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In The Arc Of Your Mallet
by Rumi

Don’t go anywhere without me.
Let nothing happen in the sky apart from me,
or on the ground, in this world or that world,
without my being in its happening.
Vision, see nothing I don’t see.
Language, say nothing.
The way the night knows itself with the moon,
be that with me. Be the rose
nearest to the thorn that I am.

I want to feel myself in you when you taste food,
in the arc of your mallet when you work,
when you visit friends, when you go
up on the roof by yourself at night.

There’s nothing worse than to walk out along the
street without you. I don’t know where I’m going.

You’re the road, and the knower of roads,
more than maps, more than love.

-Rumi

Tags: Poetry, Rumi
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Let Me Go.
(To all the girls I’ve loved before, will have loved in the future, have been presently loving)
by Michael Ian Lomongo

Let me go.
Letlet…
Mimi…
Let me go.
Letty…
Amy…
Mi amiga…
Let me go.
Mei-li… Gong-li… Agogo…
Let me go.

Amigas, dejadme que me vaya.

Michelle… Mabel…
Let me go.
Son les mots qui vont tres bien ensemble,
Tres bien ensemble:
Let me go.
Yeah.
Let me be.
Words of wisdom:
Let it be.
January, 2005

Tags: Girls, Love, Michelle, Poetry, songs
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Menos Tu Vientre by Miguel Hernandez

(translation by Ian Lomongo)

Kundi sa’yong sinapupunan,
lahat ay pawang kaguluhan.
Kundi sa’yong sinapupunan,
bukas na dagling lumilisan,
baog at ‘di-mabanaagang
kupas na kahapon ang tanan.
Kundi sa’yong sinapupunan,
lahat-lahat ‘di mawarian.
Kundi sa’yong sinapupunan,
lahat kawalang-katiyakan,
lahat doon sa kalayuan,
abong walang sandaigdigan.
Kundi sa’yong sinapupunan,
lahat pusikit na karimlan.
Kundi sa’yong sinapupunan,
(na) kaliwanagan, kaibuturan.

Tags: Miguel Hernandez, Poetry, Translation
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Ganap.
(ni Miguel Juanjo (a.k.a. Wang-Ho) Tiamson Lomongo)

“Kailan kaya sasapit ang araw ng pagiging ganap
Ng lahat ng ating mga pinapangarap?”

Araw-araw, patuloy ang paghahanap,
Patuloy… maging ang pagpapanggap,
Patuloy ang pag-aapuhap,
Patuloy ang pagganap
Sa tungkulin, kahit walang kahina-hinagap
Sa katotohanang pinapangarap magagap,
Malanghap… Malasap!

Ano nga ba’ng nagaganap sa mga nagsisipagganap
Sa mga pagtatanghal na’ting kinakaharap?
Ay! Masalimuot na prosesong may kung anu-anong sangkap!
Mapa-dula man o pelikula, ang pagganap
Maihahalintulad sa pagdadalisay at pagbubusilak
Ng paglalaba. Mga damit na ginagamit
Sa pagharap sa sangmaliwanag, binabasa, pinapalo, pinipitpit,
Kinukusot, sinasabon. (Ang sabon, tulad ng tubig
At baha, lumilinis at pumapatay, sa pamamagitan ng bula…
Mga bulang tulad ng katotohanan, buhay, at dula,
Naglalaho, nawawala.)
At matapos banlawan, mga damit ikukula,
Isasabit sa sampayan
Upang sa liwanag ng araw masilayan.
Gayundin ang kinasasapitan ng mga damdamin, isip,
Guni-guni, panaginip, libog, pag-ibig, galit, pangamba, pananalig:
Dinadalisay, binubusilak, binabasa, sinasabon, pinapalo, pinipitpit,
Kinukusot, binabanlawan, ‘kinukula,
At saka ngayon pinaplantsa, upang maikubli ang mga gusot sa mata.
Mga maskarang tulad ng damit pinagpapalit-palit
Sa pangangarap na magampanang ganap
Ang pagganap.

