Regla sa buwan ng Hunyo

Regla Sa Buwan Ng Hunyo ni Ruth E. Mabanglo.

Pagbigyan ang pwersang ito:
lakas na umaahon sa sinapupunan,
init na sumusubo, dumadaloy, umiigkas,
kusang lumalaya't lumalayaw
kahit na sinusupil,
dumadanak at bumabakas
hatdan man ng hilahil.

Pagbigyan ang pwersang ito--
ito:
kabuuan ng lahat kong pagkatao,
kabuuan ng kaibhan ko't pagkakatulad
sa lahat ng tao,
kabuuan ng naimpok kong alaala't
ginagastang kasalukuyan
kabuuan ng kinabukasang isinasanla
sa kalendaryo.

Pagbigyan ang pwersang ito--
hayaang magmapa sa talaan
ng utang ko't pautang,
hayaang maglimbag ng sagutin ko't
pananagutan:
sa sarili, sa angkan at sa lipunan:
hayaang magbadya
ng karaingan ko't pangangailangan,
ngayon,
habang nilalason ng maraming kabaro
ang itlog at semilya
at binubulok naman ng iba
sa sansupot na goma
ang bunga ng pag-ibig at pagtatalik.
Ay, anong kilusan, martsa't litanya
upang mapuksa ang sanggol
nang buong laya?
Ilang liblib na klinika, basurahan at
kubeta
ang pag-iimbakan ng kapusuka't sala?
Kahit ang ampunang nagbobodega
ng pananagutang itinatwa
may sumbat ng kalikasang
di matatakasan.

Pagbigyan ang pwersang ito--
ismiran ang humuhugot na kirot,
batahin ang hagupit
habang tinatanggap, tinatanggap
ang katuturang
pumapaso sa pagtigmak.

Ito ang pagtagay sa Hunyo
sa kalis ko--
nobya,
asawa,
kerida,
o kahit ng bayarang tagapagpaligaya:
ito ang testamento, ang kontrata, ang
sumpa:
ito ang saligan,
ang kahulugan at kahungkagan
ng buhay at pag-iral.
Pagbigyan,
ito,
ang agos ng madlang pagsulong--
hininga ng pag-asa
ang namimilapil dito.

http://www2.hawaii.edu/~mabanglo/about.htm

.Ang Mga Kagilagilalas na Pakikipagsapalaran ni Juan de la Cruz ni Jose F. Lacaba.

.Ang Mga Kagilagilalas na Pakikipagsapalaran ni Juan de la Cruz ni Jose F. Lacaba.

1.
isang gabing madilim
puno ng pangambang sumakay sa bus
si Juan dela Cruz
pusturang-pustura
kahit walang laman ang bulsa
BAWAL MANIGARILYO BOSS
sabi ng kondoktora
at minura
si Juan dela Cruz

2.
pusturang-pustura
kahit walang laman ang bulsa
nilakad ni Juan dela Cruz
ang buong Avenida
BAWAL PUMARADA
sabi ng bakod
kaya napagod
si Juan dela Cruz

3.
nang abutin ng gutom
si Juan dela Cruz
tumapat sa Ma Mon Luk
inamoy and mami, siopao, lumpia, pansit
hanggang mabusog
nagdaan sa Sine Dalisay
tinitigan ang litrato ni Chichay
PASSES NOT HONORED TODAY
sabi ng takilyera
tawa ng tawa

4.
dumalaw sa kongreso
si Juan dela Cruz
MAG-INGAT SA ASO
sabi ng deputado
nagtuloy sa Malakanyang
wala namang dalang kamanyang
KEEP OF THE GRASS
sabi ng hardinero
sabi ng sundalo
kay Juan dela Cruz

5.
nang dapuan ng...
si Juan dela Cruz
namasyal sa Culi-Culi
parang espadang bali-bali
YOUR CREDIT IS GOOD BUT WE NEED CASH
sabi ng bugaw
habang humihigop ng sabaw

