SUTURES

TOKHANG CENTO

CENTO NG ULAN

 

CENTO NG PAGTUKLAS

paano ba ang tawa ng isang ina
Ang unan at sapin ay nagkalat
Sa magdamag ng balisa’t sikip ng dibdib

wala naman itong oxygen
dahil sa hinarangang entrada
nagbibigkis sa tinig na sintahimik

ng mapa. Kulimlim, walang kibit
you chose this life
Like a little crystal between the toes, being playful

with locations, where to hide
Aligaga kong tinatahak ang bawat landas
Bumubulong

Kahit sirang-sira ang langit

__________________________ 

mula sa mga linya nina Jennylyn De Ocampo Asendido, Marvin Marquez, Harold Fiesta, Nichael Lumakang Conje, Lean Borlongan, Ron Atilano, CJ Peradilla, Maryo Domingo, Maria Ella Betos, Homer B. Novicio, Steven Claude Tubo, Aris Remollino, at Dimple Famajilan

BOTANTE CENTO

“May meeting lang po kasama si Mayor”
ng nanunukling cash register:
“Botante ka ba?”

the voice still announcing, calling for them
“But mother, I just want to buy a fanty”
pero paralisado pa rin ito. Sa kagustuhan niyang

father, forgive us
Each stroke both intimate and disobeyed
at tunay ngang kainaman din

__________________________ 

mula sa mga linya nina Genevieve Aguinaldo, Aris Remollino, Francis Rey Arias Monteseña, Maryo Domingo, Homer B. Novicio, Ron Atilano, Lorelyn Arevalo, April Bewell, at CJ Peradilla

POETIKANG TAGNI-TAGNI

Ikaw ay isang ubas na binayaang kumulubot
Ikaw, kailangan mong maghilom
sa ilalim ng baliw na buwan

madulas na lunggating tinataludtod, tinitilad-tilad
for the darkness and feel
the hollowed-out bodies lined up in the morgue like animals

In a Station Hidden From the Metro
nakahambalang na't naghihintay sa pintuan
ang mga braso ng sasamba

Sa kaliwa, humihiwa ang tila sibat na liwanag
mula sa sanga. Noon lamang lumiwanag sa
ilang taong pinupog ng pagpapala

__________________________
mula sa mga linya nina Steven Claude Tubo, Redwin Dob, Dimple Famajilan, Harold Fiesta, Maryo Domingo, CJ Peradilla, Birth Guzman, Jennylyn De Ocampo Asendido, Aris Remollino, Glen Sales, Ron Atilano, at Pinky Aguinaldo

CENTO NG BUWAN

Ang magpaypay ng mahinang baga, 

ikinukubli ng ulan 

sa kawad ng koryente, 

 ang mga pingga’y nakabalandra 

basta maniwala na lang 

let the salt coat your tongue 

ti lubongna idi nagkupas. 

Pagpapakilala sa nakatalikod, namamaalam 

Namawis ang aking ilong sa hiya 

nilang mga walang karamay 

Titig na titig rin ang aking anak 

__________________________ 

mula sa mga linya nina Francis Rey Arias Monteseña, Redwin Dob, Ron Atilano, Jennylyn De Ocampo Asendido, Aris Remollino, CJ Peradilla, Dimple Famajilan, Harold Fiesta, Pinky Aguinaldo, Steven Claude Tubo, Glen Sales

CENTO NG SAKRIPISYO

Bago mo pa ipamalas ang iyong kabutihan 

ipakita ang tatag. Isang amang hindi lumuluha 

pinagpapagkit-pagkit ang tinahing pakpak 

para mag-ukay ng dumi gamit ang tabo 

tumimo ang ligaya’t panghing niyakap ang PT 

in secret, dirt fresh on your boots 

into the psalms of the afternoon sunrays 

Nakapinta rito gamit ang dugo 

sa malayo’y may isa pang anak na hindi sasali 

walang-hanggang 

Pakpak ng mga Zero sa himpapawid 

__________________________ 

mula sa mga linya nina Steven Claude Tubo, Francis Rey Arias Monteseña, Ron Atilano, Harold Fiesta, Jennylyn De Ocampo Asendido, CJ Peradilla, Mark Vincent Dela Cruz, Jovener Sotelo Soro, Pinky Aguinaldo, Aris Remollino, Glen Sales

Laban sa Labsong

Nitong a-25 ng Pebrero, sa halip na makiusyoso sa mga nagdidilawang liwasan, nag-FB kami ni Hani upang bisitahin ang tula ni Alexander Martin Remollino. Nakasama namin sa usapang ito sina Rogene, Tilde, at syempre, hindi pwedeng umabsent si Aris! Heto ang tula, at pagkatapos, ang naging palitan namin:

