19 shades of gray

Trickle down like rain,

The itsy bitsy spider strikes by day.

A constant shot to the brain,

It's time to end your reign.

Your body radiates lust,

A succubus you cannot trust!

Leaving me only the crusts.

With one hand on my heart and the other lodged at my crotch,

I refuse to indulge your touch.

For you are but dust.

I know of you, but I do not know you,

And those late-night booty-calls I recall,

Are as long-distant to me as your definition of love.

And for every shade of gray,

I pray you never see the light of day,

for taking advantage of me since that month of May,

I refuse to let you have your way!

Only when you feel emotion again,

When your tears shed like rain,

Like they did before that month of May.

Only then will I see you as a person.

And be able to open my ears again to that sensual whisper,

And be the person that I loved,

Under the covers we'll make love.

But until then only touch me through a glove,

Face your demons, and flourish once again,

My beautiful flower of May.

Why I write

Writing under candle light is a delightful experience under a warm glow, illuminating breath in the cold rainy night, the only warmth being the barely detectable heat from the flickering flame, with only the finger less woolly gloves providing some comfort and protection against the crippling cold that wages war on my hand as I attempt to write legibly. I write out of love. Writing should never be something that doesn't harvest an inner well-being, a feeling of accomplishment, a sense of achievement. Writing is art; it creates images and explores the inner depths of our imagination. Words and sentences should flow and merge together like cogs on a wheel, interconnecting without hesitation, a thought within a unit of thought, flowing prosaically like poetry in motion.

Today, writing has become passe  This once noble profession has, in times, been ridiculed, especially by the younger generation, most of whom preferring interest of a cyber-nature, with text speak, mixed with other colloquial slang, the preferred choice of communication. Computers have had such a detrimental effect on the writing profession, diverting many a potential great writer from his own literary destination. Writing is also a deeply personal thing, because human intellect is expelled vastly, where as computers do most, if not all, the thinking. You could argue, however, that man’s intelligence brought computers into existence. But this is not a true reflection of humanity, and is based on a small microcosm of the human race. For years to come computers will have a detrimental effect on human brain development, because of the brain- drain effect. If humans depend on computers to think and even carry out chores, then, the only outcome is a human couch potato with a limited supply of brain cells.

Rainbows and Rivers

Paint thy heart with steel

Stop the arrows of despair you feel

Clear thy eyes this veil of tears

Build high the wall against thy fears

Brush away the clouds that mass

Raise the Daffodils o'er the grass

Listen to the ringing of the river

Causing the reed beds to bend and quiver

Tis nature that heals thy pain

Sending rainbows against the rain

Soothing the wrinkles ridding your frown   

Wrapping you up in the Suns warm gown

Be glad to inhale the wind

Ask not your life to rescind

But take thy place on planet Earth

Shout loud your name for all your worth

Poverty

Poverty still exist in world
Poverty kills a nation
Poverty kills a mother
Poverty kills a parent
Poverty kills culture
Poverty kills literature and arts
Poverty kills creativity
Poverty kills family
Poverty kills rights and opportunity
Poverty kills community and city
Poverty kills and sap our vitality
Poverty kills our future
POVERTY KILLS HUMANITY

Buhay at Kamatayan

Kung ikaw ay may pagkakataong magmasid sa mga pagamutan, mababatid mong maraming mga sanggol ang ipinapanganak. At sa araw ring iyon, marami ang nababawian ng buhay. Masdan mo ang kahit na anong puno sa paligid. Sa isang araw, maraming nalalagas na dahon mula sa punong ito, subalit marami ring nagsisimulang umusbong.


Sa mundong ito, nakapanghahari ang isang misteryo sa araw-araw. Naririyan ang pag-usbong at pagkalagas ng dahon; naririyan ang pagbigay at pagbawi ng buhay. Ang tao ay katulad ng isang bagay na biglang sumusulpot at mayamaya'y biglang maglalaho. Ang buhay ng tao'y maikli at puno ng hirap, namumukadkad na parang bulaklak, natutuyong parang damo, naglalahong parang bula, lumilipas na parang anino.


Ang tao ay ginawa ng Diyos upang makapamuhay at mabuhay magpakailanman. At kung tayo'y mamamatay, hindi tayo lilipas sa kawalan. Tayo'y magkakamit ng panibagong buhay. Kung tayo'y namuhay sa masama at namatay nang di nakapagsisisi sa mga ginawang kasalanan, tanging ang nakakapasong impiyerno lang ang ating kalalagyan. Dito natin sasayangin ang ikalawang buhay.