6.
pusturang-pustura
kahit walang laman ang bulsa
naglibot sa Dewey
si Juan dela Cruz
PAN-AM BAYSIDE SAVOY THEY SATISFY
sabi ng neon
humikab ang dagat na parang leon
masarap sanang tumalon
BAWAL MAGTAPON NG BASURA
sabi ng alon

7.

bumalik sa quiapo
si Juan dela Cruz
at medyo kinabahan
pumasok sa simbahan
IN GOD WE TRUST
sabi ng obispo
ALL OTHERS PAY CASH
ang wala ng malunok
si Juan dela Cruz
dala-dala'y gulok
gula-gulanit ang damit
wala pa ring laman and bulsa
umakyat sa Arayat
ang namayat na
si Juan dela Cruz
WANTED DEAD OR ALIVE
sabi ng PC
ang walanghiyang kabataan
kung bakit sinulsulan
ang isang tahimik na mamamayan
katulad ni Juan dela Cruz

http://cowy.tabulas.com/2004/08/02/@396648/ 

Ambon,Ulan,Baha

Ambon, Ulan, Baha by Frank Rivera

“AMBON ULAN BAHA” is a two-hour ethno-rock modern zarzuela that showcases twenty original musical scores inspired by kundiman, balitaw, ethnic and modern musical trends with choreography based on ethnic, folk/traditional and creative dances.

An original production of the celebrated Mindanao State University –Sining Kambayoka ( founded by Theater Artist Frank G. Rivera ) in 1978, “ Ambom…” was remounted by Teatro Metropolitano through NCCA Grant in 1992, also at the helm of Rivera.

This long –time running musicale which predicted the Ormoc tragedy in 1991, highlights environmental concerns and focuses on the preservation of Philippine forests. It also deals heavily on Filipino values, the importance of education, religion, family and youth. It also carries relevant commentaries on socio-economic and political issues of the times. It aims to educate its audiences especially the youth about issues of urgent and national importance.

To – date, ARNAI’s “ Ambon, Ulan, Baha” has been sponsored by several organizations and institutions and has seen more than 500 performances.

The zarzuela’s success in depicting the Filipino lives after almost three decades after it was first staged, proved its timelessness and its relevance to the evolutions of Philippine Theater.

Its music, inspired by folk/traditional songs like balitaw and kundiman, formerly considered provincial “ bakya “ , and unsophisticated as compared to “mainstream” of legitimate theater, proved to be good venue for improvisation and fusion, thus exploring and experimenting for new forms.

Its dances: a fusion of folk/traditional, modern and creative movements showcase creative interpretation of the play’s songs and scene.

The world is an apple

The World Is An Apple by Alberto S. Florentino

This is a story of how wrong decisions become greater burdens to a family.  Mario’s family happens to be in the lower bracket of society.  He cannot even provide for his family’s basic needs.  Albeit all this hardships, his wife Gloria, still manages to keep her good virtuous.  She insists that the way they are living is a much better than the one they will have if they do wrong acts.    But Gloria’s entire constant reminder to Mario did not prosper.  Mario decided to come back to his old life of crime when he lost his job when he tried to steal an apple for his daughter.  He keeps on insisting that his priority is to provide what his wife and daughter needs.  He left with Pablo, his old crime buddy, even if Gloria pleaded very hard for him not to go with the man. This is a sad representation of what is happening in the society today.  Due to lack of better opportunities to heighten one’s standard of living, some become entangled with the wrong crowd.  By doing so, these individuals do not help their family at all; instead, they end up worsening their family’s problem.  It is man’s basic instinct that drives him towards his survival.  But, no matter what, he should not forget that society expects him to conform to its norms.  One’s action is weighed right or wrong and thus should be kept towards the proper action.

