Poetry

Book: Ilang Sandali…Makalipas ang Huling Araw ng Mundo, University of the Philippines Press, 2019

As we witness and experience an unprecedented global event brought by the COVID-19 pandemic, I thought of my poem from my book above, about the plight of daily wage earners in my poor country and the privilege of a young kid as he himself was having breakfast and being told to be careful of going outside. The following is a lose translation of the work that reflects what seems to be a desolate scene of this ongoing apocalypse.

Epidemic

            In a room a child was listening to the radio

while her mother prepared for his lunch at school:

rolls of pandesal with cheese and fruit juice in tetra pack.

He might be lucky, he got a lunchbox, but he was thinking

of his luckier classmates. Instead of bread and cheese and sugary

drink, they got some coins for their small wishes: salty junkfood,

a colourful toy gun, a bunch of hogplums, or boiled plantains.

His mother told him not to talk to any stranger and never, must never

go out of the classroom up the time he will be picked up.

            Satanists are said to be kidnapping children for their blood

to be spilled on a bridge being constructed in Dagupan. He was told never

to buy anything from the streetside vendors though in fact he was given

a five-peso coin, the foods there are dirty, her mom told. Oh well,

what’s the point of this coin, the kid thought. So he was thinking of siopao,

later from Aling Paring, the school’s unofficial food vendor

every nine am’s recess, who roamed around to sell her meals.

He was hoping Aling Paring would have Chinese pork bun that day. He then

imagined in his palm that lightweight heaviness and moist heat from that bread.

            In that vendor’s house, her four children had their breakfast, boiled sweet potato.

They were all given two-peso coins each in addition to their lunch of rice

and fresh carabaos’s milk. All the children bid goodbye to their mother

without the usual smile though with respect as they would need a five-kilometer walk

towards San Miguel Elementary School. Upon leaving, their mother would feel

her stomach churning and the white parts of her eyes reddening as if a dust piercing.

            In a few minutes, she would feel dizzy and lethargic. Thinking though

of her daily income and to provide food for her children, she would need to go through

despite this ill feeling. In a rush, she dropped one of the buns on the floor. She picked it up

and put it a single-use plastic bag and felt that her skin was warmer than the bread,

and her heart had that stabbing pain like a golden dagger piercing it while

she looks away at her four children walking slowly from their small thatched hut.   

EPIDEMYA

          Sa isang silid nakikinig ng radyo ang isang paslit

habang inihahanda ng kanyang ina ang baon sa paaralan:

pandesal na may palamang keso at juice na nasa tetra pack.

Maswerte sya, may baon sya, ngunit inisip nyang mas maswerte

ang mga kaklase. Imbis na pinalamanang tinapay at maasukal

na juice, me barya silang pambili ng kung anuman: maalat na chichiriya,

makulay na laruang baril-barilan, o ‘di kaya’y sinigwelas o nilagang saba.

Pinagbawalan sya ng ina na wag makipag-usap sa estranghero

at wag lalabas ng paaralan hangga’t hindi sinusundo.

          Laganap na naman ang Satanismo, nangunguha ng batang

iaalay sa bagong ginagawang tulay sa Dagupan. Wag na wag siyang

bibili ng anumang pagkain sa bangketa, kahit pa meron syang dalang

limang piso dahil marumi ang mga iyon, bilin ng ina. Para ke anupa’t

binigyan sya ng barya sa isip-isip nya. Kaya’t naisip nyang bumili ng siopao

mamaya ke Aling Paring, ang maglalako na umiikot-ikot sa paaralan

tuwing alas nuwebe at recess upang magbenta ng mga kakanin.

Sana ay may siopao na benta si Aling Paring. At tila naramdaman nya

sa mga palad ang magaang bigat at mamasamasang uri ng init ng tinapay.

          Sa bahay naman ng maglalako nag-agahan ang apat niyang anak ng nilupak.

Binigyan sila ng tig-dadalawang piso ng ina pandagdag sa baong kanin

na sinabawan ng gatas ng kalabaw. Nagpaalam ang mga anak sa ina

nang walang ngiti sa mukha ngunit may galang dahil limang kilometro ang lakad

pa-San Miguel Elementary School. Pag-alis ng mga bata, mararamdaman ng ina

ang pag-ikot ng sikmura at pamumula ng puti ng mata na tila may pumupuwing.

       Maya-maya pa ay makakaramdam siya ng pagkahilo at panghihina. Kailangan

pa rin nyang maglako at buhayin ang apat na anak kahit masama ang panlasa.

Sa pagmamadali nahulog ang isa sa mga ibebentang siopao. Dinampot nya iyon, inilagay

sa plastik na supot at naramdamang mas mainit ang kanyang balat kaysa sa tinapay

at sa kanyang puso, may tila isang ginintuang balaraw ang tumarak, habang masid niya

ang apat na anak na naglalakad palayo nang palayo sa kanilang munting barong-barong.

Published by

rrmaiquez

Quiet Bipolar!

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google photo

You are commenting using your Google account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s