Filipino Jesuits Literary Blog

1st Place (English Poetry)

2007-01-16T07:54:00.000+08:00

A Shepherd’s Sonnet

By Jong Oledan

The day You gave me that breathtaking smile

Was the day I began to care living.

For, though I did not mind walking a mile,

From where I came, there was so much lacking.

It happened first on a balding pasture

Where thinning sheep chilled to death while asleep.

Lo! From the half-torn heaven came a choir

Of angels gifting glad tidings to keep.

The guiding Star conquered the cunning Night;

The darkness ended with Your mother’s bid.

Mildly gazing, you took away my fright,

Which, in my eager waiting, shrewdly hid.

I had never thought that moment could be

God’s very self becoming gift to me.

2nd Place (English Poetry)

2007-01-16T07:52:00.000+08:00

Love’s Gale

by Mark Lopez

The north wind

now here blows,

searing skin,

and warming souls.

“The Lord is coming!”

by gusts and whispers

I am told.

Playful, like the sea,

waking, calling, cold.

The heavens speak to me

through this wind

from tales of old.

“Arise! And keep awake!

For not by snow nor harness’ shake

--- but by love’s gale ---

shall somber silence break!”

These days,

Therefore, I pray

The winds

come and blown

my way

Reach far

to where you are.

Bluster you free

let you to see

have no fear

make you hear

“The Lord is coming!”

3rd Place (English Poetry)

2007-01-16T07:51:00.000+08:00

A Child Of Peace

By Alvin Laput

A new child is born

At my heart’s very core

A gift from the Father

My purest heart needs to heed

He will bring light to my world

Heal my blindness, fill my hunger

Brings havoc to my old ways

But serenity to the new

His ways are different from my ways

Asking me to leave everything I believe

Acceptance is difficult

That it tears my person apart

But I know he’s the one

The one I need to believe

To trust and to hold-on

That in the end he will bring me peace.

1st Place (Tula)

2007-01-16T07:49:00.001+08:00

Tagpuan

By KAKA

Isang batang isinilang sa sabsaban,

Langit nagbunyi sa nasaksihan.

Maria at Jose tiwala’y walang sawa,

Sa puso ng mag-irog lubos ang tuwa.

Sa kabilang dako tatlong mago,

Naglalakbay galing sa malayo.

Pagod hindi inanda tala’y sundan,

Kapayapaang hangad ay makamtan.

Sa ilang mga pastol nagtatanod,

Kalangita’y napuspos sa liwanag nalugod.

Mga anghel nagalak, pumanaog sa ilang,

Kayong Mapalad Humayo sa Haring isinilang.

Maria at Jose pangamba’y napawi

Sa ngiti ng aba nakitang walang sawi.

Tanong na bumabagabag sa dalawa,

kasaguta’y nakita sa sanggol na tuwa.

Sa sinag ng tala mago’y patuloy sa pagnilay,

Nawa hari’y masilayan ng loob ay palagay.

Nag-aalab sa sabik puso’t damdamin,

Katuparang dulot ay galak sa dilim.

Mga pastol natunganga sa nakita,

Halinat magpunta sa Hari’y magpakita.

Walang hinahanap kundi maging saksi

Sa sabi ng angel halina upang ‘di magsisi.

Sa Belen mga gala lahat nagtagpo,

Namangha sa isang hari wari’y nilumpo.

Sulyap sa tala at alaala ng mga kirubin,

Napagtantong toto’t halina at damhin.

Sa paglisan bitbit sa puso isang pabaon,

Mga sinaksi hindi lilipas sa panahon.

Alaala na bumago ng puso at isipan,

Payapang dulot ’di kaylan malilimutan.

1st Place (Tula)

2007-01-16T07:47:00.000+08:00

Tuloy…

By KAKA

Sino ako para dalawin, Ina ng Poon,

Sa iyong bati Sanggol sa tiya’y tumalon.

Halika tumuloy sa aking dampa,

Magalak sa mumunti kong sapa.

Buong galak hamak iyong dinalaw,

Puso ko’y iyong binigyang linaw.

Paano napadpad dito sa aming dako,

Ina at Poon, Sino ako?

