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

As Adam
Monday, May 26, 2008
This much I remember: we were
happy, yes? Under the many bright trees
whose names we found tucked under our tongues
like stones or incandescent secrets floundering
as the air trembled. Sound, we called it,
even for that we had a name, but how could we
not have noticed that none called back? Sparrow,
we said, and it stared at us, unknowing with its black eyes.
Cricket we said but they did not cease their laments,
under the grass, their voices unwavering, their wings
violent, hidden. Desire I said, but I am not
as sure now, did I name it then or only afterwards,
beyond Havilah when as the fields grayed the grain
began their descent into bitterness? We were
too oblivious, too obedient to notice the absence
we granted things as we named them. Was it
this knowledge, or was it the naming itself
that undid us? Our tongues not content
inside our bodies, we longed to possess
even the other, possess them so long
as their suffering was not ours, and when they began
to shed their names by themselves, we invented
new ones, when they began to hurt us we broke them
down into more names, the part of the rose-bush
that wounds us is the thorn; that of the tree, the promise;
that of the serpent, the truth
. Or we simply looked
away, the way you looked away when we were driven
from the Garden, the part of my body that hurt you,
the heart
. I was sitting by the river then, and this much
I remember: the fruit lingering in my mouth,
the names it burned on my tongue
as I scampered away from the Voice. Until now
there is no word for this, and this is the myth
I make of it, the loss, everything:
I will be grateful to you forever, for the fall.

after Marie La ViƱa
posted by mdlc @ 11:03 PM  
1 Comments:
  • At 11:42 AM, Blogger Mr. Gray said…

    Uy ganda nito a. I mean, magaganda naman lahat ng mga tula mo. Pero napa-react lang ako kasi... ang ganda e. Steeg.

     
Post a Comment
<< Home
 
Nito-nito lang
Minsan
Da Bayaw Kolektib
Template by

Free Blogger Templates

BLOGGER

Salamat sa pagrereto