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About Me
Disappearance
Even if an angel were to roll away
the heavy stone-like lid that sealed my heart,
he wouldn't find you in it any longer.
M ANOFTRUEG OD
Blog Archive
Terms of Peace
2007 (119)
07/29 - 08/05 (6)
Disappearance
Terms of Peace
All Grey
A Good Day
'Click'
Heap
07/22 - 07/29 (5)
07/15 - 07/22 (2)
07/08 - 07/15 (2)
07/01 - 07/08 (1)
06/24 - 07/01 (3)
06/17 - 06/24 (2)
06/10 - 06/17 (3)
06/03 - 06/10 (5)
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All Grey
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A Good Day
This could have been
a good day, with clouds rising up
to fill the blue sky
and sunshine on my face.
Willows sail with the wind
like children running
here and there. But you
shifted away your eyes,
slipping away
like a shrouded sun
on my hand, their refusal
to meet up with mine
is unexpected rain clouds
in my sky. The sternness
in your lips dumps a rain storm
on my lap, drenching my thoughts
with uneasiness
that I have seen in the past.
Posted by ManofTrueGod at 1:11 PM 0 comments
'Click'
I am not used to excuses
and long-winded stories,
to blood-flow constricted ears
from phone receivers,
to stuttering speech
and intermittent silence.
I ask you now
as if we were eye to eye,
my way of measuring
how much of me remains in you,
margin of error aside,
to figure out if this is
good-bye-Posted by ManofTrueGod at 11:59 PM 0 comments
Heap
The sweat jumped off his face,
the skin of his brow ripped apart:
he didn't see that one coming.
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In the Beginning
is an equation that waited for geniuses
to define, compute, and graph.
Whatever the values of variables
alongside constant coefficient and factors,
mathematicians ended up with numbers
that made it impossible to confirm
the absence of someone
dismissed by Darwin.
If this equation is the story of existence
derived from remains of cosmic waves and red shifts,
of exploding nebulae and black holes,
of spinning rocks and carbon hurtling in space
then Popperian logic requires
there is neither proof nor case
for a beginning that no controlled lab can replicate
neither by Darwin or any other.
If the vastness of the universe is
mirrored in the magnitude of the numbers,
the scale of its improbability,
then I can accept:
Somebody must have been there
before the beginning.
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Anniversary
Today used to be our anniversary.
Fireworks lit up the sky and the street again,
while children make merry noise in celebration
wearing funny hats and blowing horns,
food is set out on the table for the communal meal.
It went on for hours until sleep claim revelers
just like it was the day I gave you a love note uncertain
of your response. In fact, I didn't ask for any.
But you knew it would end up this way.
And so amid the noise and smoke
we affirmed a union whose confession
I naively believed.
Posted by ManofTrueGod at 12:11 AM 0 comments
My Youthful Crowd
Does not stall this journey
nor defers my arrival
to death's inn.
It moves swiftly onward fully-stretched
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Right Burial
When you're dead
and grass has sprouted off your grave
with flash flood rushing
to pile mud over you again,
only the agents of coercionthe one who bored a hole into your head
who tried to make your blood
spill to the right instead of leftwill remember this place,
how they dragged you away
from your routine.
When the earth dries up
and the grass over you withers
then perhaps one stray dog's nose
will help us find your skull with a hole
that the bullet pierced.
Then we will bury you again
in our memory
where no grass grows
nor flood waters rush.
Posted by ManofTrueGod at 11:04 AM 0 comments
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Immersion
You are like the mist
on my skin,
the rainbow stretching
across this hill whose rocks
are made slippery
by the waters.
I love to touch you,
hold you in my palms
but you're like water falling
generously from the heights
holding me immobile
by the sheer weight
of your love's desire.
I don't mind wading through
your pool of deep green waters,
all my senses engaged
drinking this sweet pleasure.
I always wanted to be here
closer to the sky,
to be with the clouds
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Travelling Spheres
When I was a child,
the sky was my mind's playground
where I plotted a map
from horizon to zenith
from right to left
watching objects cross
on clear nights.
I learned early
that things come and go,
though they brightened up nights
the spectacles faded quickly
and if I were slower
I would have to wait
another lifetime
for the chance.
Just like your shining,
a bright evening star
against the receding light,
lifting yourself up the horizon
into my eyes.
Like Venus at its brightest
I have you viewed by my stubborn heart
unwilling to accept the briefness of your stay.
Be the falling star or moon
whatever else you choose to be
just don't travel too far out.
Posted by ManofTrueGod at 4:12 PM 0 comments
Taken Away
Move on',
the inner voice demands,
slaps me
like the ocean breeze
whose weight pushes me back
wanting to alter my direction.
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Empty Space
The sensuality
of the curve flowing
downward,
touching the stiff black arms
on its two sides,
is undiminished
by the checkered grey
and black fabric
hiding the strength
of steel partly exposed
underneath its structure.
It remained still, stowed
under your desk.
No sound
from the rollers pressing
on the carpet
every time you shifted
your weight,
nor a squeak
from the metal support
whenever you turned around
my way.
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But unlike me
it doesn't care for your absence
nor for the silence
of the space
where you once were.
Posted by ManofTrueGod at 10:37 PM 0 comments
Spoiled
Were you a food item you'll be stinking now
after this one year of wait.
Is it just me raised up as a Filipino
that I waited up, hoping the separation
jolted you into missing me while you are
with another?
Maybe it's just my upbringing learned
from my mom who every dinner rises up last
taking care of left-overs for her sons
and for their later midnight meal.
My friends insist even owners do
take out food items from display racks
once their shelf life expire.
So, maybe I should with mine.
And when that happens
this I will do:
I will pull you out of my life
like a spoiled item
that overstayed in my heart.
Panis
Kung ikaw ay food item
matagal ka nang panis
sa one year na pinaghintay ko sa iyo.
Ewan ko ba, is it just me
or Pinoy lang kasi
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Disordered Memory
You stare past me
with a smile,
looking for someone else
but I will never tire giving my reply
for as often as you ask
'who are you?'
Your mind broke up like pieces
of a puzzle,
each neuron link
disconnected from another
all former paths
broken,
their traces washed away.
What was left couldn't hold
memories of me
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The Burning
He told me
to start making preparations.
I listened as if it were
about someone else,
the need to do this
quickly,
to remain detached,
business-like,
keeping eyes clear
while reading the fine print.
As the last ritual,
I burned
everything left of himhis letters,
photographs,
dried roses
inserted between the pages
of an old greeting card,
collected in a box.
At the end,
I didn't even collect
the ashes.
Posted by ManofTrueGod at 1:10 PM 0 comments
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Internal Fracture
I thought denials would not wear me down
like metals straining against load
but their repitition
pressed my endurance to its limit.
It fractured me
in ways invisible to you
spreading like a crack
until we are pulled apart like metals
tired of each other
where the sex hurts like the weight
of a jet engine sheared from the wing
then free falls.
I May Not Be
the kind of guy
who brings expensive flowers
unattended on your desk
but I will lend you my eyes
to look at and make you break out
into a smile.
I may not be the guy
who lets you ride a limousine
with DVD and hi-fi music
but I will lend you my ears
to listen to your laughters or sobs.
Book me anytime of day.
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No Comfort
The softness of the pillows
offers no comfort
even if my body weight presses heavily
across the wide bed
when my mind chooses to stay up
walking about in the labyrinth
of my memory,
trying to locate pieces of you
to form
one recognizable image,
or when it refuses to enter
the open door
of unconsciousness
but chooses to saunter
into gardens of daydreams
sniffing your scent in the wind
everywhere you have been.
Look at me in the eye,
carry a smile on your lips,
let me sleep.
Posted by ManofTrueGod at 9:06 AM 0 comments
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Dense
I learned on the job
that strong memory and practice
together is like a twine
that makes a skill second-nature
like machines that run their jobs
following codes and paths embedded
in electronic circuit boards.
'I don't want that,' you protested.
Unlike machines,
you refuse to burn in memory
a habit embeddable in the brain
from all the things I do
with you:
the reaching out for your hand,
the savoring of your hair's scent
and playing with its strands,
a cat curling around you in bed
before calling it a day.
'We will never, ever,' you add
'be like machines.'
True, memory of machines
are erasable. Afterwards,
everything learned is forgotten.
Is that why you insist on not learning,
so there is nothing to recall?
'But, there's no expertise built,'
I argued.
'It's fine to remain dense,' you counter
'on these things'.
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A Love Letter
You must forgive me
if this letter comes to you
like a stone
thrown on your calm waters,
breaking up your brilliance
like sunlight
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split a thousand-fold
shimmering before me.
I did not desire this disturbance
but nature knows no other way
to bring me to your attention
in a more graceful manner
without the ripples
from my heart.
So be it.
If this letter like a kayak's oar
stirs your waters,
I promise you it is only
a temporary aberration.
I had no further wish
than this, to paddle through
your blue-green pool
and imprint it in my memory.
If you choose to let this note
go to waste, may I request
that you throw it to the wind,
so I may see it like a child's kite
but let loose, to fall
among the crags
sitting emotionless on your waters
to break apart there
or just let it drop on your waters,
drench it until soft and unreadable,
the force of your ripples
breaking it up,
rather than hold it
in your hands,
keeping it there
without ever looking at me
again.
Posted by ManofTrueGod at 9:09 AM 0 comments
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Unregistered
I don't need a watcher to secure
the count of all your thoughts
you cast in your heart for me.
Neither need to read the line
that spelled my name in delible black ink
perhaps thinking
when you change your mind
an eraser can wipe it out
and I am gone from your life.
But, how could you do so
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Waiting
How slow the minute hand had seemed to move,
how pronounced the ticks of a clock this quiet day,
and dark the sky with my beloved's delay,
who by her presence her love can always prove
able to disperse the gathering clouds above
with just her radiant face holding sway,
her eyes like sunlight cast my wayhow can I, despite delays, disapprove?
See, my beloved one comes, quiet and regal,
crowned, yes, draped with ebony hair,
with skin only a morning flower can compare
graced by dew dripping on each petal.
Take my hands, my sweet, beloved dear
Of time I will not care while you are here.
Posted by ManofTrueGod at 11:49 PM 0 comments
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window pane.
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Activities in El Nido
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Pavement
She fell down to a pavement
lit only by the evening's glow
from a shrouded sky
her eyes unable to help,
starved of sleep for nights
her mind went into overdrive,
overlooking the dip in the floor
the way the changes between them
passed her by like a slowly drifting shadow
cast under a pale light.
She lost control,
her head banged on the concrete,
her forehead cut on the right brow,
bleeding in the semi-darkness,
the pain as acute as their fallout.
Unable to lose the habit still
while sitting on the floor,
she would call out his name
but this time in a groan
with tomorrow looking dark,
injured and bleeding.
Posted by ManofTrueGod at 8:50 PM 0 comments
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Low Light
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Landscape
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Panorama
Uncertainties
It's uncertain if you enjoy
things playing out like this
the way my eyes would gleam
faintly like a day star
but clearly perceptible
under the mix light
of day and fluorescent lamps
looking for signs
on your face like a map
on my way perhaps to your eyes,
sometimes black or brown
reflecting the brilliant lamps
or perhaps to your lips
when your cheeks rise
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Faulty Exegesis
Without a map, the next best thing
when evening driving
is to learn fast how to read signs,
and even here
critical thinking is required
less one can get swayed easily
by false and make-shift signs
some self-imposed authority put up
for his convenience
and sets you off track
the cost of which
can distract you like a high beam
from an approaching car
or much worse misread
a sign to mean something else
like that Right-Turn traffic sign
on the asphalt road I browsed,
where the next thing I saw
was a policeman's hand waving
his stern look a fair warning
of an approaching critical discourse
of my supposed error
starting with definitions,
progressing into exegesis,
the etymology of words,
and its consequences.
Posted by ManofTrueGod at 11:46 PM 0 comments
Next Opportunity
A young boy of frail frame,
perhaps 10 years-old,
crawled like a spider
on the jeepney's floor,
and with rag in hand
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A New Creation
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Heat Wave
The news advisory reported
a coming heat wave,
a first for this country of beaches
but Comelec officials bitch
about political banners hanging over our heads
failing to see the relief voters get
from the unintended shade,
the shadier,
the happier politicians get.
I'd suggest this instead:
Comelec should ban the use of loud speakers,
loud music,
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loud rhetorics
and invoke the Clean Air Act.
Allow us the luxury of a good siesta break
everyday of this summer.
This summer heats up everythingthe concrete floor,
walls,
windows,
chairs,
and mattresses
with or without the mistresses
exchanging sweat for sweet deals.
If the economy were really better
the prices of air-conditioned units should meet
the purchase power of the laborer
who after a day's work will need a good respite,
a good long sleep
but how could he in this weather?
