Poetry anyone?

[Graecia]

---

i refuse to heed to my hearts voice
And try to sheild it from being hurt again
i refuse to see your sparkling eyes
because i know with this i cannot gain
although i know my heart beats you
and I cant breath my life feels blue
I cant forget your memory
Your foolish grins and company
My mind says this love is not for us
But i cant resist to take the bus
To be with you no matter what they say
Because like the sun you are my ray

[nailworms]

A Song
By: Jay Dilan

I can hear the empty wind
And feel it passed me swiftly
I'm searching for a sign
And the night became a vast ocean

Little by Little an image of a beautiful maiden
in an ancient world
reminds me of a song that i have heard before
A song of love, hate, and despair
of paradise islands, mountains and seas
lost in the imagination of man

her image billowing in a cascade of moonlight
drifted by the wind
a wind with tune and melody
that travels in a great wave
And feeds the soul of every man
A Song...

[glassjawed_grrl]

here is one of the most beautiful poems ever written:

POETRY
by~ PABLO NERUDA
And it was at that age...Poetry arrived
in search of me. I don't know, I don't know where
it came from, from winter or a river.
I don't know how or when,
no, they were not voices, they were not
words, nor silence,
but from a street I was summoned,
from the branches of night,
abruptly from the others,
among violent fires
or returning alone,
there I was without a face
and it touched me.

I did not know what to say, my mouth
had no way
with names
my eyes were blind,
and something started in my soul,
fever or forgotten wings,
and I made my own way,
deciphering
that fire
and I wrote the first faint line,
faint, without substance, pure
nonsense,
pure wisdom
of someone who knows nothing,
and suddenly I saw
the heavens
unfastened
and open,
planets,
palpitating planations,
shadow perforated,
riddled
with arrows, fire and flowers,
the winding night, the universe.

And I, infinitesmal being,
drunk with the great starry
void,
likeness, image of
mystery,
I felt myself a pure part
of the abyss,
I wheeled with the stars,
my heart broke free on the open sky.

[karamazov]

[somewhere i have never travelled]


somewhere i have never travelled,gladly beyond
any experience,your eyes have their silence:
in your most frail gesture are things which enclose me,
or which i cannot touch because they are too near

your slightest look easily will unclose me
though i have closed myself as fingers,
you open always petal by petal myself as Spring opens
(touching skilfully,mysteriously) her first rose

or if your wish be to close me,i and
my life will shut very beautifully, suddenly,
as when the heart of this flower imagines
the snow carefully everywhere descending;

nothing which we are to perceive in this world equals
the power of your intense fragility: whose texture
compels me with the color of its countries,
rendering death and forever with each breathing

(i do not know what it is about you that closes
and opens; only something in me understands
the voice of your eyes is deeper than all roses)
nobody,not even the rain, has such small hands

[kyuusai]

youre visage lure me,
i cant take my eyes off you.
when your near at hand,
you sheathe me from solitude.

heed me utter,
this words are for you.
Je vous aime,
Je vous aime.

[mimsnav]

A Woman's Question - Lena Lathrop

Do you know you have asked for the costliest thing
ever made by the Hand above?
A woman's heart, and a woman's life---
and a woman's wonderful love.

Do you know you have asked for this priceless thing
as a child might ask for a toy?
Demanding what others have deed to win,
with the reckless dash of a boy.

You have written my lesson of duty out,
Manlike, you have questioned me.
Now stand at the bars of my woman's soul
until i shall question thee.
You require your mutton shall always be hot,
your socks & your shirt be whole;
I require your heart be true as God's stars
and as pure as His heaven your soul.

You require a cook for your mutton & beef,
I require a far greater thing;
A seamstress your're wanting for socks & shirts ----
I look for a man & a King
A King for the beautiful realm called HOME,
And a man that his Maker, God,
shall look upon as He did on the first
and say: "It is very good"

I am fair & young, but the rose may fade
From this soft young cheek one day;
Will you love me then 'mid the falling leaves,
as you did 'mong the blossoms of May?

