A story starting with Me

ALMIGHTY conference having a good time.. praise God

under my blue blanket (circa 2008)

Under the blue blanket

the night came pass me,

as the day came running

towards me. But

my blue blanket stays put

my body at ease with

the warmth and coolness

it brings.

Under the vastness of my

blanket lies lust and death.

Desire spread all over,

abortion’s everywhere.

My tensions are released here

as well as my heat.

Under my blue blanket it happens.

Though cozy and cool

it covers me from my scars and wounds.

Scars of my yesterdays and

wounds of today.

Wounds of gluttony and greed,

seems not healing.

Lust and vulgarity is of my everyday,

it’s the most prominent thing

under my blue blanket.

Ooooohs and aaahhhhhs are

echoing and resonating.

Under blue blanket you will see

scars of war and hatred.

Remnants of dried tears and blood

that money brought and taken.

Under my blue blanket,

I cried. It flows down my cheeks,

like river flowing under

the vast blue blanket.

The tears brought coolness and

warmth for some. For one thing is not

lost under the blue blanket.

A thing called hope.

Hope that the scars and wounds

will fade away someday. 

Last Minute

from the endless

race of the moment

and the adversity of the

world You came

down to redeem the

sinner who is me

I looked and cannot

find, I questioned man

and no one heed

no answer not

even whisper

all fallen into deaf

ears, crestfallen

lost and confused

about to claim my

own life

but Your fire

consumed me

and I was dead

born again

renewed and refined

I saw the field

and I found, the

soil is dry

and the toiling is

wide, no spades

no harrows just

a promise

of a harvest so

bountiful.

tumblrbot asked: WHAT IS YOUR EARLIEST HUMAN MEMORY?

my first human memory is when I use to wake up early in the morning to ask for pandesal. I would go like “pot-pot, pot-pot” pertaining to the sound made by the horn of the vendor.. 

Hands of Mouth

Let not the definition

Define the wave of words

That you wish to unleash

Let not the hues

Color the story that

You wish to tell but

Let the world become your

Playground and your universe

Be your kitchen, as literature

Revolve around your heart, become

The hand of your mouth

And become the mouth of your

Hand, let your hands shout

Every pain and every joy as

It cascades into the innermost

Of your being, let your mouth

Devour the heavens of imagery

Chew the crispiness of each

Moment, swallow the memories

And let the words become the

Author as it lives on its own

Shouting and devouring. 

Pagbangon

Darating ang panahon na muling

Tatanggi ang mga paniniwala

Sa nalalaman na ang dating

Tangan – tangan ay di na sapat

Upang ibsan ang gabi

Gabing tumatalima sa bawat

Himamaymay ng kalamnan at gugutom

Sa sikmurang kahapom ay busog

Ng mga turong kinapos sa pagunawa

Hindi maabot ng simpat ng iyong gunita

Ang hangganan ng pagkatuto

Ni hindi kayang pangubabawan ng iyong

Malakas na boses ang dumadagundong

Na sigaw ng pagbabago

Isa, dalawa, tatlo mang siglo ay kapos

Upang maisalita ang silakbo ng tumatakbong

Katotohanan na mangmang ka pa, bubot

Sa mata ng Lumikha. Lumalagunos ang

Kapangyarihan ng panahon, bawat tipa

Ng relo ay naiiwan bilang kasaysayan

Ang baguhan ay magiging bihasa,

Ang guro ay tatanda, mabubulok ang letra

Ng nailimbag na salita. Ngunit hindi papanaw

Ang pagbangon ng diwa sa kanyang

Pagkadarapa.

Farce

The end of the world is

 A  slow moving farce

Of the universe. Mother Gaia

Crying, booboo aching

Blood gushing from knees

Bending, shielding from cold

And heat transpiring,

The whole world laughing,

The joke deceiving.

The comedian singing.

The end of the world is

A slow moving farce.

Of maniac smiles covering

Tears of gold and oil

The perversion of the earth

Lust crumbling each mountain

Of cakes and sweets.

It is a farce and the

Actor is you.