night.gifFilipino Poetry Page



This page is dedicated to the prose and poetry of Filipinos. Poems in Pilipino, English and all the dialects of the Philippines are accepted. Preferably, the contributors should either be Filipino, or writing about something that concerns the Philippines or Filipinos. However, any really good poetry will be considered. Space is limited, however. For now, most of the stuff is my own. If you have some good stuff that's not too saucy, please email me at p.manansala@sbcglobal.net

Photo credit: Tiare flower courtesy of http://www.ultima.org/~scruton/page2.html

Note: All the new stuff will now be entered at the start of this page.


Testimony of my eyes

The testimony of my eyes concerning you, my love
Your love is like spring showers that quench the thirsty earth
From which the flowers bloom and fill the heart with mirth
Eyes like endless oceans to the voyager in me
to make the journey through them could take eternity.
The scarlet of your blush commands my heart to rush
and the nature of your smile is of quite another style.

   For to me, your love is the gardens of Shalimar, give to
   me the flowers thereof.
   And above other women you rise, like the terraces of Bontoc,
   whose splendour you rival,
   In your form the graceful curves of the sementras of Bali.
   In your gait the spring of the Arabian gazelle.

And your ruby red lips are like honey sweet dips
Your hair -- the proud mane of the mare.
Dark piercing eyes, make me realize, you're the one
that I've searched for through all of the lies
Model of honour and high dignity
You're the woman of women
My eyes' testimony

Paul Kekai Manansala


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Simbang Gabi

Pasko na naman
Muli nating ipinagdiriwang
Ang kaugaliang ating kinagisnan
Simbang Gabi !

Malayo man tayo
Sa bayang sinilangan,
Ang mga ala-ala natin
Ay nasa ibayong karagatan.

Minsan pa nating nauulinig
Tunog ng kampana,
Sa lumang simbahan.
Banda'y lumilibot sa boong bayan,
Tumututog, mga tao'y
Ginigising sa higaan.

Madaling -araw pa lamang,
Ang haring araw ay di pa
Sumisilip sa Silangan
Nguit ang mga tao
Ay patungo na sa simbahan.

Nang matapos na ang misa
Manga tao'y naglabasan na,
Namimili ng puto, suman at bibingka,
Sa mga tindahan sa kalsada.
Merong puto-bungbong,
Merong puto maya,
Putong-puti at maja blanka.
Mabangong pinipig at suman sa liihya.

Bata't matanda ay pauwina,
Bawa't isa'y may bitbit-
Na pasaluboing sa mga
Naiwan sa bahay na tulog pa.

Bawa't bahay na madaanan nila,
Ay may nagsabit-sabit na parol
Na pagkay gaganda!
May puti, may lungtian,
At kay ririkit na pula.

Namamanaag na ang Haring Araw
Nangag sitilaok na ang mga Tandang,
Sa may puno ng hagdanan,
Ang iba'y nagbalik sa higaan,
Ang iba namay nangag pasyalan.

Tayo ay magpasalamat sa Poong maykapal, Tayo ay nakapagdiriwang ng Simbang Gabi,
Kahit malayo sa mga mahal sa buhay,
Na nasa Pilipinas, ating Inang Bayan!

Nene Estrada

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~Love is a Two-Way Street~

I will be there to comfort you,
whenever you want me to.
If I am falling,
would you let me die?
If I am crying,
would you dry my eye?
Is it your turn?
I'm only human to yearn.
I am there to give you the same.
The love in my heart is an eternal flame,
that will not cease to keep you warm,
to protect you from Winter's harm.
Will you shelter me,
when the rain begins to fall?
Will you pick me up,
so I can stand tall?
Love is a two-way street,
where two strangers meet
and fall in love,
come together like hand and glove.
Be faithful to one another.
Love no other.
Two halves of a whole,
I give you my all-
my heart and soul.

               Randy Villanueva  

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Valentine Question

by:Alexei Agdigos

The myst in my eyes,
caused by an overwhelming surprise.
Caught by the beauty before me,
I've fallen in love undeniably.

My head up in the skies,
experiencing new highs.
Up there my heart flies,
and moans deep sighs.
My head resting in my hand.
Whispering as you go by "Aww man."
My love grows more deeply
My heart quickly grows needy.

I dunno how to say, The best I could do is explain it this way.
Let me take a deep breath,
hopefully the tempo change will have a sudden affect.