Is your heart an ocean so strong & true,
I may launch my all on its side?
A loving woman finds heaven or hell
on the day she is made a bride.

I require all things that are grand & true,
All things that a man should be;
If you give this all, I would stake my life
To be all you demand of me.

If you cannot be this, a laundress and cook
You can hire & little to pay,
But a woman's heart & a woman's life
are not to be won that way.

[splendid moonlight]

[somewhere i have never travelled]


somewhere i have never travelled,gladly beyond
any experience,your eyes have their silence:
in your most frail gesture are things which enclose me,
or which i cannot touch because they are too near

your slightest look easily will unclose me
though i have closed myself as fingers,
you open always petal by petal myself as Spring opens
(touching skilfully,mysteriously) her first rose

or if your wish be to close me,i and
my life will shut very beautifully, suddenly,
as when the heart of this flower imagines
the snow carefully everywhere descending;

nothing which we are to perceive in this world equals
the power of your intense fragility: whose texture
compels me with the color of its countries,
rendering death and forever with each breathing

(i do not know what it is about you that closes
and opens; only something in me understands
the voice of your eyes is deeper than all roses)
nobody,not even the rain, has such small hands

ah, i love this one.

[JoRed]

Mga tula ng isang migrante mula sa Saudi Arabia

Ni Noel Malicdem
Posted by Bulatlat





OFW* sa gitna ng disyerto



Bayani kung ituring kami ng gobyerno

Wala naman magawa kapag kami’y inaabuso

Baka masira daw relasyon sa bansang kinalalagyan ko

Magtiis na lang hanggang matapos kontrata ko.



Mayroon nga tayong konsulado

Mga nakatalaga naman dito mga abusado

Walang pakialam kung ano kalagayan mo

Baka mas malala pa kapag napadpad ka rito.



Isa lang akong saksi buhay dito sa disyerto

Na kung tawagin lupa ng pera piraso

Dahil kung hindi huli limang buwang walang sweldo

Walang pakialam magutom man ang pamilya mo.



Tama na sa akin ang tawaging OFW

Na umalis ng bayan para sa kinabukasan ng pamilya ko

Ang kaligayahan pansamantalang kinalimutan ko

Mapunta sa bansang lungkot ang karamay mo.



Di ko pinagsisihan ang pagpunta rito

Bahagi lang ito ng pakikibaka sa buhay ko

Hindi ang maging saksi sa mga mapagsamantalang politiko

Na lalo lang nagpapahirap pagnakaupo na sa puwesto.



Ang hiling lang namin tunay na pagbabago

Mabigyan pansin mga karaingan naming OFW

Dahil bahagi rin kami ng pag-unlad kahit kami’y malayo

Isigaw sa buong mundo, mabuhay and Pilipino!



* OFW – overseas Filipino worker





Nang si Juan, nangibang bayan



Nang si Juan nangibang bayan

Dala ang pangarap umahon sa kahirapan

Sa bansang iniwan wala nang kalutasan

Buhay na kinagisnan wala pa ring kaunlaran



Dumating si Juan sa ibang bayan

Sa akalang makakamtam ang kaginhawaan

Bagkus naging malubha pa ang naging kalagayan

Sa gitnang silangang hirap pala ang mararanasan



Ngunit di nawalan ng pag-asa si Juan

Kesa bumalik sa bayang walang maaasahan

Wala nang ginawa kundi ang mag-iringan

Masa ang ginagamit sa pansariling kapakanan



Kelan ka titigil Juan na mangibang bayan

Manatili na lang sa bayang sinilangan

Kapiling ang pamilya tumulong sa kaunlaran

Ibalik ang Pilipinas perlas ng silangan



Wala ng hihigit pa sa sakripisyo ni Juan

Padalang dolyar para umahon ekonomiya ng bayan

Di alintana mga pulitikong sakim sa kaban ng pamahalaan

Panlinlang sa masa sa susunod na halalan



Gising na kabayang Juan

Sa maling akala sa iyong kalagayan

Bumangon ka na baka ikaw ay maiwan

Sa panibagong bukas kapit bisig tayong makipagsapalaran



Isa lang ako sa mga Pilipinong Juan

Na nangarap mangibang bayan

Hindi dahil ang bayan ko’y iiwan

Kundi ang ipagmalaki lahing pilipino kahit saan maasahan!