the small key

THE SMALL KEY by Paz Latorena

 It was very warm. The sun, up above a sky that was all blue and tremendous and beckoning to birds ever on the wing, shone bright as if determined to scorch everything under heaven, even the low, square nipa house that stood in unashamed relief against the gray green haze of grass and leaves. It was a lonely dwelling, located far from its neighbors, which were huddled close to one another as if for mutual comfort, it was flanked on both sides by tall, slender bamboo tress which rustled plaintively under a gentle wind. On the porch a woman past her early twenties stood regarding the scene before her with eyes made incurious by its familiarity. All around her the land stretched endlessly, it seemed, and vanished into the distance there were dark newly plowed furrows where in due time timorous seedlings would give rise to study stalks and golden grain, to a ripping yellow sea in the wind and sun during harvest time. Promise of plenty and reward for hard toil! With a sigh of discontent, however, the woman turned and entered a small dining room where a man sat over a belated midday meal. Pedro Buhay, a prosperous farmer, looked up from his plate and smiled at his wife as she stood framed by the doorway, the sunlight glinting on her dark hair, which was drawn back, without a relenting wave, from a rather prominent and austere brow. "Where are the shirts I ironed yesterday?" she asked as she approached the table. "In my trunk, I think" he answered. "Some of them need darning" and observing the empty plate, she added, "do you want some more rice?" "No" hastily, "I am in a hurry to get back. We must finish plowing the south field today because tomorrow is Sunday." Pedro pushed the chair back and stood up. Soledad began to pile the dirty dishes one on top of the other. "Here is the key to my trunk" from the pocket of his khaki coat he pulled a string of nondescript red, which held together a big shiny key and another small, rather rusty - looking one. With deliberate care he untied the knot, and, detaching the big key, dropped the small one back into his pocket. She watched him fixedly as he did this. The smile left her face and strange look came into her eyes as she look the big key from him without a word together they left the dining room. Out on the porch, he put an arm around her shoulder and peered into her shadowed face. "You look pale and tired", he remarked softly. "What have you been doing all morning?" "Nothing," she said listlessly, "but the heat gives me a headache." "Then lie down and try to sleep while I am gone." For a moment they looked deep into each other's eyes. "It is really warm," he continued. "I think I will take off my coat." He removed the garment absent-mindedly and handed it to her. The stairs creaked under his weight as he went down. "Choleng" he turned his head as he opened the gate, "I shall pass by Tia Maria's house and tell her to come, I may not return before dark." Soledad nodded. Her eyes followed her husband down the road, noting the fine set of his head and shoulders, the ease of his stride. A strange ache rose in her throat. She looked at the coat he had handed to her. It exuded a faint smell of his favorite cigars, one of which he invariably smoked, after the day's work, on his way home from fields. Mechanically, she began to fold the garment. As she was doing so, a small object fell o the floor with a dull, metallic sound. Soledad stooped down and picked it up. It was the small key! She started at it in her palm as if she had never seen before. Her mouth was tightly drawn and for a while she looked almost old. She passes into the small bedroom and tossed the coat carelessly on the back of a chair. She opened the window and the early afternoon sunshine flooded in. On a mat spread on the bamboo floor were some newly washed garments. She began to fold them one by one in feverish haste, as if seeking in the task Of the moment a refuge from painful thoughts. But her eyes moved restlessly around the room until they rested almost furtively on a small trunk that was half concealed by a rolled mat in a dark corner. It was a small, old trunk, without anything on the outside that might arouse one's curiosity. But it held the things she had come to hate with unnecessary anguish and pain, and threatened to destroy all that was most beautiful between her and her husband! Soledad came across a torn garment. She threaded a needle but after a few uneven stitches she pricked her finger and a crimson drop stained the white garment. Then she saw she had been mending on the wrong way. "What is the matter with me?" she asked herself aloud as she pulled the thread with nervous and impatient fingers. What did it matter if her husband chose to keep the clothes of his first wife? "She is dead now, anyhow, she is dead." She repeated to herself over and over again. The sound of her own voice calmed her. She tried to thread the needle once more. But she could not, for the tears had come unbidden and completely blinded her. "My God," she cried with a sob "make me forget Indo's face as he put the small key back into his pocket" She brushed her tears with a sleeve of her camisa and abruptly stood up. The heat was stifling, and the silence in the house was beginning to be unendurable. She looked out of the window. she wondered what was keeping Tia Maria Perhaps Pedro has forgotten to pass by her house in his hurry. She could picture him out there in the south field gazing far and wide at