abo sa dila

May iniisip ka? Oo. Ano? Ayaw kong sabihin. Baka magkatotoo.

 
Dahil makulit ka
Kilala kita. Oo, ikaw 'yun: Nagkasalubong na tayo minsan, sa LRT, sa Gotohan, sa kanto ng Aurora at Katipunan. Nagkatinginan tayo. Hindi mo ako kinausap, pero alam ko, nakilala mo rin ako. Kaya ka narito, di ba? Para sabihing, Oo, oo, ikaw nga 'yun. Naaalala kita.
O, ha, Plurk, o, ha!
Radyo? Radyo?
Libreng humirit

Mag-exercise tayo tuwing umaga
Tambay ka muna
Lokal Kolor
Ano'ng hanap mo?
Basa lang nang basa
Tropa ko

    na, mula noong 24 Enero, 2006, ang nakitambay dito

Bulan
Monday, April 14, 2008
Silence like a starless
morning, which is not silence at all
but a form of longing, the moon like
an afterthought in the shape
of a sigh solid on your throat, a stone
turning to water in an instant.
A starless morning like that blue
horizon a ship sees when wanting
to dock finally and the wanting becomes real
like suddenly a vast fogless bay, real like
its cargo of spice and crosses and music,
weightless things so heavy on the shoulders
of the small brown-skinned people
in their loin-cloths on the shores.
In their loincloths with spears impaled
on the sand, speaking in consonants
lost on the slumbering eardrums of the old
world. But this is my country. This
is my country, old as water. This is my country
of pumice and songs only in minor-chords
only my ancestors don't know it,
don't know what to call it, this sadness
in six strings only. Count the sadnesses
and I will sing to you of my
blue starless mornings, my blue
starless horizons choked
with the suffering of my country,
suffering I only now remember because
of more suffering. I forget now the water
in my ancestors’ eyes when they spoke of
the moon, Bulan with her one silver
eye, their lips forming the shape
of bubbles or rain or was it a comb
hung like a soundless chime in the heavens.
Bulan I call her now because it sounds
so brown. I forget now her hair black
as the flowing rivers of my broken archipelago,
her ankles brown as harvest soil
which everyone forgets because of
the luminous grains soon to be in their bellies.
Bulan I forget now even the shadows
that each name held. Bulan to ask you to hold me
sounds so much like an infidelity, like someone
dying but when she cries for mercy
her murderers do not understand.
Or maybe they hear some other thing, More
or Please I like it or Someday no one
will remember this so just go on
killing me. It's okay. Bulan I forget
your name sometimes but it's okay
the moon shines everywhere
and I can call you by whatever name I want.
I can even keep silent if I want to.
Even if I bleed.
posted by mdlc @ 3:52 PM  
1 Comments:
  • At 7:57 PM, Blogger Mr. Gray said…

    ang ganda-ganda ng tulang 'to. salamat sa pagpost Mikael. Galing!

     
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