Biringan – A Myth Reimagined

Read The Reflector x  MRU Write Club in the list of writer portfolios or the print issue |

Marcus Madelo, Guest Writer | 

(note: yr is a purposeful choice)

I invite you to stare,
with yr scleras ever – so still,
a stuttering hesitation to yr step
& yr chest utterly satiated with still air.

Witness an omniscient presence
of skyscraper shadowing stature,
a chimerical multi – level metropolis
manifesting out the polluting palms
of human flesh. An emerald green
tinted still – life titan
who demands yr offerings & tithes
with worship & art galleries.

I encourage you to cast yr gaze
onto the garuda’s flowering ribcage;
the fabled Biringan
sprouting out the hollow exoskeleton
of a featherless demi – god.
High – rise homes holstered onto its shoulders,
empty houseless shelters tethered to its thighs,
shinto gates & tilted towers attached to its wings.

Imagine yourself sprinting down Apolaki’s scalp,
pursuing the spears of sunshine
scattering off his coruscating crown.
I implore you to dedicate yr life to this celestial being,
who provides free public transport in his spinal fluid,
and colosseum-sized conversation lounges within his lungs.
Who’s twin tails stem from a suspension bridge
symmetrically shattered into two, cascading clear waterfalls,
rapids bellowing out sawed – open sewage pipes
& scraps of spaniard sailboats resting in watery graves
beneath his typhoon summoning talons.

Perceive this prophecy, this virtuous vision
of jasmine petals & banana leaves
burgeoning off the bi-sected halves
of the Manananggal, the virgin maiden, the enchantress Mayari
who hosts stilt homes, hospitals & hovering shipyards
upon her hip, exporting to all people of the three realms.

Maria Sinukuan, reclaim yr gleaming throne
that stays on the tip of my tongue. Remind me of yr daily splendor:
why sunrises & sunsets gleam & glisten in watermelon & crimson.
Remind me of yr eternal mercy & how there is always a reserved place
in yr astral pantheon for the Igorot, the Lumad, the Palawano,
the Mangyan, the Aeta & all the people of the Philippines
who forever bare sun-blessed skin.

Apung Sinukuan, please continue to protect our people
& I will produce in my nervous system stockpiles of poetry,
limericks & choruses coursing in my veins, to provide a signal,
to empower our people to proclaim how our past provides
& our future is prepared for our present-day experiences.

I will repeat this poem in my sleep,
revolve my mornings, mid – days & midnights
reciting this mantra, remind myself
of our ever-evolving vernacular
& how to foster the tools of our oppression
into the crux of enduring discussions
for more than just peace.
Our people, forever and ever.

Marcus Madelo is a guest writer and a member of the MRU Write Club 2024-2025.