If that weren't bad,
he has to endure between eating and sweating,
listening
to propaganda of his approaching salvation
that he no longer believes in anyway
but heats him up, beats up his ear,
takes away his sleep
and the quiet he seeks at the end of day.
I applaud barangay leaders
who tolerate the value of banderitas
in this coming heat wave.
Better still let them keep our streets
quiet in this very humid season.
Should politicians toy with a laborer's sleep
like they do their wages?
Posted by ManofTrueGod at 12:40 PM 0 comments
This Chair
I like this chair
by my window
from where I can see you
as the sun hits your back
creating a halo
around your head,
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Impotence
This is impotence:
To be deprived of powers that bend lines
as easily as steel, unable to rush from one line
to its enjambment in a single leap,
to lose images
that fell like rocks off a cliff
to flash inspiration in the sky's black canvas
as a callback to the fleeing muse.
Deprived of wings, unable to fly
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SATUR DA Y, AP RI L 14 , 2007
Green Grass
I watch the flowers fall
between the small spaces of earth
surrounding your new home
before my tears blur my sight
as I look down,
but the earth's embrace
keep you from us,
on this sunny day
with the grass all green.
Posted by ManofTrueGod at 1:09 PM 0 comments
SATUR DA Y, AP RI L 07 , 2007
Simple Statements
(For Christopher Lantin, claimed by cancer)
It started with your simple disclosure:
'I have a tumor in my lymph nodes.'
I looked at you then,
anticipating,
calculating my words,
their tone,
their weight,
to match yours.
'It has not reached Stage 1.'
I thought I saw something
in your eyes
that reminded me of mornings
after my wife and I
had quarreled-
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Chiaroscuro
As a photographer, it caught my eye
this pathway into the woods:
the trees, shrubs, and grass
in muted colors,
their details subdued by their own shadows
as light streams from above
falling through branches and leaves,
down to these violet flowers
whose petals glow like charcoal embers
from last night's campfire,
their color mimics the pale afternoon sky.
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Haiku
a morning sky
full of red low-lying clouds,
the sun rises.
Posted by ManofTrueGod at 12:59 PM 0 comments
Haiku
on my glass window
a clear reflection appearsa lady smiling.
Posted by ManofTrueGod at 12:58 PM 0 comments
Haiku
red morning sun
so close to the rice fielddew drops shimmer.
Posted by ManofTrueGod at 12:57 PM 0 comments
Haiku
cool spring nighton the temple floor,
scattered pieces of silver.
Posted by ManofTrueGod at 12:56 PM 0 comments
Frothing Mouth
The tears on your cheek
are warm as I am cold,
my anger tearing through
whatever wings you had
to keep yourself afloat.
They fell as quiet on the floor
as you are,
teardrop on teardrop,
the concrete tiles a passive witness
to my show of strength.
And this is how I destroy myselfword by word:
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Counting Money
Here lies the severity of my error:
In fatal mis-prediction.
You would think with all my math skills
counting money would be just plain clerical.
That's why I love fund-raising:
Counting lots of money is like good sex
if you wait long enough to the end.
You think years of bonding
gives you license to predict
a friend's response,
and even make a living out of it.
If I were alive today,
I'd be a bad broker,
get fired, and fall in line
for a meal stub,
instead of dead.
There should have been audits,
controls, even reports asked.
But I wasn't asked any.
If my friend were any wiser,
he should have known
a money-maker that he is.
Instead, my weakness did me in.
I've never been good at placing bets
but I surely thought I knew my friend:
Instead, he let himself die
over 30 pieces of silver worth of bet.
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Missed
You know the feeling:
The basketball first dipped in
as if to secure your winning scoreonly to bounce out of the goal
as the buzzer sounded,
the game ended,
except in your head.
Perhaps you should have come closer
or should not have flipped
that finger,
the scene of premature joylike the ball dipping inplaying over and over
like a migraine.
This morning, for example,
two glances crossed but missed,
two pairs of eyes
in search of each other,
one 'hello' an inch short
of its intended ear,
as two people are pulled apart
by the day's demands,
feels like a buzzer
sounding
it's game over,
but the thought kept bouncing
in your head
like a basketball.
Posted by ManofTrueGod at 11:17 AM 0 comments
New HP TouchScreen PC
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Business resumes with more customers coming to the VDC room at the HP
office.
Posted by ManofTrueGod at 10:43 PM 0 comments
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like love songs do once theyre playedafter you bundle up your hair in a bun
and our hands meet and join
under the water, soap, dishes, sink
when your eyes
-sleepy, black, and roundcast their glance on mine
while your body's green tea scent
is still strongwhen you say good-night,
across a queen-size bed:
you are beautiful
beyond what the light bares.
Posted by ManofTrueGod at 4:48 PM 0 comments
Smile (haiku)
An intersection
where a smile breaks outI pause.
Posted by ManofTrueGod at 12:27 PM 0 comments
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Photo taken by the Sony Ericsson K800i using Portrait, Spot metering on
the face and zoom settings.
Posted by ManofTrueGod at 11:39 PM 0 comments
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Burning Whisky
It wasn't a welcome home parade,
just the cold breeze blowing
a confetti of light snow.
Stepping out of the house past midnight,
shirtless and bare footed,
I expose my raw heart
to falling snow and bitter air.
I give in to temptation
and stand still,
white powder covers my face,
touches my shoulders, arms
but the yellow porch light
struggles to warm my soul,
so unlike you... effortless, efficient.
Pull me up close,
let me wear you tight
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Basement Parking
Our Toyota Liteace Van
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After returning from the US, I availed of the retention plan with a free
phone.
Posted by ManofTrueGod at 8:44 PM 0 comments
Burning Whisky
It isn't a welcome home parade,
just the cold breeze blowing
a confetti of light snow.
Stepping out of the house past midnight,
shirtless and bare footed,
I expose my skin
to falling snow and bitter air.
I give in to temptation
and stand still,
white powder covers my face,
touches my shoulders, arms
but the yellow porch light
struggles to warm me up,
so unlike you... effortless, efficient.
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Pull me up close,
let me wear you tight
like a heavy winter jacket,
and fill your hands
to an overflow
of me
while your hair brushes away the snow,
warming me up deep within
like a shot of burning whisky.
Posted by ManofTrueGod at 9:27 PM 0 comments
Cup of Decaf
It wasn't
a welcome home parade,
just the cold breeze blowing
a confetti of light snow.
I gave in
to temptation,
stepped out of the house
shirtless
and bare footed,
exposed my heart
to the falling snow,
my skin
to the cold wind.
It was past midnight
when I looked up
and stood still:
The cold powder covered
my face, touched
my shoulders,
arms,
and skin
but the outdoor lamp
struggled
to warm my heart
so unlike youeffortless,
efficient.
So, pull me up close,
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Counters
Those are important counters
on the blue screen, flickering
white text set against blue,
whose decreasing numbers raise
my joy, disappearing and reappearing
in set intervals, in between, my heart,
predicting the next set of numbers
of how closer I am to you.
The first counter is interesting
measuring numbers that kept me away
from youfrom a black hole inhabiting
the space between us
a cold, deep tunnel
in a mountain so far away from you
that I could not hear your voice.
The second counter is a metric
that excites my heart, an announcement
of sorts of our pending reunion
so much like the play time counter
in every basketball game
where anxiety levels are kept high
until the final buzzer's blare.
Such counters don't make me weary.
It's my distance from you
that does, the hundreds of hours
of could have beens, made heavy the distance
already stretched.
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A Life in a Day
The parameters sent did not arrive in time.
Who will take care of the function call?
If only the printer were hospitable.
It's the best way to handle mistakes:
cause a panic. Anyone who knows Linux
can confirm but there is no resolution
to this traffic jam.
Stranded for hours, she awaits a message
from her phone, wondering if she
were lost. Or the message. Or the sender.
The father left for Rome while the children
threw their trash to the bin. I went brushing
my shoes.
What's left of the car? Charred bodies smoking
after the last cigarette. Until when
will people allow the violence to continue
against the ozone layer?
In a thermodynamics system, husband
and wife would be two systems burning energy
forever to convert themselves to gas.
The Wikipedia is a free reference on this.
The van indeed needs refueling tomorrow.
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My Room at Woodlands
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This Heaven
This Sunday morning
I was lifted up to heaven
at a speed of 500 miles an hour
piercing the massive gray clouds
to where the sun shines
with clarity at 31,000 feetat this speed,
if these were ordinary strings
or threads they would have snapped,
but they remained tied up to you,
my heart to yours
no matter the twines of yearning
and distance
get stretched farther by the 747.
The entertainment and the wine,
for five dollars,
didn't weaken the threads
weaving in my head about you,
keeping me awake like jet engines.
Up here, with the sun unhindered,
blue skies stretch all over, except
for the captain's announcement
of anticipated turbulence.
So, ten hours in heaven did me good,
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Spilled Pollen
That was how she came
to my attention.
Her image lingered
in my peripheral vision
unobtrusively.
She used to be a seed
nurtured in secrecy
but has grown a stem
breaking out
of my heart.
Amidst my distractions
she blooms,
blushes.
I imagine one day
inspecting details of her petals,
her filaments,
her ovary,
enjoying her scent.
But she wilted away,
the stem
collapsing from my neglect
and where she fell
her pollen spilled all over
my busy heart.
Posted by ManofTrueGod at 10:17 AM 0 comments
Vanishing Point
The jet engines' increasing decibels
fill up the runway while the body of the plane
shakes, the earth expelling it into the air.
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Bruises v2
You must forgive me
for not writing
sooner,
not due to absence of desire
but my thoughts
couldn't flow through
the constricted channels
of my convulsed mind,
their release
every time
aborted.
How do you translate
silence on paper?
I thought of
sending you letters,
filled with blanks
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Erasing Colors
If I had a trowel in hand
in this excavation site,
I would remove
layers of history
from these photographs,
to discover details
I don't want to miss,
to preserve
than dump them
onto the spoilheap
of memory.
Buried family artifacts,
for example,
this photo album
needed care uncovering
from all the dust
over it.
The stain of yellow pigments
show signs of the mud
that buried it
after the flash floods
subsided.
The sun came out today
to dry up the mud
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as it would bricks
of an improvised tomb.
The government staff
keeps tab of the numbers
of the dead,
but the tools for unearthing
and the details they tell,
doesn't complete the picture
nor fill the void
of the spaces
from the album,
where once the
picture of the father,
the mother,
and the children
appeared
but the water
erased the colors
mixing it
with the earth.
Posted by ManofTrueGod at 9:07 AM 0 comments
End Point
With a heavy thumb, a depression
made an impression in my heart.
I wanted to see your eyes
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A Different Truth
It's the only way
that I can see the world
the way he dida reality different
from what the eyes see,
not the colors
as they appear,
not the shade,
nor highlight.
I love to tweak
our common reality
to mold it as I desireso others see only
what I wanted them to,
even in un-normal ways
with perspectives
that may distort
their truth and confine it
within the perimeters
of a rarely seen world,
my world.
Light travels into it
freely yet constrained,
once capturedWhen released, it no longer
recognized itself,
transformed to my specifications.
It has died on this plane
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of existence,
and buried among the layers
of a thin reality
resurrected to the eye
as a new truth, my truth.
Posted by ManofTrueGod at 11:15 PM 0 comments
Lazy Day
The boy came up to me
and pulled out from his pocket
a shiny, plastic-covered Bible,
whose pages fluttered in the breeze
outside my door.
He talked with his hands
about the signs of the times,
of Noah, of Jesus,
and something about the earth
becoming a Paradise.
This young preacher spoke
with conviction in his eyes.
It's better this way, I thought,
for a boy to hold
a Bible in hand than a gun
with fierce, tense eyes
with the nozzle aimed
straight at me and with a bullet
breaking through the wind
in a lazy day like this.
Posted by ManofTrueGod at 10:40 PM 0 comments
Bruises
You must forgive me
for not writing sooner,
not due to absence of desire
but my thoughts couldn't flow
through the constricted channels
of my convulsed mind,
their release every time
aborted.
How do you translate
silence
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on paper?
I thought of sending you
letters,
filled with blanks
from edge
to edge,
silent like signs
of the hands.
Perhaps, one day,
the thoughts
will find the open gate
to walk free,
or even
to meet up with you
on parole.
If you find
such letter to be
of good behavior,
give me my freedom
by your good report.
But my thoughts
are clamped
in its limbs,
their weight increases
the pain.
I really wanted
to write you sooner,
but I rather
that you see the bruises,
yourself,
left by the clamps
holding down the words.
Posted by ManofTrueGod at 11:22 PM 0 comments
Accessibility of Olympus
I was told this mountain
is better than Sinai.