Samantala, patuloy sa paghahanap…
Tuloy-tuloy maging pagpapanggap…
Tuloy-tuloy sa pag-aapuhap…
Tuloy-tuloy sa pagganap
Sa tungkulin, kahit walang kahina-hinagap
Sa — katotohanan, kabutihan, kagandahan, kaligayahan –
KaGANAPang pinapangarap magagap
Malanghap… Malasap!

“Kailan kaya sasapit ang araw ng pagiging ganap
Ng lahat ng ating mga pinapangarap?”

Ganap.

Ika-14 ng Disyembre, 2004

Tags: Add new tag, Poetry
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Ano nga ba ang isang tula?

Isang marikit na kasinungalingang binihisan. Isang katotohanang ipinararamdam lamang. Tanging sa pagpaparamdam lamang nito hindi nagiging kasinungalingan ang katotohanan. Isang katotohanang ’singhalaga at ’sintago ng miniminang yaman.

Sino nga ba ang nakakakita na, sa katotohanan, kulay-asin ang dagat?

Walang sinuman. Gayunpaman, nagpaparanas ito, wumawagayway, ipinapakita at sinasalamin ng mga binuo nitong bula ang kulay ng gasuklay na buwan. Nasa kanyang hiwaga ang higit niyang kagandahan.

Hindi maaaring tumambad sa atin ang tula nang hubad. Mga buto ng tula lamang ang taglay ng mga tulang hubad. At ano nga ba’ng mas papangit pa sa mga pawang kalansay lamang?

Ingatan, mga manunula, ang diwa ng tula: isang espinghe. Hayaan n’yong matuto silang bakbakin ito tulad ng balat ng kahoy… Ay, tulad ng dalandan! kaylinamnam ng itinatago nito sa loob ng kanyang mala-planetang kabilugan!

Ingatan ang inyong sarili, mga manunula, laban sa mga bungang walang-balat, mga dagat na walang-alat.

Kailangang umubra ang tula gaya ng sa banal na misa.

Kailan kaya darating ang manunula na hawak sa kanyang mga daliri ang tula gaya ng paring tangan-tangan ang ostiya at nagsasabing: “Ito ang Diyos!” at maniniwala tayo?

- Miguel Hernandez, spanish poet, 1910-1942 (Tagalog translation by Ron Capinding)

Tags: Add new tag, Miguel Hernandez, Poetry, Translation
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For Sharon (And All the Many Brave People in the World)

I stood
Like a statue
Unmoving, unseeing
Not speaking, not wanting
To break
The fragile silence that
Engulfed us like
A wall oppressing,
Suffocating, separating
Me… from you.

But I was dying to live!
And breathe, and see
The many things I haven’t seen
And move, and do
The many things I haven’t done.
How I longed to look at you
(Take a long and good look at you.)
To speak, and be, with you.
Oh how I yearned to touch,
Feel, and love you.

But then again, as always,
I was afraid
Of you, and me,
And the many things
I haven’t seen and done
(And of I-don’t-but-God-knows-what-else).
And then again, as always,
I had to hide
And be content
To peek from inside.

Suddenly, brave as an angel
Come down from heaven, you
Freed me from the chains
I myself forged
And wound around me.
You looked at, talked with, me
And with a smile, shattered
The walls of timidity and fear
That imprisoned and prevented
Me from loving you.

And then, I could breathe, though gasping
And so, I could see, though squinting
And more, I could move, though trembling
And yes, I could speak, though stammering
And now, I could feel, though numbing
At last, I could love, though wanting.

Err… This is to say
“Thank you”
For “I love you“?

