PUSUANON ON JANUARY 31, 2007

Minagikan sa samuyang puso
an imbitasyon na ika asin iba pang katuod
na makaibahan sa selebrasyon nin
LITERATURANG BIKOL

sa pagbungsod kan bagong libro
PUSUANON: Mga Bersong Bikol
ni Kristian Sendon Cordero

sa halipot na programa
sa Martes, Enero 31, 2008, 3:00 pm,
sa Bro. Richie Fernando Hall,
Ateneo de Naga University
Syudad nin Naga

PUSUANON LAUNCH, 1/22/08

photo by gerome palma.

ST. ELMO'S FIRE IN THE HEART
(Santelmo Sa Puso)

A name died on my lips today.
-Maryanne Moll

Sadness will absorb all feelings
because we live in such a troubled time
when you and I will be seen as two
even if we wanted to be one, even if we have hesitations,
or second thoughts of turning back, we move on,
round and round the circle which caged us, this world
this boundless land shrunk by consciousness
for you think that the you is never meant for me,
that everything that is, is you, the you is the flesh,
the you is the soul, the you of all times.

I will say: I love you this first night
you are with the longed-for hope,
the healing of the wound brought by time
of captivity and amazement of the small world
that I created, that was created for me. Mine alone.
I will say, I am afraid of your kindness,
for everything that is you, the embrace next to breath,
the desire to love, the you in existence.

Perhaps, you will not understand the hurried
speech, let it be, I will stop again
at the time when your name dies
or from the unfeeling flesh, at a time when everything
becomes nothingness and nothingness is everything.

Love is such a terrible thing, it is in the lips.
Hold me, let me feel that what was reserved
is more than this world, for I will cross into fear,
I will cage the hope that you are the one reserved for me
and I am the one reserved for you, hold this body,
the wind wounds, there are eyes watching,
silence me, tell me that there is only one outcome,
one surge, one feeling.
Then the eyes will look far
not hoping anymore of ever meeting again
even if the light gazes at us, kissing us.

Translation by Frank V. Peñones Jr.

Pagpuon kan Taon

photos by gerome palma

odes 2

Photo from the blog of Simple Sparrow

ODA SA BUSKAY

Sa may pwertahan
nakakalay
an mga buskay.

Kun nagtatarangkuan
an mga ini
huli kan duros—

hinihidaw niya
si mga dating kagharong.

Enero 2, 2008

ODES

Photo by Abe Olandres.

ODA SA SANTOL

Sarong tukdol sa santol
kiblit sa kublit, dugkol
sa bilog na hawak dangan

hulog. Sasalohon kan mga
kamot, alagad ano ining gutom
sa bungang labi kaalsom

ta sa pagtingag pa sana, pagbuka
kan palad sa pagsalo, paghiling
sa nagigilo-gilong prutas minabuka na

an ngimot. Mantang naghahalat
sa pagkahulog, nagkikibot-kibot
na an mapulahon na burubagtingan.

-Part of the upcoming collection, PUSUANON,
this january 22, 2008.

COMING THIS JANUARY 23

One of the bright lights of the recent Bikolnon writing
renaissance, Kristian Cordero presents in his poetry
collection, PUSUANON, intimate sketches and portraits
of the people and land of his birth. He does this with a
confident hand, cool detachment and, very often, with
tongue-in-cheek humor. Fully in command of his material,
Cordero's poetic diction deftly fuses real and surreal elements
to elicit from the thoughtful reader not only high amusement
but also deep understanding.

--- LUIS CABALQUINTO

when all the bottles are empty

A LETTER TO A WOMAN

I told him before that whom he will love,
I will also love.

Everything that will make him happy, I will cherish.
Everything that will pain him, I will avoid.
Everything that will make him sad,
I will pray for that he is spared that chalice.

So I got acquainted with his mother
and joined his siblings.
I invited him to my house:
I was glad she asked for my mother's blessings
and talked with my siblings.

I also started playing the guitar,
to sing the songs written
by my arthritic and discordant heart.
I bought a new camera
so I will have photographs
I will keep, the ones I took of him,
the ones he took of me,
and the photos of us both.

I searched for the books, films
which we can watch, talk about
until we grow old,
until we anoint each other.

When I heard you became his girl,
I was hurt but happy.
How these two feelings can merge,
perhaps show the way I love him.

I am glad he will open
a new chapter in his life
with you, apart from me.
He has to grow
even if it is the start of my decline.

Now that he has left you
I will not ask you how you feel,
I already know that, I've been there.
But you can indeed come to me,
let us meet in our love for him.
I love you not the way he loves you.
I love you because let us hope
that he also loved you.

If you are already numb or whatever
tell me, more so the feeling
of how it is to be loved, how it is to be cared for
by such a man which like him whom I have vowed to
that whoever he will love, I will also love.

