About ferayag

silent as moss

the hero

andres andres
man so fearless

cut was his head
run not he did

cut was his arm
he did not run

flicked was his dick
he ran so quick.

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Boatman

A boatman promised us the shore.
Mouth frothing with blabbers,
he took the oar and paddled right,
right to where we wanted to leave –
the mouth of a whirlpool.

Our boat capsized. Drown us?
We know how to swim. Has any boatman
swum free from his own sticky spittle?

O wind, tell the tale of a young boy from Lamud*

That day on the hill sunlight leapt and laughter rolled –
a fate pregnant with a tongue tingling to be born;
O wind, tell the tale of a young boy from Lamud.

A crumpled leaf on a wild vine glinted like gold,
inside, a spider still refused to greet the morn;
that day on the hill sunlight leapt and laughter rolled.

Tender fingers tiptoed on the vine to the fold
where the spider lay asleep – dreaming or wayworn?
O wind, tell the tale of a young boy from Lamud.

Suddenly, something whizzed and the grassblades trembled,
the earth – pummeled by combat boots – echoed a groan;
that day on the hill sunlight leapt and laughter rolled.

Blots of blood clung upon the silky silver web,
the threads sagged heavy with a dragging breath, forlorn;
O wind, tell the tale of a young boy from Lamud.

Can a concrete cross lighten the loss, bear the load
weighing down the mother’s heart left to wrath and mourn?
That day on the hill sunlight leapt and laughter rolled,
O wind, tell the tale of a young boy from Lamud.

*Lamud – a barangay in South Upi, Maguindanao, Philippines.

Merit Promotion

Apolonio Paria Dionisio. Assistant
Professor 7. Salary grade: 21 -5. Finished
PhD in Panitikan in 1986. Original
Appointment:  June 16, 1976. Last
Promotion: 2002.  Publications:
Diona, Tanaga, Dagli, Balagtasan,
Bugtong, Ambahan, Oyayi, Tagulaylay.

Rank Deserved:  Professor 12.  But
Won’t Advance; no ISI-Scopus publication.

He throws bread crumbs to the pond
And the fishes swarm –  the big ones
with the big mouths gulp the big chunks;
the small ones nibble the particles
that escape from the big mouths
of the big ones.  He is 64.

He is 64.

selfie (12)

WHATTA!?

I am a Filipino, defender
of freedom and democracy.

Lover. I love

regurgitating refuse
from the Bald Eagle’s
ass, and here I am stricken
with twin sickening diseases:

mental diarrhea cash-ridden isms fresh or putrid surge from my mouth like sewage
gushing through septic tank sewer

con
stipated con
sciousnesslikha-diwa (8)

not
even the
tiniest of
light
could pen
etrate
my mind, an ass so tight

through which only
the fain
test of fart
could pass, a stin
king fume
that could
send a hermit
buck run amok,
lamenting
why on
earth he broke
free from
his moth
er’s womb.