Ikot ng buhay tila tumila,

Tibok ng puso umiba ang timpla.

Sa inyong harap bakat ang galak,

Gusto man magwika walang maitalak.

Sa iyong pamamalagi pasan pinagaan,

Mahigpit na yakap aking tatandaan.

Ating kumustahan hindi mo tinantanan,

Puso’y umaapaw ako‘y inyong dinaanan.

Ako’y wala ngunit napili’t pinagpala,

Sanggol sa aking Tiya’ y tulad ng tala.

Saksi sa magaganap may papuri’t pasalamat.

Ang daa’y hawiin sa mundong may lamat.

Sa inyong pagtuloy ako’y nagpupugay,

Bukal ng loobin nagbubunying tunay.

Ikaw Maria’y tawawaging mapalad,

At iyong ipinaglilihi’y matutulad.

2nd Prize (Tula)

2007-01-16T07:46:00.000+08:00

( 2^nd PRIZE )

Ulilang Lata

By Rico Adapon

Sa isang madilim at ulilang bayan,

Doon isinilang latang walang laman

Di kaginsa-ginsa’y pinulot na lamang

Nitong mga batang hari ng tambakan.

Sinikap maging tambol

Nitong mga musikerong pulpol,

Sinabayan ng himig, palakpak at sipol,

Sa tambaka’y muling nagbalik,

Ang ulilang latang wari’y humihibik,

Sa kamay ng pulubing tila nanabik,

Sa kalansing ng baryang hindi umiimik,

Pamatid gutom ngayong paskong sasapit.

Ulilang lata’y ipinukol,

At muling naging tambol,

sinabayan ng matinis na ungol,

at tahol ng mga asong ulol,

at mga kerubing sumisipol

sa pagsilang ng Hari at sanggol.

Winner of the Christmas Literary Contest

2007-01-16T07:38:00.000+08:00

( 3^rd PRIZE )

Munting Hari

by Henry Ponce

Sa kadiliman ng gabi, mga tala ay nagniningning

Ngunit katangi-tangi ang isang bituin

Nagdala ng pananabik sa mga pusong nananalangin

Sa isang manunubos na pinangakong darating

Matamlay na gabi ay biglang sumigla

Pagsilang ng munting Hari’y nakamamangha

Daladala Niya’y pag-asa para sa masa

Alay Niya para sa buong madla

Isang munting Hari ngayo’y isinilang na

Walang korona ngunit mga anghel Siya’y sinasamba

Makapangyarihang Diyos na maamo’t mapagkumbaba

Kaligtasan ang dala ng Batang pinagpala

Tanong ng marami, nasaan ang munting Hari

Matatagpuan mo Siya sa sabsaban ngayong gabi

Sa dayaming trono Niya wala Siyang paki

Dalawin mo Siya’t huwag kang mag-atubili.

Ito na ang hinihintay ng mga pusong nalulumbay

Pagsilang ng munting Hari na isa lang ang pakay

Mga tao’y sa kasalanan, hindi mamamatay

Sa pag-ibig sa sangkatauhan, buhay Niya’y iaalay.

Demonyita

2006-08-19T21:23:00.000+08:00

At magandang umaga din, sa iyo, misis.
Mabuti naman at natapos ka na ring dumakdak:
Pagkat kasalukuyan mong
Kinukubli
Ang malaking tinga sa ngipin mong pustiso na
ilang libo rin ang bayad
sa ilang libo ring kinupit.

Magandang hapon po.
Huwag mag-aalala, misis, at napansin na namin
ang terno mong pink na blusa at pantalon
na kakulay ng iyong lipstick na imported
at polish na ipinabili mo pa sa anak mo sa Maynila.
Napaniniwala mo na kaming mayaman ka,
sa halip ng pagkaboses Matutina.

Aba, isang magandang gabi, misis.
Subalit batid naman namin
na ang kaputian mo ay isang panlilinlang
isang pandaraya
tulad ng sari-saring mga aninong namamahay sa iyong puso
na hindi sadyang ipinapamalas
ng baluktot mong Ingles.

