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Sala

A quaint sepia photograph reckons
Of my deceased old grandparents
In their cordial nuptial palpably soaked
And cloaked in God's veil and covenant
It perishes amongst the ghastly cobwebs
And the dusts in the wailing lifelessness
Of the immodest and muted living room

And in my somnolent and castrated vision
It had painted another mawkish picture,
A concrete memoire of the absence
Of love, of death, and of love in death
So I refocused on the sala instead
With the scraped pastel wallpapers
Toppling on the cold floor parquet
A catastrophic finagling that reveals
The abused skin of my genuine home:
The arms of acquiesced oblivion
Sprawling on the threadbare divan
And watching the midnight sitcoms

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poem by Norman Santos
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Great Heart

Great heart
By: johnny clegg
1987
Travelling always increases the appetite for new music and I found johnny clegg tapes in the south of france and was immediately hooked on them. Im glad there are still younger artists who writ
Play their own songs that I wish I had written. this is one of them.
(chant)
The world is full of strange behavior
Every man has to be his own savior
I know I can make it on my own if I try
But Im searchin for a great heart to stand me by
Underneath the african sky
A great heart to stand me by
Chorus:
Im searching for the spirit of the great heart
To hold and keep me by
Im searching for the spirit of the great heart
Under african sky
Sometimes I feel that you rarely know me (sometimes)
Sometimes theres so much you can show me (sometime)
Theres a highway of stars across the heavens

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song performed by Jimmy Buffett
Added by Lucian Velea
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LI GALOPPINI (The Scroungers)

Jeri, a la Pulinara, un colleggiale
Doppo fatta una predica in todesco,
Setacciò tutt'er popolo in du' sale,
E a la ppiù mejo vorze dà er rifresco.

In quella fece entracce er Cardinale
Co l'amichi der Micco e ppadron Fiesco;
E nell'antra la gente duzzinale
Che viaggia cor caval de san Francesco.

Pe sta sala che qui de li spedati
Comincionno a ppassà li cammorieri
Pieni de sottocoppe de gelati.

Ma che! a la sala delli cavajeri
Un cazzo ciarrivò: ché st'affamati
Se sparinno inzinenta li bicchieri.

English

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poem by Giuseppe Gioacchino Belli
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panamini Choi!

tambag ko lang unta
kon magbuhat ka og sala
panamini una
ang durian

kon mohinog
bisan asa nimo tagoan
ila gyod nga maatikan
kay mangalimyon man!

poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Twin Mountains In Marawi

the twin mountains in Marawi
from a distance as you sit calmly
in the sala of your house
your window overlooking
the misty morning
you shall see how perfect
are the breasts of the
virginal native brown
mountain woman

poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Losing A Wallet

i suspect it was just right there in the sala
of the house of my friend
'twas her birthday and i just cheered her up
with my jokes
and i managed to have a little dance with her
and everybody was happy
until i got inside my car
it was already 11 o'clock in the evening
and then i arrived home
finally to find out when i undressed myself for bed
my wallet is missing

i am getting old and i am careless
on her 50th birthday
i guess we must have felt the same.

poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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50

Years ago you climbed the mango tree
On an alibi to see both of them

They talked in the sala of your house
And went inside your room
After they kissed
You did not wait for reason
Before they
Can undress
You shot him dead
You spared her
Your wife because you loved her

15 years in prison
You were released to find yourself

In this bigger prison
Without love

All that you can find in her

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poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Uncle John

Years ago you climbed the mango tree
On an alibi to see both of them

They talked in the sala of your house
And went inside your room
After they kissed
You did not wait for reason
Before they
Can undress
You shot him dead
You spared her
Your wife because you loved her

15 years in prison
You were released to find yourself

In this bigger prison
Without love

All that you can find in her

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poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Men of Honour!

Fourteen years in forests he lived
For in honesty he believed;
And ‘Rama’ in hard turf thus forayed
His father’s words he had obeyed.

When with might he takes the aim
Puts the greatest archers to shame
His teacher showed a bird on tree
Nothing but its eye, ‘Arjuna’ would see.

Out in the lawns of his school
The sage had his pupils busy,
A tiger attacked, to ‘sala’ he called
And the tiger was stabbed brutally.

A Brahmin scholar of intensity
Faced the corrupt kings atrocity,
Undid his braid and he did swear,
'Chandragupta' rose, 'chanakya' tied his hair.

poem by Seema Aarella
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Gary Granada’s definition of a house

A shanty of cartons as walls
Some tin for roof
Several cuttings of tin
And some worn out rubber tires
To keep the tin roofs
In place

Ten persons reside there
Too crowded
Smell of dead fish
Smell of decayed fish
And dried urine
Rodent and human urine
Hotter than the
Temperatures of
An Arizona desert

Patches of wasted wood
Planks of leftovers
Undefined window frames

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poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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