ANG SABI NG BULAG NA UMIIBIG
Madalas ko siyang angkinin
sa tulong ng ilaw at araw
Ang mga sandali ng paglindol
kahit saan dinadala-dala
hanggang sa panaginip.
Nang maglaho ang liwanag
doon ko lang siya nakilala
nalamang hindi siya akin.
Mabuti lang ang ganito
Anong halaga ang makita
ang nalalaman ko na sa gitna
ng nakasisilaw, nakabibighani,
hindi matatanggihang alindog
na sa paglaon ay kumukupas.
Matagal na rin kami daig
ang tinitingalang paris
ng bituin sa telenobela.
Hindi pa natatatabunan ng hit song
ang matagal na naming theme song
Hindi man kami nagfafacebook o youtube
Pero hindi salat ang aming kamay, bibig, tainga
Mas nadarama, mas magkakilala
Mag-asawang di nagkikita.
© Angelo B. Ancheta
PAG-AKAY NG BULAG SA BULAG
Ano ba itong buhay
kung awas ng sindak
Wala nang pasyang tumindig
sa kabila ng pagsagpak
Wala nang pasyang mapanatag
sa kinasasapnan ng mga paa,
Ni hipuin ang mga tiklap na kalyo
ng palad at kaluluwa.
Titikod-tikod kang naglalakbay
tungo sa kalagutan ng hininga
Sa himig ng matamlay
na tawag ng Maglawa
Kahit sandali lang paisano,
Iya’y pagbulay-bulayan
Baka isa ka lamang kabig
nitong pinagkaitan ng kamalayan.
© Roselier Levi Azarcon
Noise of Love
Love has taken away its lull over me
I don’t smell coffee anymore
Now I feel the cool table top.
The children who swum inside my womb
When he looked into my eyes
Are aborted by time.
Words were woven well around me
He was a weaver I must tell
He weaved emotions, weaved words and weaved himself around my soul
Thread by thread, fold by fold rolled my heart in his fingers and pricked me with the crochet of his love and weaved something appreciable.
He kissed me for his private collection,
And chopped my meat, slow
Layer by layer like a chef, showing the vibrant
Red, white, colourful meat.
So much in love was he, with me, that
He never let me say things.
He just did them coz he knew what I wanted...
I wanted love, and he loved me
He, a part-time lover.
He, a punctual lover
Adjustable, caring like a steward of a suite
A god fearing
Proud parents’ son.
A politician.
When I frowned at his words
He appreciated my arched brows
And told that I am beautiful, more
Than his mother.
A sport he excelled was eyes versus words.
But I trusted my trust
I was in utopia
The engineer was he.
He was my child
And I was his toy.
Different love, different joy
Paulo, I must say, he used you well
‘Soulmate’
‘Symbols’
‘Signs’
All were defined and understood.
Shall I believe what you write, Paulo
Or u lie.
How can you lie for 350 pages,
Can one?
I don’t think they exist
As trance cannot be continued for life
You need to come back to the pre-written
And break the mirage of words
They are hard, crystal, fragile...
Please don’t handle with care.
I have lost a philosophy, a concept
A word.
But
I am hopeful like Ruth
And want to create a new
And overcome the writers’ block.
Tie the gun
There’s a mountain, ochre, dusty, rocky burns like sun.
Big boulders fall rolling down
Over the soldiers
And bullets are popping out of their gun
They are multi-taskers.
Defining gun, to a white bird
Defining peace to a white bird
The bird is deaf
The bird is blind
It only knows to fly.
© Vijaya Kandpal, India
The Breath of Boreas
The chills of nervousness are immanent
I feel my bones shake as my neck loses control
My heart burns like the flame of a lamp searing the filament
The cobwebs in my brain thicken to my soul
At times I like this place, I never want to leave
Others I feel the darkness consume the rich tapestry that rests on the floor
The yellows, reds and blues pass, there’s no reprieve
The room could be latched, internal dawn masks the door
I ache with a piercing anguish
As the aroma turns to a penetrating frost
My muscles ice over in languish
For others pay no heed, I observe the markings of the lost
A product of your society, filled with lament
Learning never to be truthful and passing in deceit
Deceit of myself, the worst kind of contempt
But through a perplexed lens it outlines me complete
Or a sketch of a boy in an older vessel
The frame of a lost vanity
Where did I drop this misplaced self esteem I question?
