Pannagna

Nakatapaya dagiti naibulos a sennaay
Kadagiti uneg agkarapaay a nakem
Ta kas man tunggal umaddang ti namnama
Adda mangibalud a pannakaiwawa.

‘Di makakunail aglulupoy a simbeng
Nagaburan ‘di agpakatalna a panagbuteng
Ta kas man tunggal umagek ti kired
Adda kullayaw a mangiparnged.

Agragutok dagiti barukong ti aripapa
Kadagiti agpaspasnaay a rikna
Ta tunggal sumirip agur-uray a masakbayan
Adda alliaw a mangsalukob iti agdama.

Manguddakudday pannagna ti panawen
Dagiti agkaraitublak, agluluken a tumeng
Ngem tumakderak latta, magnaak manen
Tapno layawek nakaigarugungan a yuyeng.


//Sherma E. Benosa
06 August 2008; 9:50 am

My Door

It stayed open.
It did not think of moving
To stand in your way
When you walked out
With the suitcase
That emptied the closet
Of my dreams.

It stayed close.
It did not stir
When you knocked.
It did not open itself
To welcome the dulcet hymn
Of the thousand promises
You carried in your trunk.

There’s nothing wrong
With my door.
It works perfectly fine.
It opens and closes still
But on its own now.
No longer according
to your whims.

The hinges have learned
To say, “Enough!”


//Sherma E. Benosa
August 2, 2008; 1057pm

Hearse of Death

You were the promise that enticed
My soul to fly across the
Vast sky of cloudlessness
Toward forgetfulness;
Along landscaped fantasies.

You were the smile that lured
My spirit to swim across the
The vast ocean of weightlessness
Toward unrestrained waves
Of freely floating dreams.

I hugged the fleeting ecstasy
Of your warm embrace.
I basked in the ephemeral music
Of your haughty grace.
Because I lived for the thrill
Of staring at your hazy gaze.

But now, as you drag slowly by
In this procession of mistakes
I wake up from my trance
And finally see you as you are:
The lie that seized my spirit;
The hearse that carried me to my death.



[seb; 02 July 2008; 10:04pm]

Dayasadas ken Tarakitik

(Dua a Daniw a Maymaysa't Kaipapananda)


Dayasadas
(iti tawa ni sherma)

Dayyengnaka’t naumbi a nakaparsuaan
A kumkumpasan nalung-ay nga angin;
Is-iseman apagapaman a dariwanawar
Ti saguyepyepen nga agsapa.

Samiwengka a makaila; mangitunda’t
Alinegneg ti karayan ti agay-ayus a rikna;
Lagip bumangonda manipud mananglilipat
Nga isip; inaprosan nalamuyot a pul-oy.

Saibbeknaka’t naliday a nakaparsuaan
A dangdanggayan makipagrikna a palayupoy;
Im-imdengan pumakpakada a sipnget
Ti napuyatan, linammin a rabii.

Saning-ika a makauloy-rikna; mangitulod
Mangliwengliweng a yuyeng ti napaksuyan
A barukong; dagensen rumekkasda manipud
Nakaitalimengan a siled; puso a simked.

Ritmom, di agpaltos, agingga di agsarday
Bayakabak a mangsibug nagregkang a daga;
Kas met la bitek ti barukong; di umingga
Agingga adda anges ti napuyotan-a-tapok.


//Sherma E. Benosa
17 October 2007; 1:48 am



Bayakabak, Tarakitik
(a mangmangngeg ni VF iti kuartona)

Kansionka’t naragsak a lubong
A salaen ti naumbi a palayupoy
Palpaludipan dumteng nga anaraar
Ti agdudungsa a nasapa a bigat.

Musikaka a makailili; mangiturong
Alinsaed ti waig ti agar-aruyot a bitek;
Nagawan a ladawan ni lagip, nagsubli;
Dinuayya’n pug-aw naimnas nga ulimek.

Saning-inaka’t nakaiyanakan
A salsalaan makidanggay a palayupoy;
Dengdenggen agpukawen a riwet
Ti di nakaturog, nagkutimermer a kaltaang.

Ibitnaka a manggudas-rikna, mangiturong
Gayung-gayong a kalawakaw ti nabannog
A barukong, im-impen rumkuasda manipud
Nakaidulinan a sagumbi; bimmato a puso.

Kumpasmo di agriro, agingga di agtunged
Bayakabak a mangep-ep mawaw a rengngat;
A kas iti arungaing ti puso; di agpatinga
Agingga nga adda anges, pinarsua iti pitak.

//Clifton Pascua
18 October 2007

Cavern of Death

Echo the strangled moans
Of the shadows lurking
In your bottomless pit
Where dried tears of broken
Hopes walk with the fallen
Leaves of the dreams I
Once nurtured in my depths —

Now dried and breathless:
Just mere remnants of what
Could be that did not become.


