the year that was

she.

she.

small is she.
fragile.
easily shattered like glass.
she fidgets. scared to utter a word.
scared of touch, of closeness.
she, who was joy, is long far gone.
she, how poor, how sad.
she aches. she cries.

then, she decided to die…

death to her past,
death to her scars, her wounds.
rise…rise… rise... risen is she.
alive is she.
power is she.
brilliance is she.
greatness is she.
love is she.
she…

abundance

abundance is seeing white pigeons fly in v formation.

abundance is sipping ice-blended coffee with a friend.

abundance is hugging and holding hands.

abundance is a shared laughter.

abundance is sitting comfortably at the humanities steps of UPLB while the sun sets.

abundance is a slice of blueberry cheesecake.

abundance is a warm hello.

abundance is hearing a child snore.

abundance is riding a jeepney in traffic-free streets.

abundance is realizing that dreams have no limitations.

abundance is a good quality education.

abundance is working smart not working hard.

abundance is listening to eddie vedder as he performs live and sings "black".

abundance is reading and reading and reading.

abundance is YOU.

row

“As I’ve gotten older, I realize I’m certain of only two things. Days that begin with rowing on a lake are better than days that do not. Second, a man’s character is his fate.”

These are the lines that William Hundert (Kevin Kline) uttered in the movie “The Emperor’s Club”. These very words are on a repeat mode inside my head, just like a broken record. It echoes the language that my heart seeks and understands. For what is life without a time to halt, to pause, to ponder and be reflective of how it is not only to exist but to live. Of how it is not only to work and be lost in a day’s routine but essentially to actualize one’s full potential by becoming the person a man ought to be, that he must be.

Is it not through reflection that one sees, that one listens, that one realizes if he is still in sync with the cosmic promise of greatness and of glorious living? If, he is still aligned with what the universe has called for him to do. Just like a wise sailor, a man navigates attuned not only with himself but with the things around him. He sways with the wind. He dances in rhythm with the ocean. He looks up to the stars for direction. He looks out for land as his destination. If a man is fully aware of what he does, what he says, what he gives then therein lies his power to lead, to heal, to teach, to protect, to serve and even more, he transforms his dreams into reality. He becomes his dreams. The man he is so destined to be.

Ergo, is it not that a man shapes his future? He seals his fate by being conscientious. A man’s character is his ticket to the future. The virtues he holds so dear tells of his place under the sun.

A man lives his life. He reflects. He learns. He gives. He navigates his fate.

archive

i wrote this poem after watching the movie the hours. this poem is 41 months old.

a poem for the dead

hollow.
her eyes were that of virginia's,
empty, devoid of earth,
her impenetrable glance casts coldness and grief,
penetrating the very essence of my being,

nicotine smoke filled the air,
her last resolved was death for her heroine,
which could not be and will never be for she chose otherwise,

she walked towards the river,
as the voices became too loud to bear,

she picked up the rocks,
that would soon be her ticket,
a return to where she came from,

i can see her shoes slowly being lifted by the stream,
as she let herself dangle towards the end,
how her body glides beautifully and madly,

a poem for the dead.