You've managed to mezmorise me,
just by your beauty.
Your presence make my eyes grow wide,
and turn me into a schoolboy who runs and hide.
Tickled by the emotion I feel,
I still don't know if it's real.
It's just something about the auroa around you.
That makes my heart feel so tender and blue.
Making me contemplate the what if's.
Especially what if I could touch those soft, round, tender lips.
How that day would make my heart fly.
I can sit here and my love will deny.
Yet, my feelings are really true.
I probably love you.
Who wouldn't love your golden brown hair.
Making men dream of a possible affair.
As we sit and stare.
It's almost hard to bare.
Yet, I'm stepping up to the plate.
Hopefully i"m not to late.
This is the love I profess to you.
I ask your answer to be just as true.
Would you find a place in your heart for a love like mine,
and be my special Valentine?

Alexei Agdigos

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Bukas
ni Trifee Miaco
Ika-23 ng Disyembre 1997

Bukas, babatiin ang hapdi ng nakaraan upang damhin ang ibayong kirot ng kasalukuyan.

At saglit kong sisilayan ang iyong larawan na matagal nang nakaukit sa aking kaisipan.

Sa ingay ng katahimikan, madarama ang init ng luhang nangungulila.

Sa dako pa roo'y isisigaw ang sakdal tamis na mga kataga - mahal kita!

Bakit pa kaya kailangang masilayan ang umaga kung ikaw ay hindi makakasama?

At sa gitna nang kalituhan, muling magmumuni-muni.

Bukas, sana, dumating ang umaga

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A feeling in my heart;
in my mind.
So indescribeable,
So new,
So exciting,
So wonderful.
Is it love?

It can't be love.
For our fate will not let us be.
Sadness overcomes me.
My heart turns cold,
And sends overwhelming chills through me.
It can't be love,
But I know it is.

You hold me in your embrace;
  so warm,
     so comfortable.
You take me on journeys,
That's only wonderful with you,
I feel it's another world.
It is...
The world that fate is no longer cruel.

We sit and stare in each other's eyes,
Feeling the passion we do not have for each other,
Searching the deepness within each other,
that we can not know.
We speak of the future,
And everything dear to us.
Things you tell me remind me this is not love.

You speak of
The one you have -  speaking so fondly;
  who gives you a special feeling in your heart - in your mind
   so indescribable,
    so new
     so exciting,
      so wonderful.

 And you tell me it is love.
 Her and I do not share the same name.
 So now, you can answer my question...
 Is it love?
                                        -MelissaGrace Villegas
                                       


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One Morning


The glimmer of gold
at the end of the night
with patches of mist gliding along
the gentle ripples, on the face of the sea

the soothing hum of the night
transforming gently
to the sound of life anew
stirring creatures from restful journeys...

then the herald streaks through the sky
magnificent wings outstreched
pointing to the east, and to the west

a swirling in the sea
bringing up something in the spinning mist.

Akin to all the mysteries in the deep
-- the new sea-born

and the light of the Sun flashed strong
the day is here
and in the light the form came clear
rippling like waves in high seas

and the herald spoke her name
the breeze caressed her hair
the light entwined her body
all things began anew

and that was the day we meet,
is that right?

or maybe it was just a dream.

Paul Kekai Manansala


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This poem is dedicated to my dad's mother, my lola.

   -- John-Flor Sisante

My lola wore wooden sandals. her blood runs through the sandals, uniting with the Earth that holds her now how she held the candle before it ran out: Smooth and Gracefully like a wave that Rises before dissipating Upon the foggy beaches..... My lola was the beach That was her, Walking on the peppermint water wooden sandals in her Coarse hands.... butterfly laugh emanating from her glass,life-giving voice. A voice that pacified my father's eager restlessness in his childhood web. Lola swept his finite hair with her fingers Soft as the melted wax that descended off the eternal candle Such glorious days in Cavite! When life was showered across the bamboo fields of conquistadores... my lola wore wooden sandals. Her blood runs through the sandals uniting with the fields that held her the Earth that holds her now.

John-Flor Sisante


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"Dreaming"

Dreaming, eyes closed,
of women, of princesses,
of an old frail man I met once as a child,
of weapons and bolos,
and of shapes, circles within circles, triangles,
of jungles, of Gundar in Samar,
where the blind Princess Josephine is from,
but one one remembers her...

but I remember.
I remember
eyes closed yet open
the third eye opening to God,
Bathala.
Images of people and places
somehow connected, meeting
at a place within me, the crossroads.
Where do they lead?
Where do they go?

the rhythm, do you feel it?
No.