Translation by FPJr.

here's another take

SAGKOD

Malisyahan ta na kun ta’no
an mga kahoy sa kampo-santo,
matataba, pusog an mga pisog
mababansay asin an mga dahon
berdeng nagkukurahaw
sa bulanit kan saldang
o sa kitik kan tagiti.

Aram ta na baga an rason
kun tano ta garo mga banderitas
an mga dahon kan kawayan
sa haraning pantyong,
kun tano ta garo may nagpipiyesta
sa tahaw kan satuyang kamundoan.

Kun tano ta biglang minadakula
an kanding kun nakakabuhi
asin nakuku’a tang nagsasapa-sapa
na kan mga doot sa daan nang mausoleo.

Ano ta dai kita nagbabakal nin alipi
asin puto lanson duman sa paratinda
na aswang daa idto na naglalakaw kun udto.
Kakolor pati kan alang na tulang nin tawo
an pigrunot na bagas asin ginibong puto.
Alagad ta’no ta masiram an saiyang mga tinda
ta aram tang gibo an alipi sa kamoteng kahoy
na pig-aataman kan mga kalag na dai nang pagmati,
dai na sabot an magutom, an mapungaw an dila.

Malisyahan ta na ini asin kun ako magadan na,
huli sa makuring pagka-uri kaining kinaban,
italbong ako tulos, duman sa kuntod,
na sakuyang nilalakawan kan ako aki pa
ta mawot kong maging layas na burak
na gugutuson nin sarong aki—
pwede akong ipaipli sa talinga
o saro-saro na tanggalon an mga petalyo
mantang pighahanap an simbag:
kun padangat ako, iyo, padangat ako, dai.

THE END
Translation by Frank V. Penones

We should take note how
the trees at the cemetery
are sturdy, their fruits full
and their leaves green
shouting at the splinter of sun
or the tickle of the shower.

We already know the reason
why the leaves of the bamboo
at the nearby grave
are like hanging streamers.
Or how it seemed there is a feast
in the midst of our sadness.
How a goat suddenly grows big
when it escapes
and when we found it chewing
the grass growing at the old mausoleum.

Why do we not buy rice cakes
from the peddler reputed to be a witch
who plies at noon
when the ground rice made into a cake
is of the same color as a human bone.
But why are they delicious
when we know that her alipi is made from cassava
which were grown by souls
now without feelings,
know no hunger, or their tongues don't miss anything.

Let us take note of these and when I die,
because of my deep envy of this world,
bury me at once on the hill,
where I walked once when I was young still
because I wanted to be a wild flower
which will be picked up by a child
and placed between her ear
or the petals will be plucked one by one,
while looking for the answer:
He loves me, he loves me not.

coming soon this december

KULALAGBAW

Kasubanggi, tolong beses akong luminaog
sa kasilyasan asin tinalaka ako nin dakulang lawa,
kulalagbaw—an apod digdi kan mga gurang,
may walo ining bugaybuhon na kamot
garo pugita sa daga na nakadukot
sa lanob na piglulumot.

Kun dai lang kuta ako pigbubusiaw
dai na ako malaog sa kasilyasan.
Alagad masakit an sabay na mamatian an apri
kan iihihi asin an takot sa nakadukot na hayop.
An pangangaipuhan na namamatian
kaipuhan sunudon, itao.
An takot na nagpapakurad-kutad sa daghan
kaipuhan na sarayon, itago.

Nganing malagbuw an kulalagbaw
pigparikas ko na si bulos kan gripo
pigpaturutipsik ko si ihi sa inidoro
pigrabag ko nang sagin si tabo
Alagad, dai ini naghihiro,
toninong, na garo pigtuturuhukan
ako kan saiyang sadit na mga mata.

Malipwas na an takot ko kaya
pigpasipara ko na lang an dakulang lawa
sa laog kan kubeta.

Kinaagahan si ikaapat kong balik ta husto
na si namamatian na i-udo,
yaon pa giraray si kulalagbaw, sa may tangod
na kan kahoy na pirtahan nakadukot,
toninong kaining pighihilomloman
an saiyang mga bagong sugok.

Kulalagbaw
Translation by Marne Kilates

Last night, I went to the toilet thrice
and was startled by a huge spider,
kulalagbaw—the old ones call it,
with its eight hairy arms—
an octopus on dry land stuck
on the wall covered with moss.

If I didn’t have this sickness of the piss
I wouldn’t have to repeat these visits
to the toilet. But the sting of held urine
and the fear of this arachnid is just too much.
What nature asks, you give.
The fear that makes your heart
palpitate, you keep.

To scare the kulalagbaw off
I turn the faucet up, make the water rush
I shake my prick to scatter the piss on the bowl
I pretend to fling the dipper, make a noise
But, it wouldn’t budge on its spot on the wall,
serenely, it stares at me
with its tiny eyes.

My fear has settled down so I try
to ignore the huge spider
in the toilet.

The next morning, on my fourth trip
because I had to take a shit,
there it was still, the kulalagbaw,
this time stuck on the door jamb,
serenely hatching
its new eggs.