Tags: Life, Love, Poetry, Writing
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Books Liked/Loved:

The Count of Monte Cristo (Alexander Dumas)
El Filibusterismo (Jose Rizal)
The Little Prince (Antoine de Saint-Exupery)
The Favourite Game (Leonard Cohen)
Thus Spoke Zarathustra / Genealogy of Morals (Friedrich Nietzsche)
The Trial / Metamorphosis (Franz Kafka)
Doktor Faustus (Thomas Mann)
Cubao Midnight Express (Tony Perez)
The Alphabet of Grace (Frederick Buechner)
Zen and the Art of Motorcycle Maintenance (Robert Pirsig)
Written on the Body (Jeanette Winterson)
The Brothers Karamazov (Fyodor Dostoyevski)
The Unbearable Lightness of Being (Milan Kundera)
Personal (Rene Villanueva)
Foucault’s Pendulum (Umberto Eco)
Lady Chatterley’s Lover (D.H. Lawrence)
Siddharta / Narcissus and Goldmund (Herman Hesse)
The Book of Lights (Chaim Potok)
Angela’s Ashes (Frank McCourt)
The God of Small Things (Arundhati Roy)
A Little Book on the Human Shadow / Iron John (Robert Bly)
It Is Here Now – Are You? (Bhagavan Das)
The Last Three Minutes (Paul Davies)
The Dancing Wu-Li Masters (Gary Zukav)
The Clowns of God (Morris West)
Zen Guitar (Philip Toshio Sudo)
Sophie’s Choice (William Styron)
The Artist’s Way (Julia Cameron)
The Day of the Jackal (Frederick Forsyth)
Inside the Music (interviews with contemporary musicians)
Writing Down the Bones (Natalie Goldberg)
Ordinary People (Judith Guest)
The Teachings of Don Juan (Carlos Castaneda)

Tags: Art, Books, Life, Literature, Love, Music, Nietzsche, Philosophy, Poetry, Psychology, spirituality, Writing
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A Thousand Bitter-Sweet Poems for Women
By Michael Ian Lomongo, March 21, 2001

Last March 10, I watched PETA’s “Komedi Club,” a festival of 10 to 15-minute plays written by members of the PETA Writers’ Bloc. In celebration of the International Women’s Day, the plays featured during that weekend (March 8-10) were written by women playwrights (except for Nick Pichay’s “Kahit na Magtiis”). The line-up included “Flight,” an interpretative dance choreographed and performed by Martina Gonzales-Quesada, Regina Lasam, and Verni Severo, incorporated with a poem by Inge Saltarin; an adaptation of Liza Magtoto’s Palanca-winning “Despedida de Soltera“; Sheila Crisostomo’s “Emergency” (the grand prize winner of the second Charley dela Paz Awards of the PETA-PDP Writers’ Bloc); Nick Pichay’s “Kahit na Magtiis”; and Lallie Bucoy’s “Isang Libong Tula para sa Dibdib ni Dulce.”

I liked the last two plays best.

Read the rest of this page »

Tags: Art, Duality, Femininity, Filipinos, Gender Issues, Layeta Bucoy, Life, Machismo, Maternity, Philosophy, Poetry, Psychology, spirituality, Theater, Tony Perez, Writing
Posted in Art, Filipinos, Gender Issues, Life, Love, Philosophy, Poetry, Psychology, Theater, spirituality | 1 Comment »

(lovingly dedicated to friends, romans, countrymen, lovers, philosophers, philosophasters, grecophiles, ichtyophiles, insomniacs, amnesiacs, maniacs, dionysiacs, alcoholics, addicts, narcoleptics, lunatics, etc… happy valiant times!)

Athena: Variations on a Theme

I

Deep in the night
I stared into the eyes of an owl
Not finding sleep
I sought love
And tripped on wisdom instead.

II

Deep in the night
Staring into the moonlit eyes of an owl
I fought love
Sought wisdom
And caught sleep instead.

III

Deep in the night
Staring at the moonlight
With the eyes of an owl
I sought, without finding
Sleep, wisdom, love.

- ian lomongo, september 2002

Tags: Athena, Love, Poetry, Sleep, Wisdom
Posted in Life, Love, Philosophy, Poetry, Translation, Writing | 1 Comment »