Saturday, December 8, 2007

A Christmas tale by P.B. Robosa

Some years ago, for Christmas, I wrote a story as a Chirstmas gift to my wife, I gave her the copy of my first draft and vowed to elaborate it later when I will be able to publish it in a book along with my other stories. Well, the book is still a dream and the first draft remained untouched but its almost Christmas and I'm happy to share it with you.

The Tree of a Thousand Years
By: P.B.Robosa


Do you remember the story that the sky was once close to the earth? This was true. The sky was close to the earth and it was held by a tree that only lives for a thousand years. So for every thousand years or so the sky was in danger of falling down to earth and crushing everything on it, except of course, that their will be another tree ready to hold it up again. This would happen at the end of the year and at the beginning of the next so people then would wait quietly and anxiously at the end of the year, to the last minute, then broke in celebration on the first minute of the next year if the sky didn’t fall.
Nothing has yet seen this tree and many tried. It was said that a rainbow should point the way because its center is believed to be the highest part of the sky so perhaps the tree is there. So whenever a rainbow appears many would head out to its center. Finding the tree would be a great quest but also of enormous rewards because many believe that at the tree’s feet, gushes all the waters of the earth and from this the purest. From its branches, all fruit and flowers of the earth, even gold and silver, sprout and blooms. But best of all anyone who reaches it will have their hearts desire fulfilled, Once under the tree, one fears no ill weather, no hunger, no thirst, no loneliness and no pain. It would have been a great find for anyone indeed.
The bird Sayong wanted to see this tree and like many others he set out one day at the most beautiful of rainbows. The problem with Sayong was that he couldn’t fly like other birds because he was weighted down, endowed with many things because he was a peacock. He had a beautiful crown, shiny iridescent coat of feathers and a most wonderful tail that looked like it was studded with jewels. Sayong was encumbered by these trappings and a haughty and heavy heart that did not know how to love. So like the others he walked towards the rainbow.
After a while many have fallen back and discontinued the journey and only the most determined continued including Sayong. By nightfall the rainbow was gone and many others travelers and those that were left sat around a fire to keep warm. Sayong sat beside a tired Rooster who was staring at his crown. “My dear peacock,” said the Rooster, “you have such a beautiful crown.” “Do you get much praise from it?” “Yes I do,” said Sayong, “In fact I would give it to anyone quite easily because the endless praise it gets has become quite annoying.” “I would love to have them,” answered the Rooster quickly, “because that is why I am here, to look for praise which I have never had in my life and I fear I will die without it.” “I will give it to you if give me something in return.” said Sayong, “what do you have that you can give me?” Well they say I only have character, would you take some of my character?” “All right, said Sayong, taking off some of his crown and giving it to the Rooster for some of the Rooster’s character. At once Sayong felt some of his character and began to smile at himself.
The next evening at the fire, Sayong sat beside a tired looking Owl which kept looking at his iridescent feathers. “Did you get much learning my dear peacock? Your feathers are quite marvelous they look like the garment of a great philosopher.” “Yes,” answered Sayong, “I get much prestige from it but since the Rooster gave me some character last night I seem to feel no use for them.” “Prestige--you say?” retorted the Owl, “that is what I’m here for, I only have wisdom but I do not get much prestige, would you trade some of your coat with some of my wisdom?” “Gladly.” said Sayong.
On the next night, Sayong met a lonely looking white dove who kept looking at his tail feathers. “You have such beautiful tail feathers,” said the dove, “I wish I was born with some of them so I will not look so plain but beautiful like you. Sayong now with some character and wisdom offered “Would you like some of them, I’ll be glad to give you some.” “Really,” said the dove, “but I can only give you back some love which is all I have.”
“What is that?” Asked Sayong who did not know what love was. “No matter I’ll take it anyway, here are some of my tail feathers.” continued Sayong. Suddenly he felt very light and for the first time Sayong tried his flightless wings and he began to fly. He flew high up into sky and he was so happy he flew and flew and flew. At the very highest he did not feel the cold that was beginning to freeze his feathers, raindrops and wind began to buffet him but he continued on flying until at last he felt very tired and began his descent. A soon as the clouds parted from below him he saw a most majestic tree in front of him. It glittered with all manner of good things and Sayong immediately knew what it was and he headed for it.
Sayong perched on one of it branches and the tree moved feeling his presence. A voice from the tree began to talk. “Do you know where you are dear bird? You are in paradise and perhaps you are already dead for no one enters here alive.” “It does not matter anymore” answered Sayong “I am happy because I have found the tree of a thousand years.” The voice answered from the tree “The tree of a thousand years is the downfall of men, it is here that my Master was betrayed by the first man and woman who were lured and corrupted by its beauty. Up to this day it corrupts the world by its empty promises, that is perhaps why you are here. Yet my Master brings hope into the world by sending his son to destroy these promises and replace it with the promise of hope, no longer will men look from outside of themselves for nourishment, sustenance and freedom, but if they looked very hard, these they will find in their hearts.” And Sayong understood that his quest has ended and he stayed in paradise perched on the tree of a thousand years with his beauty, character, wisdom and love.
Everything came to pass in the world and a child was born to end all endless quests, and men most not look elsewhere but into their own hearts. The Rooster ever since was praised by men who removed its crown, the Owl had prestige but never got to show it because it came out only at night, the Dove never liked his tail feathers and today it has become symbol of love. Sometimes we never know what we will get until we stop wishing for it and we wait, What is true is that there is always joy in giving, whether it is a loving father giving his son away out of love, giving one’s life for others, or a Peacock giving all that he is about so he may truly feel real joy and freedom. We should remember these lessons at Christmas that it is not what we receive that gives us joy but what and when we give. To this very day we decorate the Christmas tree to remind us of another tree that holds up the sky and bears all things beautiful, why don’t we let it stay there till the New Year, lest the sky fall.



