biguin ang budget cut!!

isang statement laban sa budget cut

Dahil kami ang boss
–UP Panitikan

kamakailan lamang ay itinatak sa aming isipan
kami raw ang boss kaya’t kami’t pakikinggan
ngunit Noynoy, bakit ka nagbibingibingihan
boses nami’y di naririnig kahit ipaglakasan

wag kaming linlangin mahal naming pangulo
wag tayo magpaikot ikot, hindi naman kami bobo
kaming mga studyante’y hindi pabor ang hinihingi
sapagkat aming karapatan ang siyang itinitindig

hindi magandang biro ang pagtapyas ng aming pondo
habang ang bayad utang at militar ay suportadong todo
elementarya’t hayskul raw ang aming kaagaw sa pondo
ngunit ang totoo ay yung mga kaalyado mong Amerikano

baka sakaling hindi mo pa alam kaya aming babanggitin
karapatan sa edukasyo’y nasa saligang batas natin
bata, matanda, may ngipin man o wala, kahit sino ka pa
silid arala’t upua’y dapat ibigay, walang tanong tanong pa

higit pa sa 1.39 bilyon ang mawawalang parang bula
kasama ang pangarap ng mga kabataang sa mundo’y wala pa
kung ganitong pagpapahalaga ang ipinataw sa edukasyon
iyan ba ang tinatawag na daang matuwid ng iyong administrasyon?!

mariin naming tinututulan ang iyong kalapastanganan
ginoo sa Malacanang, makinig ka sa aming panawagan
kaming boss mo ay galit na galit na
gobyerno mo’y gawing makatarungan para sa madla

kami’y hinding hindi titigil sa paglaban
hindi pwedeng karapata’y balewalain na lamang
hangga’t di naipagkakaloob kung ano ang nararapat
mga iskolar ng bayan ang mabagsik mong makakatapat!

Today, I...

By sulatkamay

Diary, I wrote a poem for someone… I’m just not sure whether my feelings can be felt in this poem. Can you pretend to be that person, then tell me what you think… ehem.

Would it be alright if I’d love you?

Love, and the crazy romantic phrases

People talked so much about

Turned out to be my life.

I don’t know why

I didn’t know when it started.

But day by day - they turned out to be completed

When you smile at me.

I’d just want to embrace you

So badly that as if

One hug could make all

The awkwardness of attempting to, worthwhile

I want to hold your hand

I want it to tightly hold mine

I want your hand to feel how much

My heart decided to hold on to you

These stupid feelings seem to fill my days

Can’t even go by an hour

Without thinking of you

Is this really what they call love?

I am happy when I am with you

That no matter where we go

My world seem to follow

My world seemed to be you.

Lately I have been troubled by these emotions

Would it be alright if I’d love you?

That I’d want nothing more

Than your hand and smile

If this is what they call love

Then perhaps,

You can call me a man in love

However foolish I might sound now.

Is it okay if I say that I love you?

Is it okay if my heart could shout nothing else?

Diary, how was it? How can you talk? How can you tell me that it wasn’t good? Eh?

Still, no matter how I force myself into believing that I am not, nothing else could justify how I have been feeling. Well I guess I am, diary, don’t you think love is a funny thing? It makes people talk to their diaries, and feel good. It’s funny being in love. I can’t even think straight, and I don’t seem to mind.

Well, I’ll talk to you tomorrow diary, I hope by then, you’re not the only diary that knows my love.

All I had.

By sulatkamay

Why did you choose to leave

while I was holding your hand,

while I was crying

while my heart was in pain?

You did not even care

That as you were saying goodbye

i was crying

So much

That I couldn’t even see you clearly

That my tears were not allowing me

to see you

That as you were explaining

I was holding your hand so hard

So that I could I either show you

How much my heart continued to hold you even on that moment

Or show you how much pain

You are causing me to feel on that moment

-your selfish moment

You did not even know

That no matter how much I cried

How hard I held your hand

I felt so much pain

That I’d wish I held my heart instead of your hand

At least I’d stop hurting it when I begin to cry

But I had no choice

I was not the one that held my heart

And the person that held it continued to cause pain

Even though I already had no tear to cry

You said that you knew how much I love you

You did not,

Cause if you did

You’d know that you were hurting it.

Guess you never had your heart broken before

Cause if you did, you’d know better

to notice me when I was crying

Or you would have known when to stop holding on to my heart

When you left, all I did was thank my tears

For forbidding me to see you leave

Yet hate these tears

For I was not able to see

-until now

That all my hand did was catch my tears

But never really held your heart.

