sunday service

November 4, 2017 § Leave a comment

matag Dominggo, muhalok akong tuhod
sa tiles, manlimpyo sa giludhang porselana.
mabati ko ang bendisyon sa disinfectant
hapdos sa akong aping.

dayong duko, trapohan ang singot sa agtang,
kupot sa dughan, mangayog ginhawa
maghandom sa pamilya nga sila mapadal-an
magdahom nga grasya gihapon ang
mutubag, bisag ako nalimot na sa
pagsimba
(Rotorua, New Zealand)

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Mirror

October 17, 2017 § Leave a comment

I never hated myself as much as I did tonight. Looking at the mirror has been more agonizing than I thought. I wish never had it in this flat. And this flat—this flat makes me feel underground, even when it is located at the second floor. I don’t like what I see in reflective surfaces. It is a reminder of how distraught  have become in the past four months. Smiling is okay, unless until I see my face. I’ve never been this pretentious. Have I came to here to learn how to pretend? Learn how to fool myself?

I thought the bad feeling had been because I felt myself getting uglier by the day. My face is always swollen, topped with unceasing growth of acne. I hated seeing it. So tonight I thought I’d try exercising by dancing to songs I used to dance around. To lift my spirits up. I was determined. Thought that if that does not work, I’ll just do that one-woman mosh to songs I rock out to. So I danced. It worked for a while, and it didn’t. I tried a different song to dance to. That worked too, but before the second chorus I hated doing it.

And still I attempted. I danced to Brave. Before it was over, I switched it to Out Tonight, which always made me feel great. I changed it to Supermassive Black Hole. I danced.

The song was not over, but I can’t hear it anymore. All there was is the ringing in my ears and my heartbeat. My breathing. Floors creaking. The song was lost.

I stopped and sat on my bed directly facing my mirror. I couldn’t recognize myself. I saw a girl, sweating, not living. She stared. I know it’s me but, I don’t know her. I don’t know here. I thought I was alone in this room. I fought the fear and flipped the mirror around. I glanced at the girl for the last time. She looked pathetic. And she disappeared away from the mirror.

When the ringing subsided, I realized my neck was soaked with heat. I took my shirt off and wrote an entry half-naked. Wished that girl could flip my side of the reflection.

I want to disappear.

Waking

October 17, 2017 § Leave a comment

August
That short moment of consciousness between sleeping and waking tricks me into thinking that I’d feel the sun’s heat through my window and my dad’s cursing. I open my eyes; I remember the heavy duvet on me and my cold, dry throat. I wake up remembering I am here, my home a fortune away. I pine for motherland. I pine for my favorite fast food chain. My cat. My dog. I wipe my face of crusts that were tears a few hours back. I am existing away from everything I’ve built myself around.

September
I am now used to the cold, used to the solitude and the quiet that is here. I feel a great disconnect to the life I used to have. When I chat with friends, I sometimes think about how long it will take before they forget me—or I, them. When I go back, will I still find the motherland’s sun a pleasure? Will I really have a life here? Can a car just please run over me?

October
It’s difficult waking up everyday with a dread of opening your eyes. I can’t comprehend how I am here and that it has been four months already. I sometimes stare at the street pavement, be hit with the realization that I’m seeing white birds and people walking toward me. I wish it were cars that had hit me. My new flat had me living near the business district, a one-person room on the second story of a what once used to be a motel. It was called Pineland.  The first floor reeks of a crusty, wet smell, like that of a towel never dry, or an oven never cleaned. The roaches are my flatmates. A large mirror is unattached in my room. I flip it around after I use it.

November

I forgot the feeling of my skin opening. The cold keeps my pores closed and I have never gone back to cutting. I wanna see my dog before I die.

 

To be continued.

 

Panganad sa Kabugnaw

August 21, 2017 § Leave a comment

20986112_1912828155398597_1258467711_nsa inadlaw-adlaw kong pag-alsa sa bug-at
nga duvet palayo sa akong lawas
nangdagko na tawn akong masel

gi
dawat ko na ang kanunayng pagpanggahi sa akong kamot
ug gikalimtan ko na ang dagway sa akong tiil nga di mabuwag sa medyas
gi
amigo ko na ang dugo nga mupabilin sa akong labakara kon ako manikma
Ang upat ka layer nga pambabaw
tulo nalang
di na magpaabot kada-oras sa iyang chat
ug ang mga samad sa ngabil puro na uwat

Apan
anaa gihapon ang init nga busay nga naggikan sa mata
manghilam-os sa nawng sa di pa mupiyong
matulog

Sa ilawom sa duvet, mag-ampo
nga ang adlaw mugawas ugma
para sa labhonon nako

 

(Rotorua, New Zealand)

Pan Balaan

April 22, 2017 § Leave a comment

Kampana ang kahumot sa pan sa Arbee’s; bag-ong luto.
Hinay-hinayng nilakaw akong kobalong tiil nga nalimot unsa ang makatsinelas.
Mahulog sa yuta ang lapok sa akong nawng
kon asa nagminyo ang luha, singot, ug abog sa kadlawong kalsada.

Sa pagduol nako, nikanta ang tiyan nga gahilab,
nangandoy nga mahapuhap ang pan
likod sa bildo ug alisngaw.

Sa kagutom, nausab ang nawng sa ginoo.

Ang init sa bag-ong haon mabati nalang sa kurog nga kamot.
Ang mata nipiyong, daw nag-ugom.

Ninaog akong kamot palayo sa bildo,
Ug ako nanguros.

Kaspa

March 20, 2017 § Leave a comment

Giilisan ko na akong imported shampoo
Gigamit ang sulod para mapahawa
ang mga puti, katol, nga kaspa
nga mingpriso sa akong ulo.

Sila kuno muhawa
Biyaan akong panit nga tabonon
sama sa yutang akong nadak-an.

Apan sa paghawa nila
Ako nabinlan og samad.
Sa ilang pag-uwat, ako nakapangutana
kon tinuod ba gyod ilang pagbiya.

Kay akong panit gidagit, mingkuyog
sa kaputi sa kaspa.

Ug sa puwa nga mingbisbis sa tabonong pagkatao
ako nakahuna-huna
Akong kaugalingog panit ang nisamad sa akoa.

 

(Kini sumpay sa English poem nga “Dandruff”)

 

Ang Panaw sa Tubig

March 20, 2017 § Leave a comment

Ulang mibundak—
dili grasya
Disgrasya.
Ang panganod
nihagba sa yuta.
gadala ug baha
luha
nga minglunop sa
atong siyudad.
tanan minglutaw—
atop
haligi
balay
ang tagbalay.
Apan sa dili pa musaka
ang luha pabalik sa mata
ang baha pabalik sa
inatay nga langit,
munaog ang tanang galutaw
mutago ang lawm nga baha
ubos sa yuta
kuyog sa yangungo ug ang nalumos
nga paglaum.
kini sila madugta. ilubong.
ug tuod, mosaka ug balik ang tubig
magpabilin ang lapok
ug buak
nga pagdahom
ug nasad—
mudag-um.

  • Tara P.

    Ageless. A dull soul trapped in a hyperactive meat suit. This blog is for my "literary" pieces that I deem publishable online. Reader discretion is advised.
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    Night shifting. Me, changing. #charaught Art in streets and in alleys. #rotorua