasso ng

pagpapakumbaba't pagtitiis--
Pahabol ay di na magbubuhol--Tapos na ang pagsisisi't
pagpapatawad….
101
Walang taga-ligtas ang lalapag sa tarmak mula sa lobo ng iyong

pangarap.
Huli na nga, nakaraos na ang kasukdulan, di na maisasauli ang
naibigay.
Sinong manlalakbay ang magkakaila upang mahuli ang

katotohanan?
Mailap pa sa mabangis na hayop na nasukol, bumabalandra sa
rehas---
Mailap pa sa hibong nagpupumiglas--Saan ka nanggaling? Saan

pupunta?
Paos, hapo, dayukdok, gasgas ang siko't tuhod, gumagapang
mula sa guwang--
Maghulihan tayo ng loob, Estranghera, hinihintay ang ligayang

walang kahulilip.
[Leuven, Belhika, 1 Mayo 2003]

102
Elegy in Leuven, Belgium
--You will leave everything you love; this is the

arrow first released by the bow of your exile….
--Dante Alighieri
Late, they said everything is late. It’s gone, that train loaded with
memories and dreams
Late, they said it’s gone—the nomadic Filipina migrant’s
innocence is gone.
Late, we’ve been left behind by the airplane headed for Tokyo
and Los Angeles
Late, it’s over—the hours of an infant’s deliverance and funeral
dirges
Already departed. So distant now is the ship sailing toward

Hong Kong and Singapore
Taking a chance that the telegram will reach—what a pity, no
kidding, a terrible waste
You’re late—your promises rotting with anxiety and doubts….

Finished!
Too late, the sun has crashed! Close your mouth, squeeze your
jaws’ teeth—
The sense of it all floats and sinks in the Sargasso Sea of

humiliation and suffering—it’s over
103
Postscripts will not tie the knot—repentance and forgiveness are

over
No savior will land on the airport tarmac from the balloon of

your hopes
It’s over, the orgasm’s over, what’s given cannot be returned
What traveler will disavow so as to catch the truth?

It’s finished--
More slippery than the wild beast trapped, banging on
steel bars—
Wilder than desire struggling to escape—where did you come

from? Where are you going?
Hoarse, exhausted, starved, elbows and knees bruised, crawling

on all fours from the abyss….
Beloved foreigner, let’s catch what’s left inside, waiting for joy
in abeyance,
nothing ahead or behind,
endless….
104
Kung Sakaling Hindi na Tayo Magkita Muli
Tila matandang tugtugin na ito, Kasama, maski na wala akong
lamparang pagsisidlan upang makalusot sa guwardiya,
di bale, pakibigay sana ito….
Sabi nila’y kung saan marapa, doon bumangon, sige

pagbigyan--ngunit kung ikaw’y pinatid, dinukot, binugbog,
pinaluwa ang bituka, ginahasa, tinadtad ang laman?
Walang kailangan—
Kaluluwa ko’y katawang bahagi’t sangkap ng buong kalikasan,

lamang ito’y may kasaysaysang hinugot
mula sa tunggalian ng mga uri at lakas…
Ngunit bukas? Kasama, walang maliw ang kalikasan….
Dinggin mo’ng amihang humahaplos sa bawat pisngi ng dahon

at bunga ng mga halamang alaga ng gerilya
doon sa libis—
Masdan ang agos ng ulan sa bubong at sa daang bumibigay

tuwing takip-silim—
Pakiramdaman ang mga ibo’t hayup sa tabi ng ilog

nakatingala sa buwan at sa bituing kumikislap
105
(Oo, di maitatago,
umaalingasaw ang bangkay na nakabayubay sa gilid ng

hukay…)
Gayunpaman, magkita tayo doon sa tabi ng talong lumalagaslas

sa pusod ng gubat
at dumadaloy sa lilim ng lumulutang na ulap
sa balikat ng bundok….
Walang maliw ang kalikasan, bumibigay….
Sa bawat paalam, may handog na pagbating hitik ng

kontradiksiyong kalangkap ng bawat karanasan sa
buhay:
iyo’y tadhana, kapalaran—
Sige lang, di ko na uulitin, sa iba’t ibang anyo’t mukha,

magkikita muli tayo,
sa bawat pagkakataong may bumabaklas
at bumabalikwas
Naroon din ang humahalik at yumayapos—

