Poetographie

I always wanted my classmates
to be the first to notice me 
and greet me with their innocent smiles,
I would have wanted them to tag me
in our game called labolabo--
 
but mornings were not what I expected.
 
Every day he would wait for me like a servant.
When I rode a jeepney
he would sit beside me,
his cold fingers creeping on my back. 
 
One day he asked me,
“Would you like to come with me?
We’ll go biking,”
and I went with him
like any child.
 
We walked along the sidewalk,
his hands on my shoulders—
I felt I was protected by my loving father
until he squeezed my arm hard
and I felt a shudder in my loins
 
we sat together,
his hands
exploring and stroking
my hips;
I wanted to run
like a rookie—
stealing home

Every night I do the rumba
my hands
crawling,
feeling, caressing the flesh-
gratifying experience
to my
embittered
soul
 
I scratch my hands
unto my naked flesh
inch by inch by inch
gradually
I thrust,
I drag myself-
a heavy walking step
 
Stepping with my toe first
a box step,
side break
and underarm turn
 
I swing my hips
smoothly
and subtly
 
Quick, quick
slow
quick, quick
slow
 
I love to do it in the shadow
with the faintest glow
 
 
 
 
 

ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS

To myself, finally, you have grown and come to understand the language of images and words, freed the scarred woman in you, and become a woman warrior. Congrats, Poet!

To my parents, Mam, Pap & Mommy (who has been taking care of me for 20 years) thanks for the trust & love. I am still your most loving and pretty daughter who always cries when she gives you a card during special occasions.

To my siblings Gigi, Ejay and Tim Monching, thanks for pestering me when I’m doing my school work, most especially my Thesis. To Sissy, you are such a wonder woman, I look up to your strength as a daughter, as a sister, as a friend, and most especially as a single mom. Thanks for influencing me Sissy, you’re such a character!

To Mr. Pratik Rimal, for being one of my personal editors. You’re one of the best male friends I have ever met. I love everything about you. I am always privileged every time you include me in your poetry and essay. We may be far from each other but the language we both speak would never break us apart. I’ll make sure we’ll climb Mount Everest together, with hands interlaced. 

To Mr. Omar-Richardson Sutherland, I have not read all the latest books that you sent me. You will always be my one and only virtual Kuya who always encourages me to continue writing. I hope my poetry will reach you there in Texas and whisper to your ears that someone here in the Philippines always remembers you. Your kindness means a lot to me.

To Mr. Timothy Lantz, always remember that some Filipinas are hard-to-get. May you have a good and fruitful life with your new-found wife. Promise, I won’t throw away the European coins that you gave me.

To Burgos Family, for the help that you’ve been sharing to our family, most especially to Lolo Ben who supported me partly with my college education. The summer I had at UP Diliman was totally great and the laptop that you gave me really helped me in my writing life and my survival in the course.

To Oguis Family for adopting me during weekends. Thanks for becoming my second family. We are not related in blood but still you consider me as one of your children. If not because of you, I won’t be able to write the first paragraph for my preface. I owe you a lot, Tito and Tita.

To the Bilibid Girls Rea Gene “Santong Kabayo” Remegio ,April Mae “Bagong Salta” Domingo, Andre Karen “Warden” Dela Cerna, Joice Maricar “Boy Cobra” Buyco, and Hanna Louise “Attorney” Raquedan, thanks for the friendship and the night-outs, secrets, and the unforgettable GenSan-slash-hometown adventures. Hail to all Generals!

To Arvi Karisse Regalado . You will always be my best board mate and that’s non- negotiable. Thanks for your willingness and your patience when I ask you to write and edit my works. Thanks for dancing my poem, Rumba, you really were spectacular.

To Ate Beauxy Auxtero for patiently editing my third story in Children’s Literature.

P.S Tama jud ka te, musubmit na jud ko ug papers ON TIME.

To Maureen Devorah Ronquillo for the English translations. Thanks for  allotting your precious time in translating my precious talks. It was a job well done!

To my batch mates Airo, Agnes, Allen, Arv, Clyde, Jef, Josh, Joy, Kaeos, Kiara, Klang, Krisza, Loloi, Lyda, Marius, Mel, Mershi, Mike, Milovy, Nikki, Rij, Rr, Sel, our Lawiswis moments, Baktas moments, and our Theatre productions will always be remembered. I’m sure that if not now, we could still give justice to those whose works we never have read. With humble hearts, we bow to our literary giants.

To Prof. Antonino de Veyra, Prof. Araceli Dans Lee, Prof. Genevieve Jorolan-Quintero, Ms. Jean Claire Dy, Mr. John Bengan, Prof. Ricardo de Ungria and Prof. Timothy Montes, thanks for inspiring me to write. I will take note of the helpful criticisms that you gave me. I’ve learned a lot in the course. Indeed, BA English made me a better person!           

