This story was taken from Bulatlat, the Philippines's alternative weekly newsmagazine (www.bulatlat.com, www.bulatlat.net, www.bulatlat.org).
Vol. V, No. 26, August 7-13, 2005

TULA (POETRY)

Negros

By Tomasito T. Talledo
Posted by Bulatlat

I.

All are eaters that feast on open graves
While the bloodsoaked canefields
Painfully murmured the killers names
                                    Gustilo, Cojuanco,Benedicto
                                    Montelibano, Sola, Araneta
Creatures all of malevolence.
Night dogs, mad dogs, hungry dogs,
Dogs that eat babies.

Dusk falls heavily now in Negros
When homes are abandoned as
Terror breathes cold on sacadas' ears.
No child could hide in safety since
All places are filled with tortured ghosts,
Howling ghosts from depths of burial pits
                                    Ilog, Kabangkalan
                                    Langoni, Escalante
Where the bloodsoaked canefields
Warned of bloodthirsty dogs
                                   Gustilo, Cojuanco, Benedicto
                                   Montelibano, Sola, Araneta.

II.

To the rhythm of the fusillade
                                    dance
                                    dance nimbly my son.
Hear our partisan friends celebrating
                                    victory
Our tactical raids drove fascists retreating.

Time when we harvested their rifles in
                                    Isabela, Sipalay, La Carlota.
In the slopes of Kanlaon outflanked them
with the volcano smoke covering us
like the sacadas hiding their warriors
in safety from pursuing enemies.

We keep the perfect ambush there's no escape.
                   Celebrate cheerily my son
fascists may pour bullets over our land
                   victory still.
We rise with the trembling dawn!

III.

Thousands of us soured the sugar lords
Thousands of us unlocked their penitentiaries
Thousands of us drove their thugs away.

They may pour their blackest ire
This cannot stop our surest march.
Already we are the avenging volcano.

They who suck the sacadas' sweat
Cannot eat us all alive
                   Cannot grind us in machines
                   Cannot scrap us like bagasse.
                   Our howls are louder now
                   Our sinews even stronger.
                   One day
we dance sweet la jota in their graves.

Thousands of us will sing the jubilee
Thousands of us will wipe the widows' tears
Thousands of us will heal the wounds of Negros.

Posted by Bulatlat

(Sacadas are seasonal farm workers hired to work from one plantation to another. Living in bunkhouses, their pay is lower than most farm workers.)

Tomasito T. Talledo is a Social Science faculty member of U.P. in the Visayas and also a member of CONTEND-UP.

© 2004 Bulatlat ■  Alipato Publications

Permission is granted to reprint or redistribute this article, provided its author/s and Bulatlat are properly credited and notified.