Salamat, Kasama, hanggang sa muli,
pakisuyo, ingat—
106
In Case We Don’t Meet Again
This sounds like an old song, Comrade, though I have no lamp

into which I could retreat to fool the sentinel,
never mind, on my second retort or attempt,
kindly give this…
They say where you fall, there you will rise, all right let’s permit
it—but what if you’ve been tripped, seized, beaten,
entrails gutted, raped, flesh chopped—how to rise?
No need—
My soul is an embodied piece and substance of entire nature,
only it has a history drawn from the clash
of classes and forces…
But tomorrow? Comrade, nature has no end…
Hear the northern winds kissing each cheek of foliage

and fruit of the garden that the guerillas tend there on
the valley—
See the streaming rain on the roof and road that vanish at
nightfall—
Surmise the birds and beasts on the riverbank

staring at the moon and shining stars
107
(Yes, reeking are the corpses splayed on the edge of the grave…)
Let’s meet there by the waterfall that murmurs deep

in the forest and flows in the shadow of clouds
passing over
the shoulder and bosom of the
mountain…
Nature has no end, bountiful—
In every parting, there is the gift of a welcome
filled with contradictions that come
with every experience of life:
it’s fate, fortune—
Go ahead, I won’t repeat it, in many shapes and guises,

we’ll meet again every time someone breaks free
and stands firm
The kissers and embracers will also be there—

Thank you, Comrade, until then, please, take care—
Nature is infinite, eternal,

forever giving….

108
Bukas, May-Nilad!
“By the rivers of Babylon, there we sat

down, yea, we wept when we remembered Zion….”
--PSALM 137
Mula kay Ka Alegria, pasalubong ang cancion ng sosyalistang

pakikibaka
sa Venezuela, kalugod-lugod na balitang ipinaabot mo bilang
balik-bayan--
Bagamat sinagkaan hinarang, patuloy ang agos ng Revolucion
Bolivariano
sa lupang binusabos ng imperyalistang dayuhan unti-unting
bumabangon….
Sana’y magtagumpay ang mga makatarungan
Habang dito sa Babilonya kami’y nakadukwang sa ilog,

naghihintay
Tumatangis sa paggunita ng lupang tinubuan—kailan

tutubusin?
Paano namin isasatinig ang awit ng Panginoon sa bayang

ipinagtapunan?
Paano magdudulot ng tuwa sa pangungulila nang tangayin ng
estranghero?
Panalangin nating magtagumpay ang mga makatarungan

109
Nakaupo sa pampang ng ilog Babilonya, lumuluha
tumataghoy
Tangay ng agos kimkim ang alaala ng naiwang tahanan…
bumabalik
Sa panaginip ang lupang sinakop bansang nagkawatak-watak

di mapahinahon ang kaluluwa ng katawang hiniwa ng
paghihiwalay….
Sikapin nating ipagtagumpay ang makatarungan
Mula sa gilid ng ilog Babilonya umiiyak kung magugunita ka

O lupang binihag!
Yaong mga dumukot at gumahasa sa amin, humihingi—

ay naku--
Pilit kaming pinapakanta subalit paano, Ka Alegria, di ko

maubos maisip,
Paano aawitin ang cancion ng manunubos sa bayan ng
mambubusabos?
Oo, walang salang magtatagumpay ang mga makatarungan!

110
Tomorrow, May-Nilad
By the rivers of Babylon, there we sat down, yea, we wept

when we remembered Zion…
--Psalm 137
From Comrade Alegria, the canción of the socialist struggle in

Venezuela is a salutation, pleasing news that you bear as
a returnee—
Though thwarted and held back, the torrent of the Revolucion

Bolivariano spills into the land the foreigners had
enslaved rising steadily…
May the just overcome
While here in Babylon we bend down the river, waiting weeping

over remembrances of our native land—when will it be
saved?
How could we sing God’s song in the province of exile?
How could we offer laughter to despair when seized by

strangers?
We pray the just will overcome

111
Sitting on the banks of the Babylon river, sobbing whimpering
swept by the tide clutching the memories of home left
behind… returning
In the dream the occupied land a nation broken apart

restless is the body’s soul split by separation
Let’s strive to make the just overcome
From the riverside lying weeping when you’re remembered

O vanquished land!
Those who abducted and raped us, asking—ay naku—
Forcing us to sing but how, comrade Alegria, I could not

imagine
How to sing the redeemer’s canción in the land of conquerors?
Yes, the just will faultlessly overcome!