Sa wari ko , bilang OFW



Isa lamang akong saksi sa mga nangyayari

Hirap at pasakit, puno ng pagsisisi

Walang magawa kundi ang manatili

Para sa pamilyang iniwan buhay ay mapabuti.



Ang paglisan sa bayan, kahirapan ang dahilan

Pamahalaang di magampanan mga pangako sa bayan

Mga politikong ang hangad lamang ay kaban ng yaman

Gamit ang masa para sa sariling kapakanan.



Sa bansang pinili, marami akong nasaksihan

Buhay at pakikibaka ng aking mga kabayan

Mayroong mapalad, ang iba’y sadlak sa kahirapan

Karamiha’y inaabuso at walang sweldo ng ilang buwan.



Marahil ay walang pinag-iba sa bansang kinalalagyan

Ang maging sunod-sunuran dahil ako’y isa lamang dayuhan

Sumunod sa sistemang huwad na kapayapaan

Mga mamamayang hangad din ay kalayaan.



Sa wari ko, tama lang ang naging desisyon ko

Dahil parehas lang naman ang lipunang kinalalagyan ko

Trabaho lang at konting sakripisyo

Limot na bayani, tunay na Pilipino!

=======

Noel Malicdem is a migrant worker who, in an email message to Bulatlat, said that he is not much of a poet but was prompted to write in Filipino about his ordeal.

[dropbox]

BLAH!

i know what you're thinking
it's not nothing
but it's a dirty thing
yes it's a dirty thing

you see, i can read your mind
so don't be afraid
come here and lay beside me
don't be afraid to see a gun

take it off, take it off
and i'll grasp it slowly
yes slowly and gently
oh..it's just so nice

so don't pretend next time
as if you're not fantasizing me
even during noon times
just tell me, do tell me.

[Musette du Coudray]

I have always love the works of Pablo Neruda. They're beautifully made, uniquely written. Blah blah...

Ode to the Book
translated by Nathaniel Tarn

When I close a book
I open life.
I hear
faltering cries
among harbours.
Copper ignots
slide down sand-pits
to Tocopilla.
Night time.
Among the islands
our ocean
throbs with fish,
touches the feet, the thighs,
the chalk ribs
of my country.
The whole of night
clings to its shores, by dawn
it wakes up singing
as if it had excited a guitar.

The ocean's surge is calling.
The wind
calls me
and Rodriguez calls,
and Jose Antonio--
I got a telegram
from the "Mine" Union
and the one I love
(whose name I won't let out)
expects me in Bucalemu.

No book has been able
to wrap me in paper,
to fill me up
with typography,
with heavenly imprints
or was ever able
to bind my eyes,
I come out of books to people orchards
with the hoarse family of my song,
to work the burning metals
or to eat smoked beef
by mountain firesides.
I love adventurous
books,
books of forest or snow,
depth or sky
but hate
the spider book
in which thought
has laid poisonous wires
to trap the juvenile
and circling fly.
Book, let me go.
I won't go clothed
in volumes,
I don't come out
of collected works,
my poems
have not eaten poems--
they devour
exciting happenings,
feed on rough weather,
and dig their food
out of earth and men.
I'm on my way
with dust in my shoes
free of mythology:
send books back to their shelves,
I'm going down into the streets.
I learned about life
from life itself,
love I learned in a single kiss
and could teach no one anything
except that I have lived
with something in common among men,
when fighting with them,
when saying all their say in my song.