Unremembered Catharsis 

Poetry by | February 10, 2013

And I blame it on
how you look at me and then suddenly,
you took control the universe of my thought
like whirlwind brushing against the afternoon sky
or like waterfalls that splashes and gushes forth
into my boundless sea of desire
or maybe like fire that flares
love and lust with cold coal,
burning yet yearning for more
or like mounds of earth that crushes my roots
of wisdom and reason
because it seems that your eyes speak
a thousand things
of bliss, of passion, of love
that I myself failed to discern
before.
Hate me,
but I would love to blame
those eyes over and over
again
for wanting and desiring
and desiring and wanting
you more.


Henrietta Diana de Guzman is a graduate of Creative Writing at UP Mindanao. She was a fellow for poetry at the 2009 Davao Writers Workshop and at the 2nd Sulat DULA: Playwriting Workshop at Xavier University (Ateneo de Cagayan University). Some of her works have appeared in SunStar Davao and the Best of Dagmay anthology.

Indulging in a Cup of Black Coffee

Poetry by | June 17, 2012

For JMS

I have had to come up with
various techniques to stop
myself thinking about how
to savor this hot and bitter
black coffee without
thinking about jaded thoughts;
the never-ending persuasion
of warm faces, of me moving
to their department ,
-wanting me to stop thinking
because there’s none to doubt about.
or the steam faint vapor waking like
loin girding shouts of unfamiliar souls
whom I only spoke with during a phone call,
or the barren poems and jumbled
metaphors, thirsting, waiting
for me to pen their existence down
on a piece of cold
and crisp white paper; to let them live
in a majestic universe
they deserve to own.
or the clear vision of you
and that girl walking in the rain,
sharing one umbrella,
trudging a journey, leaving footprints of bliss
stirring me to sudden melancholy,
or the lurid idea that stimulates me
to think , to go on
to taste the reality of fortune, of a ‘yes’
though my heart always
sip and drink down a caffeinated ‘no’
because in a pure, honest and
absent minded stupidity, I want
to stay because
I love you.
And this is the only catharsis
the sole epiphany
I have kept and own.
To continue
loving you,
To stay,
to stop thinking
and start finishing
a cup of
hot and bitter
black coffee.


Henrietta Diana de Guzman is a graduate of Creative Writing at UP Mindanao. She was a fellow for poetry at the 2009 Davao Writers Workshop and at the 2nd Sulat DULA: Playwriting Workshop at Xavier University (Ateneo de Cagayan University). Some of her works have appeared in SunStar Davao and the Best of Dagmay anthology.

Miss Ganda

Play by | January 10, 2010

MGA TAUHAN:

Maggie Dela Victoria: Labing-siyam na taong gulang na student Nurse. Maganda. Makapal kung mag make-up.
C.I. Leon De Lima: Clinical Instructor nila Maggie at Rhea. Boyfriend ni Liza. Naka-eyeglasses.
Liza Mandacawan: Girlfriend ni Leon. Pasyente sa bed A.
Nurse Tan: Ang NOD (Nurse On Duty sa eleven to seven shift) sa Delivery room
Dr. Ruiz: Ang magpapaanak sa mga pasyente.
Rhea Valera: Matalino, ngunit pangit na classmate ni Maggie.
Patient 2: Pasyente sa bed B
Patient 3: Pasyente sa bed C

Lunan at oras ng dula: Gabi. Makalat ang tatlong hospital beds sa Delivery room ng Davao Medical Center. Lahat ay busy sa pag-aasikaso ng kani-kanilang endorsement call. Si Doktor Ruiz, Nurse Tan, at C.I Leon lang ang on duty. Pupunta ang studyanteng si Rhea sa bed B at uumpisahan ang pag-assess sa kanyang pasyente. Si Leon naman ay uupo sa Nurse station table at uumpisahang i- checheck ang Student Nurse Records. Biglang bubukas ang pintuan. Mahingal-hingal na dadating si Maggie.

Continue reading Miss Ganda

Encounters

Events, Fiction by | March 4, 2009

Beyond the frames of the glass windows of Davao Medical Center was the cold hard rain. I glanced at the wall clock: 3:05. Time for endorsement call; but I could not free myself from lingering thoughts and the sound of a familiar name. The ceiling fan was not working again. Sweat trickled down my forehead down to my nose and lips; some droplets on my neck glided towards my nape. I felt sweat from my chin trickle down to my throat onto the sides of my breasts and, after finding the main freeway, explore my navel: I had already bathed.

The sharp blend of odors in the Nurses’ station was shaking my consciousness: the scent of oranges, a nearby diabetic’s necrotic foot, an open bottle of rubbing alcohol, the smell of fresh blood expelled from a womb contracting from the neighboring Delivery Room, and spilled urine on the floor from a patient’s urobag. It was exhausting.

Or, perhaps, it was creating a different kind of delusion.

The name?

What’s the name again? The diagnosis?

“Divinagracia, Maria Ana.”

Continue reading Encounters

Oblivion

Poetry by | January 11, 2009

Dedicated to Kristoffer Alibangbang

The dawn is breaking rapidly
like hundred light years have
passed away over the omniscient horizon,
mirroring my heart nestled into
patterned solitude.

…because I have to find the panoramic view of
life. Eyeing differently from gleaming stars, moons and
shadows of light that reflects his cherub façade,

… because I, vowed to see each butterflies and how
they undergone several epiphanies every morning, with
flowers around them, frothed in rain drops, coaxed
by the sun. Leaving me empty with my scratch papers,
lines and silenced metaphors.

…because words are just words. But he composes a bucket of
strayed fragments that I should let go of- to decipher these words
are not just words.

… maybe because , my mind just aches, overfed with this cathartic malady.

…and maybe because, I want to get cured though I know I loved to be severe.

Continue reading Oblivion

Ang Tsismosang si Tiya Piling

Poetry by | September 28, 2008


Wa pa gani miusbaw ang adlaw
Si Tiya, nagsugod nag latagaw
Sa gawas sa balay ginasugdan
chismis na murag way kahumanan.
“Dre’, kabaw baka sa nahitabo?”
“Day, kabaw ko unsa iyang tuyo.”
“Ay da! Baho daw kag ilok..”
“Siya? Tamad daw ug palahubog.”
“Unsa? Iya nang gi- ‘storya Piling?”
“Kabaga baya sa iyang aping!”
“Nya, puti ba di ay iyang ilok?”
“Bagag nawng! Mura bayag mulihok!”
Continue reading Ang Tsismosang si Tiya Piling

Pangaral ni Juan Tamad kay Kasoy

Poetry by | March 23, 2008

Batid kong hirap ka sa kinatatayuan mo
ngayon kaibigang kasoy.
Oo nga’t madilaw at mukha kang matamis
kapag hinog
subalit bakit pagkatao
mo’y nasa kinalahati?
Alam kong sa loob nakalakip ang iyong
walang hanggang pagsisisi
at sa labas nakausli
dunong at kagandahan
na iyong inasam;
sa labas ng iyong kampana
tila mukha kang nagbigti.
Continue reading Pangaral ni Juan Tamad kay Kasoy