Salamat po, misis.
Hindi ko po sukat-akalain
na ngayon ko lang mapatutunayan
na kailangan laging handa:
na ang demonyo ay laging nagbabanta
at ang ate niya ang nagpapasuweldo.

The Prayer of the Prodigal Son

2006-05-10T18:39:00.000+08:00

-eric santillan-
--may 9, 2006--

they all thought you were at home
just waiting.
but i got your message the other day-
the one that says you will be here for me-
and realized you knew where i was
and what i was doing.

you watched from a distance
as i wasted my life away.
you gave me time
and space
knowing perhaps that i had to be far from you
to know how precious you really are to me.

(if you had watched more closely
you would have seen our picture
at my bedside table.
i look at it every night
...and remember.)

please
wait
for me.
and this may take a long time
but i am here too
still
on life's byways and highways
looking for home
looking for you
looking for me.

And the Greatest of These is...

2006-05-10T18:38:00.000+08:00

-eric santillan-

fucked up in muck
stuck deep into
luckless
quagmires.
blackhole of the past
pulling in a
tug-of-war of desires.

about to drown in neck-deep
mud.

the more i struggle, the more
i seem to sink.
hope is the first to give way
as i stopped shouting for help
because no one is there to listen to pitiful cries
anyway.

faith unraveled as a single strand
unravels cloth gradually.

love is the last to go
like a flickering candle in the dark.

strangely, just when the candle was blown by the wind
that's when i felt your hand pull me out.

Gagamba

2006-05-10T18:37:00.000+08:00

eric santillan
-8 day retreat. Mirador JesuitVilla.-

Nagkanda-hulog-hulog ka pa
Sa pagpanday ng bahay mong
Liliparin lamang ng hangin at
Lulunurin ng ulan.

Ewan ko ba kung nakikita mo ang
Papalapit na agos
O ang unos na sisira
Ng iyong mga pangarap.

Tuloy, iindap-indap at sasayaw-sayaw
Ka sa gitna ng iyong buhol-buhol
Na gawa-gawang
Bahay-bahayan.

Papalapit na ang ulan.
Siguradong magsisimula ka ulit.

Ngunit nakakapagtaka.
Tuloy ka pa rin.

Bagong Bulong

2006-03-06T21:41:00.000+08:00

ni Fr. Victor Baltazar, S.J. aka Reggie Adviento
(Inalay sa isang kapatid sa Kapisanan)

tila putikang tubig
ang abong dinilig
ng banal Mong tubig:
butil-butil na kinumpol,
sa noo nami’y kinintal,
paggunita sa nangagkalat na lupa
na tumipon sa ‘Yong Salita.
at sa isang iglap ay nalikha
kaayusang sinisibulan
ng samu’t saring gandang
humihinga’t dumarama,
kumikilos, nagpapagal,
nag-iisip at nagmamahal.

sana’y may bulong Kang bago’t
hingahan ang putikang tubig na loob ko,
pagkumpul-kumpulin rin nawa
na parang abong naging krus,
itong butil-butil kong
pagbangon at pagdapa
sa pananalig at pag-ibig.
panaugin ang krus mula noo
hanggang puso at pag puno na’t hitik
sa kilos ng katawan, masdan ako’t ngitian—
bumulalas rin ng “kayganda!”
sabay ganyakin mo akong muli
sa kapana-panabik
mong inuuwiang
pahinga.

Collegio SR Bellarmino, Roma
06.03.06

Kay Ditas sa Ika-20 Anibersaryo ng Mala-Rebolusyon Nating Pag-ibig

2006-02-24T23:38:00.000+08:00

ni Sch. Weng Bava, SJ

Una tayong nagkita sa isang dinispers na rally sa Mendiola
Nanginginig ka at pamura-mura, Lintek na mga pulis ‘yan!
Ang sabi mo, habang pinipiga ang laylayan ng ‘yong kamiseta
Giniginaw ka subalit nag-aapoy ang dibdib mo sa galit

Tapos nagkita na naman tayo doon sa may Welcome Rotonda
Kung saan magtatagpo ang pangkat niyo patungong EDSA
May bigkis ang ‘yong noo at may hawak kang plakard:
Tama na! Sobra na! Palitan na!

