thesis acknowledgements

To the absence of condom sometime in July 2009, I owe everything in this thesis to you equipped with the rawest self I had.

We were gods. And all this is remembrance, and all this is desire.
But also it is love..
- Jose Garcia Villa, Poem Written Beneath a Blue Lampshade

To JESUS CHRIST, the pioneering poet who possibly wrote my life, thank you for adding the motherhood phase which has become the sole material of this thesis.

To all the mothers who are part of me being a mother, I salute you all.
To the fathers as well, I acknowledge your presence and connection, and that is all.

To my mother and grandmother, please be reminded of the unending apology for the disappointment I contribute to the family, part of which my being a college bitch and an early neophyte to the motherhood life.
To the financial support extended by my uncles and aunties (mother’s side only), without this family I would not be able to escape the poverty line passed on to me by my parents. Thank you for all the material things, the money, the luxury and the tolerable attitude you had given to me.
To my twin sister, I LOVE YOU. I hated you with the image of the UP sablay in comparison with me carrying my son; I appreciate your sensitivity during my post partum madness.

To Jasper Nikki dela Cruz, you are my muse in writing this thesis.
To Roselle and Jeffrey, thank you for the stars when there is nothing left in our skies, for the tambling-moments and rengga-like pastime after the rain.
To Allen, Loloi, Mershi, Marius and Clyde, I will forever keep the love we had, love for words, love for poems.
To Rigil, Van, Lyda, Joy and Krizza, thank you for being diligent in our literary class, I believe that you will all become wonderful mothers someday.
To Yas Ocampo, I am still having a space for the memories we had and for the place we visited where we once found peace and secrets between us.
To Ms. Evelyn Ayson, thank you for the room I stayed for two years and for the assumption if it was the place we used when we had the baby, (I hope you will not read this acknowledgment) but YES Maam, it was the sacred place.
To my live-in partners in Espinos: Yotch, Dy sisters, Marc, Yoyong, and Spartan boy I still crave for our durian, Spartan shot, Panadero washing-moments and Mintal Park tagay nights. I had failed almost all my subjects that semester but I had what they called satisfied intelligent madness.
To Kappa Epsilon Sorority and Fraternity, I discovered myself with you, thank you for spicing up my life.

To Professor Nino, thank you for understanding my poetry when I first took Poetry 1 until I reach this poetry collection.
To Professor Ricky, shame on me having this poetry collection and failing Poetry 2 under you, I wish to pass it, next time around with respect to you and to the musicality of your poems I adore.
To Professor Tim, your quotable quotes in writing will forever live in me.
To Professor Quintero, thank you for your kindness and sweetness, you really deserve to have an Ilonggo husband, someone who has the melody and music when he speaks.
To Sir John and Maam Claire, you are one of my strongest backbone in writing, I am dreaming to have this thesis again with the two of you as part of my panelists.
To my adviser, Professor Jhoanna, thank you for believing not just in my writing but most especially for believing in me. Thank you for accepting me as your advisee despite the fact that you exceeded the number of advisees that time. Thank you for the inspiration to write again and for the courage to expose not just my writing self but my totality as a mother— as an aspiring writer.
To my uncle, El Cid, thank you for helping me give a fair translation to my poetry, thank you for showing me what fathers should really be.




To my husband, I was the luckiest woman the moment I had our son. Forever is waiting ahead of us.
To Lord Josef Alexandroz Angelo Prias, my son, I hope that when you will be able to read this thesis, you will reach the unplumbed depth of motherhood, the one that I entered when I had you.

This is for the unborn poems that needed to be born; that needed to be mothered by me.

BUGHAT

Her vision blackened—

like a mirror under the rain
her ears deafened
like a whispering seraphim

Her eyes blackened—

she is bathing her child in a basin
the water rises
overflowing in the basin
flooding the table, flooding the floor—
her entire universe

She holds her child’s neck
covering the ears with her thumb and index finger
at the back of its soft head
she crumples what is in her hand
she wrings, she squeezes
and slaps it in the basin of water
to the water’s unplumbed depth
not to drift
not to float
not to cry.

I WILL TEACH YOU HOW TO KNOT THE CONDOM WE USED LAST NIGHT

I will teach you how to knot the condom we used last night:
It is as easy as taking off your socks.
Only that it is scented
-it is dotted.

Make a circle of your thumb and index finger.
(its natural to be slimy because you have been into the spot)
Roll the opening half way downwards
pull the tip with timid care
and knot both ends like those of your shoelaces.

Do not spill our youngs.
for I will use them in my poems
after you knot them with silences.

WHEN SHE BECOMES A FATHER

Her armpits wet and
tired while she’s drilling the screw—
sinking in her sweat.
She holds his pliers and fix
their young son’s ragged toy car.

HER ABSENCE IN THE YEARLY SINEWS

She was once a star
in this stage, reading a poem
illuminated
with beauty and light, chasing—
shadows of pregnancy light.

WORLD PASSING HER BY (tanka)

Dawn bridges daylight
rooster crows on our rooftop,
he chokes while snoring—
the cicada’s song fading,
our son’s smile keeps me awake.

BABAYI, WALA PAHAWAY (WOMAN NO REST)

BABAYI, WALA PAHAWAY

Ginkapoy ya katre
kag ang iya tiil nagruluya
dungan sa paglampos kag paghampak
sang akon nga buli
sa ibabaw sang banig.
Nagnguyngoy siya sa amon kabug-at
kag nag-ungol upod sa kada pag-uyog
kag kada ragitnit sang iya nga mga tiil.
Asta nagmarala dulang ang akon tutunlan
sa paglagas sang ginhawa,
sa kabika,
sa kakapoy—
ya akon iya pinalangga nga bana,
manamit dun nga nagdamgu
kag ang iya dulamang nga huragok ang wala liwan nga mabatian
sa tunga sang kaagahon.
Kanami pa man tani maghuruhigda sa iya nga dughan
kung wala lamang naghaluk ang yab-ok sang aga sa akon nga panit
dungan sa aso sang akon batok nga tinig-ang.


TRANSLATION...

WOMAN NO REST

The bed was tired
and its legs weaken
with the slamming of my butt on the bed cover
it cried because of our heaviness
and moaned with every push
and every squeak.
While I was banged on the bed
and out of breath,
my beloved husband was far away with his dreams,
I only heard his snore in this muted dawn.
I wanted to lie in his chest,
but the morning dust kissed my skin
with the smoke of my overcooked rice.