Archive for Poems

Poetry Contribution: Unspoken

UNSPOKEN by Red S   Was I floating? When I saw you In a dream. Your face, your hair That disarming smile Still the same As years ago. The sands of time Blown away Surfacing feelings Hidden within. Unspoken emotions Of truths we feared And choose to bury in ourselves. Vividly I see On that moonlit night When we held our hands And gazed upon our faces When we walked away Leaving emotions stirring Within our hearts Forever left unspoken. Shared to IlocanoYork and penned by Red S, 2007


My thoughts were stolen Before they were words on my lips. How could that happen? Was it thievery, if it felt good?



Blood Today, dear Victoria , I bleed. My feelings are beyond any grief Old wounds still left unhealed Much more sore than before, it's sick. Scarlet blood flows freely, Like water rushing without a course. Carving new wounds, it hurts. Red blood gushes, to where, I don't know. Pain cuts deep in my memory In ugly crevices I've never seen Probing further, slowly stealing my verve I am bleeding badly, it kills. Blood, sweet Victoria, is life. Red, hot, warm, so alive. If my bleeding means I'm up Then blood, just flow out, I'd be glad. 2007, NYC

Poetry Contribution: iMessage

20140224-010053.jpg iMessage By I. Regalado i said, "you have to peel it off, strip to the bone, i want to see you naked" you said, "in your dreams" I said, "sure, but even my dreams wouldn't oblige" You were walking around with a pink umbrella, And it wasn't even raining. I pictured in my head thousands of black umbrellas, and, one of them was pink, underneath, one of them was you, walking the cobbled streets, of SOHO, like something from a film by Kurosawa, or a photoshopped photograph, the sound of Nolita Fairytale playing in the background (or was that a film that I have not seen?) I said, “I’m amazed at the randomness of our conversation. I feel some kind of fever coming. I have to fight it.” “It’s a song,” you said then you pointed to the wooden balcony. “Do you see it? Do you see us?” I asked. “I see you, us,” you answered. Meanwhile, our hands held each other, Our eyes stared at each other, Nothing to hide here, Everything known. “Me siento mejor,” la Niña sang through my iPhone, Yes I feel better, ya me siento mejor. Now I feel better. “Quiero quitarte la ropa!” “Si yo pudieras mover la manilla del reloj del tiempo” There is a scent here with me That isn’t mine. (I’ve walked that street with you before, Everyone should be jealous.) “Scent?” you asked. “Yes, it’s a woman’s scent, But it’s gone now.” Then my mind added, “Was it you?” Contributed by I. Regalado 20140224-010038.jpg

As I Looked Up the Sky

20140211-033011.jpg Athena and the Moon laughed tonight With keen wintry eyes they knew I hurled them searing torches Fire came back, my doom.

Three Poems for January

I return to them As I return to you That dream I never dreamed Or that missing picture in the fireplace mantle. These days are filled with a thousand things So many That the weight of memories bends itself towards forgetting. There is a door that let's things in--noise, music, images, smells; the smell of onions from the kitchen, family, the hand of a lover. It is horrible and beautiful--for a few moments everything is inevitable! You cannot stop it. There is no need to decide. Nothing will mark this passing No tender words will be uttered Stone will rest precariously on stone But none will stir The trees will stand stupefied A thousand limbs twisted In a pitiful embrace. And not even one bird Will sing Because they have gone.


Poerty Contribution: A Naivete’s Confession

A Naiveté’s Confession by Jo March One spring night of ‘07 I was at this club That’s aptly called Double Happiness Right down at the Lower East Side. On my way out the bathroom I met this amazingly drunk guy Then held his glass as he took his turn at the bowl. He thanked me for being very nice And asked my name with a sheepish smile I told him mine, and Michael he said he was. He had a face like this BH 90210 guy So tall, fine and cute even when doused. He fuelled my curiosity; I decided to close my eyes. ‘There’s not much like you from where I came from’. He said as he keenly groped me in the dark. ‘Never met someone from where you came from’, I hissed back. Michael and I came back holding hands. Both smashed and grinning like a Cheshire cat. Funny, I shocked all my friends with my impulsive act. It’s embarrassing what else I did that night, With too much tea martini running in my blood. Let me just admit I’ve been really, really bad. He got my number that I remembered right For he called the following morn to ask me out I firmly said NO for I was sober to realize These boys want nothing else but my girly warmth   written by Jo March 2007, NYC