I left it, a long time ago in a place where lies my innocence and my sanity.
© Ryan Chakravarty, UK
LITTLE ANGELS
Listen to a door:
Love has gotten into Hell
Sins of the Rainbow¡
AND I WONDER
I want to see You smoking laughing
Smoking dancing all around
Inside my head
And I wonder.
Each puff each an Is
Each space-scape for human Being.
Haul the smokes
Have one’s heart in one’s Porro
I mean
And I wonder.
I’m barking up the wrong tree¡:
Grass is listen & talking
As the news possible consciousness
Of the Earth.
The interesting thing
About natural Science
Is that the Grass
Is the centre of the attention
Not another manipulation of it.
Not that anybody
Got anything wrong
But I think the Wo/Man
May have a point.
Summits of Passion, Sinsemilla Marijuana
From the Otto Peep.
We are of a Time-Smoking
Wherein all-species has been joined
Coming to Act
With the necessities of all the living
With the multiple voices-human
Voices-animal
Voices-plant
Voice- life of Earth.
Who’s Earth?
I am the Green of Love.
© Daniel de Cullá
Poet & Writer. Painter & Photographer. Member of the Spanish Writers Association. Founder and Editor of the reviews of BodyArt, Art and Culture GALLO TRICOLOR, and ROBESPIERRE. He participates in Cultural Acts of Theatre and Performance. He’s living between Burgos, Madrid and North Hollywood.
Tercets—Quartets—Quintets
(haiku on the same subject in three or more languages)
beautiful sunset
how well I can grasp the world
huddled against you
un bel tramonto
io capirò il mondo
stretta contro te
au coucher de soleil
je comprendrai le monde
blottie contre toi
bello atardecer
comprenderé il mundo a ti
apretujada
~~~**~~~
hands on my body
that know what they are doing:
making the sparks fly
Hände die wissen
was sie tun auf meiner Haut:
die Funken sprühen
manos saben lo
que hacer sobre mi piel:
chispas volando
le tue mani sul
corpo: che sanno fare
volar scintille
~~~**~~~
Vivaldi strings I
suddenly hear: I feel my
heart is made of strings
ascolto corde
di Vivaldi: sento il cuor
fatto di corde
Vivaldi de cuerdas:
siento el corazón mío
hecho de cuerdas
Saitenklänge von
Vivaldi: jetzt ist mein Herz
aus lauter Saiten
~~~**~~
morning bird song
wondering what this day might
bring: you my joy
l'alba cinguetta
giornata che porterà
te gioia mia
l'aube gazouille
une journée indécise
tu viendras ma joie
Zwitschern am Morgen
was der Tag nur bringen mag
dich meine Freude
~~~**~~~
I see you smiling
you knock at my door: I dream
of your arrival
con un sorriso
busserai alla porta:
ti sogno arrivar
tocarías en
la puerta sonriéndome:
pero es un sueño
avec un sourire
tu cognerais à ma porte:
tu arrives en rêve
~~~**~~~
refusing to fall
an autumn leaf twirls skyward:
butterfly rising
foglia d’autunno
non vuol cadere: vola
farfalla al cielo
ein Herbstblatt das nicht
fallen will: Schmetterling fliegt
taumelnd gen Himmel
la feuille d’automne
qui ne veut pas tomber: vole
papillon au ciel
hoja de otoño
rehusa caer: vuela al
cielo mariposa
~~~**~~~
dictionary of
the soul where we find serene
kisses between words
dizionario dell’
anima dove troviam
baci fra i verbi
dictionnaire de l’âme
où entre les mots nous trouvons
de jolies étreintes
im Wörterbuch der
Seele zwischen Verben gibts
Küsse zu naschen
~~~**~~~
night is arriving
and here floating in this void
arduous desire
llega la noche
flotando en el vacío
arduo deseo
la notte arriva
galleggiando nel vuoto
un’ardua voglia
la nuit est arrivée
et dans ce grand vide flotte
un désir ardent
~~~**~~~
fra le tue righe (about an email from a dear person)
--sembran veneziana--
tu mi sorridi
zwischen den Zeilen
--wie durch eine Jalousie--
