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Filipino Poetry

The first poem expresses regret over words that were said or written in haste without meaning. The depths of unspoken words and wonders remain unknown. The second poem is about lingering thoughts of a past love and regret over not expressing one's feelings. The speaker wonders if exploring metaphors earlier may have led to writing love poems instead of pining from afar. The third poem is a dream about buying a special knife for a son, but upon waking the speaker remembers they have no son. This realization of lost dreams and family causes them pain.

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KRISTEL JANE ALBISO
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400 views3 pages

Filipino Poetry

The first poem expresses regret over words that were said or written in haste without meaning. The depths of unspoken words and wonders remain unknown. The second poem is about lingering thoughts of a past love and regret over not expressing one's feelings. The speaker wonders if exploring metaphors earlier may have led to writing love poems instead of pining from afar. The third poem is a dream about buying a special knife for a son, but upon waking the speaker remembers they have no son. This realization of lost dreams and family causes them pain.

Uploaded by

KRISTEL JANE ALBISO
Copyright
© © All Rights Reserved
We take content rights seriously. If you suspect this is your content, claim it here.
Available Formats
Download as DOC, PDF, TXT or read online on Scribd
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WORDS

by Angela Manalang Gloria

I never meant the words I said,


So trouble not your honest head
And never mean the words I write,
But come and kiss me now goodnight.

The words I said break with the thunder


Of billows surging into spray:
Unfathomed depths withhold the wonder
Of all the words I never say.

insights:
I felt so connected to the poem, I read it again and thought that the first stanza wasnt for me but its
really describes me. its very ironic like no matter how many words I utter, I still run out of ways to
Express myself. I speak, somehow it gets forgotten. I write for tge sake of memory and they get
lost. I thought I knew words. Now I doubt if I ever knew them. No one needs to understands, I
dont understand it either.

DEAD STARS
(for Paz Marquez Benitez)
by H.O. Santos

If I still think of her today


Why didn't I tell her long ago?
I could have saved all wondering
For I'd have peace if I did know.

If I had learned of metaphors


Before I wondered 'bout the stars
Would I have written verses then
And worshipped Venus instead of Mars?

If I had found my tongue could rhyme


Would I have shown a face sans mask,
A heart unsure? But woe is me--
I'll never know, I didn't ask.

insights:
it means that he still thinks of their memories of the past where in they realize that that memory
had already been dead or it had already vanished

Dream of Knives
by Alfred Yuson

Last night I dreant of a knife


I had bought for my son. Of rare design,
it went cheaply for umits worth–short dagger
with fancily rounded pommel, and a wooden sheath
which miraculously revealed other, miniature blades.

Oh how pleased he would be upon my return


from this journey, I thought. What rapture
will surely adorn his ten-year princeling’s face
when he draws the gift the first time. What quivering
will most certainly be unleashed.

When I woke, there was no return, no journey,


no gift, and no son beside me. Where do I search
for this knife then, and when do I begin to draw
happiness from reality, and why do I bleed so
from such sharp points of dreams?

insights:

He talks to himself, asking where he should find the knife he dreamt about. It hurts him that the
beautiful knife he intended to give to his son is only fictional. What pains the speaker most is the
truth that he has no son at all. Thus is said because of the line, “why do I bleed so from such
sharp points of dreams.” He cannot get over the fact that he has no son. Also, he grieves that the
fulfilment he felt as a father only existed in his dream. He asks himself again when he would learn
to accept and live with the reality that he has no son.

TIT FOR TAT


by H.O. Santos

I cussed her out for making changes after changes, "Get your goddamn brochure now before you
change your mind again--I'm not making any more revisions." I left the material outside my front
door for her to pick up. I didn't want to see her 'cause I knew she was equally good at cussing me
out. Later, as I was going out I noticed the envelope was gone. In its place were two bottles of
oenophile-grade Chardonnay and a note that said, "Thank you for your help, I really appreciate it.
I love you."

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