M A K A T A
July 2001
Issue No.7

BOARDROOMS In endless boardrooms built up in columns on tiers of cities, red-faced people with small names bicker with faceless opponents, but mostly amongst themselves, over colours, and cows to be eaten. All this frustrates me no end, wastes precious moments of poetry. And I too am red-faced and sour, caught up in bickering over colours and cows, and how best to sell their faceless flesh. DELICIOUS It was the only tool I could find, so I spread out newspapers on my parquetry flooring, sat cross-legged with my back against the heater (it was winter, but Sydney style), and picked up the screw-driver. It was the only way I could be comfortable. And I knew, with secret smile, that it would be messy and Bohemian, decadent. So I poured the wine, savoured that slosh so particular to white, and lay my soft hands on a tight shell. She was sandy, and petulant, reluctant to permit my gross intrusion, but the screwdriver did its rough work, and the first oyster of two dozen was laid bare, more thrilling than a million pearls as it slipped down my pinked and eager gullet. About the Author Averil Bones lives in Sydney, Australia. She lists nature, and the ocean in particular, amongst her greatest influences, and spends her leisure time counting her blessings, trying to maintain an active interest in environmental matters.   Subsistence Winds, Exalt the winds, Kiss them and let yourself be. Die. Exalt what you have kissed, That come and go and, Die as it betrays your innate soul. Fire, Love the fire, Adore and play it. Fade. Love what you have delighted And fade away as flames consumes The spared romance in you. Earth, The sanctified earth, The divined earth. Suffer. Step amongst the filthy soils Of blasphemous promises and hypocrisy of deities Until you're hurt from your faith of the bewildered truth. Water Drink water, Glorify water. Desiccate. Dry up! Your soul subsist The protesting rivers of sorrow and wither your hopes And dreams to make way for cosmic delusions Life Wind, Earth, Fire, Water. My lethargic verve Treads into the deep burrow of my nightmares. I still cry. Bitterly Leaving The river rests so lone and free As my soul swims towards the sea. Pray that you'll be my saving grace To make me turn back to our place. Soon I'll leave and linger away. Shall all thoughts and memories stay? Soon I'll loose my soul to fly. Dreams will drift with me in the sky. So wither not those weeping eyes, For time has spent my last goodbyes. And bury now our kisses sweet As coldness lulls the fate I'll meet. Tomorrow's My Birthday Tomorrow's my birthday. There will be a soirée for a sable sojourn, sardonic smiles, saturated souls, sanctified sluts, sexual shadow of shame, serene sepulchre of Satan's serenades, saccharine Sabbath of sadness, snide sex slaves to smother, suicides of sobbing sodomites, sombre and solemn slumber of sanity, sophistries of sore sorcery, speechless shows of splendid squalls and sorrow, suppressed and spurious sixteen summers, and sociable solitude. I've invited Mistress Death To contemplate my abhorrent wishes While they burn in the candles And disappear with the reek as They swim in reality's humid Space and dimension And exist with depressed eternity. About the Author Charles Carpio is a 16-year old student from Florence, Italy.   Panahon Ko, Panahon Mo nang minsan ako'y mapunta sa lugar na Maynila biglang bumalik sa aking gunita ang panahong nagdaan panahon ng aking kabaataan na sadyang kay saya at isang maayos, tahimik, at malinis na kapaligiran. maraming ala-ala ang hindi makakalimutan kasama ang barkada sa lahat ng lakwatsa kahit kapos ang pera sa bulsa ay tuloy ang ligaya nakakalimutan ang bilin ni ina na umuwi ng maaga. parang kailan lang ang panahong ako ay bata sabay sa aking pagtanda ang pagtanda ng nakagisnan. lungkot ang nadarama sa nakikitang pagbabago ala-ala na lang ang natira sa panahong binago. nagkalat ang batang lansangan kaliwa't kanan masikip na kalsada dahil sa dami ng sasakyan basura'y di malaman kung saan ang paglalagyan wala ka ng malanghap na sariwang hanging amihan. pag sapit ng dilim ay takot ang madarama hindi mo malaman kung may panganib na nakaamba pagsakay sa sasakyan maaaring holdap ang kalaban pagbaba naman ay snatcher ang makasalamuha. saan nga ba patungo ang ganitong sistema ano pa ba ang laan sa susunod na kabataan wala ng kaayusan at ligtas na gagalawan wala na bang makitang solusyon upang maisalba. sa aking pananaw sa katulad kong patanda ito ay magmumula sa bawat isang mamamayan malasakit na lang ang ibigay higit ng kabataan wala ng tutulong kung hindi tayo-tayo na lang di ba? About the Author Floriza C. Mejia is from Calumpang, Marikina City, Philippines   Paslit