Here, I will meet, not one god
but gods and goddesses
who in their boredom
might teach me poetry.
The climb all these years
to reach the clouds
that crown their heads-
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Spinning
When you disengaged
you left me floating in this darkness,
alone in my world whose stars and nebulas
and their light all seem to race
away from me,
whose brilliance
magnify their distance like pin heads
dropping off a table cloth.
I am sucked
into a black hole of whys,
pulled into its depth
by the vertigo of confusion.
No big heart is close enough
to alter the space,
dent it,
and shift my weight
toward its pull,
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Downpour
You used to visit me in my garden
of thoughts where a fountain used to be
sprinkling ideas all over.
I used to run catching them
with my right hand while my left, held yours
filling the air with our laughters
until we ran into the night, the fireflies
lighting up our way like little fairies
floating brightly in the garden.
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Cold Weather
I whispered, "The cold weather is upon us."
The cold breeze breathed to my face when I opened
the fridge's door. Can chocolates really make one
happy?
But what if they are cold and stiff like a wife?
Can the warmth of my palms melt her
even while mercury drops inside its glass tube?
So, I went back up the stairs into a dark, quiet room.
The thick blanket parried against the cold while you
curled yourself up into a fetal posture. Were you
conserving whatever remained of your love's heat?
Turning off the air-con unit, I slide back into our marriage
looking forward to exchange body heat with you.
There you are with eyes rapidly moving-
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Gantt Charts
We never made plans nor Gantt charts
to forecast our time together
or allocate any slack for our laughters.
But we had milestones, didn't we?
The first smile,
the first glance,
the first time we held hands,
the first time we shared a laugh,
and the first tears over some petty item on a listyou still remember, don't you?
We never computed the cost
and assessed when we should have stopped.
Was it after the problem tickets piled up
with no ready resolutions?
The delays didn't bother us.
Instead, we forgave each other's lapses
and vowed to do better in the next phase.
But it never happened.
Instead, we started counting
the last time we met,
the last time we talked,
the last time we held hands,
the last time we shared a laugh,
the last time you or I cried over something, anythingwe don't remember anymore, do we?
Neither did we close it down properly
nor did we sit down in a conference room
and went through an audit to ensure
this never happens again
to you or to me.
We left each other, never looking back
leaving the janitor to clean up our trashthe love notes,
the Valentine cards,
the printed emails,
the chocolate boxes,
the picture frame.
We don't care anymore, do we?
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or looks for
something,
beyond the window.
As I come up closer
I see eyes
looking at mine.
With a lamp
against the window,
I see a man
held immobile
for hours
who neither care
about the day
nor night,
nor me
nor himself.
The image
stucked
on the glass window
all night
until morning came
to roll away the darkness,
dispersing the image
with a bath of daylight.
I stand alone
in full light.
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forever.
I shall see you again
to open your eyes, and fill it
with all of me.
I shall hear you again
to open your mouth and fill it
with my kisses.
By Jehovah,
this will last forever.
Posted by ManofTrueGod at 3:37 PM 0 comments
In the Blood
After her scent dispersed from this space,
and with her shadow and her voice faded away,
and the euphoria level declining rapidly
it finally happens, again:
This craving for her presence
crawls out from these nerves already restless,
the eagerness to hear her faintest laughter,
the anxiety in my eyes for her cheek bones rising.
The tension in the muscles escalate
to a shaking, the heart pumping blood as hard
as it can. The muscles remember her touch,
feel the press of her fingers in my hand.
Her prolonged absence makes my skin
burst out tears all over, while my hunger
digs her remnants in my stomach
recycling it in my mouth.
Like a drug filling up my head
she finds her way into these eyes dilating its pupils,
coloring this skin red. Her approaching footsteps
is like needle dipping into these veins.
The moment her eyes interlock with mine
my senses fail to cope with the overload
and I end up immobile for a while
sniffing all of her.
Posted by ManofTrueGod at 3:17 PM 0 comments
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as if it were
a document examined
for fidelity.
Visitors
queue up to see
the glass enclosure,
to check how worn out the life
displayed. Perhaps the signs
will be self-explanatory.
Around it,
dissonant voices
mingle with the yellow light
cast on its surface,
where both noise and silence
kiss.
The layers of wisdomthe thin white hair,
the wrinkles in the forehead,
the sealed lipsare like a sequioa tree
and its concentric circles
while it lay fallen, cut in two
just like him
unable to sit, nor rise
until Death gave the coup de grace
while he slept.
The visitors find their way
along the seats
before this enclosurerelatives up front,
close friends next,
then everybody else
clustering around
the coffee, juice,
biscuits, bread, and nutsgood reasons to shut up
until it's time for one more look
to say good-bye
after which things change abruptly
when loneliness wakes up
and the dead disappears
from view
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being lifted up
by your smile,
that I forget
if I were ascending
or descending,
as if I had lost contact
with gravity,
floating lightly,
while anchored
on your gaze.
Don't look away
abruptly,
please
or else I
might sink
back to my shoes.
When the doors
opened,
the songs rushed back in
like breath,
escaping from a cave
like bats,
distracting me,
losing contact
with your smile,
from your eyes.
Posted by ManofTrueGod at 7:18 AM 0 comments
Apokalipsis
The unveiling, a formal moment
everyone in attendance came for,
politely waiting, keeping watch
of an object shrouded in black cloth,
details undefined but the height
and shape, until the moment resembles
a new day's revelation when
dawn lifts up the darkness
veiling the garden, underneath
the newly bloom, red rose
awash with dew.
I came forward to touch her jacket
when she turned around to witness
a different unveiling:
my unexpected presence.
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A Red Rose
A red rose
held in my hand
caught
my tears
on its petals
like dew
shimmering
from the sunlight's
kiss
leaked
by rain clouds
above
the garden
where I
stood.
Posted by ManofTrueGod at 11:07 PM 0 comments
The Sea
I stand close enough
to where the sea
can reach
my feet,
breaking
into white foam,
in a tug-of-war
with the wind,
my shadow too
the waters
disrupt,
burying my toes.
I look at you
from this safe distance,
keeping watch
for your return,
aware of the strength
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of your pull
the power
you have over me,
there
in your eyes
that you coldly
withdrew
while I
wade farther into
the waters
to follow you
deeper into a sea
that I fear.
Now, here you are
swirling around me
confusing
my thoughts,
my bearing,
my balance.
You can bury me
with your tides, and
with your waves
until I
have no more space
to breathe
between
your crests and troughs
that pulsate
like my heart
in these waters,
in this sea.
Posted by ManofTrueGod at 11:05 PM 0 comments
Work Space
This work space of a desklaminated, smooth,
and matte-yellow-
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we share. I wished
I were the glass
she sips from
and that
she would sip from it often
while her hands
envelop the glass,
holding it firmly,
tight,
bringing it close
to her breasts,
as her eyes remain
fully-locked
on mine.
The entre is served
as I glanced
down
her thighs,
both of us
anxious
to be satisfied.
Posted by ManofTrueGod at 10:53 AM 0 comments
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Fireworks haiku
in the evening sky
lit by fireworks,
the moon shines.
Posted by ManofTrueGod at 4:54 PM 0 comments
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Rush of Life
By Joel Josol
Take time to listen
To the chirping of little birds
In the morning,
Watch patiently the dew
Gliding on the blades of leaves,
Hold on a little to the warmth
of a child's embrace ...
For life
Isn't realy about rushing
From one calendar item to another.
It isnt money that can be saved
And later spend.
The birds little feet may stand
On a dilapidated window,
Or the blades of grass grow
Beside a garbage dump,
Or a beautiful child
Falls illChoose to see the beautiful, the good.
SoGive out your smiles generously
Even to strangers,
Hug your friends
And hug them warmly, tight.
Say your I love yous
Often, and while you canFor in the rush of life
Things do change abruptly.
Tender
by Joel Josol
tears
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Wide-Open Eyes
A regret is a self-incriminating tool,
a self-confession under the harsh light
of constant self-interrogations
up all day and night with wide-open eyes;
a self-imposed confinement,
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Breakfast
With half-engaged brain,
I woke up to this day.
The cup of hot coffee
can't explain away
the cold space between you and me.
The warmth from my omellette
did not reach you
to thaw the icy silence
from your lips.
I wished I had remained
in some dreamscape
where stories can be altered
to bring up
better endings.
Instead, I have a pair of shoulders
served cold for breakfast.
Posted by ManofTrueGod at 1:09 AM 0 comments
Time Exposure
Light
disrupts the flow of time,
suspends it
like the water held
in my hands,
like frozen water.
Time
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Treatable Condition
Treatable Condition
- My condition was said to be treatable and its dimension
is so observable- larger and heavier.
- Is it painful? People are prone to ask.
- Not really I'd say but I'm doing what's needful.
I'm not as agile as before.
- You ought to lose that weight. Purge your memories,
friends insist. Not everyone deserve the space.
They only pile up memories that adds up to the weight,
friends say.
- Can I purge them on to CD-ROMs? Or on to USB memory drives?
Is there a safe vault that I can store them up then
retrieve them if ever again?
- Wherever, just purge them, and you'll start to heal,
friends reveal.
- Can I keep my wife and kids safe from purging? Perhaps
I'll defragment my mind's compartments and sort them
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Overtime
As five thirty came along, the task list is still long, while the pile of paper
is still in disarray, the law of entropy working against me. Didn't it say
that order should come from disorder? The decibels of nearby cubicles
have been reduced to a hush, you can actually hear the quiet wind rush to
your ear. I briefly stared across my window to see the day walk away
while
as dusk approaches,
the sun sets
on my neighbor's window.
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inviting me to
study you
to capture, nurture, or cover
before you are reduced to smoke
like the fading darkness
after the sun's first glow,
before all the other bright lights
are reduced to a flat white
in a firmament of blue.
Your warm light on my skin
makes mine more desirable than it is.
I want your light
lingering across the length of my arms,
just beside the shadow
on my neck.
I am your hero,
your prince from a fairy tale book,
out here to protect
your flickering light,
to blow away the cloud
and reveal your glow,
retained its warmth
as I behold every colorblue, yellow, orangefrom your flame.
There is something about your light
that ignites a fire in my eyes
shadow and light
competing
in a small space of a couch.
I don't mind being fused as one
in your light,
and together burn as one nova
until the fuel indicator
turns leftmost.
Let us, then, fade away
into infinite darkness
and allow ourselves to be re-born
as new stars,
breaking forth once more
from a nebula
that kept your warm light dim
and enclosed.
Posted by ManofTrueGod at 4:37 PM 0 comments
SUNDAY, DE CE M BE R 1 0, 2006
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To Me
You're the snow-filled earth that keeps me home,
the sun low by my garden in golden colors.
You're the river falling from the height as I stand in awe,
well-dressed like the rainbow across the fall,
sweet as the white sampaguita inside my car,
with the voice of a child constantly chatting.
You're like a warm kiss for the lonely heart,
elegant like a princess with a royal gait.
You're the soap opera that I can't make myself
walk away from,
the SMS message that I've been waiting for,
the line from a movie that stuck in my head.
You're diligent like machines that just kept humming
and ever watchful as an alarm clock.
You're tireless like my iPod, playing tunes endlessly,
shining like the moon until the next day,
ready for a new hello and a smile.
Posted by ManofTrueGod at 9:56 PM 0 comments
Where is Elohim?
Theres a cosmonaut floating in his faithless space who failed to find you,
looking up instead among the technical luminaries of his sphere for the
computed answer.
Theres a woman in bed who raises not her hands but legs, in ecstasydivine intimacy she claims- while locked in embrace with your lustful
minister.
There's a politician praying publicly in paid TV. At the end, he sent word
out to doubters that you want him to be president. What to do then with
doubters and unbelievers? He showers them from funded coffers so much
charity.
There's a father from afar, wailing. In the bed, lying dead cold is his
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child. He wanted a word or two from you why would you a father
yourself take away anothers child.
There's a book on the shelf, yellow in its pages, showing its age, and dust
filled on its edges. It claims to be your written word. Wouldn't it be better
if it were to speak and lead us to where you are?
Posted by ManofTrueGod at 9:55 PM 0 comments
This Bed
This bed is different without you.
I'm not used to its silence, nor inactivity
Nor to its well-arranged bed sheets
and pillows over it.
My body sinking into it
is not the same as yours
sinking into it too.
I prefer it to be creaking,
as we heighten its sensual sound
in the night,
while the full moon peeks through the curtain,
wondering what we are up to.
I prefer it to be disorderly,
as we play love's games
with the blanket removed,
exposing our skin to the moon,
so that he may envy us,
sending his light to hug your desirable curves.
I prefer it to be filled up with you,
your sound bite in every corner,
in the pillows,
in the bedsheet,
with each space
locking your scent,
your laughter.
