hapunan sa panahon ng ika-3 linggo ng adbiento

ni jason k. dy, sj

nalanghap ko
sa bawat paghigop
ng mainit na sabaw
ng tinolang manok

ang amoy-bulok na paang
namimilipit sa paglalakad
para maibahagi’t maihatid
ang magandang balita.

ninamnam ko
sa bawat tutong
ng pritong isda’t
ng kaning sinangag

ang kilay-na-walang-pagitan
sa paghahanda’t pag-iisip
ng mahahain bawat kainan

na may kalakip
na di-mapigilang panginginig
ng kamay mai-alay
lamang ang pagkain
na nagbibigay lusog
at buhay.

napawi ang pait
ng ampalayang nabara
sa aking lalamunan
sa pag-inom ng tubig
na malamig

kasabay ang di-napapagod
na ngiti na bumabati,
kumikiliti sa pagitan
ng bawat kuwento,
sa bawat homilya.

nahati sa pira-pirasong
kuwadrado ang tsokolateng
bukol-bukol ng mani’t pasas

sa bawat pagputol
ng kukong nakalimutang gupitin
o sinadyang pinapahaba—
para banal na dugo’t laman
ay mabusising maihati’t maisubo
sa kaluluwang gutom—
para mabigyan lahat
ang mga dilang naglalaway.

nakinig ako
sa kabila ng pamaskong tugtugin
sa lumang radyo

ang ulat ng malabong mata
ukol sa mga plano
ng salu-salo
sa pamantasan
ngayong pasko
na iniulat sa pagitan
ng pagkalmot ng kanyang ulo’t leeg.

nakaupo kaming lahat
sa apat na parihabang hapag-kainan
na ang dulo’y pinagdikit
para makabuo ng malaking kuwadro
na pinapaikutan ng mga luntiang dahong plastik
na may mumunting, nagkakapit-bisig
na mga makulay na ilaw—
umaandap-andap,
kumukurap-kurap,
kumikuti-kutitap,
umaaligid-aligid
sa sabsaban gawa
ng dahong tuyo’t bulak
na sinusulyapan ng kanilang mga mata
sa bawat higop, subo’t nguya
sa biyaya ng kanilang pagtanda.

nakatabi ko
ang mabigat na beywang
na magaang naka-upo
pagkatapos magkuwentong
nakatayo sa koleheyong mag-aaral
ukol sa pagdating
ng tatlong mago,
di-mabilang na pastol at anghel,
isang birhen at kanyang asawa,
isang bituin,
nag-iisang sanggol
sa sabsaban
habang masayang nilalasap nito
ang bawat kutsarita
ng hiniwang hinog na mangga
na nalulunod sa gatas
at tamis.

at nabusog
ako.


ilang araw bago dumating ang pasko 2004
sa pamantasan ng ateneo de zamboanga

Jason Dy, SJ is a first year Theology student. Jason is into graphic design, painting and collage. He is a poet and a fiction writer for children. You may want to look at some of Jason's works featured in his own blog batikbatiknakariktan.blogspot.com. This poem won second place at the Jesuit Christmas Literary Contest last year.

The Call of the King

This is how it’s going to be.
Come closer then, and listen very well,
if you say you want to follow Me.

Conquest of the whole world and all my enemies
shall come, let the hours tell.
This is how it’s going to be.

Every land, every king will be on their knees
before me. In your soul, faith in my words must swell
if you say you want to follow Me.

You will be on my right hand as we feast on my glory
amidst crying trumpets and triumphant yells.
Surely, this is how it’s going to be.

But before it all happens, you must be ready
to stay with me and guard the place where I dwell
if you say you want to follow Me.

Until you perish, for believe me
Everyone who went before you died and fell
For this is how it shall always be.
Will you still want to follow Me?

(an attempt at making a villanelle. done in 2003)

Ryan Echevarria, SJ aka "Popoy" is an active advocate of peace and justice in the country. He is a full time member of the Simbahang Lingkod ng Bayan, an organization of priests, religious and seminarians advocating the same cause. Ryan gives talks and facilitates seminar on Combatting Corruption, Good Governance, Voters' Education and the National Situationer. He maintains a blog, tatlongtala.blogspot.com discussing issues on politics and the Philippine society. Ryan is finishing his Philosophical studies.

Sanayan Lang Ang Pagpatay

(Para sa sektor nating pumapatay ng tao)

ni Paring Bert Alejo, SJ

Pagpatay ng tao? Sanayan lang 'yan pare.
Parang sa butiki. Sa una siyempre
Ikaw'y nangingimi. Hindi mo masikmurang
Tiradurin o hampasing tulad ng ipis o lamok
Pagkat para bang lagi 'yang nakadapo
Sa noo ng santo sa altar
At tila may tinig na nagsasabing
Bawal bawal bawal 'yang pumatay.
Subalit tulad lang ng maraming bagay
Ang pagpatay ay natututuhan din kung magtitiyaga
Kang makinig sa may higit na karanasan.
Nakuha ko sa tiyuhin ko kung paanong balibagin ng tsinelas
O pilantikin ng lampin ang nakatitig na butiki sa aming kisame
At kapag nalaglag na't nagkikikisay sa sahig
Ay agad ipitin nang hindi makapuslit
Habang dahan-dahang tinitipon ang buong bigat
Sa isang paang nakatingkayad: sabay bagsak.