The End

Tuesday, November 6, 2007

Pinaka-Oreng Pa-aram
Ni Dr. Jose P. Rizal
Itinaga-Baao ni P.B. Robosa

Paaram ragang kinagisngan, potos nin kaliwanagan
Perlas sa dagat subangan, na-uudang kamurawayan
masingaya kong dara, patapos ag mamundong buway,
kun tibaad kuntana ini mas makintab, bago ag sagana,
itaatatao tolos man diyaday para sa kanimong karayan.

Sa raga kin labanan, sa init kan labo-labong sabatan
pusuan tolos na ibubuklad, an buway saimo idudusay,
maski sari, puon kin tanom, sa takay o sa lubid bitayan
patag man o talbongan kan binitay , labanan o kasakitan
dyaday man an buway, ilalatag kun ayaton ka banwaan.

Pa-aram na sa buway pag langit sumilaw ag nag aninag
senyas kan tapos kan ngitngit sa silaw kan bagong ramrag
kun kulang a pagkapula kuyan na namumulaag mong aldow
ibulos ag iluyap an pula ka rugo sa kanakong mga ugat,
itugma sa nagpupuon mong aldow na mabukang liwanag.

Pangitorogan ko ko ako igin pa, padagos angan nagdakulo
pagitorogan angan nagin tawo, nagkukusog angan nagtalubo
Namapandawan ka, kanamong perlas ka sirangan dagat
oda lua an maitom mong mga mata, tulid a kiray sa angog
di nagmundo o nagngongorot oda mantsa kin pagkasupog

hanap-anap ka kanakong buway, mawot ko angan pa man
Tara! babaoy kana kalag ko na sumusuway ag babayaan
Tara!Aba-a nang raay na mauda tangaining ika mabuway
mag-raan ta tumindog ka, nakaasag sakanimong kalangnitan
Sa raga mong malumok, magturog tuninong uda katapusan

kun usad na aldow ika makakoko, sa kanakong linubngan
nagtatarok kaiba sa mga doot usad na bumobukang burak
irokot mo kanimong mga ngabil ta ako kanimong inarkan
ag mamatean ko sa angog maski sa irarom kan lubongan
a maimbong mong inga-inga, pagpayaba mo mamamatean .