112
Mahal, Magpakailanman
Verweile doch, du bist so schon…

---Goethe, Faust II.
Hintay lang, sandali—
At sa sulok bumulong ang matiisi’t matiyagang kasama:

“Higit na mabuti ang magsindi ng kandila
kaysa isumpa ang dilim….”
Ngunit tanglaw ng bulalakaw sa iyong sulyap,

kumaladkad sa ‘king katawan
hanggang sa pampang, hilahod, yapos ko, Mariel,
ang lamang sumabog, lakas ng diwa’t pusong
uminog sa karnabal ng araw bituwin buwan
ng ating buhay….
Hintay, sandali, anong ganda—
Apoy sa mata mo’y sulong pumatnubay, pinagtalik ang dilim at

liwanag sa lamang nagnanais,
nagpupuyos sa bawat himaymay ng gunita--
Sa gabing pusikit, kumikislap ang elektrisidad

ng iyong hininga—
Sa kabilang pampang ng ilog doon tayo magtatagpo

malayo sa barikada, sa puntod ng
113
Alamogordo Ground Zero Fukushima—
Bulong ko’y walang kandilang naghihintay, sumpain nawa ako

sa pagbati ng iyong sumbat, Mariel –
Ay, “pasensiya na po….”
Hintay, tila may naiwan—
Walang tiis o tiyagang kailangan, ngunit di ko matandaan kung

ano….
Kung anumang natuklasang nakalimutan, puwede ba—
(Tanda mo pa ba ang islogan noong dekada 60?
“Isakatuparan ang imposible!”)
Ipaalam lamang, hindi paalam, Mahal ko,
kundi
padayon!
114
My Love, Whenever Ripeness Comes
Wait a while, a moment—
And from the corner whispered the patient and persevering

companion:
“It’s better to light a candle than curse the darkness….”
But illumined by the meteor of your glance, dragging my body

up the river bank, fagged out, Mariel,
I embrace
the flesh exploding, the power of the spirit
and heart
revolving around in the carnival of our sun stars moon
of our lives….
Wait a moment, so beautiful—
Fire in your eyes was the guiding torch, wedding darkness and
light
in the flesh desiring,
smoldering in every fiber of memory—
On the other side of the river bank, we will meet

far from the barricades, from the graves of
Alamogordo Ground Zero Fukushima—
Myself whisphering that there’s no candle waiting, myself

115
cursed by the greeting of your scolding, Mariel, ay,
“Be patient, please…. Pasensiya na po!”
Wait, it seems something’s been left behind—
No acquiescence or forbearance required, but for the life of me

I just can’t remember what….
Whatever is discovered that has been forgotten,

is it possible to—
(Remember still the Sixties slogan?

“Realize the impossible!”)
Send us the message, not farewell, my love, but
till we meet again!

116
TUNGKOL SA AWTOR & TAGA-SALIN
Kilalang kritiko at manlilikha sa larangang internasyonal,

si E. SAN JUAN, Jr. ay dating 2009 Fellow ng W.E. B. Du Bois Institute,
Harvard University. Siya’y awtor ng maraming libro, kabilang na ang
Balikbayang Sinta: An E. San Juan Reader (Ateneo University Press),
Sapagkat Iniibig Kita (University of the Philippines Press), Tinik sa
Kaluluwa; Rizal In Our Time (Anvil Publishing), Alay Sa Paglikha ng
Bukang-Liwayway (Ateneo University Press), Salud Algabre (University of
San Agustin Publishing House), at Balikbayang Mahal: Passages from Exile,
at Sutrang Kayumanggi (LuLu.com).
Inireprint kamakailan ng U.P. Press ang kalipunan ng mga
panunuring pampanitikan niya. Toward a People’s Literature. Inilathala ng
Lambert Academic Publishing Co., Saarbrucken, Germany, ang kanyang
Critical Interventions: From Joyce and Ibsen to Peirce and Kingston, kasunod
ng In the Wake of Terror (Lexington) at US Imperialism and Revolution in the
Philippines (Palgrave).
Naglingkod bilang Fulbright professor of American Studies sa
Katholieke Universiteit Leuven, Belgium at sa Trento University, Italy;
Fellow, Center for the Humanities, Wesleyan University; at visiting
professor of literature sa National Tsing Hua University at Tamkang
University, Taiwan. Nagturo rin siya sa University of the Philippines at
Ateneo de Manila University. Kamakailan naging Residential Fellow ng
Rockefeller Foundation Study & Conference Center sa Bellagio, Italya.
Kasalukuyang Emeritus Professor of English, Comparative Literature &
Ethnic Studies, USA, at katulong na patnugot ng maraming dyornal
kabilang ang Atlantic Studies, Left Curve, Cultural Logic, Kultura Kritika,
Ideya. at iba pa.
Ang taga-salin ng ilang piniling tula ay si CHARLIE
SAMUYA VERIC, nagtamo ng Ph.D. sa American Studies mula sa Yale
University. Isang makata at manunuri, si Veric ay naging kasamang
patnugot ng dawalang aklat: Suri at Sipat (2004) at Anticipating Filipinas
(2005), at kasalukuyang nagtuturo sa Ateneo de Manila University,
Quezon City, Pilipinas.