Sa ikatlo nating pagtatagpo, humihiyaw at pumapalakpak ka
Nang i-announce ni June Keithley: Marcos has fled the country!
Sumasayaw ka kasama ng mga pari at madre, guro, estudyante
Habang ako sa isang sulok kasama ng mga kargador at mason

At doon nilapitan kita, nagpakilala ako, Efren ang tawag sa akin,
Si Ditas naman ako, ang malumanay mong tugon sa tanong ko
At isang taon nga, matapos ang masusing panliligaw at suyuan
Tutol man ang erpat at ermat mo, isinilang mo si Benigno

Kaya’t taun-taon, tuwing anibersaryo ng EDSA, may date tayo
Namamasyal sa Roxas Boulevard, kumakain sa Tropical Hut
At sa hapon magsisimba, si Cardinal Sin ang naghohomilya
At nagtatalumpati naman si Gng. Pangulo, Corazon Aquino

Itung-ito ang kuwento ng ating pag-ibig at anibersaryo
Gigising tayo ng madaling araw, liliguan ang bata (na naging
dalawa, tatlo, apat, lima), kakain ng almusal-- kape at pandesal
At saka tutulak patungo ng EDSA, para sa ating pagdiriwang

Subalit nang pitong taong gulang na si Benigno, nagdahilan ka
Masakit ‘ka mo ang ‘yong ulo, may sinat si Anton, may ubo si Cito
Kaya’t hindi kayo, wika mo, makakasama sa taunang nating ritwal
‘Di bale na ang sabi ko, baka sa susunod magkakasama muli tayo

Sa pagdating ng walo, siyam, sampu at labing isang anibersaryo
Sunod-sunod ang mga pagdadahilan mo: marami pang labada
Ang naghihintay labhan, darating ang pinsan ng lolang taga Obando
Tatapusin mo ang project ni Bingbing, ipapatuli si Benigno

Samantala sa ikalabin-dalawa, ikatlo at labin-apat, ang sabi mo
Wala namang nababago, maliit pa rin ang ating kwarto, mababa
Ang aking suweldo, bungangera pa rin ang landlady, mahal pa rin
Ang gasul, walang tulo ang gripo, tinitingi ang Nawasa’t Meralco

Nandiyan pa rin ang mga pusakal, na ngayo’y naka-Barong Tagalog
Maitim pa rin ang Ilog Pasig, kasing baho ng Commission on Election
Mababa pa rin ang antas ng edukasyon, baku-bako ang mga daan
Nangongotong ang mga pulis, nagpapabayad ang mga opisyal, Siyet!

Mabuti pa siguro ang namundok ako! Ang minsan mong nabanggit
Sa gitna ng panonood ng balita sa T.V. tungkol sa kung sino
Ang nang-umit ng ganoon at ganito, sino ang may bagong mansyon
Magarang sasakyan, mga seksing kerida, may account sa Switzerland

Noong napilit kitang dumalo sa ikalabinlimang anibersaryo ng EDSA
Nag-walk out ka sa gitna ng pagtatalumpati ng ating pangulo pagkat
Naaalala mo, ang wika mo, ang mga pangakong walang katuparan
Mga tinorture nung Martial Law, squatters na dinemolish sa Tondo

Kaya’t nagpasya kang sa Canada na lang makipagsapalaran
Ako na lang at ang mga bata kung minsan, ang nagpupunta sa EDSA
Si Cito pala, magba-valedictorian yata sa C.P. Garcia at si Bingbing,
First honor naman sa elementarya at si Benigno natin, nurse na sa March

Natanggap mo ba ang first communion picture ni Junjun at ‘yong card
Ni Cito (na may bagsak ng isang subject!), kasama ng liham ko’t pag-aasam
Na sana sa ikadalawampung anibersaryo natin, makauwi ka man lamang
Dahil hindi sapat ang text lamang, para sabihing, Happy Anniversary Darling!

