Spellbinding Siquijor

What comes into your mind when you hear the name “Siquijor”? If someone is asked this question he would likely answer: charms, magic formulas, voodoo dolls, love potions, sorcery and others. Unusual and paranormal, these things made Siquijor as one of the most popular tourists destinations in our country. Local and foreign tourists flock to the island in order to witness the supernatural events that are happening especially during the Lenten Season.
Isla del fuego. Siquijor is known to many as the Land of Fire. Before at night, when the sky has darkened and the bay waters have subsided, fireflies illuminate the environs. Afar, the island seems to be like a burning bush.
In order to get to the island a traveler can ride a fast craft or a pump boat. I decided to ride the pump boat because it’s cheaper and I will have a closer view of the sea. It is best to travel at dawn to avoid the huge, turbulent waves and to see the sun slowly creeping over the horizon. Peeping at the window in my seat, I paid attention on how our boat bravely sliced every single wave that comes along our way, creating white bubbles all over the area. Flock of birds catching their first meal for the day will surely entertain bored and sleepy travelers along the way. At a distance, I constantly take a glimpse of the silhouette of earth’s protrusion covered partly by clouds.
Finally, the hour and a half journey is over and she’s here. Right in front of me. The pristine emerald-green water, the powdery white sand and the swaying palms clinging to the ocean’s edge welcomed me to Isla del fuego.
Our boat docked at Siquijor the capital of the province of the same name. With the usual Filipino kindness and hospitality, the locals asked me where I’m heading and if I need a ride.
Timid yet amiable. Calm yet touching. Bucolic yet not silent. These were my first impressions of the island. Looking at her from where I’m standing, she is slowly deceiving me. She is opening my eyes to see the wonders that laze behind her. How I wish the city life were this tranquil.
As my eyes roamed around the island, I saw something familiar. A bell tower. It reminded me of the place I came from and indeed this island is one of those greatly influenced by the Spaniards.
Just a few meters away from the pier is where the bell tower is standing and beside it is a church. I decided to visit the church and I found out that it was constructed in the 1783 and the patron saint is St. Francis of Assisi. When I was staring at the walls of the church, I noticed something different, its walls are not grandiosely ornamented. Nevertheless, the church is worth a visit.
To start my day right, I went to Larena -- a 15-minute ride to the northern part of Siquijor by a multicab -- to have breakfast at a friend’s house. After savoring the meal and a bit of freshening up I rented a motorcycle and hired a driver to tour me around the island.
My next stop for the day is the municipality of Maria on the eastern part of the province. The journey to Maria was simply astounding. The sun was up, covered partly by clouds and without harsh heat. It was a clear day with stiff winds blowing; I must have spent all my efforts to capture the picturesque view of Siquijor Island from our vantagepoint. The vista of the mountainside was so enthralling that it held me to awe.
The rolling terrain that stretched toward the horizon was covered with lush floral area that brings to mind the images of an old movie. One of the most visited spots in Maria is the Salagdoong Beach Resort. There a traveler will find himself literally at land’s end where the eternal battle of the land and the sea is constantly being fought. The view of the waves splashing the rock formation at the edge of the island is a priceless vision.
After the scenic view in Salagdoong, I jaunt into the historical municipality of Lazi. There one can find the Lazi Convent that was constructed in 1884. It is the largest and on of the oldest, convent in Asia. The beautiful carvings in the staircase and the century old wood plates on the floor will surely capture the eyes of the travelers. Just in front of the Lazi Convent is the church of St. Isidore Labradore. Unfortunately, the convent is not being maintained and it is slowly dilapidating.
The next stop in trip is the town of San Juan. The town is home to stunning white sand beaches and friendly people. At a small restaurant beside the town’s plaza, I decided to drink coffee and take some snacks. Fortunately, the owner of the place, Aling Nene, is very friendly and very hospitable. She told me that the main attraction of the island is its people. She said that the people in Siquijor are friendly and loving. Aling Nene also added that there is a unique kind of hospitality the “Siquijorians” can offer. Before we ended the conversation she offered us her homemade torta- a local delicacy. Honestly, I enjoyed eating the cake-like dessert she offered.
Just in front of Aling Nene’s eatery, is a picturesque view of the white sand beach and the graceful waves kissing the edge of the sea. Afar, I can see a silhouette of the mountain ranges of Mindanao resting in the ocean and cloaked in the clouds.
With this magnificent vista just in front of me, I can’t stop from contemplating on the beautiful things that I have seen in this island. For me, Isla del fuego is a young lady dressed in a black ball gown. She wearing an ugly mask similar to the face of a wicked woman. She is seated in the corner of the room waiting for someone to offer her a dance and to remove her mask and reveal her true identity.
It is when you take off the mask that you can see the totality of one’s beauty.