the newly plowed land, with no thought in his mind but work. Work. For. To the people of the barrio whose patron saint, San Isidro Labrador, smiled on them with benign eyes from his crude altar in the little chapel up the hill, this season was a prolonged hour of passion during which they were blind and deaf to everything but the demands of the land. During the next half hour, Soledad wandered in and out of the rooms, in an effort to seek escape from her own thoughts and to fight down an overpowering impulse. Tia Maria would only come and talk to her to divert her thoughts to other channels! But the expression of her husband's face as he put the small key back into his pocket kept torturing her like a nightmare, goading her beyond endurance. Then, with all resistance to the impulse gone, she was kneeling before the small trunk. With a long drawn breath she inserted the small key. There was unpleasant, metallic sound for the key had not been used for a long time and it was rusty. II That evening Pedro Buhay hurried home with the usual cigar dangling from his mouth, please with himself and the tenants because the work in the south field has been finished. He was met by Tia maria at the gate and was told by her that Soledad was in bed with a fever. "I shall go to town and bring Dr.Santos," he decided, his cool hand on his wife's brow. Soledad opened her eyes. "Don't Indo," she begged with a vague terror in her eyes which he took for anxiety for him because the town was pretty far and the road was dark and deserted by that hour of the night. "I shall be all right tomorrow." Pedro returned an hour later, very tired and rather worried. The doctor was not at home. But the wife had promised to send him to Pedro's house as soon as he came in. Tia Maria decided to remain for the night. But it was Pedro who stayed up to watch over the sick woman. He was puzzled and worried - more than he cared to admit. It was true that Soledad had not looked very well when he left her early that that afternoon. Yet, he thought, the fever was rather sudden. He was afraid it might be a symptom of a serious illness. Soledad was restless the whole night. She tossed from one side to another, but towards morning she fell into some sort of troubled sleep. Pedro then lay down to snatch a few winks. He woke up to find the soft morning sunshine streaming through the half opened window, playing on the sleeping face of his wife. He got up without making any noise. His wife was now breathing evenly. A sudden rush of tenderness came over him at the sight of her - so slight, so frail. Tia Maria was nowhere to be seen, but that did not bother him for it was Sunday and work in the south field was finished. However, he missed the pleasant aroma which came from the kitchen every time he woke up early in the morning. The kitchen looked neat but cheerless, and an immediate search for wood brought no results. So, shouldering an ax, Pedro descended the rickety stairs that led to the backyard. The morning was clear and the breeze soft and cool. Pedro took in a breath of air. It was good - it smell of trees, of the rice fields, of the land he loved. He found a pile of logs under the young mango tree near the house, and began to chop. He swung the ax with rapid clean sweeps, enjoying the feel of the smooth wooden handle in his palms. As he stopped for a while to mop his brow, his eye caught the remnants of a smudge that had been built in the backyard. "Ah!" he muttered to himself. "She swept that yard yesterday after I left her. That coupled with the heat must have given her a headache and then the fever." The morning breeze stirred the ashes and a piece of white cloth fluttered into view. Pedro dropped his ax. It was a half - burnt panuelo. Somebody had been burning clothes. He examined the slightly ruined garment closely. A puzzled expression came into his eyes. First it was doubt groping for truth, then amazement, and finally agonized incredulity passed across his face. He almost ran back to the house. In three strides he was upstairs. He found his coat hanging from the back of a chair Cautiously he entered the room. The heavy breathing of his wife told him that she was still sleep. As he stood by the small trunk, a vague distance to open it assailed him. Surely, he must be mistaken. She could not have done it, she could not have done that…that foolish… Resolutely he opened trunk. It was empty. It was nearby noon when the doctor arrived. He felt Soledad's pulse and asked questions which she answered in monosyllables. Pedro stood by listening to the whole procedure with an expression when the doctor told him by the gate that nothing was really wrong with his wife although she seemed to be worried about something. The physician merely prescribed a day of complete test. Pedro lingered on the porch after the doctor had mouthed his horse and galloped away. He was trying not to be angry with his wife. He hoped it would be just an interlude that could be recalled without bitterness. She would explain sooner or later, she would be repentant, perhaps she would even try to convince him that shi had done it because she loved him. And he would listen and eventually forgive her for she was young always remain a shadow in their lives. How quiet and peaceful the day was! A cow that had strayed by looked over her shoulder with a round vague inquiry and went on chewing her cud, blissfully unaware of such things as a gnawing fear in the hear of a woman and a still smoldering resentment in a man's.

