Showing posts from May, 2012

ARABY by James Joyce

ARABY by James Joyce
North Richmond Street, being blind, was a quiet street except at the hour when the Christian Brothers' School set the boys free. An uninhabited house of two storeys stood at the blind end, detached from its neighbours in a square ground. The other houses of the street, conscious of decent lives within them, gazed at one another with brown imperturbable faces.

The former tenant of our house, a priest, had died in the back drawing-room. Air, musty from having been long enclosed, hung in all the rooms, and the waste room behind the kitchen was littered with old useless papers. Among these I found a few paper-covered books, the pages of which were curled and damp: The Abbot, by Walter Scott, The Devout Communicant, and The Memoirs of Vidocq. I liked the last best because its leaves were yellow. The wild garden behind the house contained a central apple-tree and a few straggling bushes, under one of which I found the late tena…

A Fiction Story in Filipino: Takas

Ilang ulit kong tinangkang umalis.  Ilang ulit kong tinangkang lumimot.  Ilang ulit kong ipinanalanging maglaho.  Ilang ulit… Mahabang panahong pinatay ko ang aking pakiramdam at mabuhay sa paniniwalang pilit kong isiniksik sa aking malay.  Hindi na ako babalik… Kahapon, sinamba ko si Gabby.  Kahapon, buhay ko si Gabby. Kahapon. “Ano ba ang nangyayari sa iyo Ate Michelle,  mukhang maputla ka yata?”  tanong ni Aiko. “Wala.  Mayroon kasi akong mestruation ngayon.” “A gano’n ba?  ‘Kala ko may sakit ka.” Kung alam lamang ni Michelle ang tunay na dahilang kagagaling ko lamang sa doctor kasama si Gabby.  Katatapos ko lamang iniksyunan ng isang matabang karayom sa pigi.  May impeksyon daw ako sabi ng doktor.  Nakuha ko raw sa swimming pool.  Paano nangyari, ‘yon? E… Noong isang lingo ay kaarawan ni Gabby.  Ibinigay ko ang lahat sa akin kay Gabby para sa kanyang kaarawan.  Ang aking Oo, and aking pag-ibig, and aking pagtitiwala, and aking katawam, hawak sa kamay, halik… Sa parking lot ng Ari…

In Your Rogate

Before I go, let me tell you –

how much you mean to me and that,

I will miss you in the waters I will sail.

Equidistant to where we live -

it is the same water from one rain

and same drops falling from one sky.

I will miss you, miss you everyday

of the trek, of which we don’t know

when we’d touch hands again. I will

leave you with your apricots and plums

raisin and wafer, the spring for your

thirst, the falls for your bath. As you

wait for me, every new day in

solace, that foamy face of blue

and white blinking stars and rainbow

mouth, open with hope, remember -

how I touched your face, lived your gaze,

how I kissed your mouth, your tongue

oiled your hair, your hands – everything,

you wished for in my womb – white light

of grace loving God, O God, our God!

Nothing could be over, because

we are meant for each other.

As the stars and its constellations

amuse the earth, we couldn't draw

miracles, only live it, and

offer the harvest of the earth:

blooming flowers in the …

Air In Tanks

Air in Tanks


Free air is paid in tanks

sustaining the last lung of the earth,

seeking some more hours to live here,

forward the trek.

Life is short like

the fire in the wick.

As nature bestows to others

it takes back in bulk.

Beautiful space stark as

meteors, heat, and ice -

Scent of a baby,

fragrant as dew,

cuddling as a lover.

The rage is poison

from nuclear mess.

So the air is paid in tanks

for some more hours to live here.

I Wrote Fiction: RoseVoc2


Goodbye Dear Grandmother

Goodbye Dear Grandmother

When I was younger, I thought you would never die

I thought you were an immortal

You were wonderfully healthy

You were morally good

You were a virtuous woman, always in the mood.

Once I asked you, “Why do people work? ”

And then you answered, “Because to live is to work! ”

Then I said, “Life is tough, we need to stop and rest.”

“No! ” She told me, “Life is beautiful; it is a test.”

And now you lay down

Destined for a peaceful town

“To live is to work… To die is to rest.”

Goodbye Grandmother,

Goodbye for now.

/rosalinda flores martinez

also on / one of my oldest poems;rosevoc2

In May 2012: Our Prayers Like a French Kiss / RoseVoc2

God, Let Your Holy Spirit Be In Us

How everyone worries

With all that happens now -

How like rags we kiss the ground

How like water we would flow

And unstopping, lend our thoughts of kindness.

And because we're all imperfect, and we want to help,

Our prayers and good wishes sent to One God unite

Like a French kiss, like humans do, full of passion.

Maybe, we are serious

Maybe, we are not.

These troubled times, truly, there are no tags

Just the naked body

No color, no gender, no status, no country,

Just life, solemn as light popping clouds of hope

One precious creation, the earth has suckled

First milk from breasts dropped in pain and sweetness

A concoction only Heaven brews, for us

We are all fed, nature above and below us feed.

Our minds grow, heaven's gift to nourish our lands

And from time to time, we learn our lessons

That man has limits

That man needs man

That man finds truth yesterday, now and tomorrow

That man must respect each other.

That man must love, and

That man …