Lirip
1
lirip
online mini Tinta 2020
Tinta is the official literary folio of the Union of Journalists of the Philippines - UP Batch 2020-2021
All parts of this literary folio are highly encouraged to be reproduced in any written, electronic, recording or photocopying form as long as they are credited to the respective writers and to the Union.
Mga tipong ginamit: Lora Regular - Pamagat at Brand Open Sans - Katawan
tula 06
forth thy stains
08
fright with all its might
10
calcium
18
the words that remain
lung hiya
baga
hippocampus
wildewoman
prosa happy pills
12
under a seattle weather
14
‘till we meet again, mr. space head
16
baga
soul
sputnik
forth thy stains lung hiya
Goddess forbid the stain on her knickers A trace of milk from an unborn womb trickling Down her tiger striped thighs, clashing thunder. Woman, don’t tame them. Let no man lame you any less supernatural For enduring the unholy pains of creation Hostess, forgive the stains on your knickers Brown, white, red, and yellow; Caused you discomfort yet fueled Your rage towards the world that choked Your femininity as a debt for living. Sister won’t forget the stain on her knickers For there is blood beyond those walls Of countless voices from glossed lips Tainted cheeks, curves and curled Her army fires with roses and thorns, Blinds the ill-sighted gender and reintroduces them. Mother, rise a forest with thou bush Nourish the hills that bring forth life; A trace of glass from a fertile womb trickling Down her tiger striped thighs, bless the clashing thunder. Man, don’t tame us.
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DIBUHO ni Lirip tooth 9 wisdom
fright with all its might baga
I see the ruins of collapsed coliseums, of tainted dreams, of pained pictures, of cracked concrete, of dead-end roads, imprinted by the mark of brimstone.
I see the mass of smoke approaching me gradually, a darkness wanting to devour me
I see fire in the distance, engulfing the blue hues with harsh tones of red, the shades of doomsday
and be its unfortunate inhabitant, a dark grey entity awaiting to blind me, suffocate me, to see me suffer under its control.
mixing with the sun’s rays. I see no light-I see monstrous shadows,
voiceless screams
creeping up in every corner,
as I await the fight.
watching my every step, waiting for the perfect strike, DIBUHO ni baga
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hearing my heartbeat spike.
I see how my worst fears pervade in this version of hell I made.
Lirip
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calcium hippocampus
I have never broken a bone despite being accident-prone. I’ve tripped so many times over slightly uneven pavement-on a slippery floor, on an errant pebble, even over my own feet, and on thin air. I’ve even fallen down more than a couple of stairsteps, and while standing on chairs, trying to reach shelves beyond me and once getting out of a jeep during a rainstorm in heels. But still, I have never broken a bone. That’s good, I think at least, my bones are stronger than me. 12
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Although sometimes, I think my bones do not like me. They don’t seem to listen. On those days, my bones do not want to get out of bed, or move or do anything, really. And sometimes, even my flesh and my nerves and my blood would rather listen to my bones. Not to me. I am afraid of the day when my heart decides to follow suit. But at least, I have never broken a bone.
Lirip
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happy pills baga
I measure months with each box of antidepressants I finish. Yet after every 30 pills. I still feel the same: lethargic and
But as change doesn’t happen overnight, there are no miracles that can make the chemicals in my brain do a complete 180.
drained, albeit not moving a muscle. They weren’t my answer to everything. They aren’t supposed to 517 days ago, I thought taking them would instantly make me
be.
happier-- a minuscule 10 milligram tablet wondrously brightening the strong bleak colors I’ve known for so long.
They are not my happy pills, but rather things I gulp down with water to keep me alive.
And so I counted down the weeks. Week 1, the monochromatic colors were coupled with constant spinning. Week 2, less spinning, but everything still a shade darker. Week 3, week 4, week 73, I still hoped for that magic.
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With that, I measure seconds-- each tick a reminder to inhale through my nose and each movement a countdown for my next dose.
Lirip
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under a seattle weather soul Today, I feel as though I am driving under cold Seattle weather, showered by endless rain. I feel like I’m seated in the driver’s seat of a car looking at the windshield blurred by constant precipitation. The wipers offered a clear view but only for a moment, always just for a moment. Outside, people are walking in the streets but they are merely apparitions in my view. All of them were passing in a hurry. From my seat, the sound of the rain seemed like a piece of incessant racket. It started slowly by dropping a few heavy notes in long intervals before erupting to a full-blown strain of uneven beats in staccato. Without warning, my legs slowly felt numb in the gas pedal while my hands were resting in the wheel, unwilling to move. The paralyzing numbness reached my mind and I feel like slowly being blanketed by fog -- as if any second I will be receding into a deep slumber. While lying on my bed this early Monday morning, I felt like driving under a cold Seattle weather. Inside my tiny bedroom apartment, the sunlight pierced brightly through the window. The sound of the alarm clock rang in repeat penetrating the thin walls of my room. By this time, I should have been inside a cramped MRT train if I wanted to spare myself from the litany of my boss for latecomers. But still, I am on my bed, stripped of any will. It’s a sunny Monday morning yet I feel like driving under a cold Seattle weather.