I prefer it to be filled up with our conflagration,
our cries mixing with the embers
of your passion heating up mine,
as we ignite a brilliant glow
shaming the moon's pale light.
This bed is different without you.
I am not used to a space draped with loneliness.
The blanket is not as warm as you,
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Pleasurable Incoherence
My Lord, shall I
commence my confession,
the content of which
is consistent
with my inconsistencies,
a monologue
chanted countless times?
Will you listen
to a jackhammers noise of a prayer,
savor the smoke ascending
from a heap of this burning garbage of a self,
despite the evening bath
that cleanse my body
but retained my souls impurities?
Not even an incense smoke
can cover up
the pungent odor of my errors.
My sins, Lord,
is like a recurring fever,
as waves of the sea
that raise themselves up
and crash down
against your holy feet.
O, my Rock,
will your affection be
as stubborn as the waves?
Or as cold
as the chilled air blowing stilly?
I am a set of scrabble pieces
that could have formed
a word.
Instead, my sins
chose to be
a pleasurable incoherence.
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EmanilaPoetry.com
What is it about mommies
that left us as little children
for the rest of our lives
with a longing
imprinted indelibly
somewhere in our hearts
that floats
at the most ungodly hour
when the candle
of our spirit
flickers
nervously?
what is it in their embrace
that warms our soul
when we
are aching
in our spirit,
when a heavy cloud
hovers above us
which shadow
lingered
until a teardrop
is squeezed
from our loneliness?
is it in their hands
or fingers
that passes on to our spirit
when we are enveloped
in their grasp?
or, could it be
in their smiles
or tears
whose images our memories
kept regurgitaing
when we wanted to smile
or cry?
what is it about mommies
that leave us begging
for their kiss,
wet and warm like hot springs
soothing to the bones,
fitting after a long day's work
alone, in some world city
in need
of love's affirmation,
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consolation
be it in writing,
voice?
is it
in their soothing voice
calming the restless storm
in our hearts,
the unsteady wind
of our determination?
or about the time
that mommies has spent
with us
after pulling her away
from what we thought
were inconsequential things?
is it about the times
when we missed the train ride,
where we could have confessed
our love,
but we were late, late
for the rest of our life?
or those harsh words
you wish had not been said
but were thrown out
on the floor, to crash,
and break to pieces
her heart?
what is it, really, about mommies?
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Katabi
Hindi tumakas sa aking diwa
Ang haplos ng makinis mong balat
Naalala kong bigla ang dagat
Na minsa sa aki'y humampas-hampas.
Ang lapit nating dalawa'y nahayag
Sa aking matalas na pang-amoy
Hinigop parang hanging dagat, ang simoy
Habang isip ko'y pilit sa iba maglayag.
Dumampi ang malamig, basa mong buhok.
Sa aking mabilis na pagsulyap
Kita kong ubod ng itim, makintab
Isip ko'y sumuko at sa iyo'y tinutok.
Dito ang ating tagpuan
Tuwing umaga'y pinagsasama
Parang dagat at buhangin, magkasama
Na nagsimula sa walang imikan.
Napawi ang bigat ng dibdib
Mundo't trabaho sandali'y naglaho
Parang alon ako'y lalayo
Minsan ako'y bumaba sa dyip.
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Tubig sa Dingding
Parang ritwal, sa araw-araw ay ginawa
Sa dingding na ito ay haharap.
Hindi madadaya ang sarili sa kaniyang
mamamalas. Tibok ng puso ay malakas
tuwing sa kaniya'y haharap.
Maraming tinig kung papansinin
Mula sa kaniya'y aagos, na parang tubig
Na babasa sa mesang nakadikit
Na kung hindi pipigilin, tutulo
Sa sahig, ang alpombra'y mamantiyahin.
Ang kalansing ng bakal sa bakal
Sa likod niya'y tubig na bukal.
Matamis tulad ng magandang balita
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Paradise Lost
I used to stand on Paradise
an earth filled with fine-grained pleasures
warmed by smiles and blue skies.
From the coast approaching the beach
I see, lined up are brave coconut trees
spreading and waving their open palms.
The deep is as blue as the clear sky
while a kaleidoscope of corals play
hide and seek with the current.
The scent of the blue-green sea
embracing me from all around
coming and going.
Until folly crashed into Paradise,
reducing the vibrant colors to a black,
floating putrid scent
of fowls, fish, floating life-less,
the flora looking for its green
that once was Paradise.
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Your lips are a cold mountain spring from which I often drink of your
affection flowing out endlessly, abundantly, until my desire is filled. That
is the second reason.
Your breasts, dear, are the third reason. I find comfort in its scent and
tenderness, like a roomful of incense for the quiet monk in reflection.
Your hands, dear, are the fourth reason. Let them lay siege against me,
and quicken my fall in them.
Your thighs, my dear, are the fifth reason. With them, our intimacies are
locked tight. The rapid pulse escapes your thighs to blend with mine.
I love them not, for their own merit, but for helping put together, you.
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Papa
You do not write, you do not write
Any more, letters
Where we often met, like in a city park
where lovers meet, for twenty years.
And who was always late? You.
Papa, I have had to hate you
You died after it simmered downHeavy like the urn, the ash
Of what used to be you.
Fiery end, yours.
Your feet stood in Hollywood
But they havent taken root,
The trunk is dry, the leaves had dropped off,
A foreign tree on a foreign soilThis was you.
I sought you in every older man.
I thought every father was you.
How many wise hands
Led me to pathways I never knew?
But, I forgot. They werent you.
You piled up mementos
of unshared memories,
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Sweet Conversations
I don't desire as much that we speak
Just let your eyes meet mine
And in it's own peculiar language of the soul
Let's carry on quiet conversation. Sweet
Across crowds in between
Love's small talk for you and me.
My wish for you is to be by me.
Let me savor your smile. Speak
Not, for love is strong that stands between
The silence of your heart and mine.
Let your glances linger for they are sweet
Fit like angel's bread for my soul.
In the private corridors of my soul
I nimble on thoughts of you loving me
I hear love songs play, their melody is sweet
With words that's fit for me to speak.
What better prize can ever be mine
Than to have you near and nothing in between?
Will fate disrupt this joy, come between
Our vows and cause this soul
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Macabebe Villanelle
This is the corrupted villanelle version...
The landscape has changed after Apo Omeng died.
Lahar came to bury the memories in mud, sun-dried.
Where is the "magtitinapay's" honking horn, in his morning ride?
It used to be the day's curtain call, a summer morn' has begun.
The landscape has changed after Apo Omeng died.
Where now is the "aplaya" that was green far and wide,
and the prettiest lass, her handsome lad, both in bloom?
Lahar came to bury the memories in mud, sun-dried.
Where will the "anaks" play under the watchful guide
of an apo calling each back when the day is done?
The landscape has changed after Apo Omeng died.
The old river carrying the motor bancas lost its pride.
In the mud, heartaches, frustrations took residence.
Lahar came to bury the memories in mud, sun-dried.
The landscape has changed after Apo Omeng died.
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Macabebe Villanelle
The landscape has changed after Apo Omeng died.
As pallbearer, I carried her memory under the sun.
Lahar came to bury the rest covering them in mud, sun-dried.
The "magtitinapay's" honking horn, in his morning ride
Was the day's curtain call, a new summer morn' begun
The landscape has changed after Apo Omeng died.
Where now is the "aplaya" that was green far and wide
where the prettiest lass and her able-bodied lad ran?
Lahar came to bury the rest covering them in mud, sun-dried.
Where will the "anaks" play under the watchful guide
of an apo calling each "anak" back when the day is done?
The landscape has changed after Apo Omeng died.
The old river carrying the motor bancas lost its pride
In the mud, staying behind, heartache and frustration
Lahar came to bury the rest covering them in mud, sun-dried.
The old house is gone but the visita stands. No one cried.
The capiz window, my daily glimpse of the world, is gone.
The landscape has changed after Apo Omeng died.
Lahar came later to bury the rest covering them in mud, sun-dried.
Posted by ManofTrueGod at 1:21 PM 0 comments
I'm
Childlike, joyous before your eyes,
feet on the bathtub, and starry-eyed.
wish we had fins so we can stay immersed
on our make-believe sea. We enjoy
the insipid rubber-duck as it gets
tossed, every where, in our small
space we call happiness. Wrapped up
in our carefreeness, life's trawl
awaiting in the depths, to catch
you and I unaware. Mute as the rose
floating on the water, ephemeral
but glorious in its redness, red
as blood that once floated in the
river Nile.
Warm like heated water, hidden partly
by warm vapors, like bubbles children burst
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Ode to Omelette
I see the omelette,
in this skillet,
sizzling.
I know
folks
will never believe me,
but
it is dumb,
the omelette is dumb,
its tongue
never ever came to fruition
its mouth
dissolved into nothingness.
I don't shudder
in reflection, of life's preciousness,
obliterated
in the form of an omelette.
In the poultry farm
the hens chat
their voice
can be heard from the distance:
none lament
nor fall in grief
over an egg
that became an omelette.
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Burn-Out Apparitions
The phone scolds me for inattention.
It screams, sends shock waves
across my office desk.
The papers chill, restless
in one corner.
The screen looks absurd,
It's nodding in agreement.
It's throwing alarms my way,
Left and right, one on top of another.
Its glass kept it from reaching me.
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Welcome Intruder
You come up to bed uninivited,
and my slumber you interrupt.
You pass through my window like a spirit,
but walks on the floor like a cat.
Some days you're gentle, some days rough.
I remove my blanket from me
the moment your hands caress my body
from the strands of my hair down to the toes.
You make me sweat in bed effortlessly.
I toss and turn, to the left, to the right.
I sigh, I surrender to your welcome warmth
embracing me tight. Burn me in your light.
Some days I miss you when the rain comes,
When gloom is splashed on my window.
I lie in bed lost in dreams
of you, your light, your glow, your shine.
Posted by ManofTrueGod at 3:41 PM 0 comments
Airport Haiku
the morning sunits brilliant light
piercing the glass wall.
on a clear day,
the sunlight
behind the glass wall.
on a row
of cold chairs,
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I sit alone.
Posted by ManofTrueGod at 4:45 PM 0 comments
NAIA Haibun
I'm seated on a row of white and cold boring chairs strung
together by metals on black painted pipes. I am cold
but these don't care. Each chair stood on grey-colored
carpeted concrete, the color of funeral parlors. The minutes
went on as men, women, and children carried on their parallel
lives on the same physical plane, tied down to these cold
chairs, keeping watch, of announcements. My eyelids are
getting heavier. I turned to look at
the morning sunits brilliant light
piercing the glass wall.
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An Appeal to My Muse
Your constant visits delight me.
How we ran together into the broad spaces
Of a white canvas yet empty
To be sprinkled with petals of your roses.
We filled it together with words and lines
Throbbing in rhythm like in a dance
The curious followed the trail of our vines
To the heights and depths he runs.
Our readers drank our potions
Sometimes sweet, oftentimes bitter.
But drink they did from our concoctions
Until they empty our words down to the letter.
But, today, my muse, I worry
Your cheekbones no longer rise
Your eyes are not anymore for me
The sight of me you despise.
For whatever hurt I caused you
Whether you confess or keep them
This I need to tell you
Before the rose is plucked out from its stemYou are dear to me like a child, a sister,
An intimate friend, the sweetheart of my poems.
Strike me a hundred times, let me totter
But, please, stay, sweetheart of my poems.
Posted by ManofTrueGod at 1:29 PM 0 comments
Sadness
Sadness.
'Tis when you let my hand slip away
from yours, first from your fingers grip
then through the length of your palm,
sliding past your finger tip.
Gloom.
'Tis when your eyes turned to look at me,
and they studied me like I were a stranger,
like we have never ever met before-
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Eyes senryu
a cold afternoon:
a pair of eyes
avoiding me.
Posted by ManofTrueGod at 6:40 PM 0 comments
Earthrise, Moonrise
The old seed used to roam under a deadly sky, home of fatal gases and
potions, the color of which is death. Lightning cooked up the potions while
the visible darkened heavens served it for then earth to drink until its very
mouth was frothing. The trees died not long after.
The old seed were fools for being unafraid of the sun, mother of killer
cosmic rays. The sun melted the ancient polar ice which overwhelmed the
indifference, which buried their folly under water, Atlantis multiplied
many times over. The grass has no shade to hide under. Instead, it
drowned in the water.
The thousand year of earth rest has ended. The sky has washed off all its
deathly impurities and the earth has purged itself of all the poison it drank.
The grass sprouted again, and so the trees. The sabbath has been paid.
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A new seed from among mankind has risen who have never seen a tree or
grass grow. Neither have they seen what a real blue sky is like or how green
the water can really be.