To my adviser, Prof. Jhoanna Lynn “Goddess” Cruz for being so patient in editing my thesis. You’ve been a great adviser even before when we first met you in our Playwriting class. Thanks for your professionalism and dedication in teaching, and most especially in writing. You have become my inspiration in my musings. I won’t forget what you once told me, “stand by the integrity of your work.” I will surely miss you, dear Penelope.                   P.S Agyaman nac amin launay Ma’am!

To my best buddies-slash- wild women -slash-in-denial feminists, Lyda, Josh, Joy, and Krisza. For the secrets, rants, and personal impediments we cried about over bottles of wine and bags of chips. Thanks for the afternoon-siopao-sessions, for the laughter and sarcasms and for being there when I needed company. Cheers, women!

To all the men who were once a part of my life, thank you.

To my one and only best friend Georgianna Kae Oguis, who never gets tired of reading my poems and my self-indulgent writings. I will always be your no. 1 critic. Thank you for the happiness and pain that we experienced together. I am now the kind of woman you wanted me to be. I will continue to write until my pen will stop bleeding. May we continue to be best friends, write more poetry, and live together, forever.

To my Apollo and my Aphrodite thanks for possessing me during those nights when I called out your names in the enveloping absence. Thank you for heeding my cries and letting my pen bleed until the break of dawn. The two of you never failed me. Promise, I’ll meet you in Mt. Olympus and perform Bacchanalia.

And To Lord God for giving me this skill in writing. I hope I didn’t fail you, I am freer now and have become a fearless and stronger woman.                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                          

ACKNOWLEDGMENTS

To myself, finally, you had grown and come to understand the language of images and words freed the scarred woman in you and became the strongest woman warrior one could ever be. Congrats, Poet!

To my parents, Mam, Pap & Mommy (who has been taking care of me for 20 years) thanks for the trust & love. I am still your most loving and pretty daughter who always cries when she gives you a card during special occasions.

To my siblings Gigi, Ejay and Tim Monching, Thanks for pestering me when I’m doing my school works, most especially my Thesis. To sissy, you are such a wonder woman, I look up to your strength as a daughter, as a sister, as a friend and most especially as a single Mom. Thanks for influencing me sissy, you’re such a character!

To Mr. Timothy Lantz, always remember that some Filipinas are hard-to-get. May you have a good and fruitful life with your new-found wife. Promise, I won’t throw away the European coins that you gave me.

To Mr. Omar-Richardson Sutherland, I have not read all the latest books that you sent me. You will always be my one and only virtual Kuya who always encourages me to continue writing. I hope my poetry will reach you there in Texas and whisper to your ears that someone here in the Philippines always remembers you. Your kindness means a lot to me.

To Mr. Pratik Rimal, for being one of my personal editors. You’re one of the best male friends I have ever met. I love everything about you. I am always privileged every time you include me in your poetry and essay. We may be far from each other but the language we both speak would never break us apart. I’ll make sure, we’ll climb Mount Everest together, with hands interlaced.  

To Burgos Family, for the help that you’ve been sharing to our family, most especially to Lolo Ben who supported me partly with my college education. The summer I had at UP Diliman was totally great and the laptop that you gave me really helped me in my writing life and my survival in the course.

To Oguis Family for adopting me during weekends. Thanks for becoming my second family. We are not related in blood but still you consider me as one of your children. If not because of you, I won’t be able to write the first paragraph for my preface. I owe you a lot Tito and Tita.

To Arvi Karisse Regalado . You will always be my best board mate and that’s un negotiable. Thanks for your willingness and your patience when I ask you to write and edit my works. Thanks for dancing my poem, Rumba, you really were masturbatory. 

To the Bilibid Girls Rea Gene “Santong Kabayo” Remegio ,April Mae “Bagong Salta” Domingo, Andre Karen “Warden” Dela Cerna, Joice Maricar “Boy Cobra” Buyco and Hanna Louise “Attorney” Raquedan thanks for the friendship and the night-outs, secrets and the unforgettable GenSan-slash-hometown adventures. Hail to all Generals!

To my batch mates Airo, Agnes, Allen, Arv, Clyde, Jef, Josh, Joy, Kaeos, Kiara, Klang, Krisza, Loloi, Lyda, Marius, Mel, Mershi, Mike, Milovy, Nikki, Rij, Rr, Sel, our Lawiswis moments, Baktas moments and our Theatre productions will always be remembered. I’m sure that if not now, we could still give justice to those whose works we never have read. With humble hearts, we bow to our literary giants.