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LITRATO ni lung hiya
‘till we meet again, mr. space head sputnik
The most beautiful boy I know was in love with the universe. I remember how he always gushed about how beautiful the cosmic space is, eyes brimming with passion and voice filled with awe. I would listen to him discuss black holes, celestial dust, anti-matter, and the Milky Way, even though my mind would frequently wander on how he talks with his hands, how the dimples on his left cheek show up when he laughs, how amazing the world is to come up with someone as beautiful as him. He made all the nerdy blabbering seem interesting. He once told me that we could be whichever constellation we wanted to be. We could be the Big Dipper and the Little Dipper, the Ursa Major and Ursa Minor — whatever they call us, wherever they find us, people would look up and think that we belong together. While I listened to him say this, I couldn’t stop thinking about how he was my Polaris, my Northern Star, because he was my fixture in this vast sky, my point of reference. Because he stands out. Because when I get lost, I could just find him and feel on the way home. One night, we were lying on his bed, staring blankly at the unlit glow-in-the-dark star stickers plastered on his ceiling, when he suddenly turned to me and asked: “how lucky are we to be alive in this universe?”
Yesterday, I read on the news about a large breakthrough in astronomy. Scientists discovered the largest void ever in space, which might just be the entry to the multiverse. I admit that now and then, I picture in my mind the universes where he and I end up together in perpetuity. Maybe there’s one universe where he and I both study in UP and we wait for each other at AS to walk home together. An alternate universe where we live in a small, dainty studio apartment and fall asleep next to each other every night. Another one where we own a cat named after his favorite constellation and Harry Potter character, Sirius. Perhaps he and I just landed on this one, where our time together is momentary. If this multiverse theory holds true, then it’s like he did not do anything wrong to me at all. It will somehow soothe my pain and I can finally let him go. I can make myself believe that the reason why he left me for someone else is not that I wasn’t enough or that his love faded. We just found each other in the wrong universe; that’s all.
I couldn’t understand him at first until he explained to me William James’ Multiverse Theory, which posits that physical laws prove that there exists the Multiverse, containing every possible permutation of reality. Back then, I couldn’t care less about the infinite number of universes for I was perfectly content with the one where the two of us were lying on the bed together. Lirip
19
the words that remain wildewoman
there was no note; only 3 seconds of glowing gray light and your sister’s apology because i loved you. and me, in a confusing trail of denial and a non-existent word for the deepest sadness. there was an old palanca; spanning three long sheets of paper remaining unopened for over three years. all i remember from it are words-- many of them about dreams, and how far we’d be getting from here. there were birthday letters; one for every year since we’d first met with apologies for not being a good friend. they stopped coming three years ago, and all i can bear are my apologies for accepting your unsolicited sorry’s. there was my eulogy; a piece i wrote a year ago perhaps the last time i could ever write your name in paper. it’s made me realize that if i couldn’t write in grief, you probably couldn’t have written in your deepest sadness. there was no note; it’s been 3 years and i’m 21 now yet still, i look always and everywhere for your words. but i believe that even in tragedies where we feel we’ve lost the most, some things live forever. 20
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DIBUHO ni singaw
Lirip
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mga taga-ukit
lirip
ng prosa, tula, litrato, dibuho
Tinta 2020 EDITORIAL BOARD
lung hiya
nakakahinga, nakakahinalang, pero hindi nanghihina magsalita
baga
siklo ng paghinga at di pagpahinga
sputnik
distant as the milky way
AGATHA MARIA GREGORIO Editor-in-chief
KRISCEL CARANDANG
soul
that which remains
Associate Editor
CECILIA MARIZ MUNSOD Managing Editor
hippocampus
short-term to long-term memories
wisdom tooth
sana hindi na lumabas
SIMOUN ROBER MONZON Poetry Editor
GABRIEL JOSEPH BARROSO
wildewoman
last, alight
singaw
pagdaka’y mapapawi
Prose Editor
PATRICIA LOUISE POBRE Art Director
JAZRENE JOEANNE MACULADA Chief Photographer
GERALDINE PEARL SANTOS Layout Artist
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Union of Journalists of the Philippines - UP Executive Committee 2020-2021 CECILIA MARIZ MUNSOD
Chairperson
GERALDINE PEARL SANTOS
Vice Chairperson for Internal Affairs
MIRYAM KALYXTA TOLENTINO
Vice Chairperson for External Affairs
MARY MARGARETTE CRISOSTOMO
Vice Chairperson for Finance
PRESENTED BY
GABRIEL JOSEPH BARROSO Vice Chairperson for Education
JOHN IRVING GANDIA
Vice Chairperson for Information and Research
JEANNE PAULINE ALVAREZ Vice Chairperson for Membership
PIA KARLA TUAN
Vice Chairperson for Publicity
Members Abio, Marian Louise Alvarez, Jeanne Pauline Ausa, Lara Jamila Avengoza, John Joshua Barroso, Gabriel Joseph Boiser, Jasmine Abbygail Bunagan, Kathryn Anne Carandang, Kriscel Chi, Ma. Cristina Crisostomo, Mary Margarette Delfin, Rommel Gandia, John Irving Gregorio, Agatha Maria Guiyab, Shaira Mari Ines, Jezreel Maculada, Jazrene Joeanne
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Magno, Leila Marie Manalo, Jonette May Medina, Trizia Monzon, Simoun Rober Munsod, Cecilia Mariz Pintang, Raevien Pobre, Patricia Louise Purisima, Leandro Rafael Raterta, Mark Samaniego, Anthea Sachi Santos, Geraldine Pearl Tolentino, Miryam Kalyxta Tuan, Pia Karla Umpara, Samraine Yabut, Angel Dale Marie
UNION OF JOURNALISTS OF THE PHILIPPINES - UP
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