rawitdawit ni puraella

KAGEMUSHA

2007-04-24T01:18:00.000-07:00

Kaninong mukha itong andito sa'kin?
sinong mandirigma itong sumanib sa'kin?
Di ko mawari kung saan papunta ang noon...
andito na ba o nasa panginorin pa?

puraella
sorsogon city
03.23.07

Day After the Storm

2007-01-15T22:14:00.000-08:00

Calmness

to make a turnaround,
wreak havoc
to us down here.
Look up
sweetness
in the morn with fallin'
flowers from the Tambis tree...
Sweetness comes freshly
from towels and white sheets.
Can bitterness
be faraway
after this sweetness?

puraella
sorsogon city
01.16.07
(N.B.- Written March 18,2006 & posted Jan. 16,2007)

Evanescence

2006-11-01T22:28:00.000-08:00

I almost loved the darkness
that engulfed my wholeness tight
the ephemeral vanishing points of light and night...
whiteness and blackness.

I almost blocked the passage of time
incommunicado to the rest of the earth
bringing in sleep to steal the spirit in wine
allowing the stillness to still me.

I almost waited in vain for the light
to switch on the slow diffusion of night,
from a blinding white tryst
with shades of grey into the final total eclipse.

puraella
sorsogon city
11.02.06

To Anaesthesia

2005-07-28T15:51:00.000-07:00

Yes, to lay my body down into the darkness
of neverwhere,
i will feel my spirit tremble and fly free
into the world of the unknown.

I will feel the touch of darkness
happening in the bleakness
of the night as it glides
into my spine.

We are now in the shade of deepest black
blinding the core of dagger-looks
unpierced by human minds
unseen by naked eyes.

A figure swims toward me
leaving a trail of wings
and hair on fire,
to snatch me into regions
where all pains
turn to dreams.

puraella
sorsogon city
07.28.05

i never found home again

2005-07-21T11:30:00.000-07:00

home has just been deleted from my inbox

and i do not find it anymore

except in bits and pieces in the mind.

we do not come home anywhere

we just grope for little memories

that slowly fade away into forever.

home is virtual reality of the heart and mind

it slowly recedes into nothingness...

it is neverwhere (tnx 2 neil gaiman).

memories are wonderful

as long as they do not deal

with the past (tnx 2 u 2 linklater) ...

but they do...

including what is now.

puraella
sorsogoncity
7/21/05

That gray thin man sitting by the bridge

2005-05-31T10:50:00.000-07:00

(Inspired by Rilke's Pont du Caroussel)

His brittle bones enveloped
in withered flesh holding on to a tiny box
tingling with loose coins begged from others,
might be the only thing constant.

This isolated reposed soul
whose stars might have turned away,
where every bit about him flows
and flies away;

He who sits all day beneath the burning sun
waiting at some crossroads
beside other branching paths,
that are snarled and curled;

I would not think of him
gone and done.

Perhaps he will lead us
to a world invisible to dust,
a gatekeeper to an underworld
to an entrance that is just.

-puraella
sorsogon city
05.31.05

PAIN SUCKER

2005-05-04T17:40:00.000-07:00

BREATH OF A BUD

Tonight I just lay down
the whole length of this body
upon my bed in this little abode
of mine where I savor the ticking
of minutes and seconds.

I saw a bud in the afternoon
after going through the hours of morn
and again - even then I always knew
this bud breathed life anew.

It felt the vibrating movements
of my body - twitching into fits
of seemingly unknown ailments.

I could not anymore move
because the whole span of sixty seconds
untied the knot of fifty yards
that reduced me into a single thread.

puraella
bacoor/10.05.02

FOUR COLORS

Four colors in linear patterns
converging towards the middle of my breast.

Twice i wore this top in black and white,
alternating with lilac and old rose
when pain came to an unguarded me.

You unlucky top! You saw me twice with this pain
and twice felt too the faint
rush for the stream
of twin rivers
that raced down my cheeks, my chin,
my neck, my spine...
wetting every strand of hair...
melting every tissue of skin.

The secret pain is now plunged
into the open skies
whispered into every leaf
caressed gently by a breeze
and pressed by lips...
swallowing my entire world.

puraella
bacoor/10.06.02

LITTLE STEPS

I grew up with this pain.

Now, I shall again
grow old in my pain
before my time.

It must be very hard
for one to bear
the weight of time
which we do not hold.

We shall run like rats
in little steps
that bite our bones -
that chill us no end.

Let no one bring me flowers
on my grave...
I hold not my feelings back
as time catches up with me.

I shall spit out the venom
from my mouth filled with worms
and hurl daggers from my eyes
hollowed into gaping holes.

puraella
bacoor/08.19.01

LAKE BULUSAN

2005-05-03T18:10:00.000-07:00

Faure's "Requiem" keeps dinning into my ears
as I enter my church.

Vertical trees stand tall as pillars
that reach out for the eternal blue.

Giant ferns adorn the altar
beneath the mystic tabernacle of Ceres.

I get down on my knees slowly not to disturb
Invisible entities dawning on my entirety.

I stand to bring my arms above me
but Mahler's earth song brings me back
to my knees again.

puraella
bulusan lake/summer 2004

SIQUIJOR

2005-05-03T17:15:00.000-07:00

THE SIQUIJOR IN MY MIND

I have not gone there yet
but I could already feel
the shooting up of my blood pressure, the pulsating beat
of my breast against the undulating sounds
of waves upon sands running through my toes,
cavorting with my feet, my legs, my thighs,
my entire anatomy.

