MGA DAGDAG NA TULA PARA KAY CHAD BOOC
4. ODE TO AN ABRIDGED LIFE
(On confronting the fate of Chad Booc)
by Pablo Tariman
Grief is infinitely real
When people die young
In the prime of their lives.
You can see
That it was a well-spent youth
Nurtured by concern for the common man
Along with a zest for life
He found anomalous
In a sea of deception.
But then young men with energy
Die young
Like Mozart gone at 35
And who once said:
‘I am one of those who will go on doing
Till all doings are at an end.’
I am 73
I sometimes
I imagine how it is
Dying in your 20s, 30s,40s, 50s
And living An abridged life.
Would I have been spared
The torments of my senior years?
Would I have been better off
Not living the pandemic
With a life
Cut short by accident, sudden illness
Or a nightmare?
Moreover
Old age gives you
What the young don’t get to see
In their lifetime.
You witness the birth
And death of the best
People in the arts
And the cinematic turn
Of their lives.
When you live a bit longer
You see the rise and fall of fortunes
Sad chapters of marriages
And the eternal sadness
That happily brought out
The best in them.
You have seen
The best and worst of leaders.
You have lived the best and worst of times.
You have witnessed how dictators fall.
And will likely witness the fall of another one.
You see the birth of legendary beauties
And their beautiful
As well as sad lives.
You have lived endless sunshine
And stormy weather.
Would you have been better off
Not living in cyberage
Doing away with tablets
And laptops
And complicated passwords
In the new era
Of zoom press conferences?
When activists die young
I connect easily
Even if I didn’t share
A good slice
Of their abridged life.
Was that death meant
To spare them
From more uncanny chapters
Of living a life?
I suppose
You learn the precariousness of living
And its inevitable ending
Living extended years.
A young life just ended
And here I am contemplating
A longer life denied to many.
I like how life
Gives you unpredictable chapters
And new twists in a life
Not knowing how it will end.
I don’t like to mourn
When people die young.
Death could be the peace of mind
They have been looking for
And the perfect ending
For a life of struggle
Back in their restless minds.
When they die young
You appreciate that you lived
A bit longer.
With death and suffering come
The legacy of wisdom
Almost always denied
To the young
And apportioned to those
Who reach the autumn
And winter of their lives.
At 73
I like the peace
That comes with
The prospects of dying.
But when you die young
You pause
And think of the possibilities
Of more fruitful life ahead of them.
Can you grieve when
You see young people
Die a swift and early death?
I can imagine
What was in his mind
As he breathed his last.
When bullets
Tore through
His young body
He did not die in vain.
He died for a cause
Nobody in these trying times
Would care to espouse.
Could those fatal bullets
Be stark reminders
That a pure kind of heroism
Look deep and noble
On the young?
Then and now
You learn to appreciate
The long and short
Of a borrowed life.
I can accept it
That the young die
With the purest brand
Of heroism.
5. HIGIT PA SA SIBILISASYON
Ni Richard R. Gappi
Minsang may nagwika:
may nawawasak na sibilisasyon
tuwing may nasusunog
na bahay-aklatan.
Paano kung buong
eskuwelahan ang tinutupok
ng lagim at takot?
Paano kung pinapaslang
ang mga guro?
Paano kung buong tribo
ang sinisilaban upang
mabura sa mapa ng lupa
na kakambal ng kanilang hininga?
Higit pa sa sibilisasyon.
Maliban sa pagbangon,
usok mula sa guho na
naghuhugis taas-kamao.
Nagwiwika:
“Nu sa pipa makaugod,
manugod kan dida tu.”* #
*Katumbas ng “If the land could speak, it would speak for us.”
— 8:26AM, Friday, Sept. 11, 2015
Angono Tres-Siete (3/7) Poetry Society
Angono, Rizal, Pilipinas
6. TATLONG TANAGA
Ni Ron Magbuhos Papag
Para sa nakalimot
O katwirang baluktot
At sa yama’y nag-imbot
Ika’y sayang at salot
Ang tangan mo ay sulo
Mapagpalayang turo
Para sa katutubo
Buong lupang ninuno.
Sarili’y inialay
Dunong, husay at buhay
Sa layuning dalisay
Pagkakapantay-pantay.
7. TEACH US, CHAD
By Luchie Maranan
I read of you,
Of how you deconstructed teaching
Within four walls,
And learned the language
And lore of the Lumad.
Of how your lesson plans
Were designed in sync with
The nurture of the beloved
Fields and ranges of the natives
Who taught you that it is just
To cherish and defend
The roots and springs of
The indigenous identity and survival.
I read of you, Chad.
Of how fierce your spirit can be
That it cannot be crushed
By these doomed, dark forces
Always hungry to quell the hapless.
Teach us, inspire us, Chad,
To crush this heartless, beastly
Enemy called the State.
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