Balak::: Suwat Alang Kang Berting

Jona Branzuela Bering

*draft

Ting,

Ayaw nalang ko paabota. Nasaag nako sa akong mga pangandoy, ug lisod na ang pagpangita sa dalan paingon kanimo. nahimo na kining libon, lasang. ang ilado kaayong dalan sa akong pagbati kaniadto, nahanaw na, natabunan sa mga nagpangamay nga paglaom nga makakitag, makahikap og snow. gikapoy nakog puyo sa gamay natong baryo, ting. Kapoy sigeg ugmag sa yuta nga di ato. Naay nagtudlo nako og chat diri sa 7. Naay koy nakit-ang Kano nga ganahan kaayo sa akong kutis nga morag kolor sa kugal nga sambag. Ingon siya, Ting, he like me. He want marry me. And he bring to America. Maong kon papilion ko sa libong dan ug sa hiway, sa hiway nalang ko, Ting. Naa pay purohan maka-SUB ko. By way, di na ka kinahanglang magtagu-tago padung sa balay nila ni Celia. Open it and show love to she. Kahibaw na sila Nanay ug Tatay sa akong desisyon. Ug lipay kaayo sila.

Ang imong ex-gf,

Sinds (Sinda)

Poetry::: The Other Tiger

The Other Tiger by Jorge Luis Borges

A tiger comes to mind. The twilight here
Exalts the vast and busy Library
And seems to set the bookshelves back in gloom;
Innocent, ruthless, bloodstained, sleek
It wanders through its forest and its day
Printing a track along the muddy banks
Of sluggish streams whose names it does not know
(In its world there are no names or past
Or time to come, only the vivid now)
And makes its way across wild distances
Sniffing the braided labyrinth of smells
And in the wind picking the smell of dawn
And tantalizing scent of grazing deer;
Among the bamboo's slanting stripes I glimpse
The tiger's stripes and sense the bony frame
Under the splendid, quivering cover of skin.
Curving oceans and the planet's wastes keep us
Apart in vain; from here in a house far off
In South America I dream of you,
Track you, O tiger of the Ganges' banks.

It strikes me now as evening fills my soul
That the tiger addressed in my poem
Is a shadowy beast, a tiger of symbols
And scraps picked up at random out of books,
A string of labored tropes that have no life,
And not the fated tiger, the deadly jewel
That under sun or stars or changing moon
Goes on in Bengal or Sumatra fulfilling
Its rounds of love and indolence and death.
To the tiger of symbols I hold opposed
The one that's real, the one whose blood runs hot
As it cuts down a herd of buffaloes,
And that today, this August third, nineteen
Fifty-nine, throws its shadow on the grass;
But by the act of giving it a name,
By trying to fix the limits of its world,
It becomes a fiction not a living beast,
Not a tiger out roaming the wilds of earth.

We'll hunt for a third tiger now, but like
The others this one too will be a form
Of what I dream, a structure of words, and not
The flesh and one tiger that beyond all myths
Paces the earth. I know these things quite well,
Yet nonetheless some force keeps driving me
In this vague, unreasonable, and ancient quest,
And I go on pursuing through the hours
Another tiger, the beast not found in verse.

I::: Commemorating my Independence

Pro:

Freedom is nothing but a chance to be better.
—Albert Camus

***

Pros and Cons (m-w.com):

Main Entry:

com·mem·o·rate

Pronunciation:

\kə-ˈme-mə-ˌrāt\

Function:

transitive verb

Inflected Form(s):

com·mem·o·rat·ed; com·mem·o·rat·ing

Etymology:

Latin commemoratus, past participle of commemorare, from com- + memorare to remind of, from memor mindful — more at memory

Date:

1599

1 : to call to remembrance 2 : to mark by some ceremony or observation : observe <commemorate an anniversary> 3 : to serve as a memorial of commemorates the battle>

***

At Half Past Three, a Single Bird
by Emily Dickinson

At Half past Three, a single Bird
Unto a silent Sky
Propounded but a single term
Of cautious melody.

At Half past Four, Experiment
Had subjugated test
And lo, Her silver Principle
Supplanted all the rest.

At Half past Seven, Element
Nor Implement, be seen --
And Place was where the Presence was
Circumference between.

***

Cons:

Doubting.

Still doubting.

Panawagan: Sa Batch 2009

Dali, dayon mu sa kalasangan
sa pagpanimpad. Pero pasidan-an
tamo daan, dili sayon ang dan.
Kon makasugat mug nagbansiwag
nga kahoy sa taliwala sa inyong agi-anan,
naa ra na ninyo kon inyong talikdan,
o inyong lakangan. Kon mapadol mu
sa bagon, naa ra sad na ninyo
kon inyong putlon o pasakdan.
***

Basta, mga ga, sa akong mga manghod sa Normal, congrats, nakalusot namo sa traffic kaayong highway. Naabot na ang panahon para sa tinuod nga biyahe. :)

Quoting: Two Js and One Unknown

Laugh. Laugh out loud. And laugh often. And when circumstances call for silence, turn your laugh into a smile.
—Anonymous

Sentimentality, the ostentatious parading of excessive and spurious emotion, is the mark of dishonesty, the inability to feel; the wet eyes of the sentimentalist betray his aversion to experience, his fear of life, his arid heart; and it is always, therefore, the signal of secret and violent inhumanity, the mask of cruelty
—James Baldwin, "Everybody's Protest Novel"



for the one
who
standing in the sun
does not cast a shadow
—June Jordan, I Was Looking at the Ceiling and then I Saw the Sky