Vanishing Poem by Cheryl L. DaytecYañgot

We are part of the crowd; we bear their names:
John, Frank, Catherine, Leandro, Bernard,
Rick, Bettina, Dinah, Eden, Carmen, Aida
Our first names do not link us to our history,
Not to barely known legends we are forgetting
Not to the bloodline we would rather forswear
Even with long spears, savagery cannot touch us
We are one with the crowd for we are civilized
Without funny accent, we speak its language
We do not exchange words with our ancestors
Their strange tongue is way outside our grasp
Nature shares their jargon; Nature is alien to us

We are no longer savages. We have new eyes
We see gold swimming in our rivers and lakes
We watch as the soul of our past is drowning
And the spirit of avarice rules our moods
We reach for money deep into the earth’s core
Like a speculum lacerating a woman’s soul
Nonstop, we fell trees upon trees upon trees
Our eyes cannot see the anguishing spirits
How do you spot someone you know not?
Beyond our range of vision are the footprints
Of old on the remaining waters and lands
To pavements leading to truth, justice, equity

Our primitive ancestors ate from one plate
Now we seal our pots to bar even kith and kin
There is nothing to give out; there is nothing
Gone are the rice fields, the hunting grounds
Where hunger could not survive; it never could
Paper sealed by the government fenced us out
Of the vast lands that suckled our ancestors,
Cradled their bones, sipped their aged blood
We have gone to the mines, the hospitals,
The sweat shops, the offices with wing chairs
Even to places our forebears never imagined
Slash-and-burn tilling is buried with the past
We are now employees, sometimes slaves
From time to time, we endure hunger pangs

We are no longer savages, we have refined ears
We listen to the thumping noise in the airwaves
And get sucked up by violence and depravity
Our ears ignore the legends of truth and courage,
The words of wisdom echoing from the rippling
Of ancient rivers colored by civilization’s fruits
We are deaf to the cricket choir’s melodies at night
Or the tender voices rustling through the trees,
Or the harrowing cries from dying springs,
Or the caveat of a leaf leisurely falling from a tree,
Of a tiny ant carrying a morsel of rice on its back,
Or sunflower petals undulating in the soft breeze
We do not hear the ululation of hungry neighbors
Their curse is not ours; our blessing is not theirs
For we are no longer savages; not savages, at last.

We are no longer savages; our tastes are refined
We sip red wine, white wine, cabernet, whiskey
Sparkling like reeking urine in crystal glasses
Fabricated after agitating Nature till it slumped
We do not drink tapuy from coconut shell bowls
In the ommong, * we serve lechon** besides pinikpikan***
We shed off the loincloth, we gave up the gibey****
We wear underwear under well-tailored suits,
On our skin we rub lotion to keep it soft, supple
We spray perfume to simulate flower’s fragrance
But we cannot mask the stench of evil in the air
We ditched the pasiking***** for briefcases and bags
We blend well with the crowd; who will say
Our ancestors were head-hunting savages?
With lips painted red, we are bold to tell lies
Eyes shielded by ornate shades, we do not see
Our way in the wide, tapered cleavage between
Despair and injustice, poverty and avarice

We have been uprooted from the vast land
Of our forebears’ births, lives and deaths
For we abandoned barbarism for civilization
We dropped bolos and spears for guns and bombs
We stopped killing in defense of land, honor, life
Now we murder for lust, greed, power, status

Anxious to surface
From the cocoon of cultural bigotry
We are a new people
We are civilized.

We are

Vanishing.


*Ommong is the communal feast of some indigenous peoples in Northern Luzon of the Philippines.
**Lechon is a whole pork roasted over slow fire, which is a delicacy of Filipinos belonging to the majority culture
***Pinikpikan is a chicken recipe. The chicken is slowly beaten to death, then its feathers burnt and removed from the body, before the chicken is chopped into pieces and boiled.
****Gibey is a traditional costume of indigenous women in Northern Philippines.
*****Pasiking is a traditional backpack made of rattan.