I have not gone there yet
but I could already feel
the strong sting of wet
substance upon my tongue,
bitter and tangy on the palate,
knocking me out in deep surrender.

I have not gone there yet
but already, I feel the strong
presence of an entity
that shadows me in my walks
at the fort, by the seawalls,
past empty malls and facelesss humans
converging into a thick mist of ray
that vertically points at us and envelops
the wholeness of me.

puraella
taguig/07.31.02

BLACK WAVES

If there is anything
I would like to do most
it is going through the vast
thickets of SIQUIJOR
and fill my mouth
with a freshly concocted brew.

On a Good Friday when God is dead:
(He who'd bar the demons
from His domain
would rather bolt
Himself away in His tomb. )
we shall leave our bodies
upon prickly blades of grass
cloaked in bloody rose petals
as we gaze through eyes
pinned on foreheads
and slowly sip the stinging brew.

On the Third day -
God is risen and driven
into a fit of rage!

He then reverses the truth into myth;
and reality turns to fantasy
and fantasy to wrath.

But we shall wake up braver
and freer than ever.

Sorry, the antidote does not work anymore.

puraella
manila/26.10.00

PASAY ROTONDA

2005-05-02T11:40:00.000-07:00

Poems

Poems just come in streaks,
they strike you when
you are least guarded
in moments when you
just let your feelings
rest and flow
in the office, at home,
in a moviehouse, in a bus
while walking along
Pasay Rotonda and Makati Av.

Thoughts and words just come around
pouring out from a coffeemaker,
bitter sizzling hot for a bare
black spotless brainless head.

Words soothe me unbelievably cool,
they connect thoughts in my brain
with external forces round nature.

Sometimes they elude me
and leave my path
dark and bleak.

puraella
Bacoor, Cavite
07.30.02

TY 4 D STORY 'BOUT D CHINESEMAN

D spirits d not want 2 get
things done easy
dey tel U 2 let small ideas
come N big things first
only 2 break dem down N2 pieces.

Dey tel U 2 look N2 streaks
of events dat seem 2 persist
and return N linear dimensions.

Dey tel U 2 bring down
emotions N light tones.
But most of ol - dey tel U
2 keep running N aiming
4 a Moving Target.

puraella
Cagayan de Oro
30.04.02

TAG-TUYOT

2005-04-28T17:45:00.000-07:00

ERIN NG PAMAMAHAYAG SA PILIPINAS
(Alay kay Marlene Garcia-Esperat)

Sa dugong pumulandit...

Tanging dun lang matitikman
tamis ng panulat
nilang mga pinaslang.

Tangan nila tanging sandata
sa malalim at tahimik
na pagpalaot sa madugong
pakikihamok.

Ilan lang ba ang makapaglilimi
kung hanggang kelan at saan
aabutin ng munting sipol
itong tagos sa talukbong
na nakabalot sa mga ulong
walang bahid na dungis?

Sinu-sino ba ang me hawak
sa panipol upang wakasan
ang mga baluktot na pagtugis
sa mga Erin ng bayan?

Sinu-sino ba ang me kayang
itulos ng sambigwas
ang ulos ng katotohanan!

-puraella
sorsogon/04.04.05

SA PUSOD NG BUNDOK BULUSAN

Pagod, naupo ako sa tabing lawa
na nalililiman ng mga higanteng molave.
Huminga ng malalim at namangha
Sa tila walang agos na tubig.
Di ko 'to kinanti o ginulo man.

Walang tinig na pumunit sa kalawakan
Maliban sa mga huni ng mga ibon.
Magpanaghoy man ako, alam kong
Di sila lalabas... di ko makikita.

Mananatili silang magsingirog na sawi.
Kailanma'y di magtatagpo at magsasanib
Magkalayong sisidlan ng buhay, nagiisang bukal.

Sa bawat hakbang pabalik sa maingay na lungsod
Damdam ko lagi pintig ng bulkan.
Dugong pilit pumipiglas upang pumulandit
Mula sa mga kuko ng malupit na Mampak.

Sa diwatang Agingay ito ang hiling,
kaalinsabay ng paos kong dasal
Sa libingan ng mga usal
Wag sanang muling gahasain
ang namamayaning katahimikan.

puraella
taguig/taginit 2004

PULANG HAMTIK

Humayo kayo mga kapatid!
Samyuin sa bakas ng paa't
alimuom ng lupang tuyot
ang liyab at darang
ng tumitirik na araw.

Upang buong sinop na likumin,
sunda't sutsutan
mula sa punong hitik sa bunga't
isip ang mithiing tamis...
dumadarang, pumapaso't
tumutusok ng kalamnan.

Sulong mga kapatid!
Libong kaisipa'y linangin
at ibulong sa salinlahi
ang sakit ng tulos sa dibdib
kapalit ng ligaya sa'yong panahon.

Humayo at ikalat sa lahat...
mga kapatid, anak, ama't
ina: yaring adhikaing payak,
sinusunda't sinasamyo.
Ipinaglalaban at sinasamba.

puraella
(mula sa Pulang Hamtik, 1997)

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Copyright 2005