The artistry and activism in me

THE ARTISTRY AND ACTIVISM IN ME

when painter Marcel Duchamp died

that was the day I was born

when massacre of students in

Tlatelolco, Mexico happened

that was the day I was born

a painter died, a future poet 

was conceived from her mother's womb

protesting students were massacred

a future student and activist

was conceived from her mother's womb

in my blood is the shaper of words in Filipino

who's father is a Batangueno

who's mother is a Karay-a from Antique

who inculcated in me words that is deep

even if I was raised as a Manilenyo

also in my blood were Spartan activists

who fight for equality, justice and truth

Duchamp and the Tlatelolco students

have died the day I was born

their memory and legacy will be

in my blood, brain, heart and bone

I will continue the artist in me

I will continue the activist in me

I don't usually believe

in what they call reincarnation

I just thought that the date of their 

death is the same as my birth

I was born probably to become artist of words,

as a poet, and as an Spartan activist

and that I will continue to be

to serve the people and the working class

to be one in changing the rotten system

to make a heart in a heartless world

- gregoriovbituinjr.

12.01.2024

* written while contemplating in a hospital with my wife who is still recuperating

I'm just a struggling writer

I'M JUST A STRUGGLING WRITER

(a Filipino dalit in English)

I'm just a struggling writer

for urban poor and laborer

also poet in the corner

who is fond of rhyme and meter

sometimes have sweet and bad temper

what I'm writing is what is right

although I'm a Left when I write

what I feel, hear, or what's in sight

some topics are heavy and tight

while others are easy and light

sometimes I look in the mirror

what if I became a juror

writes about tokhang, its horror

and judging with all my valor

that those topics should I abhor

- gregoriovbituinjr.

06.21.2024

* dalit - a native Filipino poem composed of eight syllables per line

Sa pag-iisa - salin ng tula ni Edgar Allan Poe

SA PAG-IISA

ni Edgar Allan Poe

Malayang salin ni Gregorio V. Bituin Jr.

12 pantig bawat taludtod

Noong ako'y bata, ako nga'y hindi pa

Katulad ng iba - hindi ko natanaw

Ang nakita nila - hindi ko madala

Ang mga hilig ko mula pa sa bukal

Mula pinagmulang hindi ko matangay

Yaring kalungkutan - hindi ko ginising

Ang puso sa tuwa sa parehong himig -

Tanang inibig ko'y - inibig mag-isa

Kaya - nang bata pa - sa madaling araw

Ng buhay kong tigib ng sigwa - ginuhit

Nang mula sa lalim ng buti't masama

Ang kahiwagaang bumalot sa akin -

Magmula sa agos, o kaya'y sa balong -

Mula pulang bangin niyong kabundukan - 

Mula sa araw na lumigid sa akin

Sa taglagas niyong tinina ng ginto

Mula sa pagkidlat niyong kalangitan

Nilampasan akong ito'y lumilipad -

Mula sa pagkulog, at maging sa unos -

At sa alapaap na siyang nag-anyo

(Na ilang bahagi ng Langit ay bughaw)

Ng isang diyablo sa aking pananaw -

* isinalin, ika-26 ng Mayo, 2024

* litrato mula sa google

ALONE

BY EDGAR ALLAN POE

From childhood’s hour I have not been

As others were—I have not seen

As others saw—I could not bring

My passions from a common spring—

From the same source I have not taken

My sorrow—I could not awaken

My heart to joy at the same tone—

And all I lov’d—I lov’d alone—

Then—in my childhood—in the dawn

Of a most stormy life—was drawn

From ev’ry depth of good and ill

The mystery which binds me still—

From the torrent, or the fountain—

From the red cliff of the mountain—

From the sun that ’round me roll’d

In its autumn tint of gold—

From the lightning in the sky

As it pass’d me flying by—

From the thunder, and the storm—

And the cloud that took the form

(When the rest of Heaven was blue)

Of a demon in my view—