Let go of the dark, thick liquid
In your crevice, threatening
To burst anytime and flood
The abyss of your nothingness.
The once-pulsating optimism
That fired at my veins and
Lighted my waking moments —

Now still and lifeless:
Just mere illusion that acquired
Flesh; already beaten and dead.




For those who perished in the Glorietta Blast and everyone who died in the hand of political injustice.


I first read some updates on the Glorietta blast before reading one of the novels in my collection: a somewhat romantic but definitely political novel (Of Love and Shadow by Isabel Allende) set in a Latin American country on the grip of dictatorship, and this is what I’ve become — utterly DEPRESSED. As the main characters in the novel discover the cavern into which the bodies of the desaparecidos (missing people) were thrown, images of those who died in Glorietta and the skeletons of the dug bodies in the novel kept flashing in my mind. So grotesque the sight I conjured that demons started beseeching me to write this depressing piece. Sorry…


//Sherma E. Benosa
27 October 2007; 3:37am

Kuliapis Nga Ay-ay

Makasiram ti apuy a sumgiab iti kaunggan ni ngata-ngata
Ket puoranna ti simbeng ti panagdaliasat ti agduadua a kararua
Dagiti agkatangkatang a dapan nga inulila ti nailibay a darepdep
Nga indaramudom ti kasipngetan, inadipen nagkaadu a derrep.

‘Di madaeran kuyep a mata ti makipinnerreng iti masakbayan
A tagtagibien aliaw impasngay kalman a di man la nagbalasang
Iduduayyan’ pilay nga agdama a nagpanawan narasi a namnama
Ilallallay saning-i ti dung-aw dagiti umar-arubayan nga aligaga.

Madaeranto ngata ti kired ni Elpis ti bang-i ti espiritu ni Moros
A nangkaras ubbog ni talinaay, nangruros sabong ti kurkuros
Idinto nga agsung-aben dagiti kalman a ramut a baglan ni puot
A dalanen koma dagiti sagibsib ngem inalun-on metten ni pungtot?

Uray la agallangogan dagiti sennay ti nakas-ang a pannakapaay
Ngem saan met a sumngaw dagiti boses ti kuliapis nga ay-ay.


Check out other version HERE. Or, read my other attempts at poetry HERE.


//Sherma E. Benosa
09 May 2008; 10:15pm

Odes to the Night

.
Obscure

The night is —

the wide canvas
upon which the moon paints
his mysterious smile.

the rich backdrop
against which the stars dance
gleefully.

Dark, he lives in obscurity.
Alone, he is nobody.

Yet, without him —
The moon’s smile would be bereaved of its allure.
And the stars’ dance would lose its grandeur.

There won’t be starlit skies
under which lovers exchange dreamy sighs!



Nigh Shift

The night —

He hears
the young mothers’ lullabies.
the insomniac’s nightly cries.
the lovers’ secret sighs.
the children’s bedtime pray’rs, their hearts’ desires.

He sees
the sleeping souls’ dreams.
the steps sleepwalkers make.
the crimes every thief commits.
the owls’ flights to the wilderness.

The night —

Is busy.
Tonight.
Every night.
He, too, is on the night shift!


//Sherma E. Benosa

Book on a Shelf

I am
On a shelf:
A book
Unread for years.

Each page
An unraveling of stories:
Whispered conversations
Words soft and strong;
A tangle of thoughts and emotions:
Laughter walking amidst flower beds
Tears swimming in deep ravines;
Good and evil on a fierce swordfight;
A passing of day and night;
A chronicle of a journey:
With a humble beginning
And an end yet untold.

Unread for years
A book
On a shelf:
I am.



//Sherma E. Benosa
23 October 2007; 11:00pm

Dagaang ti Abril

Salemsemen ti rikna
Iti dagaang ti Abril
Ta agbalayen ti dara
Iti lamiis dagiti arakup.
Nakuturan ket ngata
Dagiti naulila a parmata
Dagiti kimter a darang
Ti nasebseban a pluma.
Ta nupay makapurar ‘ta lawag
Sipnget latta met ti makita
Ta kimmudrepen dagiti mata
Ti narikpan a puso.
Awan met ngaminen
Dagiti makaay-ayo a buya
Liwliwa agkukutel a rikna.
Ta agsalawasaw metten
Dagiti talawataw a saka
Ken agkusilapen
Dagiti siping a dila.

//Sherma E. Benosa
18 April 2008; 3:25pm
.

Iruruk-at

.
‘Di mawingiwingan naumbi nga awis
Agur-uray panagtalaytay manen
Dara kadagiti urat ti napipikel a nakem

Ta nupay impierno ti makalunag iti bato
Saan a maigawid panagbitek ti puso.

