A story written by Kurl Adrianne A. Aringo | Uploaded by Bulalacao Film Productions (AB-Literature 3B) “Behind the Closed Windows” She would hear the thing every now and then, happening behind the closed windows of […]
A Friend or a Foe
One day while he was playing and talking with the neighboring little old man in the hill, a sudden noise interrupted their conversation. The old man isn’t a conversationalist unless you pay him respect then he won’t mind. The old man seeing the brightness in the boy’s smile, dismissed him and told him to check the noise on the bushes.
Bakunawa’s mystical tale: A Reinterpretation of the Bicol goddess
By Erika Joy Baliguat | Manawari Digital Production AB LITERATURE 3B In Bicolano myths, the Bakunawa was a goddess punished for her arrogance and greed for coveting the moon or moons, trying to swallow them […]
Juan’s Prayer: A Tale of Arrogance, Humility, and the Divine
Written by Alimpatakan Productions In the fishing village of Old Jamorawon, situated near the river, lived a man named Juan. Though not a babaylan nor a manggagamot, Juan was a very religious man. Every single […]
You Demon
If you can hear the silent space between,
These burning words that I have now recalled,
Would you allow our bleeding minds to deem
This freezing guilt a needless fire to hold?
2,12 Coded love
A Sonnet of Production Unit 2 In love we cannot find any reason If we could find one, it’s unlikely love I once loved someone for many seasons One reason all affection was remove. I […]
The Girl in the Shade
There was once a girl who had many names. She lived in a very old place called a village. Naturally, she would be affronted if someone suggested that she was as old. Truth be told, […]
Rookie and the Old Man
I stopped trying to make connections or friendships with any of them. Any of them, except for that old man across the street. I haven’t seen him yet for probably a few days now since my first arrival in this neighborhood. I sometimes would see his truck coming out of the path, but the window pane is so dark, that it’s hard to make out what he looks like. I had this impression that he’s probably an old grumpy man, judging by how far his house probably is from the road.
THE POETIC PERSONA
I have always struggled with creating poetry and I have connected it to my inability to recognize and accept my own feelings and emotions; it is something that I usually either run away from or […]
DEAD LEAVES
It was probably ten in the evening. My body was telling me that it was about this time of the day. But the sun was just starting to tint my skin with a subtle orange […]