Di na Natuto

by Xy

Tumakbo sa pang-Panguluhan

Nagtagal sa katungkulan

Maganda ang simula

Nagtagal, kasamaa’y lumala

Nanatili dulot ng iisang hangarin

Kapangyarihan nais kimkimin

Tayo’y naghangad ng matapang na tao

Tumayo ang iisang apelyido

Akala ng lahat kayo’y tagapagligtas

Simula lang pala kayo may gilas

Hinahamon ngayon ‘yong administrasyon

Kumilos ka ngayon, ‘wag manatiling tikom

Excerpts from a Diary

by sulatkamay

Monday

I asked you if you love me. And you asked me if I really want to know. I said “yes”. You said you did, but I wasn’t convinced.

Tuesday

You gave me a sheet of paper, a clue to the treasure hunt game we used to play. You also said that you’ll be leaving on Saturday for a two-week vacation with your family on some country at some fancy hotel. I guess I had no choice, you have to spend time with your family.

Thursday

I honestly tried to avoid you. I was self-conscious and unsure, whether you really did love me. Perhaps it was on how your eyes looked, or how it seemed that the phrase “yes, I love you” was just forced out of you.

Saturday

You left for your family vacation. I told you I wanted a t-shirt as a souvenir.

Sunday

I decided to crack the clue you gave to me last time. I guess I should have done it earlier… I did not understand your clue then, well, I really am stupid at games like these, that’s why you always won.

Tuesday

I finally understood what your clue meant. Somehow, it pointed to my own room. But I couldn’t find anything different, nothing new.

Friday

As I were changing clothes before going to class, I noticed that my pile of shirts seemed to be bulkier than before. I was right. Of all the places you could have chosen…

It was a picture frame, but instead of containing a picture, it was a poem written by a famous writer.

I am not really good with this creative writing stuff. I guess the poem was good, it was about love, about a person confessing love to another. I got the message.

Wednesday

I saw your family vehicle pass by. I guessed that your vacation was over. I went to your house, and was called by your dad. He told me what had happened. He told me about the accident. And that you were dead. I initially believed that it was all a joke, but as I saw everyone in your house crying, I simply found myself tearing because of this stupid joke.

Saturday

It was the day of your burial. I decided to give you a gift.

I wanted to find some good writer to create a beautiful poem for me - one that shall say how much I loved you, how much I wanted to be with you.

But I thought instead to give you this diary. For you to read everything that I have ever thought. And I guess that, no matter how beautiful the poem a good writer can create, it’s nothing compared to a few stupid, poorly written lines created by the person who actually loved you.

I guess, if I weren’t that stupid, we could have at least spent nearly two weeks where we were truly in love.

HALF-LIFE

(inspired by Little Wonders by Rob Thomas)

For my friend, KJB. May your soul rest in peace.

By Patalipat

Let it go, let it roll right off your shoulder. Don't you know the hardest part is over.

Everything would turn out okay. I would convince myself a million times that everything was going according to His plan. He left us, his brave soul took the lead and there was nothing more I could do about it. I shed tears a lot, cried with his family, his friends, grieved for the emptiness and the blame that was slowly eating me up inside. I was still holding his hand, afraid to forget him and to let him go but it came to the point that it hurt so much that I had no choice but to slowly loosen the grip. The hardest part is over-- grieving had always been the toughest part of moving on. But now that some time has passed, I have moved on from the pain and the guilt but not the memories of his face, his antics, and our friendship.

Let your clarity define you. In the end, we will only just remember how it feels.

I knew I had to be strong, for his family, his other friends and for myself. I needed some distraction from the fact that I, myself, was weak. I needed to make up something for me to believe in. And I succeeded. For almost a year and a half now, I made myself believe that I accepted his absence, his choice to leave us and this world that he never wanted. I blamed him at first. I was mad.

Why? How can you be so egocentric to take away your own life? Did you even think about your family, your friends that were always there for you? Did you ever think about how your Mama would be so devastated? How about your promise to your Papa that you would be a great architect one day and build a house for your family? You know your family was depending on you! But why are you so selfish to leave your two sisters crying here thinking that you didn’t love them? Are your reasons enough to end God’s wonderful plans for you?

But then, this anger melted away every time I think back on those times he was still here. He was a good-natured fellow, a leader that everyone respected, a happy person. Suddenly, all the resentment faded away replaced by this inevitable pity—for himself, for his family and friends, for myself.

You see, I had the chance to talk to him-- CHANCES to talk to him. I knew he had a plan to take away his life but I refused to believe, thinking he was not serious about it. I could not help but blame myself for not doing enough to prevent all these from happening. He would always haunt my dreams and I would always find myself crying in my sleep. I knew I could have done more but I didn’t. Now, I am left alone with this big hole in my heart and a fat lie that it was not my fault. Though I claim that I have moved on, the memories still remain like moving pictures in my head and the worse part, I remember how things were easier and happier when he was still here.

Our lives are made in these small hours, these little wonders, these twists and turns of fate. Time falls away, but these small hours, these small hours still remain.

