Yldara - A Glimpse at Poetry & Life
Archive for October, 2009
                    
Treats At Davao Times Beach
Friday, October 23rd, 2009
Those oysters to be had fresh and sweet
just clinging to some rocks; fishermen
pulling in their load before sunrise –
bygone treats. Who is footing the bill?
Yldara / Maria Stanphill 0611070918
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Above is another example of a quatrain considered good enough by my editor/mentor for publication. The writers in our group were tasked with writing poetry in any form that depicts the man made changes in nature and our surroundings.
Since I happen to have been born and also grew up in Davao City, I decided to make it my own “mini” challenge. I love the beaches of Davao and nearby Samal Islands, but Davao Times Beach holds a special place in my heart. Many of my happy, childhood memories happened thereabouts.
I remember the many times my siblings, cousins and neighbors sneaked out to go to that particular beach. There were not a lot of huts for rent then. The structures that were there were mostly what I would call organic in composition.
Davao Times Beach at sunrise was peaceful. It was quiet except for the sound of waves crashing and the occasional splash and giggles we kids would make.
One could make a meal out of the bounty we would find on the beach. There were also these rocks that jaunted so and most had oysters just waiting for anyone to make a treat out of. Back then, you could help the fisherman pull in his net and as a reward you get some of the haul: fish, shrimp and whatnot.
I have not been back for over ten years. Recently, I googled (such an odd term!) Davao Times Beach and got quite a surprise. Instead of endless sandy beachfronts - I was being shown houses, resorts and everything else but the beach that I remember.
What my childhood friends and I experienced was not a dream but sadly now are just memories. Hopefully, Davaoenos will take steps to NOT make Davao Times Beach - a nightmare.
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While Darkness Reigns
Saturday, October 10th, 2009
Scavenging, searching for something
to eat, keep warm. By the ruins,
looking for some form of shelter
to shroud and rest one’s weary flesh.
With every heartbeat, in every
rustle of leaves and footfall heard,
fear rises – an eerie shadow
waiting to pounce, to still what breathes.
Pain. Anger. Silenced companions
draped over these weighted shoulders.
They keep hope alive against odds
chaining feeble humanity.
Cardboard boxes, sheets of metal:
makeshift bed and cover, enough
to while the night away, wishing
liberty rises with the sun.
Yldara/Maria Stanphill 2911070828
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