In the world they grew up with, the skies have always been black. The sun
has always been harsh. The landscape is filled with craters and dust. No
falls, lakes, streams nor seas. This new generation will plant their seed on a
new earth. Instead of waiting for an earthrise, these will see a moonrise.
Posted by ManofTrueGod at 6:27 AM 0 comments
Warming Up
I love it when she works me through.
This lady drives me crazy.
She bangs my doors so hard
I ache when it shuts.
Was she angry
with someone else, taking it on me?
When she's angry
she comes down
hard on my leather seat
her full weight depresses
the foam underneath the leather,
You can hear the air pressure
sighing underneath.
She held me immobile
Until the key unlocks me.
She grabs my stick
and pulls it hard.
Is she going to break it?
Her legs stretch themselves apart.
With one quick, heavy push
She steps on the pedalHow my engine roared with pleasure.
Posted by ManofTrueGod at 5:52 AM 0 comments
An Unfinished Poem
In one instant, night became day. A flash of brilliant light burst out in the
sky.
The blast wind came from a serene midnight sky descending, pushing, and
destroying like a rampaging train that jumped off its tracks. Houses, lamp
posts, signs and cars folded themselves in submission before this volley.
Death came to collect what's his by the breath of fire that came next,
devouring all things left standing. All colors were instantly reduced to
three- yellow, orange, and red.
The stench of burnt flesh is in the air, mixing with burning wood and
fabric, the sort of odor and smoke from barbecued meat.
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Then, silence inspected whatever remained, if any. The town was forever
muted - neither wails, nor moans. The stillness was eerie.
And from where I fell, from the table where I used to write a poem, there
was horrible heat all around. Nothing matters anymore not the walls nor
the ceiling, only the burning, the smoke, my burnt flesh, my ebbing life and
an unfinished poem.
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A slim, silver pen, full of the seed of dreams, is on the study table.
Underneath the pen is a white sheet, a garden waiting to grow one's
dreams, from seed to full soul.
The soul will ignite the pen like lightning's work for the earth, releasing
nitrates, mixing with the rain, preparing the garden for the seed to spill
on the sheet. Yet, the entire empty space lingered to the point of
restlessness. No seed spills out from the pen. Neither rain nor lightning
ever came to water the garden. It is dry. The soul is lost in the forest of
the mind, in a feared black hole, in the brain. It is enclosed so tight neither
its light nor its sound ever came out.
Detained in an unmarked isolated neuron, is a thought, with dying
embers of a little piece of the soul, its light forever enclosed.
Posted by ManofTrueGod at 10:53 AM 0 comments
Fly Leaf
What do I do with this Bible, on whose empty leaf I confessed my
affection for you, in black ink, over a couple of lines, had we not met, not
introduced, and at that certain intersection in time I took a different path,
and instead found another? Would my eyes sparkle still for her just like
when I caught sight of you? Would my heart leap in quiet joy, and will I
hold her hand the way I held yours, and will she let me the way you let
yours? What would she think of this Bible, this, my gift to you? Would she
say `thank you' with cheekbones rising, and will she open the fly leaf, and
read the words? Will her eyes lit up as she read the lines, and her color
change, blushing, as she concludes?
What would have happened with this Bible had I not found you? Would
the fly leaf remain empty? and for how long? Will I just file it away until
a kind angel bring you to me? Would I have retired my old copy instead,
the one filled with colored markings on thousand verses I came to love,
now worn with use? Would I have just started reading from it, all over
again, from Genesis to Malachi, from Matthew to the Apocalypse, looking
for new paths I have missed, noting down new places where a light shone
anew? Or, will the Lord instead bring you forth to me, to take this Bible
from my hand, and on the fly leaf, write your confessions in black ink,
that you are my Rebekah and you have found your Isaac? Would the
Lord?
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Your lips is a fountain of pleasure, from which I drink again and again,
the sweet juice of your affection flowing out endlessly, abundantly, as my
desire, my thirst, is never satiated. That is the second reason.
Your bosom, dear, is the third reason. I sleep well when I'm buried in
your bosom, a place of refuge for a weary worker, comforted by the scent
of your body, just as an incense's pleasant smoke ascends while the mind
is deep in reflection.
Your hand, dear, is the fourth reason. Hands that never tire in reaching
out to love's call- by embracing it, coddling it, and pressing it. No gap
between us can widen with your lovely hands holding me tight. I love
them for holding me close to you, skin to skin, breath to breath.
Your thighs, my dear, is the fifth reason. Their strength keeps me bonded,
to you. With them, our intimacies are secure, the centers of our ecstasies
in alignment. Your rapid pulses escape through the skin of your thighs
blending with mine. They bring me closer to the joys of intimacy- of yours
and mine.
But, it's not the pieces, dear, while apart, that makes me love them all. It's
what they present to me as a whole. And the whole is you. And only
because they are you- so I crave for them.
Of course, we both know, that I've just started with the less important
things about you.
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An Invitation
There she is, along the counterA black river flows down her nape,
across her exposed shoulder,
like a lovely oil spilling down her backHer glass is making out with her lips,
while my eyes caresses her arms, shoulder,
cheeksI caught two beautiful, shining stars
reflecting the room's bright lights
both set towards me.
What have I done to deserve her inspection?
I laughed with friends feigning disinterest,
for the unexposed fair skin under her dress,
seemingly unmindful of her eyelashes,
smiling in concert with her lips,
still set towards me,
discreetly I must say.
She turned away.
She stood up, finally, as if with a royal gait
A queen already done with her business.
She walked away but not before
Those pearls of hers once more caught mine.
Is this a summon? a command to comply?
And off she went her way.
A strong hand held my arms
Gently disclosing in my ear,'Go, she's yours.'
I laughed once more.
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their boxes. Indeed, all of their accumulated stuff - in all the years living
out an American dream including plain, trivial souvenirs. My Dad's
aren't ordinary boxes. Inside each of them neatly packed is a life of
unshared memory. Each item has their own unshared story.
I hated lugging around, from airport to airport, these boxes. `They slow
you down,' I complain but `You'll manage', he says. How true in every way
possible.
Some memory I would rather not keep. I prefer to travel light with just a
soda in the extra hand to sip. Back then, I thought, we had said our
good-byes, preparing for another hello, next time I come by. He already
gave a parting smile amid all these other boxes in the aisle.
There's a photo of my Dad, in black and white, all dressed up in a suit,
about to board a flight. I don't ever remember fetching him there, or which
day he left in December. All I know was that it was 1969, before the
country apparently lost its mind.
"The United flight bound for Manila is now boarding."
Urgent words. And so, I looked back and saw my Dad by the exit door.
`Dad!', I cried out like a toddler abandoned in his first day of school. He
understood what the call out meant. And words that pride and anger held
at bay for years were finally let go.
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And the child finally found his Dad, all the years of longing satisfied,
compressed in a tight embrace at the LAX.
(My father died sometime 1997, at the Martin Luther King Medical
Center, in Los Angeles, over a suspected overdose of pain killers causing a
massive hemorrhage in his stomach. This is for him.)
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In Moments of Silence
by Joel Josol
In moments of silence as this night is to me
When my fellows are deep in their slumber
You don't know how that miles of sea
Press heavily because we're not together.
These arms by habit reach out to you
They squeeze you close to me with all my power.
Now impulsively arms flex too
But discover your presence is nowhere near.
Sometimes the sadness is overwhelming, dear
Most especially so in moments of silence
But I summon spiritual strength rather than fear
Because I know that you love me ever since.
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2.
With these words be comforted child
by Joel Josol
With these words be comforted child
In your hour of misery, like a lone seagull at sea.
Do you see yourself an only flower wild
Sown on an alien soil but your presence
Unnoticed? A lost lamb in a strange place
Your master's voice faint, you can't hear?
Have you become a stubborn ground, where graze
No longer the flock and its sheperd?
O child, have faith in your dear Lord:
A lost lamb he'll always seek to find
An only flower sweet to your Lord
He'll give to another to cheer a restless mind.
Comfort them all who need it, my precious Child.
Then, you'll find, your sorrows no longer wild.
Posted by ManofTrueGod at 2:02 PM 0 comments
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Macabebe of My Youth
That sliding capiz window by the floor
is my coveted place in the old nipa house,
our 'bale'from it I saw life lived out
like a play repeated
every day. Every morning
passing by the dusty road
beyond our wooden gate,
is the day's curtain callthe 'magtitinape' honking his horn.
There's the boat men,
motors roaring loud.
On the old river,
these come and go.
Funny, they always looked
like sliding away. Next are my peers.
I race down the bamboo stairs
to the aplaya,
where we, the 'a-nak's, play our games
within hearing distance
of an apo's call. It's another playful day
after a scary night
of endless stories,
of aswangs, antikbalangs, and kapreschasing you in your sleep.
The sliding window is gone;
a new house stood over my memories.
But in the aplaya, we played new games.
There the prettiest lass
and the courageous lad discovered
their adolescence. In time,
the landscape changed and with it
their memories. Apo Omeng died.
And Lahar came
to bury what was left over.
Posted by ManofTrueGod at 1:31 PM 0 comments
Introduction to Seduction
I laughed heartily.
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Faith (haiku)
a conscience is white
as petals, only because
of the Christ's shed blood.
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Terminal Moment
The sound of other's laughter, voices, and chatter
is like a sudden whirlwind that lifted dust
off the dry earth to pierce my bare eyes.
I am alone. With my soda, on a long bench, thirst unquenched.
Sweet is the sight of a bench warmed by strangers with beaming faces,
by lovers who can't wait to get laid in the mattress, and
by businessmen dreaming of the green.
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Gazelle (haiku)
sun climbs to the peak,
warms the mountain air, panting
a gazelle pauses.
sun at zeniththe mountain carries
the gazelle to its peak.
sun climbs to the peak,
warms the mountain air:
a gazelle breathes.
Posted by ManofTrueGod at 1:11 PM 0 comments
Corals (haiku)
a kaleidoscope of corals
dancing in the deepa diver is watching.
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colorful corals
moving with the currenta diver passes by.
light pierces the deepriot of colors
among the corals.
Posted by ManofTrueGod at 12:19 PM 0 comments
Mighty Babylon
O mighty Babylon
The city which sat on many waters,
How swift your fall was
In one night your glory faded!
Where was your army
Who pillaged the towns of Judah
Who burned the walls of Jerusalem
And who scattered its children across the earth?
Where now was your mighty river
and the double walls behind from which you hid
And the gates that kept your enemy at bay
While your women enjoyed their dancing?
Are your able-bodied warriors drunk
Drunk with wine, and asleep in women's arms?
Why were the gates left open in a full-moon night?
A foreign army has marched up towards your gates.
Where were your gods?
Were they asleep in your towers?
A Persian stood to watch over your walls
Whose army spread themselves in your main avenues.
Did a runner run to call out an alarm
Your king and his army were feasting
While his city fell undefendedWhat a shame!
O mighty Babylon
The city whic sat on many waters,
How swift your fall was
In one night your glory faded!
Posted by ManofTrueGod at 9:24 PM 0 comments
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Babylon (senryu)
shadows on the rivermarching army trounces
the full-moon.
full-moon lightcity's open gate
is undefended.
feasting in the palacethousand enemy boots
approaching.
noise in the palacea king falls over
meat and wine.
Posted by ManofTrueGod at 9:22 PM 0 comments
Snapshots (haiku)
autumn light:
abondoned among the leaves,
a white lantern.
morning light:
a cat naps
in the couch.
noon:
fan cooling
heated laptop.
Posted by ManofTrueGod at 10:24 AM 0 comments
Resigned (senryu)
one vacated seat:
work left
multiplied.
one empty seat:
more leave later
in the night.
one less seatfewer stories,
fewer laughing.
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nagpahimbing.
Posted by ManofTrueGod at 4:42 PM 0 comments
Worklife (senryu)
snacks on the tableshort quiz
is taking longer to finish.
problem on the boardvoices
filling up room.
tapping the table
endlessly:
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a silent phone.
Posted by ManofTrueGod at 3:58 PM 0 comments
Sensual Geometry
Yours is the Y-axis
I take the X, reluctantly.
You're as sensual
as your plotted points rising on your axis,
but I control the shape
of your experience.
I bring blissyou sigh though restrained, as I approach
the positive quadrant of our intimacy
for your Y-axis goes to undefined levels,
perhaps infinity.
Your strength is as good as mine
what a beautiful sine wave of experience
we create thus.
Still, your rise, slow and sure,
is defined by the slope I create,
for the X-factor belongs to me,
and positive factors are your delight.
Together
we can repeat the cycle
going around the center
of our consciousness
to peak, then, to release
the speed is
of our choosing.
Play with me
and rotate our curves
in all the quadrants of pleasure
and perhaps, in the end,
you may yield the Y
and freely take the X.