Darating ang Huling Paghuhukom, ang sangkatauhan kasama ang pinagsanib na katawan at kaluluwa ay tatayo sa harapan ng Diyos. Ang katawan at kaluluwa ang siyang makakarating sa langit o di kaya'y sa impiyerno dahil kapwa ginagamit ng tao ang kanyang katawan at kaluluwa sa pagmamahal sa Diyos o sa paggawa ng kasalanan habang nasa mundong ibabaw. Ang tao'y makapamumuhay nang walang hanggan. Titigil sa pagtakbo ang panahon. Ang kahapon at ang bukas ay kapwa mawawala ng tuluyan. Magkakaroon ng walang katapusang kaligayahan o di kaya'y paghihinagpis. Ang pamimili sa dalawa ay nakasalalay sa ating pagpapasya kung paano natin gugugulin ang oras na nalalabi.


Ano ang mapapala ng isang tao, makamtan man niya ang buong mundo, kung ang katumbas nito'y ang pagkakansanla ng kanyang kaluluwa? Ano ba ang buhay na walang hanggan?


Kailangan nga siguro nating mabuhay ng praktikal. Kailangan din nating isipin ang ating pangangailangan dito sa lupa, ngunit kailanman, hindi natin dapat kalimutan ang Diyos na siyang Dakilang Lumikha at Dakilang Manunubos ng sanlibutan. Siya ang sa atin ay nagbigay-buhay, at nararapat lamang na sa kanya natin ito ialay. Ang buhay ay maikli at ang kamatayan ay sadyang inaasahan. Marami tayong kinakailangan sa ating pamumuhay ngunit tanging ang Diyos lamang ang nangingibabaw sa lahat ng ito.

Nirvana

Sit back, relax, enjoy the ride. Take it all in, its a different high.
With you, I can escape. With you, off to a happy place.
The world is in a whirl, I'm on a cloud. Please catch me if I fall.
Take it in deep, now hold it. Keep it in, just for a little bit.
Now let it go. Watch it all flow.
As your worries leave your body, you feel even more calmly.
Something different all together, makes things all the more better.
Pop open your soda, sip in the cola.
One more hit, you're through. You're left with things you never thought you knew.

Ignorance

Ignorance; Your impaired cogitation
and your subsequential postulation
Subjecting me to verbal suppuration.
I was not looking for veneration,
You give a marked impersonation
of a fool. Full marks for profligation.

Burning Cigarettes

It seems frivolous to take care of oneself
and stay healthy,
When your spirit is waning
as the smoke drifts from your lungs
after escaping a fire,
Where you barely got out alive.
But once it’s gone
And you have got away from that
Flaming mess
There is a strange void
that can only be filled
By burning cigarettes.

Happy 62nd National Anniversary ALPHA PHI OMEGA!

I was born as an APO, live as an APO, dies as an APO.

Happy 62nd National Anniversary to our beloved fraternity, ALPHA PHI OMEGA! APOng pinaghirapan, APOng patuloy na mamahalin at APOng patuloy na maglilingkod kanino man. MWAB

Mabuhay tayo mga Anak ng Poging Organisasyon! lol

Limitless

I want to break free of all expectations
Limitations
Estimations
I yearn to be me
jump to the sky
ride with the clouds
into endless blue
I will change the world
Surprise you all
Write a song that’s never been heard
Climb a height that’s never been seen
Take a chance on something
Something, someone
Thats never been given one
Fly with the wind
Melt away
Regret’s echoes never heard again
Say things I’ve never said
Travel to every end of the earth
Swim every river
See every sight
destined for greatness
just watch me take flight

The Dream Realized

Life, that fragile essence
Lay enclosed by pale blue orb
Shielded from rolling tempest
On the Universe’s shore
A cradle of our race
So the futurists claim
One day sending forth
Humanity, as rain
Earth your lovely hills
Forests green and fair
Stand stark in contrast
To darkness’s deep lair
For beyond our home there lurk
Things from troubled dreams
Distant echoes from ancient realms
Chaos, Gods and demons
That is where our fear comes
Fear of the unknown
Until we voyage out and claim
The Cosmos as our own

Painting of the World

Man woke up unenthusiastically. He saw the sky out of the bedroom window, peeling like an oil painting over a fire or wallpaper decrepit and old falling off the rotting walls of a lone house. He knew what today was. Today was the end of the world. There was no designated year or day or hour or god or decision, the world had just grown tired. The world was currently losing it's composure and all illusion that we may all be dead by the time the end comes. Could you imagine the people who might be alive when the world ended? But this was a peaceful end.