(for that man with a skim board
whose saltiness tastes like sin)

In this battlefield
I will bury my dreams.
No one will see me
lay them on the earth.
I have to dig
the ground

alone.

All they will
see are just

ruins.

I will hoist a flag.
Its color is white.
Neither for peace
nor for surrender.
Peace is futile.
Surrender fears

love.

After this war
my heart will

reckon.

Nostalgia will
make it even

happier.

(for that man
we need no Eve)

URGENCY


The queen is not here.
She gave me her
gown,
crown
and throne.

And her slave.
You.

We are in the master's
bedroom.

You, half-naked.
Me, half-woman.

Do the catwalk. Come
closer.

You gaze at my bosom.
It's padded.

The gems in my crown
glisten
like your sculpted torso.

Who told you to unzip
your pants?

It's bursting!

It has life!

Something is coming
out!

I'm not ready for this.

Yes, you are. You
told me.

But I never thought
it will be this...


urgent.

Athena

Land rests in his mother's cradle
like horns laid on the mantle.
The ball of fire shares its embers
to flora and fauna. The river
slithers like a snake in the land
of knowledge and temptation.
She rises from the glistening belly
of the snake. Shamans perceived
her coming. Life's eternal battle
for life rekindles her dreamless
nights. Her hands perform the ritual
of her kin that only memory
will remember. She utters words
of wisdom; piercing the ears of those
who have forsaken her. The sapphire
in her hand holds her orison -- the
deepest and most desperate desire
of her heart. Her enchantment.
Her elegy. Her poem.

Dream Catcher

Why does man dwell on dreams?
Dreams of forbidden rituals

that brought to life the photograph
of illusion. These dreams

only summon the furious creatures
that have nested in the arms

of the one who dreamed. Dreams
only reckon the fury of solitude.

Why does man dwell on dreams
and forget to live? Why wait

until reality flaps her wings and
fly together with the wind?

"A kiss may ruin a human life."
Oscar Wilde

Unrequition
(for j)

Like a crook in the night, you
Entered the room. The curtains
Raised as the windows closed.
I received you with unlocked
Arms, like a warrior's homecoming.

The room was lit by the moon
Above us. Chanting idyllic songs,
I can hear mythical creatures
In the ocean. Tonight suddenly
Metamorphosed to a fete.

The world was still and the clock
Stopped ticking. Our bodies moved
Closer and clasped each other.
You kissed me and your tongue has
Has poison. Vacuous yet venomous.

The mass of your form was above
Me.You gripped both my hands and
Ruled over me. Your lips stroked
My neck and gently down to
The midmost of my bosom.

Your glistening torso jammed
Into my whole being. Covered
In sweat, my body soccumed
To the end of your passion;
The fullest of your savagry

The septuagenarian crone
Will surely raise her eyebrows
At this vista. Her unending
Litany will echo in the
Ears of the genteel people.

As the sun slither over
The horizon, the room begun
To be illuminated. Beside
Me is just a dented pillow
And a crumpled quilt.

just starting

This is my first and only blog. I hope to enjoy posting all the things I want the world to know.