bughaw na langit, dumilim sa isang saglit. sampaguitang bitbit ng batang paslit. binatang nagpupumilit sumabit sa rumaragasang dyip. "para, mama. dito na lang," sabi sa kanta. para, mama -- sabi ng aleng nais bumaba. usok ng tambutso, fishball sa kanto, panay-panay na busina ng nasa likod mo. ah, ang ulan sa buwan ng hulyo. yung ale, binitbit ang sapatos niya... lulusong sa baha sa gitna ng espana. paulit-ulit sa isipan ko, tumbang preso, patintero, piko jack en poy, halihalihoy! ang gobyerno, patuloy pa rin tayong inuunggoy! MGA BUGOY! tuloy... kailangan pang lumisan ng inakay sa kanyang kinalalagyan, patuloy na hinahanap sagot sa pangangailangan. tulad ng paslit, sampaguita'y bitbit, patakbu-takbo, patawid-tawid nagpupumilit ituwid itama -- kapalarang naghihintay sa kanya. May 28, 2001 About the Author Born and raised in Quezon City, Philippines, Katrina Rebueno now resides in California   The Vow Abjure your irrevocable fate, Learn to decipher the ancient language, Discover lucidity in the visage of an image Because the visions that reel in your mind And disturb your sleep Before the dreams are cast asunder For pained thoughts beget reality. Only the fearless who run without fainting Know life and cannot forget, Overcoming a fascination with death, The deliverer. God, enthroned in paradise Watches in dismay---foolish mankind Wreak havoc, destroying itself Needlessly, The insane summer drools like an idiot That cries and will not be comforted, Sensing danger like a child Curious about the leaping sparks, The orange flames of the fire, Dancing as if possessed, Smoke and bitter ash, Covenant of the witness, Remembering. © Neil Ray   Life After Love There's always life after love When the heart stops beating for a while When these weary eyes sparkle from tears When all love songs seem to be sad When nights are cold and lonely When thinking of you seems to be difficult When good times turn bitter and sour There's always life after love When touching you is the only thing I could imagine When the phone rings and you are not there When I wake up and you're not the first light When everything seems to stop evolving When realizing it's finally over There's always life after love When all of these will finally come to an end When I will lay myself to rest When I close my eyes and wake up no more When our brief encounter was just an incident For sure, there's always life and love after death 19June2001 Happy Birthday Today is your special day See how you've grown Back then you're still in my womb A small angel waiting to be born I sang to you songs of joy Songs of love I hardly knew I hummed them just for you Lullabies as you closed your eyes Catching your breath As I gently blew that tiny nose Air full of affection See how my reflection Look at you now, my dear Can you still remember The songs I used to sing? Caressing your inner being Now that you've grown Each birthday, a bit of goodbye Each passing year, a kiss of adieu How I wish you're still my little you Happy Birthday! 19August2000 Notes: The poem "happy birthday" will be published in a poetry anthology called "The Silence Within" and it will also be included in the three-cd collection, "The Sound of Poetry"... both by the International Library of Poets... this poem is will be also included in the book called "2001-a poetic odyssey" by the Famous Poets Society... it entered as a semi-finalist in both competions sponsored by both poetry groups. About the Author Ronnie Ocate is one of the in-house poets of Makata. Visit own website at www.geocities.com/katz649 to read more of his works. My Innocent Mind My Innocent Mind is laden with stars that glitter like Christmas lights and rainbows that sing and dance. I can transcend eternity through the magic of your smile through the strings of your lyre I can go higher than the evening star to embrace the Great Spirit and ask him to protect my childhood dreams keep my rainbows dancing in its perfect rhythm and let my sandcastles stand erect and firm against the winds of change. Listening To The Morning Rain Listening to the morning rain that tip taps gently at my window paneand the cycle guard aquarium filter that sounds like the flow of the river. I hear the promise of the approaching spring when flowers bloom again. I hear your voice that soothes my pain away I hear the ringing of the temple bells from another lifetime and another space I hear my ruby fire fingernails growing. Listening, I hear life's promises of perpetual joys coming to me like a festival of lights after a long and lonely night. About the Author Shirley Cahayom is from OceanView Ave. Brooklyn, New York makata 2001 january february march april may june july august september october nov-dec