Our contributor, Mark Martinez, is a Speech Communications graduate of UP Baguio. On his free time he writes prose and poetry in three languages: English, Tagalog and Ilocano. He is a freelance journalist and currently dabbles in photography. Ubing ak pay lang idi pimmanaw ni manang ko Napan jay Amerika ta pinitisyunan ni apong ko Narigat kano ditoy isu nga ijay nga agbirok ti trabaho Ijay na nga ikurri tay BS Nursing na nga kurso Imbati na tay lakay na nga isu met ti bayaw ko Maysa a tricycle driver tay naasawa ni manang ko Plinano da nga mapan met ijay ni manong Pilo Ngem madi met makaala-ala Visa tapno makasaruno Adda ti anak da nga lalaki ti timmao Dimmakkel tay kaanakak nga awan ti ina na nga mangisuro Disisaisen tay ubing, tattan ket bumaro Nasursuro nan ti arak, sigarilyo, ken naduma-duma pay a bisyo Ado ti nagbaliwen manipod di nag-abroad ni manang ko Ado met ti nasurutan nan nga madi tay piman a bayaw ko Awanen tay singpet nan nga naayatan da tatang ko Sugal, bulang, arak, babae-- napirdin ni bayaw ko Nakadanon kenni manang ko tay napasamak a kanito Nasaktan nakem na ta naanakan ni manong jay kabit na nga bisyo Atay baro na ket madin nga matukkol jay sara na nga timmubo Nakunsumisyon, nagsakit-- nagbalin a de-baterya tay puso ni manang ko Anyan a rigat ti sukat ti panagadayo Agpayso nga ado ti kwarta ngem ni lakay na met ket nagloko Dakes nga anak, napaturay a sakit ti ulo Nu agbalikbayan ni manang ko, madi nga agkonswelo Ado ti namnama di nakadanon California ni manang ko Naragsak isuna idi nga umiliw jay pamilya na nga binuo Limmabas ti mano a tawen nga bimmaliw; nangindulto Napukaw tay ragsak ken namnama, nasukatan ti sakit a pudno Maminsan nga nakatungtong ko ni manang ko Dinamag ko panagbiag na jay Amerika no kasano "Ayna, ading, tagabo nak ti amerikano, Caregiver ak ijay-- tagapakan, taga-ilo!"

Ag-Abroadak Kuma, Asawak

Our Ilocana contributor is a serious blogger, educator, and a graduate of the UP-Diliman's Department of English and Comparative Literature (DECL), a Center of Excellence in Literature and in the English Language in the Philippines. She writes in Tagalog, Ilocano and English.

The poem is a dialogue between a husband and wife that was mainly carried by text messenging. It shows conflicting views  with the wife offering a more conservative stance while the husband, inspired by a 'balikbayan friend', contemplates  working abroad for better opportunities. 

Agur-urayak kengka, simmangpet Iti “text” mo kenyak, Maka-abroad ak tu man met kuma asawak Dattuyak gayyem ko, naggapu idiay Dallas.   Mayat ngatan ti bumaknang Agay-ayab pay isuna idiay bistruan Naganas ngatan a maygatangak Kanayon a litson ti pamilyak nga awidan.   In-“reply” ko met:  Mayat dayta a arapaap Ngem ana ngatan ti lid-liday na nu haan agkakadwa? Mayaten a makaawid ka, nasalun-at, Naragsak tayo nga ag-iinnisturya.   Idi kuwan, nagsipngeten Kinnit ti lamok ti kadwa mi dagiti annak mo idiay ruaren Gasyan kami maturugen Idi simmangpet ka- napnek ka ti araken.   Ti abroad ket mayat, aglalo nu maysa a bakkat Ngem ti simple a biag, haan ko pay la isukat Nu laeng ti papanan na ti ado nga kuwarta ket kasta Ay haanen- nu agur-uray met latta ti pamilya.   Dimo ammo iti daras ko nga nangipalpas, sangwanan ti pag-pagay, arakup ti angin nga pariir a palamuyuten napnu ti init ken ayat ayti pagbadum kuma inton bigat nu rubwatak ti nagaget a rumaep nga asawak.   September 2011  

An Earnest Prayer

Below is a whimsical poem  about one's desperation at finding the proverbial 'right one'. Written in Long Island, New York almost five years ago, the poem captures the common complaint of women of this generation: there simply isn't one. However, desperation turns into plea as persona puts her ill fate in God's hand while just waiting --- a passive and slightly self-defeatist response cultivated and encouraged by religion.

I'm Not Searching, Just Waiting

For F., I., and V.  Dear God, is there someone for me? One good man who will truly love me To share with me all life's kindness And walk with through all the worlds' darkness. I really would want to know If he isn't born yet or has moved on. I earnestly pray he's just perfectly well So he can find me here someday. Is he tall, tanned and dishy? And has a big smile that'll pin me quick I wish he were a dancer that I never was, Together we'll sing songs that touch the heart. Does he smoke, drink and curse? Is he a gambler, bummer or a miser? Worse, he maybe a Casanova in disguise; Lord, I hope, wish, and pray that he's not! Will he be sweet, engaging and smart? With a wit that battles the wisest man I pray he is kind, delightful and couth A man, I know, will make me proud. I wonder how many girls he kissed. Or is he an artist, extrovert, or what may be? Does he love to read like I do? Oh how I wish he'd eat whatever I can cook! Is he now in great America? Or trail biking in beautiful Australia? Wherever he may be, this I know-- Someday I'll show him my Manila. My God, tell me do I know him? Is he Steve, John or William? Or the comely man I saw at the park? He can be anyone oh this is hard! Was he at my favorite park last night? Or will be at the corner grocery tonight? Oh my good Lord please show some signs, Let him find me quick before I expire. Amen. October 1, 2007_ Long Island