Pabayaeng a aninag ka bulan roktan ako kin luway-luway
Togote na ako kumintab sa mga silyab kan bagong sirang
a na angin pababayaeng mag-oyop oyop kin kamundoan
ag minsan kun agko tumogpa sa krus usad na gam-gam
pabayaeng maghingalo ag magsiwit kin katoninongan

Sa init kan aldow, paalisngawa pagkabasa kin tubig uran
tanganing agrangay ko sa langit paitaas man darahon
ludok na inabot kan buhay ko bayae kin iba pagtangisan
pagsinarom kan apon ag kun ako ipinapangadyi man
Banwaan, tabi ipagnayo-ngayo na sa Dios ako magingalo

pangadyi mo man su ngamin na ma-irak na nauda
su ngamin na nagagi kin di maisip na manga kasakitan
para sa mga ina ta na di matapos an mga panambitan
para sa mga ilo, mga balo ag mga rakop na pinasakitan
panadyean man Banwaan an na kanimong katalingkasan

saka kun gabi matauban na kin riknum an kamposanto
Oda nag aantabay kundi mga guiraan na sanang gayo
Di pag ribuka an muraway o bugawon an misteryo
ag kun marungog mo an tunog kan gitara o harpa
ako yan padaba kong banwaan saimo nagkakanta

Pag ining linubngan kanako di na basang mabisita
ni ono na basang krus o bato na natutudang tanda
ipaarado mo sa paraoma angan a raga iluyap niya
a abo ko bago malopa na ag di na papakinabangan
bayaeng mapino ag maging polbo sa ragang kaiwasan

hangan sa di na kaipohan an ako man marumruman
liliboton ko an maiwas mong langit, bukid o patag
maludok ta ikang kakantahan hangang ika mananok
sa kolor, ta-mis ag ugong ka kanakong panambitan
sa pagkaboot ag kamuyawan saimong da kataposan

Payaba kong Banwaan, ika kanakong kamondoan
Filipinas kan buway, ironga ining kanakong paaram
babayaan ko kanimo, mga kag-igin, mga nabootan
Lugar na uda mga uripon ana kanakong pai-iiyanan
kun sari pagtubod ay buway, Dios an may kahadean

Paaram, mga kag-igin, mga ngod, mga parte ko buway
mga kayamon ko sa pobreng baloy na naroromroman
mamuya kamo na ako umaabot na sa kahingaloan
paaram nakagnirit na dayuhan, kaiba ko sa kumuyawan
paaram sa ngamin na nabootan, a pagraan kapahingaloan

Wednesday, October 3, 2007

To My Daughters
P.B.Robosa

Soon the day is gone
like any afternoons and sunsets
but the moon rises
like the sudden smiles on your faces
or hides as in your occasional frowns
or your freckles show likes stars
A large one here, a small one at the corner.
We looked up at them many times
on the cool evenings we had time to share.
Someday you will be away
but distance and time will not
separate us but only will make me
remember and will put a smile on
my face, that I once, to you,
was a sheltering sky
and once a navigator
pointing at the
morning star.

Monday, September 10, 2007

Waiting for Christmas and the Lost Trees of Baao Park

This happy love of forgotten years,
shadowed beneath drooping leaves
of the rain trees and fire trees of old
could you not stay and bear the cold

A little time more, in a heart's quickstep

join me on this vigil, in sleepy depth
the stars are beaming and the sun is lost
the bell tolling now for the day's ghost

bursting stars flowing behind clouds
of pale white angels with golden crowns
and the crystal moon brings silvery sheen
on this windy chill of September again.

The tranquil trees huddle in whisper
as we dream of them to again reappear
swaying stronger and stronger till December
but we awake as the cheap lights flicker

Sunday, July 1, 2007

A Model for Generations.

