Al Robles


Tiny - Posted on 02 May 2012

Author: 
Oscar Penaranda

This Carabao has gone home to the village

Come to me, my melancholy baby

Baguio Ifugao winds that blew away

YOUR POETRY breathing words

INTO SMITHEREENS OF CARABAO DUNG

kEARney Street manong

Manilatown Igorot

Ifugao Mountain traveler, Tagatac -seeker

Dancing and sucking between the juices

Somewhere between The fish head AND THE Ox-TAIL

LIES THE ANSWER.

BENEATH THE WInTER SNOW, maybe.

Or wait until the white snow melts in the spring,

about ten in the morning when dogs have deep thoughts.

 

The spirit that he celebrated lived in him throughout.

The spirit of the manong,

Of the giver, the helper, the survivor, the never sell-out, the dreamer, the provider, the visionary, the joie de vivre, the compassionate, the human.

The spirit of the manongs and the manangs, the manangs yes,

Particularly of that time

But eternal and universal at any time, any place…

Like you, my brother, even though now, you,

manilatown carabao have gone home to your village.

PNN RADIO

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