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A Poem for Nanay

As she descends from God's lair, her silver streaks glows from the touch of sunlight, luring us into thinking she's vulnerable but she is sturdy as a tree   Age may have threatened to wash her strength away but she seemed unperturbed, not mindful of those around her Divinity is akin to food of the spirit, She does not budge and manages to unleash an earthly smile She is nanay, my mother's chieftain ,the source of our being. If there are things that I can remember It is her face, the modesty, the divine resilience Stories remind me of her like the fabled lola basyang, except she does not talk much and preferred to just listen It is music to my ears when she suddenly bursts albeit with delay "siyanga nga" then a laughter for each tale of a jester I couldn't remember she was ever mad All i recall was her calmness, her patience, the peaceful demeanor. Was it her effervescent smile, the indomitable spirit? How i wish she could live for eternity to enthrall us forev...
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The Paradise That is Soliyao

As silent waves rushed to kiss the shore tiny little hermits rejoiced from afar and instead of fear welcomed the angry seas We dread the water that grew angrier as we made our approach, bamboo outriggers consoling us that worry we should not After the calm there I see paradise – the light blue skies, the green backdrops,  the sandy shore In Soliyao, there is serenity, a feeling of happiness, and contentment - the sea breeze embraces us like a long lost soul yearning for way home We reared excitement - the beach mocking us - that we obliged and summoned our inner mermen The sun's heat wasn't enough to contain our adrenaline - we hovered between the air, the water, and the sand until our skin was red to the touch One time we rode a banca, a strong gush of wind strung a crazy surprise     - water made its way to the narrow hull that we panicked thinking we would drown We paddled, poured our hearts out, only to realize water was only knee deep and we end up laughing for ...

Summer in Pitogo

I pondered what I miss of Pitogo - the tiny, special town that reminds me of my summer youth Is it the narrow roads of rolling terrains that we enjoy trekking with, or is it the loyal pack that trail us in our trips to the horizon? Who could ever forget the taste of savory snowballs - the touch of velvety sweetness that melts in our mouth like a sweet manna from Heaven I can still hear the crushing of the ice, the turning of the wheels - oh the hard labor, the innocent patience! Do you reminisce the time we had together at a mini theatre, where tiny speck of garapatas tormented us, reminding this is not our turf? How about the days when the Hiwaga, the Shocker, the Precious Hearts, the Fantasy and the Funny comics became a temporary relief for our boredom? I remember the pretty damsels that I danced sweet music with, the stroke of the drums, the lambadas – the nostalgic tunes! Their faces now only a mirage, slowly fading Dance, I do not know, but when I'm in Pit...