To Prof. Antonino de Veyra, Prof. Araceli Dans Lee, Prof. Genevieve Jorolan-Quintero, Ms. Jean Claire Dy, Prof. Jhoanna Lynn Cruz-Daliling, Mr. John Bengan, Prof. Ricardo de Ungria and Prof. Timothy Montes, thanks for inspiring me to write. I will take note of the helpful criticisms that you taught me. I’ve learned a lot in the course. Indeed, BA English made me a better person!           

To my best buddies-slash- wild women –slash-in-denial feminists, Lyda, Josh, Joy and Krisza. For the secrets, rants, and personal impediments we cried over bottles of wine and bags of chips. Thanks for the afternoon-siopao-sessions, for the laughter and sarcasms and for being there when I needed a company. Cheers, women!

To my adviser, Prof. Jhoanna Lynn “Goddess” Cruz for being so patient in editing my thesis. You’ve been a great adviser even before we first met (Playwriting class). Thanks for your professionalism and dedication in teaching and most especially in writing. You have become my inspiration in my musings. I won’t forget what you once told me, “stand for the integrity of your work”. I will surely miss you, dear Penelope.

To all the men who were once became a part of my life, thank you for having me.

To my one and only best friend Georgianna Kae Oguis, who never gets tired of reading my poems and my self-indulged writings. I will always be your no. one critic. Thank you for the happiness and pain that we experienced together. I am now the kind of woman who you wanted me to be. I will continue to write until my pen will stop bleeding. May we continue to be best friends, write more poetry and live together, forever.

To my Apollo and my Aphrodite thanks for possessing me during those nights when I called out your names in the enveloping absence. Thank you for heeding my cries and letting my pen bleed up until the break of dawn. The two of you never failed me. Promise, I’ll soon meet you in Mt. Olympus and let’s perform Bacchanalia.

And To Lord God for giving me this skill in writing, now I’m capable to write and impart what I’ve learned. I hope I didn’t fail you, I am freer now and had become a fearless and stronger woman. 

I always wanted my classmates
be the first to notice me 
and greet me with their innocent smiles,
I would have wanted them to tag me
in our game called alotonay--
but mornings were not what I expected.
 
Every morning he would wait for me like a servant
When I rode a jeepney
he would sit beside me-
his cold fingers creeping on my back. 
 
 
One day he asked me,
“would you like to come with me?
It's just a stone’s throw away from school, dear child,”
and so I agreed and went with him.
 
We walked along the sidewalk,
his hands on my shoulders
I felt I was protected by my loving father
until he squeezed my arm
feeling like I was consumed
 
we sat together
his hands
exploring and stroking
my hips
which felt like
presses from his lips.

staring at the blank page
creating contours
of words,
imagining images
grasping, getting
a touch of a thought
 
blue merges
with the light above me
creating a color
and a faded fermata
 
scratch the savages
of guilt grudging
somewhere, sober
in its silent sanctuary
of spaces
and horizontal lines,
 
breaking bones
crunchy carcass
of dead syllables
now, knock
slide beneath the boundary
of leaping letters
 
wail, words, wail
deep, dark and screaming
sail, sail
fading beauty
painting the dark
sky of pain
 
lead me
possess me in your name
gather my meandering madness
at the center of the page
as you encircle,
                   (caging)
me in a poem
 
 

just last night i went to a coffin maker
to ask for a casket reservation,
he asked me the size i would prefer
i chose to have some adjustments,

there i envisioned myself
lying inside my casket,
wearing mother's white Sunday dress
people peeking at me,
hearing their eulogy
and cold teardrops hitting the casket's glass

there i envisioned myself
an eternal rest
freed from his arm and fist

there i envisioned myself
becoming my own Cinderella when i’m dead
beautiful and adored
with red lipstick
concealing the scar
on my lower lip

there i had my lovely little things:

pin cushion,
empty bottle of perfume,
a wilted white rose,
and a Nuremberg egg
clock pendant
still
keeping
time


Undertow

He was sitting on a white chair
in a deserted room on midday
I stood behind him
and we witnessed the crisp leaves falling
from an old mango tree outside-
the cold wind gently brushed our bodies

he lifted his right arm
pulled my hands to his chest,
my fingers were trembling
as though they were wilted stems
i tried to undo his grip-
but he was strong ,
his arms wrapped around me vise-like
and his kisses-
engulfing, devouring, hungry

he pushed me on the white wall,
his hands on my breasts as he hooked me,

as though angry waves were penetrating,
biting the white shore and recoiling
rush,
smash,
dash,
and crash

I gathered myself
in a cold embrace

his haunting shadows,
his breath echoing off the wall-

there were my silent tears,
a crumpled 500 peso bill,
and a crimson dot on the floor