Magandang pagsasanay ito sapagkat
Hindi mo nakikita, naririnig lamang na lumalangutngot
Ang buo't bungo ng lintik na butiking hindi na makahalutiktik.
(kung sa bagay, kilabot din 'yan sa mga gamu-gamo.)
Nang magtagal-tagal ay naging malikhain na rin
Ang aking mga kamay sa pagdukit ng mata,
Pagbleyd ng paa, pagpisa ng itlog sa loob ng tiyan
Hanggang mamilipit 'yang parang nasa ibabaw ng baga.
O kung panahon ng Pasko't maraming paputok
Maingat kong sinusubuan 'yan ng rebentador
Upang sa pagsabog ay magpaalaman ang nguso at buntot.
(Ang hindi ko lamang maintindihan ay kung bakit
Patuloy pa rin 'yang nadaragdagan.)

Kaya't ang pagpatay ay nakasasawa rin kung minsan.
Mabuti na lamang at nakaluluwag ng loob
Ang pinto at bintanang kahit hindi mo sinasadya
At may paraan ng pagpuksa ng buhay.
Ganyang lang talaga ang pagpatay:
Kung hindi ako ay iba naman ang babanat;
Kung hindi ngayon ay sa iba namang oras.
Subalit ang higit na nagbibigay sa akin ng lakas ng loob
Ay ang malalim nating pagsasamahan:
Habang ako'y pumapatay, kayo nama'y nanonood.

Fr. Albert Alejo, SJ or Paring Bert as he would like himself to be called, started writing poems when he was a novice. His experiences with the urban poor, factory workers, prisoners and the lumads and Muslims are his inspiration for writing poems. He is also an acclaimed author of books on Mindanao, Filipino philosophy and of various articles on the environment and culture. Presently, he is the National Director of Ehem, an anti-corruption advocacy and Director of Mindanawon, a Mindanao-focused NGO and research group. This poem was taken from an anthology of his poems collected and published into a book of the same title.

Habagat

ni Sch. Ogie S. Cabayao, SJ

isang hipo mo lang
tumatayo na
ang mga balahibo ko

paano na kaya kung
hawakan mo na ako
sa mga parteng
madaling manginig,

at yapusin
ng iyong mga brasong
kay hirap kalasin
kahit magwala pa ako ,

o pupugin
ng mga halik mong
padampi-dampi
sa mga lugar na nakakikiliti?

tigilan mo na muna;
hayaan mo muna
akong makapagbihis,
hindi ko kaya
ang init ng iyong lamig.

Ogie is now a Regent at Ateneo de Zamboanga University where he teaches Philosophy. He is an avid mountain climber and nature lover. He regularly plays badminton with mission partner Sch. Richard Ella, SJ. This poem was written four years ago when Ogie was still a Junior.

Love Us Out Of Sin

by Fr. Gabriel L. Lamug-Nanawa

I.

Metal rusts, hard rocks crumble.
And innocent water droplets
Carve a painful intrusion.
Even tall Acacia trees die,
They dry up and crash down.

This world is full of holes,
Full of hurt and unbearable woes.
Sin feeds on every man, woman, and child.
Gnawing, munching, trying
Persistently till they end up dying.

The salesman Satan succeeds
In vending possessions, power, and pride.
He lures us slowly, yet constantly
Then grabs us by the throat
And lodges his filthy fingers firmly around our
hearts.

II.

Yet every year we are invited
During this season that we be reminded
That in the midst of all sin and suffering
There is a God who will not cease loving
Every man, woman, and child.

Within our pitiful lot love lives.
And neither the strongest pain,
Nor the darkest evil
Can smother the burning flame
Of God's irrepressible love.

For God's love is steadfast,
Steadfast unto death.
But not like a formidable wall,
Tall, thick, old, rough, moss-laden,
Stale, lifeless, and cobweb-covered.

III.

His is love which
Has every reason to stop but doesn't.
His is the love which makes
The falcon fly fearlessly
Against the strong surging wind.

It is the candle's flicker
Which pushes against the darkness
Which continually seeks to envelope it.
It is the God who chose to be
Born of a Virgin from Galilee.

You freely chose to come
Into our frail and fragile world;
In a cold, damp manger.
You embraced our hurting humanity,
And let us gaze at your Divinity.

This poem was written in 1996 by Fr. Gabby when he was still a Junior Scholastic. It won for him Second Prize at the Jesuit Christmas Literary Contest. Fr. Gabby is now missioned to Banteay Prieb in Cambodia together with Scholastic Regent, Nono Ordonez.