Posted by ManofTrueGod at 4:44 PM 0 comments
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Vincent
In the clear evening sky of your mind
every starlight ripples across space
one circle touching another,
circles within circles,
a landscape of deep blues
and brush strokes.
Seeing a new world
your hands showed the way
using plain sunflowers
devoid of depth,
only lines and yellows
on the canvas.
Yourself in brush strokes:
the strokes of pale green on your forehead,
the outline of your face against warm violetbut 'twas your eyes that commune with mine
in sad colors,
despite the red and blue.
Were you as lonely as the shapes
in a cafe room bounded by red and green?
Was there joy in your yellows and blues,
dividing light and darkness in your outdoor?
Were you happier with deep blues
dotted with white circles?
Your brush strokes,
your strong hues,
your circles,
your linesa painful life story
on the canvas.
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Will you find affinity with Jesus Seminar folks? Hard workers digging into
history to prove that you were right. They sought to swim in the poisonous
waters of the gnostic gospels written a century after Christ, and fell in love
with the portrait they found in its depths. They sent to the shredder the
four gospel writers that were statistically closest to his time. You're a
mathematician. You know what I mean.
"It is not that their environment was made to be suitable to them, but that
they grew to be suitable to it, and that is the basis of adaptation."
O, you should see the confusion in the ranks of the Darwinians! It's neither
the noise of victory nor the dance of celebration. Unable to raise any dead
from the grave, or scramble at worst for the unexplainable and the missing
link that was never found, your friends have scattered into various new
theories. Perhaps you will enjoy Karl Popper, for he nearly called Darwin's
theory a superstition, requiring more faith than facts. But then such
language you reserve for religion.
Paumanhin
May luha sa mata ng aking anak
na bumulong sa aking kamay,
kamay na nagdala ng virus sa PC,
bawa't tipa sa kibord
ini-eko ang hikbi,
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Kabagutan
Paikutikot, paikutikot, paikutikot ang elesi
Papalapit, papalapit, papalapit ang hangin
Paikutikot, paikutikot, paikutikot ang elesi
Papalayo, papalayo, papalayo ang hangin.
Paikutikot, paikutikot, paikutikot ang elesi
Papalapit, papalapit, papalapit ang hangin
Paikutikot, paikutikot, paikutikot ang elesi
Papalayo, papalayo, papalayo ang hangin.
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Ho logos, ho theos
Ho logos, ho theos
Joel Josol
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Reflections (senryu)
rambutan
from stretched, fair-skin hand
ripe and red.
early morninghigh pitch, high tone
a broken vase.
a silent nightwarm breath, soft flesh
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Iskandalo
Iskandalo
ni Joel Josol
"The growing scandal has enveloped the company's chief executive and
its stock price."- Forbes online
Mahaba rin ang pagsusulit, `di na tanaw ang araw sa de-kulay na
bintanang salamin, kanina lamang nakapinta ang araw sa aking doblevistang salamin. Sa iskrin ng PC, iginuhit ang resulta na mas mataas sa
hininging marka.
"Investors placed sell orders immediately."- Forbes online
Makinis ang terminal ng aking tablet PC, malinis ang aking kibord, at
makintab ang mouse, lahat kasing-linis ng aking budhi. Wala ring kalat sa
ibabaw ng mesa, dahil sa clean-desk policy, kaya lahat ay itinago sa lihim,
kinandado, tinutukan ng kamera, at iniikutan ng guwardiya.
"Instead, this mole hunt involved trying to plant spyware on a reporter's
computer." Forbes
May memo sa lahat ay dumating, pinagbabawal mga computer programs
na umaagaw daw ng yaman ng kumpanya. Susuriin lahat ng terminal kung
may Yahoo messenger o kung ano pa, baka may streaming audio pa.
Kasing-bilis ng kidlat, PC nakorap o kinorap, `di na iyon mahalaga. Lahat
nawala. Na-virus yata.
"The blow-back from the investigation has caused the departure of two
board members."-Forbes
Musika ay di maaring tumigil, pumailanlang pa rin sa pagitan ng mga
cubicle mula sa radyong de-baterya nga lang. (De-baterya nga dahil ang
kuryente yaman ng kumpanya.) Walang kaso dahil wala na ring mga tao
na makikinig sa musika, pina-alis na, at silang humayo hindi na lumingon
pa. Wala ng itatago o lilinisin pa.
Posted by ManofTrueGod at 10:09 PM 0 comments
Lost
I see myself in every tear
that glides down your cheek
and hear my anger from each one
that drops on the floor-
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MO NDA Y, SE P TE M BE R 25 , 2006
Anger management
I am a black car
Speeding at 120 km/hr
from 40,
over a stretch
of opened up space
50m in length,
and the break
will be applied so hard,
everything unattached
in the car
will hurtle towards
the windshieldan opened can of Coke,
an unfinished sandwich,
a folder thick with paper,
her picture.
NOTE: You shouldn't do this with your car or somebody else's :-)
Posted by ManofTrueGod at 7:21 PM 0 comments
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1972
Dati sa black-and-white TV ko lang nakita
Kayraming nagma-martsa, magugulo at maingay sila
Dala-dala'y mga bandila, sinabi'y di ko pa unawa
Sa edad kong mura lahat ay di pa unawa.
Dumaan sa harap ko nagsisigawang pulutong
Taas ang mga kamao at ang mga bandilang mapula
Tulad sa TV nagsisigawan sila, sa ingay nila
Sinabi'y di ko pa rin naunawa.
Ika-21 ng Setyembre, 1972 nakita ko pangulo
Sa TV ay nagsasalita, mukhang seryoso ang mukha
At mahalaga ang sinabi. Tanong ko sa lolo, `ano po ang nangyari?'
Martial law, martial law raw. Ang bayan inilagay sa martial law.
Sa San Miguel sa Maynila, ay sinama ako
Malapit pala ito sa Palasyo, sa unang pagkakataon aking nakita
Malalaking tangke at mga harang na may sundalong may baril
Parang may giyera sa Maynila sa aking paningin.
Mga tao'y bumait, aba'y mga lalake'y nagpagupit
Parang umayos daw at tumino ang paligid
Nabasa ko sa Daily Express mabait daw ang martial law
Dito sa Pinas kung ihambing sa iba tulad ng Korea.
Isang gabi kami'y naghahatid ng isang maysakit
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Pagkapiit (Senryu)
damong sinisingit sa
pobreng amaindemonyong pulis
mas malamig ang hukom
kaysa sementonaantalang pagdinig
seldang walang higaanlahat ng panig
malapit sa paningin
ang pangako ng pulissa pagtatalik
may maagang paglaya
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Stones
One week ago, last Saturday, I went to the MMC ER to get relief from an
acute pain emanating from my upper right abdomen. It was so painful that
I was perspiring. After getting a pain reliever injection and urinalysis,
stones was the probable culprit. There was a presence of high
concentration of red blood cells and crystals.
After doing an ultrasound test last Wednesday, then blood test the next
day, it was confirmed that I got kidney stones but these were small. The
kidney was basically OK, normal in size. I am now under medication using
sodium bicarbonate and pain relievers for a period of two months to
remove the stones.
Posted by ManofTrueGod at 10:08 PM 0 comments
Ayala Avenue
Hindi ako sanay sa aking nakita
Dito sa Ayala natipon ang masa.
Libu-libo yata'y sa kalye nag-marcha
Kulay itim, pula, luntian o dilaw
Mga sagisag na dala at wagayway
Iisa ang sigaw, 'Arroyo alis diyan!'
Dati-rati'y marcha ng mga beauty queen
O kaya'y sikat na mga taga-showbis
Na tuwing dumaa'y madla'y palakpakan.
Siyang-siya sila, mata'y binusog nga
Hating-gabi'y abang hanggang mag-uwian
Punong-puno dito ng saya't awitan.
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Senryu
starless eveningunder a warm blanket
lovers hide
Posted by ManofTrueGod at 9:51 PM 0 comments
Senryu
cool Monday morningdisplayed sales funnel on screen
causes wet armpits
Posted by ManofTrueGod at 9:49 PM 0 comments
Senryu
light green eyes:
playing James Taylor audio
from iPod
Posted by ManofTrueGod at 9:49 PM 0 comments
HAIKU
gas station:
low on gas, low-end car
high prices
Posted by ManofTrueGod at 9:48 PM 0 comments
HAIKU
dental chair...
a bloodied wisdom tooth
gets unseated.
Posted by ManofTrueGod at 9:48 PM 0 comments
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SENRYU
cold hands:
the brothers and sisters cry
profusely...
Posted by ManofTrueGod at 9:47 PM 0 comments
SENRYU
pastor speakinga cobweb falls on the spanking
clean floor....
Posted by ManofTrueGod at 9:46 PM 0 comments
SENRYU
sea breeze
water blast dispersed the crowd
shivering in the cold...
Posted by ManofTrueGod at 9:45 PM 0 comments
Haiku
rain pours
drenching books and shoes:
ninoy on parade...
Posted by ManofTrueGod at 9:34 PM 0 comments
Haiku
life in a cab:
minute hand turning
countless times
Posted by ManofTrueGod at 10:04 AM 0 comments
Haiku
umitim ang kanal sa kalye
na puno ng tagas ng langis ng dyipnasan ang itlog ng lamok?
Posted by ManofTrueGod at 1:21 PM 0 comments
Haiku
diwang kubli
handa ng ihayagpapel sa printer
Posted by ManofTrueGod at 1:20 PM 0 comments
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Haiku
humihilab
bato sa pantogkama sa e.r.
Posted by ManofTrueGod at 1:18 PM 0 comments
Boston Sky
The sun climbs up in the Boston sky,
fully-stretched blue arc above me,
spattered with accents of white,
with the sun spraying its yellow light
across the city's breadth.
The silvery-white dome of M.I.T.
is a morning star
in the midst of shining gems
moving across the nearby waters.
My coffee cup is warm
with memories of a French caf
on Harvards side.
The aroma fills me up
with recollection of the cool breeze
under the shade of the trees.
The English houses in Commonwealth
and the brick buildings acrossred, blue, yellow, orangewake up to the light,
so poster card perfect,
accented by yellow
and orange fall leaves
congregating on the ground.
I kept Boston in a tiny tea bag
and filled it up with images
as big as the Boston Commons green,
as small as the lovely, female Caucasian smiles.
I packed in it even the giant Jamaicans
and their boom-box.
There's a time tunnel in the Musuem
of Fine Arts, racing across hundreds of years
partitioned by a painting or a sculpture.
I went back as far as Rembrandt,
lingered in Monet,
and stopped at Picasso.
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Haiku
she glances:
somebody will raise
his cheekbones.
Posted by ManofTrueGod at 6:11 AM 0 comments
Critical Eye
In the photographer's eye
everything is a picture,
every scene he studies,
and every face he explores.
His camera he aims,
he suspends time,
while his photograph he engraves in digitalhe records the world that he sees.
The curves in the face,
the movement of the shadows,
or the varying shades of colorsis a perpetual supply of pictures!
Don't be afraid when I look at you
I'm a photographer and you're my photograph.
Posted by ManofTrueGod at 5:48 PM 0 comments
Bored
The fragrant bed
with its pillows and blanket
can't take away
this lethargy.
The warmth of your body,
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Disconcerted
In the mall, I glance, look back, and I can't step away from it. With cash
creeping out of my pocket, I almost did buy it.
In the office, my heart beats fast as I turn towards that anxious corner.
Your chair is empty. You're not chatting on the phone, nor clearing the
strands of your lovely, black hair that fell on your fair skinned face,
enclosed in your little cubicle world.
I am in the mall again. The quiet corridor and its corner are gone. A
cacophony of voices pester me. People hound me, asking for money.
The corridor is back. The silence returns. Your empty seat is a cold gutter
water that a speeding car sprays on by-standers. So many unanswered
questions. So much yearning.
I open my eyes to discover that I never did leave. The last thing I
remember is the memory of an empty seat. I was taken away from you,
from me.
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justice went unheard. Every rice stalk that grows off such soil and bents
its head pays tribute to such courageous souls!
You want me to talk about my country? Ah, enough pain for a day.
Posted by ManofTrueGod at 11:33 PM 0 comments
Death (Haiku)
the cold front arrives:
on dug earth, six feet deep
warm teardrops fall.
The poem was written in memory of Bro. Hilarion Amores who passed
away at age 86.
Posted by ManofTrueGod at 10:35 PM 0 comments
Nagu-uring Mata
Sa mata ng potograpo
Lahat ay isang larawan
Bawa't tanawin ay inuusisang mainam
Bawa't mukha inuuri
At kapag kumislap ang kanyang mga mata
At kamera'y tinutok, sa isang iglap
Ang larawan ay naukit sa digital
At dito tumigil ang daigdig
Pinigil, inukit, iningatan
Hanggang sa ito'y burahin.