Man got dressed in his best suit for the end and walked outside with a backpack on one shoulder. Already the ground had thinned to a sheet that nobody seemed to notice, the trees had peeled like a banana, and buildings looked like the barrel of a jammed gun, after it'd been fired. Man looked up as a large layer of sky, holding a chunk of a floating white marshmallow cloud peeled over itself into a curled roll, revealing the black of nothing behind it. Man was not scared though. Man approached the sky and yelled, "Hello dead sky! It is I, Man. I will be joining you soon and you may trace the skies of wherever we may go, following me. I'll see you then!"


Man walked and walked as the ground surrounding him curled and drove forward, revealing nothing. Man heard the pained cries of the trees screaming, "Mother Earth! Cruel, cruel world! Do not kill us too!"


Man laughed at the futile attempts as he stopped and dug himself a six deep hole. He told the trees, "Do not cry, trees. For you know just as well as myself that this is Earth's decision and Earth's decision it shall be. I am Man and you do not see me fretting peaceful trees."


The trees stayed quiet but occasionally one would cry in agony and the peeling world's air was filled with whimpers of lost hope and deep sadness. Man looked up at nothing, and decided, it was time to lay himself. Man dropped into the hole and waited. Soon the hole started to tremble and the dirt walls about him curled. Man felt his own body peel and he knew exactly how the thin yellow paint in the home of his own had felt when a piece flaked and an edge developed. The edge weighed down the rest of the paint underneath and it would fold neatly into a strip that swirled ever so delicately.


First Man's skin went, and then the muscle, followed by bones and nerves, then his organs. All that was left for last was Man's mind. And the entire time of his short, and seemingly painless death, Man laughed. Man laughed and laughed and laughed. Man laughed so hard, he would've cried, but his eyes had peeled and the tears had peeled with them. Soon Man's mind peeled and the world sunk into a deep pit of nothing. There was no whole or space or shape or mass.


It was nothing and so nothing it wasn't, because nothing, is something.

Just Do It

Sometimes you might want to say no,
eat a little more that just a piece of cake,
shout at the person who hurt you,
stand up for what you think is right,
but are afraid of what others might say,
forget about it all and just do it.
You may want to tell your dad he is wrong,
tell your friend that he is not the one,
just do nothing for a whole day,
leave something and pick something else,
but you are afraid of what others might think,
forget about it all and just do it.
You may want to give an orphan something,
help an old lady cross the road,
but are scared people might judge you,
as the girl who shows off,
and wants to be perfect,
forget about it all and just do it.
You dont have to be right all the time,
or speak according to other peoples scripts,
you can voice your opinion,
and say the wrong thing,
but remember to learn from the mistakes you make,
cause those who hate you will hate you no matter what,
and those who love you will love you no matter what.

I want those eyes

Ask not how it came to be, you are what you are.
Go forth into the oblivion.
Perish in the abundance.
Hide what you know.
But when you can't recognize yourself don't look at me.
I see a flower in your soul.
I wouldn't dare admire it.
Maybe I would paint the picture of an innocent beauty
Destroyed by being conscious of itself,
And look at it, thinking, "Now that is stunning."

2012 The Gift

As twenty eleven is boxed and shelved,
we prepare to unwrap two thousand and twelve.
Already predicting what we might or might not get,
knowing all to well that its never what we expect.
No refunds or exchanges, this offering must be kept
the only choice is simply to graciously accept.
Curiously we conjure up situations and solutions
justifying our presumptions with pacts and resolutions.
Waiting for the hand to strike. It's almost twelve o clock,
So we can take a peek inside this never ending box.
Finally it's time to tear off sticky tape and wrapping.
Reaching into possibilities, entangled and overlapping.
This ever changing gift, valid for one year,
the only rule included, is just hang on and steer.
Hopeful that my journey is packed with adventure and surprise,
And that all my thoughts and emotions can all be realised.
I'll leave you to unwrap your gift, to see what it will bring.
My advice? Be prepared for anything and almost everything.