Sa Aking Panulat

Huwag sanang tulutan ng tadhana
na ako'y lisanin mo sa gitna ng digma.
Ikaw ang aking maso
sa pagpanday ng isang bayan
kung saan walang taong parang asong nakagapos
habang hinihimod ang paa ng kung sino,
kung saan ang mga tao
ay mga mulawing lahat at di mga kawayan.
Ngunit kung ang iuukit mo lamang sa papel
ay ang mga kahangalang iniluluwa ng mga bibig
ng mga nagpapapansin sa kanilang kasintahan o manliligaw,
mabuti pang ang mga kamay ko'y magkadurug-durog sa riles
o kaya'y tamaan ng isang libong lintik
upang ika'y di ko na mahawakan pa.

H— Interesting yung mga ganitong pagtula sa isang inanimate object (assuming lapis o bolpen o pluma) na parang may sarili itong pagpapasya. At ang lakas ng karakter pa nga nitong si panulat. Bukod sa desisyong mag-exist o lumisan, may tendency ding magsariling larga ("ngunit kung ang iuukit mo"). Pero interesting lalo na panimula yung "huwag sanang tulutan ng tadhana." Parang may nase-sense akong similar effect ng "so much depends upon" ni WCW na pagse-set ng parameters kung paano tatratuhin ang tula at pag-aatas ng bigat, this time, ang object ay panulat. Pero ang kaibahan dito, ang "tadhana" bilang powerful na pwersa ay hindi lang ina-acknowledge kundi may, for lack of a term, passive na pagtutol sa tonong prayer pa. Mas interesting, sa bandang huli ay may in-invoke ulit na pwersa pero opensiba/agresibo naman ang prayer, "tamaan ng isang libong lintik". Ang nakakalito, ito ba ay prayer sa iisang tadhana o ito ba ay pagbubuyo sa digmaan ng dalawang magkaiba at magkataliwas na pwersa?

R— Isa sa pinakapaborito kong tula ni Alexander Martin Remollino. Kung bakit nariyan lagi ang buhay na kontradiksyon ng mga mulat na makata - sa pagpapakalunod sa kagustuhang magsulat na lamang at hindi na makisangkot. 'Yung nagpapatuloy dapat na dialektikong relasyon ng craft at ng craftsmen, the former being the immortal piece of the literary world, and the latter being the mortal, vulnerable being of the material universe prone to the mundane existence of words without a greater purpose. The poem speaks volumes and volumes of how we decide each day to be this way. 'Nung una kong nabasa 'tong tulang 'to parang may deja vu effect sakin - 'yung "you get the feeling that you've known this feeling all along". Parang labsong na alam na alam mo na ang himig pero unang beses mo pa lang narinig. Lalo na 'yung "kahit mawalan na ko ng kamay" mode. Ang tindi 'nung imagery, 'nung struggle to be selfless. Parang titser na imbes na tenga ang piningot ay nangurot ng dibdib, nanguha ng stick ng ratan at namalo ng mga malilikot na daliri ng pagkabatang makata.

D— at! dahil nabanggit ang labsong (hehe), gusto kong tutukan yung act/consequence na ito: if foolish hearts ang tula then (a) railroad finger mash or (b) 1000 bolts of lightning! mas willful ang una, parang alam mong yung makata mismo ang maglalatag ng kamay sa riles. mas industriyal din ang hubog (locomotive), teknolohiya. yung ikalawa ay kalikasan, oo, pero may dalawang shades. una, yung 'tadhana'-type nga na nasabi, dahil hindi natural ang kilos ng lintik dito, lightning doesn't strike 2x pero dito, boom x 1000 sa iisang bahagi ng katawan. ikalawa, may hindi maiiwasang alusyon sa liyab ng 1000 sulo

H— Pinagsama-sama sa tula: artifacts ng industriya + kalikasan vs. tao at teknolohiya + sort of gore + romantic not romantic peg = ang steampunk ng imahe!

T— ang tulang ito, ka-tema ng isang kanta ng Datu's Tribe. yung, Hindi ko kayang kumanta ng *samting* na labsong at pangsyota." anyway, ang nasa top agad ng aking head, immediate after mabasa ang tula ay WILL. may will ang makata na gumow against nung tadhana, dahil nais niyang matanganan ang ideyal na maso---yong hindi labidabi shit. may will din ang makatang ipaubaya na lamang sa pwersang tulad ng lintik ang labidabi na maso, dahil siya, bilang makata, hindi niya kayang talikuran ang panulaan. iba, outside pwersa, ang dapat umutas, sakaling maging labidabi ang maso. naalala ko [sori personal, mapupunta sa akin], naisip ko noon, brain fart lang noong kid pa ako: pag nabaliw ako o naging reaksyunaryo, sana patayin na lang ako ng mga tao dahil yun ang nararapat.

