HARIBOL SURALISTA

HARIBOL SURALISTA
Pag-omawon an Kagurangnan, an pursang minabusol kan sakong pluma. Haribol.

MANIFESTO

Pano maggibong tula?


Ipunan baga an ki sarong blankong papel, sarong espasyo, sarong puting kahaputan. Saro man na mahewas na tanuman kun sain pangiturugan, sakit o kaogmahan an pisog, tataramon an bunga.


Igwang mga beses na garo arog sa mekaniko, importantehon an mga instrumento kan paghigot; may mga beses man na arog sa mga buyong an boses tinandan sana kan banging bulanon. Arin man digdi, mapuon an laban o layaban sa enot na buswak ki tataramon, surugpon man o magsaro. Basta mapuon nanggad. Pwedeng sa enot na lakad mahuros tulos an tula arog kan bulos kan paroy sa sakong luho, o garo ihi kan paradurugon sa mga babaying may koryente an buli.


Masakit man o mahalnas, an tula mahampang sa kinaban na daing gira ki pagbasol. Yaon ini bako ta nabuyo o napiritan, kundi haman na ini, dati pa sa ibang nainot na lugar.
An tula kun siring paghipno kan nagkapiridasong kagayunan sa laog ta. Lambang sinapar pidaso, dakula man o sadit, sa sarong napasang katotoohan. Kaya ngani pigtataram man kun minsan na an pagtula pag-aki.


An pagtula, an pagmukna ki kagayunan, an pagirumdom satuya na pidaso kita ni Kagurangnan na iyo an kagmukna kan gabos na kagayunan. Kita mga sadit na kagurangnan na kayang makamukna ki sadit na kagayunan. Hali sa dai, nagkaigwa. O kaya kun sususugon tang tanos, igwa nang kaigwahan, ugaring ini yaon sa estado na dai pa pig-aabot kan pangaran, dangan sa pagpirit o natural na pagkamukna naaapod ta an lambang pidaso, sagkod sa mahaman an mga tataramon bilang sarong ngaran o apod.


An tula nahaman sa kamawotan tang makagibo ki kagayunan. Hali sa kinaban pigtutuga kan tula an gabos gamit an dila kan sarong aki buda kan rimuranon. An dila kan aki taros sa mga lanob, mantang an sa rimuranon makinurikuton, pigtatao an kagat na nakapatos sa hamis.
Salming. An tula baga saro man na salming kun sain an kinaban pig-oomaw an saiyang sadiri. Mala kaitsura kan kinaban, siya daw an kinaban?


An tula sarong kamawotan kan dai mapangaranan na kinaban na matawan siyang ngaran. An tula an dai nahahaman na ngaran kan kinaban na sinawod bako sa katotoohan kundi sa pagkamuot. An tula an apod ta sa kinaban pero dai midbid kan kinaban an ngaran na ini. Ini an ngaran na tinao ta—an ngaran na nasawod ta sa ngalas, ogma, takot sa hampang kan kagayunan kan kinaban.


An ngaran na dai kayang dutan an pigngangaranan. An tula an kaging kan satong kalag sa hampang kan dai masabutan na kagayunan. An tula an desperasyon ta na madakop, mapugulan sa pagpara, sa girumdom an sarong dai mapangaranan na kagayunan.


An tula an pinangaran ta sa dai mapangaranan na kinaban. An sildang sa tinampo sarong agang anyil an langit, pagbalo tang maisaray sa satong daghan an giromdom kan kagayunan kan kinaban. Ta kulang an tataramon na “magayon” ta buta ini buda mangmang. Ta daing kamugtakan an pangaran na ini. Ta an gayon kan kinaban dai kayang panindugan kan gadan na tataramon na ini.


Kaya ibuhian ta an tula para lapagon an kinaban sa misteryoso kaining kamunduan, buda hagadon na ipahiling kaini an saiyang dakol na kagayunan, biyo sa sarong insidente. Ini baga an tula, an lugar kun sain hinuba kan kinaban an saiyang misteryo buda nagpamaan.
Kaya ta ibuksan an satuyang daghan, an mahigos na mundagan kan tula, nganing maukdan ta lamang kun pano pagaruon an kinaban nganing ituga kaini an maulamon niyang ngaran.