lächelst du mir zu
between lines you write
--as if through Venetian blinds--
I see you smiling
voilà entre lignes
--qui font une jalousie--
toi qui me souris
entre líneas
--como tras persianas tú--
me estás sonriendo
~~**~~
abre la mañana
sus bordes de luz, en el
viento pájaros
the morning opens
its borders of light, birds are
floating in the wind
la matinée ouvre
ses bords de lumière, au vent
des ailes d’oiseaux
apre il mattino
suoi confini di luce,
uccelli al vento
der Morgen öffnet
lichtvolle Pforten, im Wind
schwirren die Vögel
~~**~~
imagine our two
bodies without walls between
floating and flowing
denk dir wir beide
kein Kontinent und kein Meer
ganz auf Hautfühlung
denk dir wir beide
Entfernungen zerschmelzen
nur wir umschlungen
denk dir wir beide
ohne Wände dazwischen
fließende Körper
~~**~~
ich umarme dich
flüchte mich in die offnen
Arme der Schöpfung
abbracciandoti
sono in braccia aperte del
la creazione
by embracing you
I flee into the open
arms of creation
abrazándote
hallo abiertos los brazos
de la creación
je suis dans tes bras
je suis dans les bras ouverts
de la création
~~**~~
un soffio d’aria
nelle tende: la casa
sa che tu vieni
un souffle de vent
dans les rideaux: la maison
sait que tu viendras
Hauch einer Brise
in den Vorhängen: das Haus
weiβ du kommst gewiss
a light breath of air
sways my curtains: the house seems
to know you’re coming
How
How a hidden smile
yours
becomes a reason to exist
how a sudden laugh
ours
becomes a reason in the world
how caresses
carry into a dream world
where the stars are toys
and undeterred
we play at happiness
A Life
the wind is patient
and so are the trees
the river is patient
and so is the sky
my fig tree is patient
and so the whole garden
your smile is patient
and so are my eyes
music is patient
and so is death
may she grant us first
a life of love
in happiness
Chambers
All is room
all is chamber
the heart
a chamber
and so most organs
like fish in
a bodily sea
the thalamus
of the brain
means “room”
the body
a chamber
of the soul
whatever that is
wherever
a nautilus
miraculous
of faceted chambers
Even the steam engine
is a chamber
with an escape valve
Wrapped Up
You open your arms
and laugh with your eyes
you touch me
and I hug you
how beautiful it is
to do theater together
You hug me
I whisper in your ear
I smile when it tickles
and you in a gesture
shake it off like a fly
how beautiful it is
to do theater together
You smile
I smile about your smile
you kiss me deep
I kiss your kisses
swarms of kisses
that go down
ever deeper
our wrapped-up
bodies
how beautiful it is
to be alive
in your arms
On that Day
This is how the sky
was on that day
not long ago
to some who saw it
or who didn’t see
This is how beauty
Just lay there
by the wayside
to some who saw it
or who didn’t see
Conchs from the sea
waves roaring inside
offer their beauty
to some who see it
or who don’t see
© Ute Margaret Saine
a poet who grew up in postwar Germany. After a PhD from Yale in French and Spanish, she moved to California, where she has been writing poetry, criticism and translating other poets. She is the past president of PEN Orange County and has written many letters for writers harassed or jailed worldwide. She is an editor of the “California Poetry Quarterly.” Her books are “Bodyscapes” (1995); “Words of Art” (2005); “Ungeschicktes Kind” (Awkward Child, to be published), and “The Five Senses: 100 Love Poems in Alphabetical Order” (tbp). She is now working on haiku in several languages, a novel and short stories, and as always, writing and translating poetry.
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