We often measure how great our lives are through the money we have, through the number of years we lived, through our success in our careers. Sometimes, we lose sight of the little wonders that make our lives worth living especially when we lose ourselves in despair, in steadiness, and tragedies. We overlook the marvels and sensations of the familiar touch of reassurance on our skins, the warm hugs, or a kind or loving gesture, an encouragement, soft spoken secrets, an offer of comfort from friends and families. They exist to save our lives.

When he had given up in this life, he had unconsciously saved another life from giving up as well. He became our hope, the moral we all needed. He had his moments with us, those times when he had to break the seriousness of a class discussion by his usual antics, those times when we had to beg him to excuse us from CAT classes. He had been a great friend, an awesome band mate, a resourceful student, a warm-hearted son—a remarkable person. Nothing could beat the fact that he lived his life to the fullest, not even this twist of fate for him and for all of us because we all had little wonders from him in the small hours we had left with him.

Let it slide, let your troubles fall behind you. Let it shine until you feel it all around you.

A year and a half after, here still remains the hole but I am now stronger and I have learned to let go of the bad memories. I put every trouble aside and learned to live with the good remembrance because I do not want to forget that the present is a gift. Wherever he may be, he would always be watching over us with a smile on his face knowing that we are happy now.

I don't mind if it's me you need to turn to. We’ll get by, it's the heart that really matters in the end.

He was my classmate for 3 years and we have been close friends ever since the second year in high school. We would sit together in class, doodle while the teacher was discussing something, we would sing together, joke around, and get crazy about nothing, share rumors and talk about anything under the sun. He would call me during weekends and talk about the girl he liked and then I would chatter about the boy I liked. I would tell him how short he was and he would tease me by how big I was. We would tease until we get mad at each other. He was a crazy friend. He would make you angry then he would crack you up and suddenly, all the ire would be gone. He would always be the same boy that puts a smile to my face.

Now that he is gone, my mind would unconsciously make ways to see him. He would visit me in my dreams, some were happy, some were creepy. But all the while, I am glad. These dreams make me believe that I still know him, that he still wants me to remember him and to tell me that he is doing great wherever he is now. He still makes me feel that he could talk to me about anything and anytime. He wants me to know that we’ll still be friends no matter what.

All of my regret will wash away somehow. But I cannot forget the way I feel right now.

Regrets of not able to do enough will always be etched within me. But I still believe all these will pass, that one day I won’t blame myself anymore. But I am scared that if that day comes, I would still remember that way it felt to be left, to lose someone you value so much. I have never had someone close to me passed away. He was the first and it worries me that I won’t be able to handle myself and my emotions the next time something like this happens again. Time can only tell. And in this case, time healed me. Regrets became hope, and three years of friendship became a lifetime of memories.

Our lives are made in these small hours, these little wonders, these twists & turns of fate. Time falls away, but these small hours still remain.

It has been 5, 110 hours since the day I last saw him breathing and living. But in my heart, he had never been more alive. It took me so much to pretend that everything was going to be okay when all along; I never needed to fool myself. I just have to believe that someday, things will be better for all of us, that this needed to happen for God’s bigger plan to be realized. Before the truth comes back into hiding, I have accepted that he is now gone into a better place where he can see all of us. I am sure he would be doing great if he were still here but wherever he is, he is still probably the crazy little boy I have always known. With the memories we had, I offer my prayers to him along with the new stories I have to tell him.

I don’t remember him because how would remember someone I have never forgotten? Time heals and it makes regrets turn to hope and three years of friendship to a lifetime of memories.

Stage One

by sulatkamay

But the goodbyes had been said,

As it is what cannot be avoided.

The heart has no other path than to accept,

-a path, perhaps, more difficult than the farewell.

People leave instantly

Without reason and time for preparations

They go onto another stage forward

And it shall appear as though they were all

Characters on a level of

The game of life you play so idly.

The boss has simply been defeated -

The ending has just been met,

And as everyone advance to their own stages,

The level where you were all once were

Shall remain a completed arena

-a memory of success;

A proof of what you had experienced

With everyone by your side.

Stupid enough

Every once in a while, you’d always think

That time should stop

That you’d never be able to defeat the boss

And reach an ending.

Afraid enough

That it is a different game without that person,

That same environment, that same crowd.

They say that perhaps goodbyes help a person

grow

But no one ever said that it would be simple.

Pain shall always occur

For no one shall finish the stage unwounded.

They may, however,

Before moving on to the next stage

Be healed with a magical potion;

-It’s the fact

That you did not just leave.

You shall go as a character who helped

Me find the perfect weapons

And armor to face the boss, and

As a person that helped me

Attain that ending.

People will leave instantly -

As though that stage is complete,

But to take the perfect score,

You’d have to find that magical potion

And perhaps, far before defeating the boss,

You may find to not have needed that potion,

Cause you’d rather retain the wounds

For at least you can say that

You played the stage,

And reached an ending.

But the goodbyes had been said,

As it is what cannot be avoided.

The heart has no other path than to accept,

-a heart that carries an unused magical potion.