BEA IMPERIAL SAW: WRITING HISTORY HERE AND NOW
History is written in hindsight, but history is created here and now. It is at the most welcome triumph of one of the daughters of Baao, Bea Imperial Saw that compelled me to write about her. Like all Filipinos I followed lightly but later on was transfixed to the TV set as the drama unfolded at the PBB House. Real life is really as dramatic if not more so than fiction. Characters that you see most of the time played from a script appear and happen in real life. I write history to find and show examples of heroism and admirable character so that they may be taught to the young in the hope that someday these are the kind of people they grow up to. Bea surprises me because in my lifetime I saw in her the traits that I only pick from my readings and sometimes make believe that they are inherent in my heroes. Unlike popular celebrities, Bea did not get to the hearts of the Filipinos because she was beautiful or one who knew how to sing, dance and act, but got to it because of her strength, fortitude and childlike humility all of them played out in front of a national audience. Her reactions towards the actions and counter-reactions of her anti-theses Wendy and the one I forgot already, plays out in my head and would be unforgetable through the years. It's like watching Manny Pacquiao slugging it out, except this time it was wits, feelings, words and actions instead of fists. I will be of no surprise if someday, if not one of these days, some writer would label her as the epitome of what is good, true and beautiful about the Filipina youth and worthy as a model of character for our troubled times. If Bea doesn't do a Nora Aunor later in life, again Baao is blessed with a Baaoeno of national stature to be added to our growing pantheon of worthy Baaoeno personalities. I may not be there to write about her so i'm taking my chance now.

Saturday, June 9, 2007

Nightfall


Amber colored clouds cling close to the cliffs,
waters wash ashore ushering the rushing tides,
and the sun slowly slips silently to the sea
Soon the day slumbers, soon it will be nightfall.

You took me my love on a bright brilliant day,
you caught my eye with your sparkling eyes.
My chest heaved with life again and my head
began to float hovering and hanging in space

I followed you with my thoughts and feared
the day I would say goodbye and thank you.
Hoping that somehow after all we will remain
friends, not more, just see you, hear your voice.

Somehow I prayed I won’t slip and lose you
in one of these long conversations at nightfall.
When the darkness veils this dazed passion
and calms this heaving heart eager for you.

Stillness, silence, sleep soothe this silly soul,
keep my love calm and eager still waiting for me.
It is the new moon and window sills begin to glow,

she awaits, I hope it will be dark soon at nightfall.
Cut Myself Shaving


Cut myself shaving one day
with an old razor and saw myself
on the mirror with blood
on my fingers.
I did it once, when I was younger
and my features were clear
but now the scar’s
nowhere in my face.
I’ve stopped to be disturbed about
what I feel and others say
when I have none to blame
but myself.
Better I suppose to be unconcerned
with what happens today
because who cares
it will happen anyway.
I’ve lost my steady hand and
my skin starts to wrinkle
and sooner or later
I’ll cut myself again.
Shadows

Shadows dance on the flat floor
of my house
and memories return of a house
Long gone
blown down by a storm.

Those years were dark and poor
yet happy ones
with everybody in the house
even the stray boy
and the cats.

I learned to love in that house.
to laugh at troubles
and to await later triumphs
Just as sure as the sun
finally comes out

and light washes away
the shadows after
a storm.
Around My House


To the east sits steady
Ki Agang’s throne
A splendid blue volcano
where the sun slips in at dawn

The south sprawls a cacophony
of people, friends and kin
clump of trees and concrete
to lose cares in the busy din.

The vast north open boundless
where soothing breeze begin
and Simurai skims the clouds
and the road to dreams open

Sunsets to the west bodes peace
and balmy tranquility sleeps
at Baao lake where my people began
with God’s glory, grandeur, and gifts.
At Barlin Park

Summers end at Barlin park
beneath St. Bartholomew’s
I’d climb the stone bulwark
slippery and wet with dew
and see the town anew

then I would jump free
to the soft grass below
on scraped hands and knee
as others would follow
and roll away triumphantly

and the monkey bars will call
and we clamber up the device
arm over arm we’d crawl
through a gauntlet of pipes
till at last our breath sufficed

no one remembered home
and we wished for the rain
scanning the clouds that roam
as we cleared the grass of grain
where last summer we had lain

come at last the first raindrops
from skies turning grey and dim
I’d close my eyes to the drops
till water reach grass tips rim