Mga pagbabago ng liwanag
At pagkilos ng anino
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HuangPu
Humahampas ang tubig ng Ilog HuangPu sa mga bato
Kung saan itinayo konkretong pasyalan
Dito sa kahabaan ng kaniyang mga pampang
Maya-maya'y nagtakip-silim at nagliwanag na sa tubig
Ang mga sari-saring kulay ng mga elektronikong ilaw
Mula sa mga de-kuryenteng mga anunsiyo na itinayo
Sa ibabaw ng mga nagtataasang gusali na nakahanay
Sa kabi-kabila ng kanyang mga pampang.
Samantala'y walang patid ang pagparoo't-parito
Ng mga turistang bangka sa kanyang mga tubig
Kitang-kita ang mangha sa kanilang mga mata
At ako nama'y dala ang digital camera
Walang sawa sa pagkuha ng mga alaala niya.
Posted by ManofTrueGod at 2:54 PM 0 comments
Bagot
mabangong higaan
maputing mga una't kumot
'di kayang palisin
lumalalim na pagkabagot,
katawan mo'y hanap
malambot mong dibdib
at init ng yakap
na sana siyang nagpapahimbing,
walang patid na pelikula ng HBO o Cinemax
kahit balitang CNN na gunaw na ang mundo
di pansin sa malayong otel na ito
walang anumang aliw dahil wala ka.
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Kagandahan
parang kailan lang
nang ika'y unang namasdan
nilampasan, di pinansin
ang kagandahang nilampasan
nguni't bakit sa tuwina
ngayo'y dumaraan
hindi mapigil sumilip
sa iyong kariktan
minsa'y hinuli mo
sadyang nilingunan
walang masabi, nagitla
kunwa'y walang nakitaparang kailan lang
ng ika'y pagmasdan
di pinansin kagandahang
nilampasan
salamat sa iyo
kagandahang-loob
sa nagmasid na ito
di mo ipinagkait
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langit sa akin
nang ika'y ngumiti
kung alam mo sana
minsa'y ika'y minaliit.
Posted by ManofTrueGod at 9:46 PM 0 comments
KVM (haiku)
K
angry eyes
makes black keyboard taps
sound louder
V
confused face
glows with too much light
from video
M
weary hands
points still mouse
on idle icons
Posted by ManofTrueGod at 12:48 AM 0 comments
Hiyaw
Dugo- nagmamadaling umagos sa mga ugat
Parang mga kabayong nagpapaligsahan sa takbuhan
Mga himaymay- na umiigting sa bawa't kilos
Mga ugat na nagpupumiglas sa balat
Puso- na bumibilis ang pintog, nagbubulwak ng dugo
Parang mga palo ng drum na iisa ang ulit-ulit na tibok
Hininga- na nagiging mabilis at pinagkakapos pa
Parang babae na magluluwal ng bata
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Nabasang papel
Maputing papel
Na nilipad sa sahig
Nabasa man din,
Naghalo-halo
Mga titik sa tubig
Ng likhang tula,
Naglaho na nga
Wala ng nagawa pa
(Buntong hininga!).
Posted by ManofTrueGod at 11:40 AM 0 comments
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in her humble makeshift home. I offered a Bible study to her and to her
children. She accepted. The third woman that I will passed on to my
pioneer wife.
With renewed determination to do more, I plan to re-organize my list.
Even if the householder had been on my list for up to six years back, I plan
to come back. This last woman was on my list three years ago.
I hope that Jehovah God can forgive me for the complacency in years past
and concentrating on just the present Bible studies. I now reduced the
number of invitations for public talks so I can concentrate on my ministry.
The search for honest-hearted ones has to go on and on even as we
continue to help out those who already showed interest.
Posted by ManofTrueGod at 11:48 PM 0 comments
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Isang Umaga
Isang umaga na naman na ma-abo ang langit
Makapal sa lambong ng ulap na busog sa ulan
Walang sikat ng araw na sana'y sa balat mainit
Parang gabi na ayaw pang mag-wakas
Kahit kapeng mainit hindi ako mapasigla
Sa mga umagang hindi ka nakita
Walang kaaliwan sa tanawing bumadya
Waring nagtago mga ibon na maingay sa umaga
Magbago kaya sa maghapon ang lumbay
Hawiin kaya ang lambong sa tanghali
At sa isang sulok ng langit ang araw ay matanaw
Mag-liwanag at tuyuin ang lupang mahapdi sa ulan?
Masulyapan ka kaya sa ibang araw
At marinig ang tinig ng iyong halakhak
At sa aking kopa ipunin ito lahat
At inumin ang kapeng nagtago ng alaala?
Tanong, tanong, at tanong pa
Naghahanap ng kasagutan
Na masusumpungan lang sa iyong mata
Na mailap tulad ng araw sa isang ma-abong umaga.
Posted by ManofTrueGod at 8:55 AM 0 comments
We satisfied our
curiosity with
this new big
mall. Tired of
walking around
the big mall, we
took a break at
the Starbucks
outlet.
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No Superhero
Maybe I just wanted you to know
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A Solitary Rose
a solitary rose
pricks your finger,
blood and rose as one
drip into the trash bin
crimson red
in both rose and thorn
blemished but pretty
yet abondoned in the trash
a card, a handwritten note
misses your heart
distracted by a solitary rose
and its thorn.
Posted by ManofTrueGod at 5:30 PM 0 comments
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"The exacting standards of ethics and morality imposed upon court judges
and court employees are required to maintain the peoples faith in the
court as a dispenser of justice, and whose image is mirrored by their
actuations," she said.
"The high degree of moral uprightness that is demanded of employees of
the government entails many sacrifices that are peculiar to the civil
service," she added.
The decision upheld Escritors right to the conjugal union as it chose to
adhere to the "benevolent neutrality approach in the Constitution that
gives room for accommodation of religious exercises as required by the
Free Exercise Clause."
"Thus, we find that in this particular case and under these distinct
circumstances, respondent Escritors conjugal arrangement cannot be
penalized as she has made out a case for exemption from the law based on
her fundamental right to freedom of religion," the court said.
Escritor and Quilapio on July 28, 1991 executed a "Declaration of Pledging
Faithfulness," which "allows members of the congregation who have been
abandoned by their spouses to enter into marital relations."
Escritor said the union was approved by the "elders of the congregation"
after confirming that her husband had left her.
The complaint was filed on July 27, 2000 by Alejandro Estrada before a
Las Pias court, claiming that such union constitutes an "immoral act that
tarnished the image of the court." Evangeline de Vera
Posted by ManofTrueGod at 9:10 AM 2 comments
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Good-bye
gud-bay
by joel josol
mahirap din palang isipin
kapag ang pagsasama'y nagtagal din
mga salitang binibigkas
kapag dumating na ang oras
paano nga kaya naging gud ang bay
kung may lumbay sa naghiwalay
baka kaya hanap-hanapin
mga sama-samang gawain
minsan parang sugal o lotto
madalas namang talo
ang bukas ay tinataya
sa bago ba mas masaya?
sana nga kung ganoon
upang mga ala-ala mo
na nagpapalumbay sa akin
mahalinhan ng bago
nguni't kung hindi paano na
may babalikan pa bang muli?
ang paglisan ay pagkakamali pala
hahanap na lang ba ng iba?
salamat na lang sa muling pagtanggap
di masayod pasasalamat
dito pa rin sa iyo at wala ng iba
masusumpungan ang tunay na saya.
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Ispesyal Pipol
'di ba totoo naman
may mga tao na dumating
sa buhay nating ito
sumabay sa isang awit
na gustong-gusto mo
kaya naman sa tuwing marinig
sa radyo o Windows media player
siya talaga ang naiisip mo?
kaya minsan kahit masakit
OK lang umiyak habang nakikinig
kasi matamis ang mga ala-ala
may ngiti ka pa nga sa labi
kaya lang dahil iba na ngayon
kaya may habol na luha
sa iyong magandang mga mata
pagkatapos naman wala na.
ispesyal pipol talaga sila
minsan walang kamalay-malay
di mo naman sinabi sa kanila
basta kapag narinig mo ang tugtog
ikaw lang ang natigilan
sa isang iglap mabilis na dumaan
parang pelikula mga gumuhit
na larawan niya na nakaimbak sa isipan
ang iba may theme song pa
noong mag-nobyo-nobya pa sila
kinikilig pa rin kapag naala-ala
kakulitan at kabaduyan nila
ispesyal pipol daw sila forever and ever
ang ibang awit tinatago nila
at dinidinig kapag nag-iisa
di puedeng i-share kasi para sa iba.
Posted by ManofTrueGod at 8:57 AM 0 comments
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Palaisipan
Bakit ang mga araw na di ka magisnan
May lumbay sa aking dibdib?
Bakit sa mga oras na di ka bumaling
Ako'y nagbu-buntong hininga?
Bakit ang iyong mga ngiti kahit di sa akin
Nagpapagaan sa damdamin?
Ano itong sakit sa aki'y dumapo
Kalituhan at palaisipan man din,
Ano mang pigil ay nagpupumiglas
Sana lamang ay huwag sumambulat,
Parang walang bait at isa lang ang batid
Kahit anino mo'y pilit masilip?
Bawa't bagong araw ay pagpupunyagi
Blankong papel nasusulatan ng titik
Salamin ng mga magulong damdamin
Na walang malay mong sinilaban
Mula sa malayo, mula rito
Mabuti walang iniwang abo sa daan.
Posted by ManofTrueGod at 12:32 PM 0 comments
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When he listens to the great melodies, the divine harmonies, he feels the
sorrows and the raptures of death and love. He is intensely human. He
carries in his heart the burdens of the world. He searches for the deeper
meanings. He appreciates the harmonies of conduct, the melody of a
perfect life.
He loves his wife and children better than any god. He cares more for the
world he lives in than for any other. He tries to discharge the duties of this
life, to help those that he can reach. He believes in being useful in
making money to feed and clothe and educate the ones he loves to assist
the deserving and to support himself. He does not wish to be a burden on
others. He is just, generous and sincere. Spirituality is all of this world. It is
a child of this earth, born and cradled here. It comes from no heaven, but it
makes a heaven where it is. There is no possible connection between
superstition and the spiritual, or between theology and the spiritual. The
spiritually-minded man is a poet. If he does not write poetry, he lives it. He
is an artist. If he does not paint pictures or chisel statues, he feels them,
and their beauty softens his heart. He fills the temple of his soul with all
that is beautiful, and he worships at the shrine of the Ideal.
In all the relations of life he is faithful and true. He asks for nothing that he
does not earn. He does not wish to be happy in heaven if he must receive
happiness as alms. He does not rely on the goodness of another. He is not
ambitious to become a winged pauper.
Spirituality is the perfect health of the soul. It is noble, manly, generous,
brave, free-spoken, natural, superb.
Nothing is more sickening than the "spiritual" whine the pretence that
crawls at first and talks about humility and then suddenly becomes
arrogant and says: "I am spiritual. I hold in contempt the vulgar joys of
this life. You work and toil and build homes and sing songs and weave your
delicate robes. You love women and children and adorn yourselves. You
subdue the earth and dig for gold. You have your theaters, your operas and
all the luxuries of life; but I, beggar that I am, Pharisee that I am, am your
superior because I am spiritual." Above all things, let us be sincere. (end
of article) * * *
Susan Jacobys Freethinkers says no one in public life today upholds
secularism and humanism in the uncompromising terms of Ingersoll more
than 125 years ago. He said "Secularism teaches us to be good here and
now: I know nothing better than goodness. Secularism teaches us to be just
here and now. Its end and aim is to make this world better every day to
do away with poverty and crimes and to cover the world with happy and
contented homes. These values belong at the center, not in the margins of
the public square." * * *
Another view. I have edited Joel Josol in part to be able to include most of
it. He wrote to explain why the Gnostics had a different view on Jesus and
his teachings. I agree with you that faith that is afraid to be examined or
afraid to find answers for questions looking for one is one that fosters
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This is truly a memorable year for me. Looking forward for another
memorable one.
Posted by ManofTrueGod at 4:07 PM 0 comments
Being cheated on: Many of us wonder and worry about itand some of
us have to work very hard to recover from this devastating experience. To
help address your questions on all facets of this topic, we recently hosted a
live chat with Dr. Gilda Carle, a relationship expert and best-selling author.
Here, we share her wise advice on how lies and infidelity can threaten a
relationshipand what to do if you find yourself navigating this rocky
romantic territory.
Q: What is the main reason for cheating?Dr. Gilda: There are many
reasons why people cheat. Sometimes it's what they saw in the house they
grew up in. Sometimes all their buddies are doing the same thing.
