Poetry Slam: Mga Basang Unan … JMS

Noong iwan mo ako ng walang pasabi,

o pangako ng pagbabalik, umiyak ako buong gabi. 
Umiyak ako nang sobrang tindi; kinailangan kong ibilad sa araw ang unan ko kinabukasan.
Ang sarap pala sa pakiramdam ng patulugin ka ng sarili mong pag-iyak. Naisip ko, hindi pinakuluang dahon ng bayabas, o alak, ang sagot sa ganitong klaseng sakit. 
Luha ang pinakamabisang pang-langgas sa sugat ng puso.
Kaya… inaraw-araw ko ito.

Sinisimulan at tinatapos ko ang mga araw na binabalikan ang mga sugat na iniwan mo.
Iniisa-isa ko ang mga alaala’t hinahanap kung saan sila bumaon dito sa puso ko. Nakakatawa.
Ang akala ko noon, kung dumating man ang araw na ‘to, puro mga alaala ng away at hindi natin pagkakasunduan ang iintindihin ko, kasi ‘yun, mahirap gamutin; na sila, kahit ilang balde na ng luha ang aking pigain mula sa mga mata ko, magdurugo pa rin.
Pero mas nagdurugo ako para sa mga tawa mo. Mas nagdurugo ako sa mga patawa mo. Mas nagdurugo ako sa mga yakap mo, sa kung paanong ang balat ko ay parang nalalapnos kapag dahan-dahan mo akong hinahaplos at ang hininga ko ay nahahapo at kinakapos kapag niyayapos kita.
Nagdurugo ako noong umalis ka, pero mas nagdurugo ako sa unang gabi na pinili mong manatili. Nagdurugo ako noong gabing sabihin mo na ayaw mo na, pero mas nagdurugo ako noong gabing tanungin mo ako kung pwede pa ba? Nagdurugo ako noong gabing tinalikuran mo ako, pero mas nagdurugo ako na noong pagtalikod ko, nandun ka pa.
At nagdurugo ako. At nagdurugo ako. At nadudurog at nadudurog at nagdurugo pa rin ako sa alaala na ikaw pa ang mas naunang nagsabi ng, “Mahal kita.”
Mahal kita. Kung titignan nang maigi ang mga salitang isinulat ng mga sugat na iniwan mo, ‘yang dalawang ‘yan ang mababasa ko: Mahal kita. At sa inaraw-araw ng pagbibilad kong gan’to, nagmamanhid na sila. Mahal kita. At sa dinami-rami ng luha na pinang-langgas ko rito, naglalamig na sila. Mahal kita. At sa hinaba-haba ng panahon na ginugol ko sa gamutan, nagmamanhid na sila. Mahal kita. At sa tinagal-tagal nitong kumikirot sa dibdib ko, medyo nakakasanay na. Mahal kita. At sa tinatagal-tagal ng panahon na ginugol ko sa gamutan, magsasara na sila. Magsasara, at magiging mga pilat na paulit-ulit kong mababasa at ang parati lang sasabihin ay mahal kita.
Mahal, kung magkita man tayong muli at tanungin mo kong muli kung pwede pa ba, ang hihilingin ko lang sa’yo ay mga bagong unan. Dahil ang lahat ng sa akin ay akala mo’y naulanan. Dahil lahat sila ay akin nang naiyakan at nag-iwan ng mga kwento natin. Ayaw ko nang matulog sa mga unang basa at malunod sa pagtulog sa alaala na mahal kita, mahal pala kita, na mahal pa rin pala kita. At sa wakas, hindi na kasing sakit ng dati.
Pero mahal, masakit pa.
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Author: nyxescapades

We are the travel generation. And it’s so easy to be with social media these days. We see pretty, perfectly filtered pictures of girls on the beaches of Bali, soaking up the sun in Santorini, casually relaxing in Costa Rica. We envy them, want to be them. And for a lot of people this is what they think of when they think of wanderlust. They think it’s being jealous of those pretty pictures, and wishing that’s the life they could have. But not me. See, I don’t think that wanderlust is the idea of looking at what someone else is doing and wanting it. I think we’re born with wanderlust. We’re born with the need to explore and have adventures. And when you’re born with wanderlust, with the need for travel and exploration, there is constantly adventure in your hearts and something in your mind that just keeps repeating, “Go.” And when I say I have wanderlust, it means I won’t be satisfied until I go. I want to learn new things, see new things, fill my life with new things until my cup runs over and my mind is blown with all of this new. I want to touch every grain of sand on every beach and swim in every ocean so I can tell you how different the waters are. I want to learn to say hello in every language and sleep under different skylines so I can tell you how different the stars are. I want to the hear the magic that I know is in the air that is never the same in two places. I want to get sunburnt and lost and find my way so that and the end of the day, I can tell you how wonderful being lost really is because it means you get to find your way back. I want to never be committed to one place, one routine. I want to wake up with different sunrises and say goodnight to different moons. I want to find the magic, the mystery, the beauty in every difference. When I say I have wanderlust, it means I just have to know what those differences, what those new things are. It means I’m never content if I’m not being a student of the world and paying attention because I know how much the world has to teach me. I mean that I need to have the answers, and I know that going is the only way to get them. And when I say I have wanderlust, it means I want to share it. So I go. I explore and I jump, I adventure and I get lost. I soak up all this knowledge, all these experiences, all of this magic. I learn and I take notes about all of this beauty and all of these incredible people, places and things. I make sure to drink in as much as I can so when I hear someone say, “What’s that like?” I can answer, “Let me tell you.” I go and I go not only to satiate my wanderlust, but to help to fuel and feed yours too. Because the beauty of wanderlust is that it is never ending. And the beauty of wanderlust is that we need each other to keep it. The beauty of wanderlust, is that it’s for all of us. So when I say that I have wanderlust, it means I’ll never stop going. And I hope you never stop too.

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