and lift me off a carpet of green

Tuesday, May 15, 2007

THE SHADOW MAIDEN

In our islands long ago, before the Spanish came, here lived a wondrous kingdom. It was ruled by an old king who had two sons who were already young men. The first, Prince Ma-kusog, was a strong and was a fearsome warrior. The other, was Prince Booton who was a scholar and a poet. When the old king died, Makusog became king and from that day on his kingdom did not know peace. Quarrelsome and fierce, he was always at war with the other kingdoms.When he was not at war, he made bloody incursions into the forest beside his kingdom, hunting and killing all the animals that crossed his path. Possessing a more merciful heart, Prince Booton would run ahead of his brother during these hunts and scared away most of the animals.One day, after killing a sacred bird, the guardian of the forest, Diwata Araw-ena appeared. She pleaded to the King and his companions stop and leave the forest alone. Her tears flowed down her cheeks that had the color of sunset clouds and the teardrops fell to the ground like moonbeams. She was very beautiful because she was the daughter of Hadeng Aldaw, the sun and Reyna Bulan, the moon. The two brothers, Ma-kusog and Booton fell in love with her.The King thought she would make a fine Queen and sent spies to follow her. At the Royal house, he prepared ten baskets of gold and fine jewels. When the spies arrived at sunrise he sent his messenger and some slaves with his gifts to ask for her hand. By sunset they returned still with the gifts and a messenger who was not too happy with his news. The impatient Ma-kusog was told that Araw-ena refuses any man specially one who has too much blood in his hands. Ma-kusog’s heart was stung as if by a thousand bees because men who look strong are actually weaklings and Ma-kusog was one of them.In the kingdom lived a witch who was known to employ evil spirits and Ma-kusog kept her for occasions like this. Seeing her master burning with rage when he ordered her to punish Araw-ena, the witch resolved to do everything in her power. She summoned the dust spirit that flies with the wind and brought pestilence and the water spirit that flow with the river and harden the skin. With her two companions, they traveled through the forest and found Araw-ena. Taking all the power that could be had from all envy and jealousy in men’s hearts and all blackness and hardness that settled on the bottom from hatred and anger, they succeeded in turning Araw-ena to stone.Hadeng Aldaw, who was shining that day, saw all this but his infinite patience only allowed him to let his daughter’s shadow to escape. Spending so much of her power, the old witch grew weaker and weaker disappeared never to be seen again. When Booton found the once beautiful maiden turned to stone, he was stricken with grief but he did not lose hope. Every day he went to the stone and talked to it as if it were alive. At night he sang and serenaded to it hoping that his words of love would soften the stone and break the spell.Many days passed and the words and the songs did not succeed and Booton exhausted, lay beside the stone, until the winds and the forest took pity on him. The grass knew where Araw-ena’s shadow went,they still had its footprints. The east wind, Sirangan, knows her and called her out of the darkness. The south wind, Amihan, who knew every secret because she traveled at night, had found out how to break the spell. The north wind, Timog, the strongest brought the shadow to the stone. Now everything was ready but they had to consult the west wind, Sulnopan, because he sits around all day doing nothing but think.The spell could be broken, Sulnopan said, but because too many evil hearts were used, they had to have one good heart. So they all hung their heads in despair and stilled the air not knowing what to do. Until Booton decided to do one final sacrifice for his beloved Araw-ena. He prayed to Gugurang, the all-knowing to make his heart worthy and then he offered it to the winds. The winds took what they needed and did what they had to do and restored Araw-ena.But it was too much for the young prince and he died at Araw-ena’s feet. When Araw-ena learned of Booton’s sacrifice she felt the beatings of love in her heart that had once beaten in Booton’s heart.Taking Booton’s body to her mother the moon, Araw-ena asked her to bury the body in Reyna Bulan’s home, the night sky. But Booton’s goodness could not be hidden, it had to shine through. So to this very day, when we look up to the night sky, we can see it---they are the stars that you see glittering in a calm and moonless night..

AFTER A FIGHT


You came with daylilies woven in your hair
and with the long lost smiles I missed so much
and in response I gave a halfhearted grin
but felt it too inadequate for the occasion
and found my fingertips parting your tresses
and drawing lines on your forehead keeping
my tears from running all over my face
I thought long and then with my hands
fancied and thought up an oracle on your head
To keep in it a secret shrine of remembrance
Of our sorrows, the solemn moments of silence
After a fight when we felt each other rather than talked
And left the poison of pain whisper harshly into our hearts
At this place I perceived how I drank myself out
and made myself hollow to hear your voice there
echoing your presence and filling myself with your scent.
I felt your hair brush my skin and in resignation
we embraced in our solitude and I breathed
the fragrance of the flowers in your hair.

