Maganda Pa Ang Daigdig, by Lazaro Francisco

Natatalisod ng tao kung minsan sa landas ng buhay ang isa o dalawa o ilan mang pangyayaring nauukit nang malalim sa gunita at di nalilimot. Maaaring yaon ay isang pangyayaring naging sanhi ng malaking poot o galak o lungkot o habag o lagim o sindak, nguni’t magkaiba-iba man sakali ay gayon ding may iisang matingkad na kintal sa alaala na di napapawi. Sa linakad-lakad ng mga araw, ang alaala ng mga nangyari ay maaaring mahimbing at lumabo sa gunita, subali’t ang alaalang iyan ay naroroon ding hindi nagbabago at di nawawala: napupukaw, huwag na di mapingki; nagigising at nananariwa, huwag na di masalang-tila isang aninong lumapad-kumitid, humaba-humiksi, tumingkad-lumabo ay nakakawil ding di hurnihiwalay at bubuntut-buntot sa pinagmumulan.

My Brother’s Peculiar Chicken, by Alejandro R. Roces

I did not think that the chief of the village was the man who could solve our problem, for the chief was the barrio philosopher. By this I mean that he was a man who explained his strange views with ever strange reasons…
The chief, however, had one merit. He was the oldest man in the barrio, and while this did not make him an authority on chickens, still anything said always carries more weight if it is said by a man with grey hairs. So when Kiko suggested consulting the chief, I voiced no objection. He untied the chicken and we both took it to the chief.
“Is this chicken a male of a female?” Kiko asked.
“That is a question that should concern only another chicken,” the chief replied.

The Summer Solstice, by Nick Joaquin

The crowd parted, and up the street came the prancing, screaming, writhing women, their eyes wild, black shawls flying around their shoulders, and their long hair streaming and covered with leaves and flowers. But the Tadtarin, a small old woman with white hair, walked with calm dignity in the midst of the female tumult, a wand in one hand, a bunch of seedlings in the other. Behind her, a group of girls bore aloft a little black image of the Baptist— a crude, primitive, grotesque image, its big-eyed head too big for its puny naked torso, bobbing and swaying above the hysterical female horde and looking at once so comical and so pathetic that Don Paeng watching his wife n the sidewalk, was outraged. The image seemed to be crying for help, to be struggling to escape— a St. John indeed in the hands of the Herodiads; a doomed captive these witches were subjecting first to their derision; a gross and brutal caricature of his sex.

The Bread of Salt, by NVM Gonzalez

“Have you eaten?”
I turned around. It was Aida. My bow tie seemed to tighten around my collar. I mumbled something, I did not know what.
“If you wait a little while till they’ve gone, I’ll wrap up a big package for you,” she added.
I brought a handkerchief to my mouth. I might have honored her solicitude adequately and even relieved myself of any embarrassment; I could not quite believe that she had seen me, and yet I was sure that she knew what I had done, and I felt all ardor for her gone from me entirely.

Mga epiko at kuwentong bayan

Bago pa ang panahon ng mga Español, mayroon nang mayamang lawas ng panitikan sa Pilipinas. Nang mga panahong iyon, karaniwang binibigkas ang panitikan o ipinapasang salimbibig sa halip na nakasulat. Ang prekolonyal na panitikan ay isang gawaing pangkomunidad, isang pagtitipon-tipon ng pamayanan, at isang pinagsasaluhang ritwal. Ang mga impormasyong ito ay mula sa Komisyon sa continue reading : Mga epiko at kuwentong bayan

Bonsai, by Edith Tiempo

All that I love
I fold over once
And once again
And keep in a box
Or a slit in a hollow post
Or in my shoe.