How to Kill Boredom Inside a Cell
Collect all soot from the reinforced ceiling,
And tuck it away in the plastic that brought your sponge gourd ration.
Sand the sticky surface of the cold walls
And plaster with glares the naked body on the poster.
Span the floor with your hand and measure the distance
Between heaven and the hell that is lived on earth.
Study the culture of roaches, ants, and rats,
Compare them with your own whose home range is prison.
Put a stick in your mouth but don’t light it,
Let it crumble from the rage gnashing in your jaws.
Pluck your beard hairs one by one and stick them on the mirror,
Observe the sun’s motion with indifference.
Solve the crossword, sudoku, and blind item,
Argue with the guard, make noises in the cell.
Prick your ears toward the radio and listen to the drama,
Compose a letter to Tiya Dely and enclose a copy of your poem.
Trim your nails, brush your teeth, take a bath, and clean your ears,
Fixate on your nails, teeth, body, and bathed conscience.
Lie down on your back and cross your legs.
(Do this afterward, but don’t let yourself be caught.)
Wait for the cockroach on the ceiling to grow soot, make love to the ant on the wall,
Romance the rats on the floor, suck your cigarette.
Touch the smooth surface of your cheek, cover yourself with gossip,
Don’t turn on the radio anymore, unchain your spirit.
And that’s when you can run after the plod of time,
The unstoppable glacial grind of the wheels of justice.
(The solitary confinement of your sorrow will disappear,
And you’ll forget no one’s visiting you here.)
August 30, 2007
Kung Paano Paslangin ang Pagkabagot sa Loob ng Karsel
Ipunin ang agiw sa kisameng kabelya
At isupot sa plastik ng rasyong patola.
Is-isin ang lagkit sa malamig na pader
At kulapulan ng irap ang nakahubong poster.
Dangkalin ang sahig at kunin ang distansya
Ng langit at impyernong tinamasa sa lupa.
Aralin ang kultura ng ipis, langgam at daga,
Ihambing sa buhay mong sa bilibid nakalungga.
Magsubo ng sigarilyo pero huwag sindihan
Hayaang maluray sa ngitngit ng bagang.
Magbunot ng balbas at idikit sa salamin,
Tarahan ang araw nang kawalang-kapiling.
Sagutan ang crossword, Su Doku’t blind item;
Makipagsagutan sa bantay, kalampagin ang karsel.
Taluntunin ang radyo at makinig sa drama,
Lumiham kay Tiya Dely at magpadala ng tula.
Maghinuko, maghiso, maligo at maghinuli;
Masdan ang kuko, ngipin, katawan at hinugasang budhi.
Humiga nang patihaya saka dume-kuwatro.
(Ganito ang sunod na gawin, pero wag magpabuko)
Hintaying magka-agiw ang ipis sa kisame, sipingan ang langgam sa dingding;
Makipagniig sa daga sa sahig, sigarilyo’y muling sipsipin.
Kapain ang kinis ng pisngi, ikumot ang bali-balita;
Wag nang buhayin ang radyo, palayain ang diwa.
At saka ka makipaghabulan sa bagal ng oras
At sa di-maabutang kupad nang gulong ng batas.
(Mapapawi ngayon ang limbo ng iyong panglaw
At malilimutan mong wala na sa iyong dumadalaw.)
Agosto 30, 2007
Reality Show: Bus No. 914
Lights . . . camera . . . aaak-zyun!
I can detect from these children’s faces
their desire to finish their studies.
It’s painful for me to experience violence.
I can accept any punishment.
I just want to think about the next generation
that public servants have failed,
breaking their promises to the youth.
Cut! Cute guy, enter. Dim the lights.
Bud, I love you. I love you, bud.
I will finance the education of these kids.
That’s a solemn promise
with the Lord God and the Filipino people as my witnesses.
Cut! Where’s the Executive Secretary for the cameo?
Camera, pan to the right!
Keep calm.
We’ve already informed the Education Secretary of your demands.
We’ll work on it.
That’s a promise!
Cut! Boy, deliver it . . . dial up the charm, okay?
My Papa is a gentle person.
We dare not question his principles.
Cut! Where’s the damn extra? Put more dirt on that face.
Yes, I am a parent of one of the kids inside the bus.
I worry deeply about the condition those poor kids are in,
but I believe and trust in the Boss.
Cut! Jun, hit that punchline! Aaak-zyun!
Kabayan, extend the years of my life.
Cut! Time for the final take. Let the kids do “I Have Two Hands.”
Ready . . . sing!
What time are we going home?
Cut! Klap! Klap! Klap!
Good take! That’s a wrap!
March 30, 2007
Reality Show: Bus No. 914
Lights… Camera… Aaak-zyun!
Nakikita ko sa mukha ng mga batang ito
ang pangarap nilang makatapos ng pag-aaral.
Masakit sa akin ang dumaan sa karahasan.
Tanggap ko ang anumang kaparusahan.
Nais ko lamang isipin ang susunod na salinlahi
na di-nagagawa ng mga lingkod-bayan
ang kanilang pangako sa kabataan.