DEPOSITION AT GOLGOTHA

As forlorn widows mourn
soldiers signaled the bystanders
depart the place and Joseph
and his helpers hastened for the ladder
and the pincers wet with rain.
Two men clambered up
the crossbeam and anchored
a rope to hold his body
and commenced to loose the nails
from the wood as the crown of thorns
fell silently to the ground.
The cross shuddered gently
in the pounding repeating
the sounds of the wrathful deed
done hours before.
Soon he was on the ground,
with his mother cradling him,
wiping his face and bloodying her dress.
The echo of “Consummatum est”
Reverberates in the Darkness
and does not end grimly
but sprinted in the dying dusk
following the wailing
along the climbing trail
on to heaven relentless like trumpets
after a victory.

AN ARTIST'S LIFE


I held my brush posed to dab in
an impressionised peacock
with a full compliment of colors
that will make me immortal
to the eyes of pretentious
Gurus in dimly lit galleries
with blue-blooded connoisseurs
ready with a pen and check
to acquire a new investment.
Soon the brushworkand the spirit dries
and I return to the back street
studio where the hue of the gouache
in my palette hardly changed
still glowed with my spites
and my fancies and my delusions of fame
Soon they will fade
and I’ll realize that the hillocks
behind the house is myMontmartre
and my bare table
is a worthy still life
and my dreams are avant-garde
moderns waiting to be understood
and I’ll enjoy my blessed Renaissance
every time I buy a lottery ticket

MANGO LEAVES

As I sit on my long, chainsaw-hewn bench
I so carefully constructed beneath this vast
umbrella of Indian mango leaves,
I scanfor my daughters’ carved initials,
done by their clumsy fingers with a rusty nail.
Only indecipherable, random marks
of scratched wood grain remain.
They survived those sun filled days,
finding refuge in this consecrated playground,
within rustic concrete walls,
as the fierce winds
of the winter habagat roared incessantly.
Their tricycle broken down awhile back,
consumed by playful abuse,
as I was.
Now the silence yields itself to futile,
frantic human attempts,
as I idly watch
these unstoppable signs of age thrust
its way through these barren moments
wrenching my daughters away from me.
But I’ll wait under this leafy canopy,
when they come back next Summer.

BETEL NUT EUPHORIA

My heart is a red piece of areca
it curls in deep and dark in betel leaf
smelling like a dream you can hold in your hand.
Smooth, warm, and whispering
bite deep enough and you can feel
blood streaking with powders of lime
and the purest crimson ink

And if you bite even deeper
and the sun hits you just the right way . . .
your completely transparent
and devoid of all that is tangible and contained
For that moment
even if you can't hold it
it can surely hold you
heartbeats more and your whole and floating
your thoughts and dreams now opaque
already memory is only wisps of song
until you wet your ears with saliva
and shake away the stupor encircling your head

SPARROW WAVES

From the window pane
rice fields stretch and shimmer
westward slivers a path
out of gaze along the winding vale.
Ancient farmers gave names
to winds from certain places
with a sense of the invisible
that I first felt and remembered

Sea from the blue sky,
thousands of sparrows
dappled its face
I didn't know there
was a word for life's desires
to leap out of itself
now looking down and--
swooping--past my window
and I stand still in wonder.

FATHER

Metal toolboxes stares
like cluttered witnesses
to the greasy craftsman
toiling wire, belts and chains
wafting the gasoline smelling
breeze unafraid of black-lung
sitting on a low bench
on the mottled dirt carpet.
I remember Jesus visible
as he pulls and pushes
forming magic and toys
for bristle faced tots with
shaggy hair and dirt covered shorts.
Then oil-stained fingers finally caress
the hastily made orange spider,
the longed for bric-a brac of scraps
and scampers away contented
squealing for their roosts

Tuesday, April 24, 2007

Ruwariw

Long ago they covered the marsh
A black mass of feathers
redheaded moorhens gone awry
they that can hold
the slender reeds that bend
to hide their shadow
sand their own swaying
they and the fading breeze
are one to spring out
Inviting the dark to dance
To sift through the branches
of the bush and grass
To remind me when I look back
That once they were there
Even when everything else is gone