A— Tagal na n'yan, a. 2001, lumabas sa v5.0 ng Tinig.com. Isa rin sa pinakaunang seryosong tulang sinulat n'ya. Pamagat din sana ng libro niya ng mga tula na mula 2005 hanggang taong kasalukuyan e naipit sa limbo sanhi ng iba't ibang hindi maipaliwanag na dahilan.

D— Tilde, pero dapat sa riles ng MRT ka dudurugin, sang-ayon sa tula. Kasama ng mga karerista't makasarili ang poetics! Sabi ni Aris (Hi Aris!), 2001 pa ito at kung gayo'y hindi naman pala patutsada sa pagkober ni Bamboo ("at di mga kawayan") ng "Tatsulok"

T— ang messy! pero oks lang, ang metal!

On Spurious Solidarity

This day is dedicated to Quezon, the recognized "Ama ng Wika" or father of the Filipino language. I remember this because back in my elementary days, we had "Linggo ng Wika," a whole week with essay-writing contests, declamation jousts, and morning assembly speeches by Filipino teachers. Most of all, the fines were suspended and we could speak in Tagalog, my beloved mother tongue, without paying a peso for every word we didn't deliver in English.

Although, I don't want to dedicate this piece to Quezon, I'd love to write more about language. I hope my readers will forgive a few more meta discussions, more writing about writing.

The previous article notwithstanding, I confess I've trimmed down on the use of the theoretical "Man." Sometimes, the tendency of presenting and encountering the construct is the feel of abstractness, of imagining the collective embodied as an individual, homogenous throughout its parts.

Using "she" as the pronoun at least removes the phallus from the embodiment or repopulates the embodiment with the identities of the marginalized genders. One could see that it is also more faithful since the population is quantitatively more female.

But I still find the theoretical man construct a bit intrusive to the process of stimulating critical thought. Upon viewing the embodiment floating above us, sometimes our minds also fly with it and leave on the ground the diversities and contradictions inherent in humanity.

After my thesis, I've found that I lean more on the use of "we," "us," and "ours" and (since the the work was entirely in Filipino) "tayo," "atin," and "natin." At least here, the reader is free to check if the statement really applies to her and her own experience.

The guiding text for the thesis was Norman Fairclough's seminal work entitled "Language and Power." Here, he encourages the researcher and writer to put themselves in their work. I agree that the scientists' traditional omission of the "I" in their technical ouevres is questionable. I don't think they need to gloss over the fact that there was a human being behind their empirical presentations for the sake of appearing more "objective."

Nope. I'd like to see more of those I-me-mines, especially so that the accent on responsibility for findings could be more audible. I believe this is especially necessary in the social sciences where the readers must be made aware of where the author is coming from.

After warning the reader that he will write in the first person, Fariclough proceeds to discuss his use of "we." Here's a clipping from his note on style:

"...I have operated with an image of the reader as not just someone to whom I am telling things (though sometimes I am!), but also as a partner in a collaborative venture. This is why I have sometimes used the pronoun 'we' inclusively, to refer to the reader and myself. But... this use of 'we' can be manipulative; it can claim spurious solidarity, for instance when a politician uses it to convince people that she is 'one of them'. I hope that readers will not feel similarly dragooned into partnership: obviously, some readers will not see themselves as partners... but... I have found it easier to write as if they did."

I guess that's a mouthful. In typing that, an eyebrow reflexively cocked with Fairclough's use of 'she' as a pronoun for the theoretical politician. Then, remembering recent speeches especially of the state-of-the-nation variety, a naughty grin followed.

Not Elsewhere

Tinig's volumes 17 and 18 are out. I've got SONA articles left and right, but I'm thinking of submitting literary pieces for a change. Jol, I never thought I'd say this but I miss the Adarna workshops.

I miss too, the man behind the finer points of my thesis, Prof. Monico Atienza. I make sure not too mention him too much because I dread to disgrace his legacy. But that stricture can't be allowed here because he lent me his Fairclough and Mao. Also, I want to direct friends to his poem in the same way that Alex tipped me in the forums.

Thank you Sir Monico, for believing in my work and still signing the recommendation to the Asian Center despite every inconvenience. It is my honor that you peruse of my thesis to instruct your classes, while all errata there reflected my stubborn affront to your diligence in evaluating it. Someday, maybe, I will catch up with it and teach in my own fashion.

Still Not Elsewhere

Well, workers, students, and inhabitants of Quezon City, have a nice day! I'm going there this afternoon to claim some loose pages I had bound at the university shopping center. And of course, I'll meet my angas team mates there to gather around the birthday kantogirl!