Love Efren

Light A Candle

2006-01-23T11:04:00.000+08:00

by Sch. Weng Bava, SJ

Light a candle
Not the ordinary ones
You can buy from
Outside the Church
Light one that has scent
And intricately carved
(With flowers or anagrams)

Strike a match
And burn your incense oil
Put bouquets in front
Of the Blessed Mother
Open your novena booklets
And chant the Te Deum
(If it has one)

And while you’re at it—
Kneel
And thank God for your kids
That never have to beg
In the alleys until midnight
Thank Him for your warm
Mattress that the baglady
Dreams of every night
Thank Him for the food
On your table that would soon
Find its way to the dump
(For scavengers to feast on)

And beg Him that He
May not take all these away
Until you only have
A kerosene for a candle
A can of lard for incense
And quickly wilting memories
(As garland fit for a Queen)

Ang Panaginip ni Icarus

2006-01-21T20:45:00.000+08:00

ni Sch. Weng Bava, SJ

Miminsang nabanggit
ko na sa 'yo ang
napagin'pan kong
pagsasa-ibon mo
kung paanong isang
katanghaliang tapat
bigla mong inunat
ang dalawa mong kamay
at kumampay kang
parang sumasagwan
sa hanging nilalambungan
ng maninipis na ulap

Ibinaling-baling mo
ang iyong tuka nang
pakal'wa't pakanan
tinitiyak kung
may lawing magtatangka
na dagitin ka o ang yong
inakay
nang makuntento--
kinahig mo nang pagka
bilis-bilis ang lupang
'yong kinatitindigan at
nasulasok ng alikabok
ang tigang na paligid

Subalit 'di mo alintana
ni ininda ng bagwis
mong katutubo pa lamang
ang naglalaglagang
butil ng buhanging
nakapupuwing
nanlilisik ang iyong
titig sa naglalagablab na apoy
sa kalawakan
at 'sang saglit pa
pumailanlang kang
parang guryong humulagpos
sa bisig ng mananaranggola

Humahagibis ang pagsibat
sa maugong na langit
habang sa ibaba--naghihiyawan
sa galak at wari'y inggit
ang mga puno ng aguho

Sumisirko-sirko
nagpupumisik sa
nakalululang tarik
sa kinakakanlungan
ng buwan at bituin at araw

Inunat ko ang mga kamay
kumampay sa hanging
parang naglalayag
at unti-unti, sumibol
ang sarili kong bagwis

Paghihintay

2006-01-11T08:05:00.000+08:00

ni Gil Donayre, SJ

Hinihintay ko ang pagsikat ng araw,
ang pagsapit ng bagong umaga.

Kinumutan ng makakapal na ulap
ang mga unang silahis ng araw.

Umambon.

Umulan.

Bukas.
Baka bukas.
Uupo ako muli rito.
Mag-aantabay sa wisyo ng langit.

Baka sa darating na araw,
mararanasan ko rin ang
pagbububukang-liwayway.

Simbang Gabi ni Mang Tinong Sintu-sinto

2006-01-11T08:04:00.000+08:00

ni Weng Bava, SJ

Alas tres treinta ng umaga
Nagsisimulang gumising
Ang mga kaluluwang pagal
Sa maghapong paggawa
At pagbubungkal
Na kung anu-anong maaaring
Ipantawid gutom
O ibalabal man lang
Sa katawang nanginginig
Sa ginaw at nanlilimahid sa
Hilahil

Sa sulok niyang angkin
Matatanaw ang yayat niyang
Katawang hinahagupit ng sasal
Ng ubo ng tuberculosis
Subalit matamang nakamasid
Sa patay-sinding liyab ng
Isang libo’t isang bumbilyang
Pula
Berde
Asuldilawputi
Kumikislap ang mga matang
Wala ni isang pikit
Manghang-mangha sa grupong
Nakapalibot sa sanggol na hubad

Ito ang hari, ito naman ang prinsipe
Narito ang duke, ang pastol at ang mga ale
Sa banda roon may kabayong ngumunguya
Sa kanan ay tupa o kambing yata
Ang mag-asawa, nahihiya sa mga bisita
Sa bubong naman ay may anghel
Kumpleto na, kumpleto na!