Maatiananto dagiti bubon ni sanaang
Umarakupto met laeng bara ni alikaka
Ket maruk-atanto naibalud a simbeng

Ta nupay natulawan nagpakadan a kalman
Adda minas a nasikkarud dagiti dapan.

.
//Sherma E. Benosa
09 June 2008; 12:45am
.

Iti Kannag ti Kaltaang

.
Agtadekak man, ta naiwagatkon a namimpinsan
Dagiti aliaw a nangadipen iti kaunggan.

Ta awandan a matimudko dagiti aligagaw ni buteng
Tunggal lumabas iti paraangan agal-allangogan
Nga arimpadek dagiti agkalkallautang nga anniniwan.

Makiin-innisemak met ngaminen iti kannag ti kaltaang;
Isu a wen, gayyem, patiek a namimpinsan
Nauman nga agsaknap dagiti nadawel a lidem
Nausawan ket ngatan ti nangbartek kadakuada nga ilem.


//Sherma E. Benosa
27 April 2008; 10:46am
.

Rendezvous

Blank are her brown eyes
As they stare into the void
Too dark is the night.

For the moon is tired
From her nightly rendezvous
She won’t come tonight.

Crickets, they’re silent
They’ve been told many a time:
Sometimes, songs torment.

Ev’n the oft nice wind
Is in sour mood; tonight a
Bitchy company.

Yet, in the darkness
She sits a-waiting for peace
To hand her its grace.

She lifts a finger
To lips unpainted, unkissed
No sensation there.

She heaves a faint sigh
As she softly shakes her head
A whimper is heard.

Then crystals glisten
Building up then falling down,
Forming a river.

Rolling down the planes
And slopes of her pallid cheeks
Down to her soft neck.

Sad are her brown eyes
When she shut them off the void
This night dared offer.

She too is quite tired
From her daily rendezvous
Yet she came tonight.


Sherma Benosa
7/14/2006 4:25:15 AM

Autumn in Summer

It’s summer; the sun’s smiling brightly
But autumn reigns inside me.
Like a tree who just lost a leaf
Inside me, there is grief.
I am a vast sky on stormy nights
Forsaken by the moon, bereft of stars.

Help me feel I am no tree
And you are not a leaf;
You are a river, and I am a creek.
From different springs, we came together
To flow side by side
But the time has come that we must travel apart.

I flow on by, as I know you would.
Have faith, let us both believe
We will entwine somewhere, someday again.
And when we each reach destiny’s ocean
Trust that we will be one water again, my friend.
Until then..


//Sherma E. Benosa;
02 April 2008; 1:20pm

Balasang ti Bambang

Kansionanka man, O balasang ti Bambang
balasang a napintas nga innak pagrukbaban
itoy nga aldaw nga inka panagkanaganan
panagtaom, ita ken iti agnanayon, diakto kalipatan.

Isagutko kenka toy ayatko a nagpaiduma
bitbituen sadiay langit, purosekto amin ida
inayonko diay bulan aramidekto a kas korona
nga ibalangat dita ulom, selnaganna ‘ta sadia.

Iyawatko a naimpusuan dagiti pinilik a rosas
karagupna metten dagiti napudno nga arasa-as
ti talingenngen ni Kari, saanto a manasanas
panangtagiben kapia-ni-tulag, dinto pulos agkupas.

Itden koma ti Apo ita nga aldaw a panagkasangaymo
pannakataginayon ni ragsak, regta, salun-at ken dungngo
ni pangipateg ken ni Ayat, agsadag dita barukongmo
tapno inta manibi dagiti tarigagay ken kari ti dua-a-puso.

Kansionanka ngarud O Pintas ti Bambang
sapata ni kinapudno dim’ to koma kalipatan
ta awanton sabali nga innak tarigagayan
no di ‘ta ayatmo, Anghel nga innak pagraywan.


//Birthday song from Mr. Clifton Pascua
March 2007

Hymn Within Me

.
There is a hymn inside my heart that begs to be sung,
Waiting for my wobbly fingers to strum
The strings of my soul’s discordant melody.

But my lips refuse to sing the notes
That would pull my soul out of the void;
For though it badly needs to hear the music
It fears the thundering boom of the drums.

So I sit around, hoping for someone to play a song
All the while knowing it’s got to be me;
I wait here, daydreaming for a concerto
All the while knowing my ears have become deaf
To the music of the life around me.

Tell me, how can I sing my heart’s tune
Without first fixing the pitch of my thoughts?
I’ve forgotten my lines, I can’t relate to the melody;
Sing to me, sing to me so that I may remember
That there is a hymn that begs to be sung within me.


//Sherma E. Benosa
18 May 2008; 5:46pm