Cut! Pogi, pasok. Bawasan ang ilaw.
Pare, mahal kita. Mahal kita, Pare
Sasagutin ko ang edukasyon ng mga batang ito.
Iyan ay isang pangako,
sa harap ng Panginoon at Sambayanang Pilipino.
Cut! Where’s the Executive Secretary for the cameo?
Camera, pan to the right!
Keep calm.
We already informed the Education Secretary of your demands.
We will work on it.
That’s a promise!
Cut! Utoy, deliver it… yung simpatiko, ha?
Ang aking Papa ay mahinahong tao.
Di namin pwedeng kwestyunin ang kanyang prinsipyo.
Cut! Asan na ‘yung extra? Dagdagan ng uling ang mukha niyan.
Oo, magulang ako ng isang bata sa loob ng bus.
Nag-aalala ako sa kalagayan ng mga musmos,
pero naniniwala at nagtitiwala ako kay Boss.
Cut! Jun, hit your punch line! Aaak-zyun!
Kabayan, dugtungan mo ang buhay ko.
Cut! Final take tayo. Let the kids do “Ako ay may lobo.”
Ready… Sing!
Anong oras tayo uuwi?
Cut! Klap! Klap! Klap!
Good take! Pack-up!
Marso 30, 2007
In and Out
Time after time it’s inexplicable when it is liable
to have light rains in spite of the sun’s fidelity
to the edifice of summer solstice.
When this happens, the indecision will make an excursion to the fizzle
of the drizzle and the shock of the seemingly bewitched workman
playing tag with the in-and-out traffic of hanging and bringing in
the laundry on lines gripped by clips
on the twists of overhang hanger.
And yet the taunting of the wincing, grimacing-draping,
and somersaulting shade of the parade of clouds
in its towering shroud and the strutting stuff of wind whispering,
its whining under the peep and peek of the sleepy landlady
dancing Que Sera, Sera whose flighty nature was reason
for radical rage and hate
of the King who died on the Western flank, mortar-
pounded, after the charge of the mass of hunger strikers.
At the bow of the shallow and lively grave
is the bloodied stretch of sky and space
of ocean, across mountains, like an inferno
to the Empire of touring storm on the irretrievable
kiss of sunbeams that should’ve air-fried
the wet laundry hanging on the clothesline.
They decided to just bring in the washing,
and let it dry from the whirr of the fan.
April 2008
Labas-Masok
Minsan, magkaminsan ay di maipaliwanag ang liwanag
ng pagpatak ng ambon sa kabila ng katapatan ng araw
sa tanghalan ng tanghaling tapat.
Mangyari tuloy, tutulay ang agam-agam sa pagtila
ng ambon at pagkabigla ng tila tulalang karpintero
na nakikipagpatintero sa paglabas-masok upang imasok-labas
ang sinampay sa hanay ng mga sipit na nakaipit
sa napilipit na hangerang hanger.
Anupa’t nang-uupat ang ngingibit, ngingisi-lalambong
at nagtutumbalengkong na kulimlim ng lilim ng ulap
na di-maapuhap sa tayog ay iindayog ang hanging hinihingahan
ng pag-ihip ng sumisilip sa pagkakaidlip na kaserang
nag-que sera-sera sa kalikasang lumilikas ay dili’t sanhi
ng sidhi ng dalit at galit
ng Haring pumanaw sa Kanluraning ibayo, binayo
sa lusong, paglusong ng lumusob na nag-aklas sa gutom
sa ibabaw ng mababaw na libangang libingan
ay mga duguang dinugtungang kalangitan at kalawakan
ng karagatan, karatig ang kabundukan, ay tila impyerno
sa Imperyo ng dumayong bagyo sa di na maibabalik
na halik ng sinag na sana’y sasangag
sa basang sinampay sa sampayan.
Nagpasya siyang tuluyan nang isilong ang binilad
at patuyuin na lamang ito sa tulong ng bentilador.
Abril 2008
✶✶✶✶
Axel Pinpin is a Filipino poet, activist, and former political prisoner. He is the author of the poetry collections Tugmaang Walang Tugma, Tugmaang Matatabil, and Lover’s Lane. Detained in Camp Vicente Lim from 2006 to 2008, he wrote many of the poems later collected in Tugmaang Matatabil. He is also the lead vocalist of The Axel Pinpin Propaganda Machine, a band that combines poetry and protest music.
Ryan Fuentes is a Filipino writer and translator based in Manila. Since 2009, he has written book reviews on his blog In Lieu of a Field Guide, focusing on literary works in translation.
Bastienne Schmidt is a multidisciplinary artist working with photography, painting, and large-scale drawings. She was born in Germany, raised in Greece and Italy, and has lived in New York for the past 30 years. Her artwork is included in the collections of the Museum of Modern Art in New York, the International Center of Photography, the Brooklyn Museum, and the Victoria and Albert Museum in London, among others. Her work has been shown nationally and internationally in over 100 exhibitions. She has published seven monographs and is the recipient of the Kodak Book Award, the German Photo Prize, and the World Press Photo Award.