Mahal Magpakailanman Mga Tula Kakabit An

Uploaded by

Document Information

Copyright

Available Formats

Share this document

Share or Embed Document

Sharing Options

Did you find this document useful?

Is this content inappropriate?

Copyright:

Available Formats

Mahal Magpakailanman Mga Tula Kakabit An

Uploaded by

Copyright:

Available Formats

MAHAL

E. SAN JUAN, Jr.

Philippines Cultural Studies Center

Copyright © E. San Juan, Jr. 2011

Problema ng Makata sa Panahon ng Terorismo / 5

With a few exceptions, the poems in Filipino (here

Problema ng Makata sa Panahon ng Terorismo

Nangungulila Tila luho’t karangyaan

Habang patuloy ang kabuktutan kasamaan

Kamakailan, 57 biktima ng masaker sa Maguindanao

Payo ni Theodore Adorno, pantas sa sining at pilosopiya,

Ngunit lahat ba’y sakop na ng politika ng oportunismo’t dahas

Pwede ba’ng ipakawalan ang isang buntong-hininga

Pagtutol sa kabuktutang umiiral?

Luwalhating kay tamis sumisirit namumuro

Nanuot sa bawat himaymay lubos labis

Nangalisag sa bangis ng kalmot at kagat

Sagad-sagad sumisidhing labis lubos namumuro

Umabot sa kasukdulang putok ng nasa sa laman

Minsan lamang ang salagimsim

Apoy ng halik walang taros walang awa kung saan-saan

The Problem of the Poet in a Time of Terrorism

Mourning alone This looks like ostentatious luxury

Recently, 57 victims in the Maguindanao massacre

Terrible atrocities Horrendous

But is everything dominated by the politics of opportunism and

the State’s barbarism? By rape and plunder?

Comrade, may I be permitted to deviate from the party line?

While intuiting the smile from eyes flicking

Bliss so intense hissing

Penetrating to every fiber of the flesh to the bone reaching

Hair bristling ferocious scratch and bite

Up to the edge seething beyond over-reaching

Mounting to the climax flesh’s desire exploding

Once only this premonition

Souls knotted together limbs and arms entwining

Without any intent this coupling from a paradise

Only for an instant

Ay god, embracing you again

Biyernes ng Hapon sa Oktubre

Sa hapong taglagas may sugat na umaantak

Anong kabulaanan ang itinatago ng mga kortina sa

Naupos na sigarilyo’y ibinurol ko sa tabi ng Tulay ng mga

Kung bakit sumingit sa isip ang Abu Sayyaf?

(Oktubre 1, 2005, Willimantic, Connecticut, USA)

Friday Afternoon in October

In the autumn afternoon a wound festers

What fraud and deceptions do the window-curtains hide?

My cigarette stubb I interred beside the Bridge of Frogs

Harana sa Isang Kasama, Hinahamon ang Tadhana

Matatag matingkad mabagsik ang luntiang apoy sa iyong mga

Nabighani sa alindog ng iyong dangal habang lugmok sa

Walang sindak mong binalangkas ang ordeng mapanganib at

Kahit sumabog ang pulbura sa mundong binagtas ng iyong

Siklab ng huling paghuhukom, O armadong anghel--

Upang bawat nilalang ay magkaroon ng pambihirang katangian

O Paraluman ng pag-asa’t pagnanais, sisikapin kong ipagbunyi

Walang makapipigil sa iyo, matatag at mabagsik, luntiang apoy

yakap ang bulalakaw ng pagkakapantay-pantay

Serenade for a Comrade, Defying Fate

Strong vibrant fierce is the verdant fire in your eyes

Spellbound by the charm of your dignity while intoxicated with

Even if gunpowder explodes in the world where your conscience

Flare of last judgment, O armed angel—