Taming the Passion Within

Obsession conquers
Obsession subsides
Obsession bursts

Passion energizes
Passion restricts
Passion contains

Love nurtures
Love bequeaths
Love integrates

by Jeffrey U. Pioquinto, SJ


Jeff is a Brother in the Society of Jesus
For more information on the Brotherhood please visit his blog site
by clicking his name

If By Chance

If by chance you'll capture my sight
My eyes would remain focused
In the magic of your smile.

If by chance you'll read my thoughts,
My mind would think of no one
Except you and our happy
Moments together.

If by chance you'll yearn for my touch,
The warmness and gentleness of it
Would be felt all day and night.

If by chance your lip touches mine,
It would only whisper the
Softness of your name.

If by chance you get hold of my heart,
It would love no one except
You until the end.

…if by chance…

by Sch. Neupito Saicon Jr., S.J.

Isang Hibla

Makita ko lamang ang kapirasong
        tinapay
        na sadyang hindi kinain, tiyak akong
inipit
        mo na ang sinulid sa iyong pintuan.

Saan ka ba tutungo, padre?

Marahil kasalukuyan kang naglalakbay sa mga
    kaharian ng limampung prinsesa, o kaya naman
    sa isang luntiang kagubatan ng mga engkato.
May nakapagkwento na kasama mo daw si Elvis
    na nagkakaraoke sa isang townhouse sa probinsya,
    at minsang daw nakasayaw mo si Maria Makiling sa cha-cha.

Ang alam ko lang, pagsapit ng alas-otso
yumayao ka at nawawala.
At kung narooon muli
      ang kapirasong tinapay
at nakaipit muli
      ang hibla sa iyong pintuan
batid kong babalik ka
at maglalakbay sa isang panibagong umaga.

Buhay

(Para sa isang tamad)

Tumatalas ang
Pagkaaninag ko sa kaniya
Habang ako'y
Nakahiga
Naghihintay sa kanyang paglapit.
Pananatili
Pinaliligaya ako habang
Dahan-dahan niyang inilalantad ang
Kanyang sarili. Naghuhubad, nagiging madali.

Hinihintay lumapit, magkalapat ang
Aming mga katawan, maramdaman
Siya.

"Halika, dalian mo…"

"Halika na.."

"Pssst!"

Ayaw lumapit.

Lalapitan ko.
Pipigilan ko, baka magbihis ulit.
Babangon ba ako?
Nakakatamad.
Hahayaan na lang.

Maghihintay
Na lamang ako...

Umalis kung aalis.

by Sch. Ryan Christian Echevarria, Philo 2

Draw Water From The Wellspring of Your Pain

(For those who have been broken by love and vowed not to love again)

Do not be afraid to draw water from the wellspring of your pain
For you may find it bitter but its bitterness does not kill
Gulp it like a deer to quench the parched landscape of your soul
And to gladden your heart so toughened by indifference

For you have been used to drinking what is sweet
That you have forgotten that it is a delusion to believe
That life and the world is nothing but a garden of roses
Where thorn and mournful experiences never exist

Do not hesitate to veer away from the trodden path
If getting where you want to be and not someone else's
Is the price of getting lost in a dark and prickly wood
To emerge not unscathed but wounded by Wisdom

For you have seen so many people led astray by following
What they thought was the right and only way
Until they found out much to their woeful regret
That they let themselves be and have been deceived

Do not be afraid of splattering mud on your lofty ideas
For it is in walking through the muck that we discover
How much more filthy it is to have pure thoughts
That have never been pitted against the vagaries of time

For you yourself have been witness to many a man's genuis
That led to the betterment of not one single soul or creature
But framed like a portrait for all people to see and admire
Which they can never take home nor show to their children

Do not give up on Love even if you're hurting like hell inside
Because you'll find Heaven an unbearable place to live
If you've thrown your heart away like a losing deck of cards
When you have bet and lost against what you called love

For many a man like you have made their wager and lost
And thought it was the end of the cruel and taunting world
When all along they've yet to realize, that he who loves and loves
Despite the pain is the one who has truly gained--Everything.


Thanks to Paring Bert for the two lines here that served as my inspiration.

sonoftheprodigal

Simulain

Paano ba magsulat?
Nagsisimula ba sa isang kaisipan?
O baka naman mula sa panaginip na hindi malimutan?
Baka kaya sa mga damdaming nangangating magparinig
unti-unting ipinalalantad ng lapis kong Mongol?
O kaya hinuhugot mula sa kailaliman ng puso, mga pagkalugmok, pagkamuhi,
kaaliwan, galak ng buhay, na sabay-sabay na sumisigaw, "Isulat mo ako!"
Baka sa mga ganito. Baka sa mga ganyan.
Magugulat ka na lamang. nakapagsulat ka na.


ni Sch. Edward Joseph Magtoto, Philo 2