At ako, ako ang tagapalis ng langaw
Tagabugaw ng lamok na magtatangkang
Lumapit sa Niñong Bathala

Titilaok ang manok, babalik sa kama
Ang mga nagsipamili ng puto bungbong
At siya, magbabantay, maghihintay
Hanggang magsimbang gabi muli
Mamaya, mamaya

Isang Paalala

2006-01-11T08:03:00.000+08:00

ni Doc Atoy Salazar, SJ

Katawan ko ay patpat
Palarang damit makintab
Inilawang makislap
Nang matanaw ng lahat

Tala akong kasama
Nagbigay liwanag sa
Tatlong magong banyaga
Hanggang sabsabang aba

‘sang kuwebang ubod dilim
‘sang amang walang kimkim
‘sang Inang Birhen mandin
‘sang sanggol, Diyos natin

S’yang musmos na Dakila
Anak ng Mahiwaga
Niñong tanglaw sa dilim
S’yang kaligtasan natin

Mula sa araw na ‘yon
Magpasahanggang ngayon
Ako’y nagpapaalala
Sa araw na sinilang Siya.

A Manger's Thoughts

2006-01-11T08:01:00.000+08:00

by Atoy Salazar, M.D., S.J.

From an unnamed wood
Had I been born,
What once sturd’ly stood
A tree now meekly torn.

My rough-grained boughs
Four walls did build,
A floor that’s small
Roof open to the wind.

In this cold of night
I was not meant to be
The bearer of cool hay
For the ox and ass around me.

Instead I was to humbly hold
In my smoothened box’d bark,
With dry yarns of grass of gold
A tiny babe Who conquered the dark

His little body,
The Word enfleshed
Mankind’s salvation’s glory,
A Son most richly blest.

And so indeed my trunk was split
But not to be thrown, left to rot.
My King, My Savior, My Christ
To cradle Him was my lot

The Leaf

2006-01-11T08:00:00.000+08:00

by Neo Saicon, SJ

It clings to the twig, and swings
On a cold autumn week,
The last to leave.
When winter winds prick,
It waits…
And waits…
And waits and then —
Flicks!

Tossing and turning
Upon the cold winds calling,
Its journey of ending — beginning.
Gliding and sliding
And tumbling and rolling
Towards the frosty earth’s landing.
Relishing,
Its swinging and swaying,
As if everlasting.
Dancing and prancing,
And swerving and swirling
In a world awaiting,
Its coming.
Giving,
Into the sway of a rhythm.
Frolicking and playing
In the season that seems unending.

Finally.
It rests
The earth unmoving.
The grass uncaring.
The world forgetting.
It rests.

And the world returns to its humdrum beat.
And the world forgets the dance of the leaf.
And so the world forgets…
Just like it does with Christmas.

Innocent Carollers

2006-01-11T07:59:00.000+08:00

by EJ Gerilla

Lights are on; tunes fill the airwaves,
Christmas has gained its welcome.
Lo, a glimpse of newness over bleakness,
Despite hard times and hunger’s pangs.
Blessed are the beggars
in the triumph of the Light;
Hope breaks the spell of darkness.

Yuletide remains a season for moppets.
Christmas belongs to the innocent.
No grumbling, no fuss, no worries.
Old familiar tunes linger in their ears.
Anticipating the adventure of caroling this year.

So there go the children like loose hunters, gathering bottle caps,
eying nails and slender wood.
Caps flattened, polished
and pinned to a rod with piercing nails
and bruised fingers.
A tambourine is born
to accompany the humming birds.

Our carolers are ready.

They begin with the neighbors,
Raising merry tunes, shaking their tambourine.
Christmas greetings to each household
Chanting of straining voices linger over the panes
Gathering bills, coins, fruits and goodies
As the night stretches into long darkness,
Sometimes unfortunate at hostile households
Chased by unfriendly scamps and dogs
But never disheartened.
Weary yet patient, persevering.
Daring to sing for more homes.

Red lights, chasing cars in traffic,
Singing Christmas tunes,
shaking their tambourine.
Good for a few pennies
if windows slide down
before the lights turn green.

Trudging a few more steps,
Before they end their songs.
They wander far and near
like troubadours and minstrels.
When the night is worn
and distances covered wide
…it’s time to go home.

A night of innocent caroling done.
They divide the fruits of their toil.