Unaware, deaf to the sounds,
wait!
On the verge of it, sensing
it... no, that's not it.
Help me, woman warrior,
Mandirigmang babae, tulungan po ako.
the rhythm, do you feel it?
No, not yet, wait!
Eyes, ears, hands straining
trying to find what I do not understand.
What is it that calls to you?
What is it that you hear, frail man?
What is it that you want from me?
with time, give it time

Touch her touch him
circles within circles
dancing in rhythm
in time walking though jungles
the ultimate test, dark
shadows, places where the moonlight
enters, knowing
of the enemy knowing
the enemy will come knowing
the demon will come knowing
the demon will appear
do not run away, you must face it.
Why did you run?
Natakot ako. I was afraid.
If you have fear, you have no faith.
The demon will follow you now.

Yes, I know. Face the demon.
Yes, Guro. Face the demon.
Halad, protection, asking Bathala
forgiveness for the blood of my enemy
for the life Bathala created and the one I may take away.
Protection from the evil that
may enter the door to mine third eye
thank you Bathala salamat po.
Orasyon, the prayer.

the rhythm, do you feel it?
The hands move quickly, then slow.
The feet move quickly, then slow.
The mind moves quickly, then slow.
shuffle, shuffle, shuffle
strike strike strike
shuffle, shuffle, shuffle
strike strike strike
shuffle, shuffle, shuffle
strike strike killing blow

I kill for others,
I defend their lives not mine.
Falling into the trance
hiding the rage
kumukulo ang dugo
the outer world a blur
a whirlwind
turning spinning
only two, only you
do you feel the rhythm?
no life no death
only hands feet and head
touch him, put your hand
on his shoulder
feel the warmth of the blood coursing
through his body as it does within you
the warmth of the blood spilling
the warmth of the blood flowing onto me
bloody, dugu-duguan.
Bathala forgive me for the blood
of the life that you created the one
that was sacrificed for mine
and the lives that I defend.
It is for them, not for me, that I
thank you Bathala salamat po.
do you feel the rhythm?
of steps of heartbeats of life
do you feel the rhythm?
do you feel the drum that beats
within you
Listen
do you feel the rhythm?
your rhythm matching the drum
you and the rhythm becoming one
you becoming the rhythm
do you feel the rhythm?
the beating of your heart
moving one with the rhythm
moving the rhythm
do you feel the rhythm?
Yes, now, I feel the rhythm.

Tell me the story again. Yes,
I've heard it before but not
from you, not from your words.
Tell me the story again the story of
your dreams of how you walk the jungle

searching for a teacher
and finding in her
Mandirigmang babae
blind princess I have never seen
who stands by the river
unmatched by any man.

Tell me the story of how you asked her
to walk her circle
woman warrior mandrigmang babae
you are my blood I walk the circle for you
for you so strong and beautiful unmatched by any man
for you for whom they always see darkness
for you for whom I always see
for you who flows like the river
for you who flows within me now.
Mandirigmang babae, magkadugo na tayo.
Women warrior, we are of one blood now.

Tell me the story of your dreams
frail man whose spirit has found new life in my own
the stories of my mother the stories of me
touch him, feel the warmth of
the blood that courses within him
as it courses within your own
frail man you come to me in my mother's stories
master of arnis master
of an art walker upon
fire you are my blood I am
part of your circle frail man
I met once as a child
I complete the circle for you.

Closed eyes dreaming
dreaming of places and people I've never seen yet so much a part of me now.
dreaming of jungles of jungles of princesses
dreaming of shapes circles within circles of triangles
dreaming of weapons and bolos
dreaming of the blind princess by the river unmatched by any man
dreaming of the old frail man I met once as a child
dreaming of me walking the circle touching the warmth
of the blood that runs within me as it runs within them.

I close my eyes and dream.

-Michelle Bautista, November 1995

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DREAMS


dreams remain as dreams
      a dream that make my
         world of fantasies...
      a dream that makes my
         mind to soar...
      a dream that makes my
         heart to joy...
      a dream that makes me
         believe...
      ...you can never be mine...

                    by:  bheng cerrudo
                    

thorns

meeting strangers with a funny smile
you got to be careful 'coz they might lie

greeting you a sweet hello with a doubt
somehow creates a mystery in your heart

you never realize that dreams are beyond reality
bruised by thorns though you don't want to be lonely

how you wish, you live in the gentle world
pretending there are no thorns along the road...

by: bheng cerrudo


ang buhay nga naman minsan
ay napakahirap maintindihan
pagsisikap na walang hanggan
ito ba'y walang katuturan?

bawat paghinga sa tuwina
ako'y nangarap at umasa


 

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