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

Renga Que Rico 10/27
Wednesday, October 29, 2008
There are times when I need
to be reminded that I am home.
Cobwebs and the sad texture
of bricks. Wobbly dinner tables. Large,
haunted windows, where the daze
of the afternoon passes through 
the grooves of a small child’s
fingerprints. Where will these lines
lead? What fate do they shape
with their whorls?
And you say they hold no truth.
What will the elders say? The shamans,
nobody will listen…
Only the child convinces. The small fingers
write with colored paint, what old mouths
deign not say
through cracked lips and raisin-leather hands
with glistening eyes of wisdom, lined with crow’s feet
of laughter and pain, pain and laughter—
the same words again, throbbing,
and again from different people:
Home and my little knuckles,
Turning white from the knowledge of shamans:
That the magic goes away.  

Joel Toledo, Marne Kilates, Pancho Villanueva, Sasha Martinez, Karl de Mesa, Mikael de Lara Co, Mo Francisco, Marie La Vina, Glenn Atanacio

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posted by mdlc @ 5:07 PM  
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