One waif, out of his share,
buys a pack of milk.
To a tiny Tondo shanty the boy hurries.
There a babe has waited all night,
Weeping and sighing.
But soon the child in the hammock feeds
Peaceful and so tender,
gazing at his kuya’s sweetest smile.

The Fire Tree

2005-12-14T20:51:00.000+08:00

Jason K. Dy, SJ

You root yourself
beside an old, stone-cold building
ready to lick and burn it
with your fiery flowers
then paint its walls black

and I,
standing from a distance,
afraid to get burned.

Yet from afar
you stand still
like in those summers past
of green leaves unleaving,
of flowers blooming then enflaming
with yellows and vermilions
without bothering
the mockery of usually green trees
of your uncommon guise.

Silently you root yourself
in the earth’s womb
that bears you since
you were a tiny seed
sowed by invisible hands

and embrace yourself—
a burning tree
that neither blazes nor flickers
as the wind passes
nor consumes others near,
nearest you

but you only breathe life
into the old, stone-cold building
and shower life’s hue
into the green grass on your foothold
by the sheer falling of your redness,

and invite me—
still from a distance—
to come nearer.

June 20, 2002
Berchmans Building

Victoria's Verse No. 3

2005-12-09T13:54:00.000+08:00

by Sch. Weng Bava, SJ

i never ask you a rose garden
but a place to just rest awhile
while storm rages from within and without
to soothe my aching limbs and worn-out flesh
a place to hide away from pelting pain
free at last to wipe my face of mingled dust
and tears

i never ask for a palace in the sky
a hut will do to shield me from the stifling heat
of my own unbearable, consuming passion
to breathe the fresh breeze of unspoilt love
in the dawn of a new day when love was love and you
were mine

but you lay me down a bed of thorns
and tug me in a blanket of snow
i shiver from the biting cold and howl like the wind
numb in the coldness of my own
silly dreams

Weng is a second year philosopher currently taking up his MA in Comparative Literature in the University of the Philippines, Diliman. He is the resident cineaste in Loyola House of Studies and favors a wide range of movies from Ang Mga Mata ni Angelina to that of Francois Ozon's Water Drops on Burning Rocks. A prolific writer, Weng's works are likened to that of Anton Chekov and Ernest Hemingway. He's known as the blogger afficionado maintaning more than nine blogs in blogspot.

bells

2005-12-07T12:00:00.000+08:00

by Sch. Edward Joseph Magtoto, SJ

silence.

The chirps of birds mean nothing.
The chatter of crickets unimportant.
The clicking keyboards,
the harsh banter of plates and cutlery,
the canned melodies from a silver box—
all sound the same, all mean the same,
for they mean not more than the silence within.

When shall I hear you sing, O bells of yore?
I long for that faithful melody—the hymn of high noon,
the cadenced chant of twilight.
I long to close my eyes and hear
that clanging tenor which soothes my soul.
I long to breathe in that song of praise: a serenade
to the Woman who sings for joy.
I long for that rhythmic poetry of ringing—
when the silence within resounds the more,
when the choreographed revelry of your delightful chimes
announce the banquet to friends once more.

Jody is on his second year of Philosophy at the Ateneo de Manila University. He is also finishing a thesis for his MS in Computer Science. Jody loves to watch art films and read novels. Jody is into photography and verse and prose composition. Along with other Jesuit enthusiasts, he maintains a blog about food and spirituality entitled The Jesuit Gourmet.

finding oneself

2005-12-06T16:31:00.000+08:00

by Rev. Lester Maramara, SJ

Sisyphus pushes the rock up the mountain;
I push it down.
Not that I wish to.
But the burden of the cargo that
uncomfortably balances itself on my shoulder
covers my eyes with cold sweat
creating crevices of burn and blood.
Yet, if I am to be left free
I will go beyond where Sisyphus had not reached:
fly to the top of the heavens
rocket-fast, charging the winds
with all desire and will
carrying with me the burden
I wish not to bear but decided.
My heart burns wild in frenzy
as I focus my gaze on the Star
accompanying me anywhere I go
seducing me to climb the mountain of my sweet doom
giving me stronger wings to further fly.
For my heart finds its rest
in the constant climbing and flying.