How Colonization Shape Our World

Colonization has a big influenced to our country , because very country who colonize us has a trade mark that we can't forget.There is American who introduced us the Education . The Spanish who introduced Catholicism and other country who colonize us . There are many influenced introduced by them . They introduced the literature to us. Literature has a big influence to us , because literature tells us what happen to our country when we our colonize by other country . Everything in our country has influenced by other . No one can make things changes . We accept what other do to our country .

American introduce us the education so because of them we have learned about the things happen to our country . They introduced English language who has a big influenced to our modern society . But everyone has a conflict to our daily lifestyle . We are Filipino , we are supposed to use our own language but everyone has a mistake to take some granted to do so . We are supposed to make something to our country so we have follow every rule .

But anything else we first think what happen to our country so we don't make some mistake for us to affect everything for us . We are Filipino so we help each other , for us to contribute some good thing to affect our nation. For us I will start it for myself so I help our country for other country who colonize us.

sino ang Baliw

SINO ANG BALIW ( Basil VAldez )

Ang natutuwang baliw, yaman ay pinagyabang
dahil ari niya raw, ang araw pati ang buwan
May isang sa yaman ay, salapi ang hinihigan
ngunit ang gintong baul, panay kasalanan ang laman

Sinasambit ng baliw, awit na walang laman
ulo mo'y maiiling, tatawagin mong hangal
May isang hindi baliw, iba ang awit na alam
Buong araw magdasal, sinungaling rin naman

Sinong dakila? Sino ang tunay na baliw?
Sinong mapalad? Sinong tumatawag ng habag?
Yaong bang sinilang, na ang pag-iisip hindi lubos?
O husto ang isip, Ngunit sa pag-ibig ay kapos

Ang kanyang tanging suot, ay sira-sirang damit
Na nakikiramay sa isip niyang punit-punit
May binata ang gayak, ay diamante at hiyas
Ngunit oras maghubad, kulay ahas ang balat

Sinong dakila? Sino ang tunay na baliw?
Sinong mapalad? Sinong tumatawag ng habag?
Yaong bang sinilang, na ang pag-iisip hindi lubos?
O husto ang isip, Ngunit sa pag-ibig ay kapos

Sa kanyang kilos at galaw, tayo ay naaaliw
Sa ating mga mata, isa lamang siyang baliw
Ngunit, kung tayo ay, hahatulang sabay
Sa mata ng Maykapal, siya'y higit na banal

Sinong dakila? Sino ang tunay na baliw?
Sinong mapalad? Sinong tumatawag ng habag?
Yaong bang sinilang, na ang pag-iisip hindi lubos?
O husto ang isip

Kaya't sino, sino, sino, sino nga
Sino nga ba, Sino Sino ba,
Sino nga ba ang tunay na baliw?