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Karangahan Online

Karangahan Online
Karangahan: Pagranga sa Panurat Bikolnon. Kagibo: Jimple Borlagdan. Pinduton an ritrato para makaduman sa Karangahan

On Borlagdan's Poetry


A Rush of Metaphors, Tremor of Cadences, and Sad Subversions
By Tito Genova Valiente
titovaliente@yahoo.com

The first time I read the poems of Jesus Jaime Borlagdan, Jimple to those who know him, I felt immediately the seething movement of the words. There was a rush of metaphors in his works. I immediately liked the feeling that the rhythm caused in one’s reading for poetry, in my book, should always be read aloud. I was hearing the voice. It was a voice that happened to sound from afar and it was struggling to link up with a present that would not easily appear.

It was heartbreaking to feel the form. I felt the lines constricting. I saw the phrases dangling to tease, breaking the code of straight talk and inverting them to seduce the mind to think beyond the words. Somewhere, the poems were reverting back to direct sentences, weakening the art of poetry with its universe of ellipses and nuances, but then as suddenly as the words lightened up, the poems then dipped back into a silent retreat, into a cave, to lick its own wounds from the confrontation that it dared to initiate.

For this column, I decide to share parts of the longer paper I am writing about this poet.

In Karangahan, the poet begins with: Bulebard, ikang muymuyon na salog/ki gatas buda patenteng nakahungko,/ako ngonian kahurona. Borlagdan translates this into:Boulevard, you forlorn river/ of milk and downcast lights/ speak to me now. Savor the translation, for in Bikol that which is a dialog has become an entreaty.)

The poet is always talking to someone but in An istorya ninda, an osipon ta, he talks about a the fruits of some narrative: Ta sa dara nindang korona kita an hadi/ sa krus, kita su may nakatadok na espada./Naitaram na ninda an saindang istorya./Punan ta na man su satong osipon./This I translate as: For in the crown they bear we are the King/ on the cross, with the embedded sword./ Marvel at this construction, as the poet cuts at the word “hadi” and begins the next line with “krus” and the “espada.” Marvel, too, at how he looks at conversion and faith, a process that made us special but also wounded us with ourselves stuck with the sword.

Finally, the poet says those lines of the true believer: They have already spoken their story, now let us begin with our tale. The poet does not have a translation but will the istorya in this line be “history” and osipon be “myth.” Shall these last four lines in the first stanza be both a subversion of our faith embedded in a foreign culture or a celebration of what we are not, and what we have not become?
Puni na an paghidaw. Puni na an pagluwas/hali sa kwartong pano ki luha, puni na/an paghiling sa luwas kan bintana./Puni na an paghidaw para sa binayaan./Puni na an pagsulit sa daluging tinimakan./Puni na an paghidaw sa mga sinugbang utoban. Terrifying lines as the poet calls us to begin the remembering and also begin the moving out from the room full of tears. In the poet’s mind, the lacrimarum vale or valley of tears had become an intimate area for instigating his own release.

The rhythm is there as in a prayer. But it is no prayer. There is the repetition but it is not a plea. There is the self but it is one that has turned away from itself into something else. That self is one that shall face the recollection of the faith that has been burned.

And yet the poet, resolute when he wants to, loves to sing and hint of fear and anxiety. Even when he is merely observing children playing in the rains, he summons images of terrible beauty. The skies become diklom na pinandon na “may luho” (with hole). From this hole, comes the sarong pisi ki sildang/ tisuhon na buminulos. The poet stays with this metaphor with such intensity that the silken thread coming from the hole justifiably becomes luhang garo hipidon na busay/paluwas sa mata/kan dagom. Dark wit and a penchant for the horrifying are tandem graces in these lines.

This is the poet who can, without self-consciousness, tell us of the …haya/kan mga ayam na namimibi/nakakapabuskad ki barahibo/nakakaulakit ki lungsi. He whispers of “halas na rimuranon, malamti/sa hapiyap kan mga bituon.”
This is a startling universe, where dogs pray (and bay), and where fears bloom and paleness afflicts and infects, and serpents are caressed by the stars.