Kangitngit

*** Kangitngit is Bisaya for darkness, but in this complex dialect it takes on various definitions with such vivid applications as to imagery. This poem of mine which is  a silly attempt at literature seeks to showcase the power of the word and the intricacies of the Bisaya language.

Samtang ginasubay nako kining dalan

Dalan nga ngitngit, dalan nga bala-an

Akong ginapangandoy nga magkita na ta

Maskin lang man sa kangitngit atong kalag mag-abot na

Sa kangingit gikawat akong pahiyom

Sa ngalan sa sapi,sa diyot, sa ilimnon

Ug sa mabugnawong kilid ako gipasagdan

Kangitngit, kahadlok, akong nasudlan

Ug ikaw gahulat sa eskina sa may mangga

Para kanako, nga abi nimo muabot pa

Ug karon akong subayon kining dalana

Padulong kanimo, maskin dili man ta magkita

Dawata akong gugma, kasing-kasing og pagkatawo

Sa kangitngit man lang pasaylo-a ko intawon

Samtang akong pagasubayn kining dalana

Hinaot atong kasingksaing mag-abot na.

TRANSLATION:

As I follow this road,

This dark and holy road,

I yearn that we finally meet.

Even in this nothingness our souls would finally meet.

My smile was stolen in the darkness.

In the name of money, of having, of liquor.

And in that cold damp corner I was left to wait.

Death, fear was what I have entered.

And you wait there at the curb, by the mango tree,

For me, whom you thought was still coming.

And now, I follow this path

To you, even though we shall never meet.

Receive my love, my heart, my soul.

Even just in the end, forgive me please.

While I follow this path,

I hope that our hearts finally meet.

DAY DREAMING

Day Dreaming by insane chemist



The sound of a drill bellowing two floors down, the cool morning breeze caressing my barely awake face, the sunlight – sweet sunlight, against her creamy, pale cheeks, gave me a sense of ease – of comfort.
I watched as her hair fell down her perfectly slender back. I sat there in awe of the goddess seated right in front of me – facing the same board as I was, listening to the same math teacher’s voice as I was.
I felt as if we were connected – related by the minute sameness of the things going on in her moment and in mine.
The drill gave a burst of shrieks; it must have broken down. The class went into a flurry of chit chatters and she turned to me and smiled; a smile unsurpassable in beauty. She beckoned me to lean forward. I did so without hesitation. She asked if I had gotten the hang of translating equations. I said I’ve mastered it last night.
“So you did study.” She said with that smile on her face which seemed to melt away every bad thing in sight. “I studied only because you made me.” I said while smiling the brightest smile I could have mustered. She giggled and a pink blush appeared across her nose.
She didn’t say anything after that, nor did I. We just sort of stared at each other. Smiling.
The teacher saw me drawn too far from my seat. He shot me an accusing look. I jerked back to my seat mechanically; as if that wasn’t the first time I’ve been caught doing that.
She looked at me for the last time and she winked. I returned the gesture biting my lower lip. She almost laughed out loud. I drowned myself in her giggles and laughter.
But the laughter became louder and louder and I felt someone poking me.
I almost jumped out of my seat. I woke up and everyone was giggling and pointing at me. “Sleeping again Mr. Credo?” My Math teacher gave me a stern look.
The bell rang – saved by the bell. Everyone left, including her; my goddess, my soul mate. She left as if not even knowing I existed.
A mental note to self: The mind plays the cruelest tricks in Math class.