introduction May Anne T. Jaro The selections gathered by Prof. Isidoro Cruz, a well-published author himself, range from poetry, fiction to nonfiction, and reflect the unique characteristics of the culture in Western Visayas. They showcase the impressive abilities of the region’s skilled writers and the amazing potentials of the younger ones. “Ang Mga Retrato sang Dalaga” by Anthony Capirayan is...
As if we are fish―trying to breathe in a sea of fire,While sinking in the sand of a sunless seafloor,Where pixie dust is salt―and flying’s required. Here we pray, to saints in eggs and elephants in the sky,Like wise men drowning in a liquor’s shore,As if we are fish―trying to breathe in a sea of fire. We are day-old infants, with blisters in the eyes―Born on the gravity’s core,Where pixie dust is...
I’ll drown myself in acid, if my hair won’t shine tomorrow.So I need to buy some Farrah Fawcett, to look like Farrah Fawcett.All I need is to use her hairspray for eternal beauty,And even Aphrodite would kill, just to kneel, in front of me! I’ll tear off my face, if can’t have the sharpest jawline, or the most muscular body.But my problem is solved, because on television, Arnold says that he eats...
An infant sleeps so soundly with his father’s loaded pistolHidden underneath his pillow.His father is a priest who never fails to indulgeIn lavish chocolates paired with imported civet coffeeAnd bottles of Johnnie Walker whiskey with a hint of holy water.He does this during midnightsWhen everyone else is in the depths of sleep.The father’s teeth have golden coatingThat conceals his cavities.And...
The earliest writer I have ever known was my Uncle Andy. My mother, Nanay, was also a writer but I have no memory of seeing her writing even now in my later years. It was always my uncle. The earliest stories I wrote include Uncle Andy who had the habit of writing daily, surrendering himself to the business of an old, smallish typewriter throughout odd hours of the day. If he didn’t work with the...
Gin-ukay, ginkaraykay kag ginbaluskay,Kang luyaw nga manok ni tatay,Ang kahapon nga bungsod kang mga dahonNga ginsilhig, gintipon ni nanay sa kilid-balay.Abi mo ginwas-agan kang bomba, nga nagrinapta karon. Munga nga may pito ka pisu – itum, puti kag abo-abuhon,Ang sara, gasiburo, gapangluya, gaturo ang sip-on.“Kruting! Kruting!” Kurutay ko sa munga, halin sa akun bintana.Sanglit wara may nakita...