Ruth Mabanglo | Poems in English



	Land of Desire, Land of Despair (from different diaries) All of the italicized stanzas in this poem are taken from "Minamahal Kong Kababayan (Ang Pahimakas ni Lorna Laraquel, Migrante)" by Lilia Quindoza Santiago, published in the book Mga Hibla ng Pangarap by Kanlugan Center Foundation, Inc., Quezon City, 1994. Desire \| Paper \| Blood \| Fire \| Grief 1 Desire Don’t be sad, my beloved children Even though you cannot be near me Perhaps tomorrow I might get lucky bit by bit the airplane scooted forward slowly at first pulsating with our palpitations it swerved slightly then it quickly accelerated like a kite assisted to fly away by an ally later released so that it swished as it soars some applaud some whistle the others content to watch through the small oval window you cannot even peer through under the eyes rusted roofs dark estuaries indistinct ocean an outstretched land in the back in the past trampled tears pain I wish to forget misfortune like the tail of a kite our dreams dancing in the wind ascending ascending we migrants used to the sidecar bus jeepney and rusted boats noisy and slow feeling strange the airplane seems different you are already stuck you are also stuck to your destination we foreheads full of wrinkles figuring each other out your mind counts your debt your investment inscribed in your brain counting chicks even before finding the rooster that will mate the hen we engraved our names and places of departure on the suitcase, bag, folder even on envelopes that verify our identity and humanity we engraved in our minds the ambitions (hopefully they can be reaped) the oppressions (hopefully they can be forgotten) we pray let the pure joy of childhood return return Gaspar will fetch water from Saudi Lydia will serve a sheik Delia will be a nanny in Singapore Tina a bartender in Hongkong Olivia, they say, will be an entertainer in Japan Juan will be a mechanic in Lebanon those two they say, will teach in Saipan Casey will be employed as a desk clerk in the Marianas while most are tsimay (labelled d.h. as a euphemism) in Iran, Malaysia, Taiwan or even other countries that are affluent let alone the Filipinas who will marry/be mated by any foreigner we need to spread throughout the world so that we can touch the sky to name the land affixed to the soles of shoes a glimmer of light crammed in the life of only a few we will release the rosary in the Middle East we will suit our ears to the tongue of others we will sing new tunes we will direct our eyes to new scenes melting the brown into the white into the yellow into the black into the red until the brown is erased Don’t be sad, my beloved children Even though you cannot be near me Perhaps tomorrow I might get lucky 2 Paper In this land where every movement is foreign, Who will be your confidante? To whom will you complain or plead? Which language will be used In lamenting what you experienced and will experience? I walked blessed by a piece of paper the paper states my name the paper affirms my humanity the paper is the proof of baptism of school of marriage of departure piles of paper until death I thought I had brought everything in the passport my picture is there (that is me) my address is there (that is true) my signature is there (I finished highschool) I am also sure about the visa (it seems I have already mortgaged even my future grandchildren the cost is thousands) I was calm at the departure even though my corpse can be identified but it seems I am not me I proved this it seems possible to be sure who you are but you cannot prove in case there are doubts I walked blessed by a piece of paper I was betrayed by my paper in Frankfurt my passport scrutinized fake I was not me says whoever say the people says the language I cannot understand astray my English astray my reasoning astray even my life I was put in a truck I was put in a dark truck I was put in an experience foreign even to my feelings I carry nothing I cannot explain I cannot even look nor could I ask about the case the sentence first I called all the saints until I ran out of all those I knew until my tongue was worn out of the litany until I became angry my beliefs clenched that is how it was in the country I left it seems that is also how it is in this country where I arrived hunger mixes with fear loneliness weariness and drowsiness but even napping terrifies perhaps I will not awake when my eyes close perhaps consciousness might be erased (even gasping I still cling to life) I cried and cried from fear from sadness from self-pity until I could cry no more in the end I just cursed agency police foreigner government even saints for the fate I encountered my name as if stolen as if smuggled as if sold the truck stopped the chauffer says I can now get out the order enter the building you see thank you I can now release the breaths I withheld there are women there (surprisingly) but it does not matter as long as in addition to mine there are other souls they clamor at the sight of me (as if they see a light after being embraced by the dark for such a long time) I cannot even scream approached by a Filipina Indian Thai Sri Lankan they asked what is your name where are you from I walked blessed by a piece of paper it appears that paper cannot do everything 3 Blood Blood accompanies birth and enlightenment Bleeding we travel through the months and time Traversing oppressive opportunities the first baptism of departure is the blood that flows between my legs foreign country foreign culture everything must be learned (read like the graffiti in restrooms your secrets and letters crimes kept in hidden places opening doors wounds and the wounded) I carry my body around the world clay with average weight clay that preserves past and future and now as dark as the face of Mother when I said goodbye to the island destination this is where we will be de-virginized this is where, they say, we will be molded before they take us to the brothels of Copenhagen Paris Italy Greece Germany Waikiki even in the islands of the Pacific Ocean as dark as death the time but as red as the blood that flows the flame of loneliness I was given a new name I was given a new beauty this is the temple of dreams can it be a fortress for the soul the feet are staked in foreign land the tongue savors the past but curses the blood that spills on the dreams of oppressive opportunities 4 Fire ...There are many things I leave behind: My children who will stare at the future A family riddled by fate what is your name why are you here how long have you been here I am a cook it is hard to explain the color of fire the tongue cannot articulate the pain in my eyes suffice to say that my body smolders salt tears blood saliva come opium I only dreamed to escape because they imposed on my shoulder on the shoulders of my children squandered strength time of many people/years not only chicken sheep cow were roasted even flesh and hope they want to singe forever forever repulsive poverty nightly you melt your genitals dipped in coffee like pandesal nightly I am skinned beard and hair braided emotion escapes the soul’s fire I saved a small amount of stability I was adopted by flickering light how tame the fire is how tame the fire is throughout the night it ends all my hardships what is your name why are you here how long have you been here ...There are many things I leave behind: My children who will stare at the future A family riddled by fate 5 Grief If only I could bring home even just what is left of my bones, If only they can survive, even just a part of my skull, I say to you all, "my beloved compatriots," That there is no, no life of ease. No, there will never be life of ease Without a nurturing native land. again the airplane scooted forward at the airport it darted towards the sky quickly quickly as fast as a wink of an eye that immediately boxed my corpse I crossed the ocean clouds forests lands and intermittent hardships where can I find my wounds how can I touch my dreams children kin friends your names are listed in the sky my desires have written them there nurtured and watered by diligence I reduced the intensity of the blaze so that we can cross poverty it is good to fight fairly more honorable more honorable especially when what you eat oozes from your sweat more honorable more honorable than denying the teachings of God more honorable more honorable which is first in the myth of repentance is it punishment or recompense is the name fake from birth or the land that nurtured it which is more noble to exploit be exploited to be first to follow to be coy or be vulgar to expose it until my body and stability become numb for the small amount of dinar for the small amount of riyal for the small amount of dollars or disregard the hunger until the intestines wither and the skin sticks to the bone don’t be sad, compatriot, unlike me your grief has a name your sadness has an identity your disappointment has a taste I have no casket to dig in the land I left behind I have a tombstone in the newspapers my children will bury me in their memories feelings don’t be sad, compatriot, let my desecrated life fertilize your departures because here in our country there is no life of ease