Sometimes it's because cheaters don't feel good about themselves and look
for people who will make them feel better. Sometimes a cheater's
relationship is crashing and he or she doesn't want to deal with that reality,
so cheating gets used as a bandage. And sometimes a person is so
self-centered and egocentric that all he (or she) can think of is me, me, me.
So there are many different reasons why people cheat. Your objective (and
all singles should do this) is to make sure that you size somebody up before
you become deeply, emotionally involved. And when you do, if you see a
pattern that existed in that person's behavior in the past you'll pretty much
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Mommy!
Mommy!
Is there a better word
To remind me of comfort and hope
In distressful times
In painful times?
Mommy!
The depth of my longing
Somewhere lost in my heart
Finds its peace in her arms
As she cradles me in her breast.
Mommy!
The sound of strength
The sound of security
The sound of affection
The sound forever ringing in my ears.
Mommy!
My teacher, my friend
My ambassador, my lawyer
My coach, my cheerleader
My firsts boss.
Mommy!
You are the first woman
Who loved me and loved me well
And who wished in her heart
That I find someone who will carry on for her.
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My Friend's Wedding
Ronnie Martin
and Liezle
Balingit at the
Tagaytay Pacific
Heights
reception after
the wedding.
i remember, i really do
by joel josol
i remember the first time, i really do
alone in a crowded room
with no friend anywhere in sight
you stepped out of nowhere
and took my hand
your hello changed my world.
i remember the first time, i really do
when you came down the stairs
didn't know what to expect, what to see
you came down the stairs
lovely as lovely can be
i felt unworthy.
i remember the first time, i really do
you sat in one corner
and i just passed by you
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MO NDA Y, AP RI L 17 , 2006
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It had been some time since Jack had seen the old man. College, girls,
career, and life itself got in the way. Jack moved clear across the country in
pursuit of his dreams with little time to think about the past. Hardly any
time to spend with his wife, son, mother.
Over the phone, "Mr. Belser died last night. The funeral is Wednesday."
Memories flashed through his mind like an old newsreel as he sat quietly
remembering his childhood days. "Jack, did you hear me?" "Oh sorry,
Mom. Yes, I heard you. Im sorry, but I honestly thought he died years
ago," Jack said.
"Well, he didnt forget you. Every time hed reminisce about the many days
you spent over his side of the fence as he put it." "I loved that old house he
lived in," Jack said. "You know, Jack, after your father died, Mr. Belser
stepped in to make sure you had a mans influence in your life."
"Hes the one who taught me carpentry. I wouldnt be in this business if it
werent for him. He spent a lot of time teaching me things he thought were
important...Mom, Ill be there for the funeral."
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Jack caught the next flight to his hometown. Mr. Belsers funeral was small
and uneventful. He had no children of his own, and most of his relatives
had passed away.
Jack and his Mom stopped by to see the old house next door one more
time. The house was exactly as he remembered. Every step held memories.
Every picture, every piece of furniture....Jack stopped suddenly.
"The box is gone." "What box?" Mom asked. "There was a small gold box
that he kept locked on top of his desk. I must have asked him a thousand
times what was inside. All hed ever tell me was its the thing I value most."
It was gone. He figured someone from the Belser family had taken it. "Now
Ill never know what was so valuable to him."
Returning home from work one day Jack discovered a note in his mailbox.
"Signature required on a package. Please stop by the main post office," the
note read.
Early the next day Jack retrieved the package. There inside was the gold
box and an envelope. "Upon my death, please forward this box and its
contents to Jack Bennett. Its the thing I valued most in my life."
A small key was taped to the letter. His heart racing, as tears filling his
eyes! Jack carefully unlocked the box. There inside he found a beautiful
gold pocket watch. Running his fingers slowly over the finely etched
casing, he unlatched the cover. Inside he found these words engraved:
"Jack, Thanks for your time! Harold Belser."
"The thing he valued most...was...MY time." Jack held the watch for a few
minutes, then called his office and cleared his appointments for the next
days. "Why?" Janet, his assistant asked.
"I need some time to spend with my family."
Email address: dahli_a@yahoo.com
Posted by ManofTrueGod at 12:03 PM 0 comments
sigla
sigla
by joel josol
Ang buhay waring mahiwaga
Di matukoy kung paano o bakit
Sadyang may mga kaluluwang
Ang pagkanaririto'y sapat
Upang sigla sa atin ay ibalik
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Matamlay
matamlay
by joel josol
may nakapansin ba ng iyong malamlam na mata
na naglilihim ng mga kasaysayang hindi mabasa,
parang bughaw na langit na sa isang iglap
pinuno ng mga kulay-abong makakapal na ulap
sa gitna ng tanghaling tapat?
may nakapuna ba ng mga pilit na ngiti
sa mga labing may igting at nangungusap
hinggil sa mga hamong nakatago lang sa iyong dibdib,
parang malamig na simoy ng hangin na may dalang ulan
na ibig mong iwasan?
may nakapuna ba ng katawan mong hapo
nguni't pilit na kumakayod
sa bawa't bagong umagang dumarating
na sana naisip mo sa tuwi-tuwi na
maari bang tumigil muna?
Posted by ManofTrueGod at 10:26 PM 0 comments
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Tag-ulan
Tag-ulan
by joel josol
"Charlie, its over."
Bakit ka nagpaalam at nanlamig
ngayong tagulan man din
Sa buwan ng Mayo na laging
basa ng ulan ang lansangan
Dito pa sa Paseo Starbucks
Kung saan kitang-kita ng lahat
Ang aking pagbabagong-anyo
Pati capuccinong mainit sa kamay
Pumaso pa?
"Charlie, I'm sori, got to go na."
Tumayo ka na at ako'y iniwan
Ano pa bang masasabi
Di ako type na pumipigil?
Bumuhos na naman ang ulan
Sa salamin ay sumilip
Di makita dyipni, bus, at tao sa labas
Humahampas ang hangin
(Nainis sa sarili, ang aking payong kung bakit ko iniwan)
Si Bamboo umaawit sa aking tainga.
Sa paglagos niya sa pintuan
At humalo sa karamihan
Parang hiyas na nahulog sa pusali
Babawiin ko pa ba siyang muli?
Bakit naninikip ang dibdib at
Nagbabaga ang mga mata?
Buntong-hininga, isa pa
Isa pang muli
Baka guminhawa.
Tumahimik na ang tugtog sa tainga.
Di ko malay kung sa akin
Ay may tumitingin ba
Napako yata ako sa silya
Kung ilang oras di ko natantiya
Madilim na, nagsindi na mga ilaw
Sa mga poste ng Paseo
Tumigil na pala ang ulan
Masikip pa rin ang lansangan
Parang dibdib na naulila sa sinta.
Posted by ManofTrueGod at 6:15 PM 0 comments
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sana
sana
by joel josol
sana tulad ka ng araw sa langit
kahit na sa dapit-hapon
ay magtago ang iyong ningning
uupo pa ako sa tabi at pagmamasdan
ang paglisan mo hanggang magdilim
may ngiti pa sa labi dahil sa tuwa
alam ko sa kinabukasan
masusulyapan ka pang muli,
sana tulad ka ng araw sa langit
babangon pa ako ng maaga
upang abangan ang mga silahis
ng una mong liwanag
kahit na minsa'y kinukubli ng ilang alapaap
tatagos at tatagos ang iyong ningning
hanggang ito'y maluwalhati
sa malawak na langit,
nguni't sadyang sa buhay
mga pagbabago'y dumarating
ang akala mong masaya
na 'di makita ang kaniyang wakas
bukas lang pala ay mapuputol na
at walang alok na pagasa na magbabalik muli
upang palitan ang lumbay ng mata
ng saya sa aking labi
hindi tulad ng araw na kahit sa gabi
may dalang pangako para sa bukas
parang mga alon ng dagat
na hindi mo alam kung saan galing
narito ngayon mamaya ay naroon na
pinasaya ka ngayon
mga alon na may kislap
ng liwanag ng araw
nguni't sumandali lamang
hindi nagtatagal na parang halakhak
na biglang tumigil nanahimik
biglang naglaho ang masayang alaala
at muling natanto ang totoo
hindi na siya magbabalik
kailangan man na magbuntong-hininga
ang sana ay huli na.
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na akala'y wagas?
sana'y hindi pa mag-wakas
sana'y mayroon pang bukas
sana ang daungan ay muling lumitaw
upang ang pusong naglayag
ay sa wakas dumaong at matiwasay
at ang talon ng luha ay matuyo
at ang sigla ng matang umiibig
ay magbalik.
Posted by ManofTrueGod at 10:15 PM 0 comments
'click'
This poem recollects the painful experience of a friend.
'click'
by joel josol
happy memories, sweet moments
erased like a whitemarker ink
with just one sound
'click'
all the promises,
the vow of togetherness forever
abruptly ended with a
'click'
i defied my wisdom
i surrendered to my heart
and get humiliated by a
'click'
i asked you forthrightly
do you love me still
and my receiver only heard a
'click'
i don't know why or howmy soul just wept for nights
over a hanged-up phone and a
'click'
Posted by ManofTrueGod at 11:27 PM 0 comments
Some People
some people
by joel josol
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Ngiti
ngiti
by joel josol
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Selsman Tok
selsman tok
by joel josol
alam mo ikaw na, di makakaila, di ba?
'heto na naman' ika mo sa sarili
naka-display sa projection screen
talaan ng kliyente mo at sa tabi nila
nakahanay maraming numero
iisang tanong lang naman ang sa tuwina'y
bibigyan mo ng liwanag, di ba?
(hindi ba nila alam isang linggo pa lang ang dumaan
hindi ko naman pedeng diktahan kliyente ko, di ba?
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In
the
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Tender
tender
by joel josol
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After negotiations with police authorities, the rallyists were finally allowed
to converge at the Ninoy Aquino monument around 5:30pm.
Posted by ManofTrueGod at 5:28 PM 0 comments
At
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both ends, police forces block the way towards the corner of Ayala Avenue
and Paseo de Roxas.
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i miss you
mom
whenever i am
sad
or lonely
did run to
you
rested my
head
on your shoulder
things then becamealright
i miss you
mom
whenever i felt like
returning
all the love you gave
me
all the million beautiful
things
you sharedyou know i would
but you left before
i could
i miss you
mom
whenever i felt like
saying
'thank you'
for standing up beside
me
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looking at
minei yearn for
the sound
of her
speech
falling
sweetly
into
my
earsi crave
for
her company
no
matter
how
briefcan i
wake up
from
this
intoxication,
before i
spin
out of
control?
Woman
woman
by joel josol
i used to pride myself being logical
getting facts and numbers first
plus with critical thinking
isolate the truth from the heap
but, alas, with youi am ill equipped.
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I Remember
i remember
by joel josol
i remember a school mate
taller, fairer and more handsome
who nursed a broken heart
he grew up in a family that split apart
living with his dad who was always out
nobody ever wanted him for a friend
i will never forget the look in his eyes
the loneliness and the pain...
i remember a childhood friend
fair and lovely and sweet
we spend many fine times together
had good laughs, lovely memories
but we grew up apart and parted wayswe kept our friendship over the years
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Lowly Poet
when you see my eyes sparkle
at the sight of you
please do not think ill of it
when you see a smile
break out naturally
please do not speak ill of it
sometimes i get confused
sometimes i get rattled
please do not misjudge it
i have neither evil
nor harm in my ways
i'm just a lowly poet
before his muse.
Painful Heart
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Little Joys
a pair of lovely eyes
a lovely smilefills an empty space
with many little joys
like drops of water
from an overcast sky
to a ground thirsty of the rain
so its flowers may bloom:
a gentle, sweet laughter
a graceful gait like a pretty picture one keeps
in some hidden book page
such are little joys
they are short and sweet
but priceless every time
nevertheless.
Posted by ManofTrueGod at 3:56 PM 0 comments
Ultra
doon daw sa Ultra, naroon ang pag-asa
walang gagawin kundi pumila, sa makalawa mayroon nang pera
doon daw sa Ultra, kunin na ang ticket ng pag-asa
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Isang Araw
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Poetry
The last two months something has awakened in me- my passion for
poetry. My emotions were re-ignited again and the words started flowing
all over again. It is a nice feeling to be able to articulate things in a creative
way using visual images that appeal to the senses.
The poem "like a falling star" is actually a tribute to my muse who has
unknowingly ignited my imaginations. The piece "kailan" is a more painful
version of "like a falling star" while "what of it" is a snubbish reaction of
the same experience. The piece "what a lovely smile is like" is a more
positive version of the same experience.
I always wanted to write poems about work and the piece "Isang Araw" I
think has managed to do just that.
I also wanted to write something about my lovely wife and our marriage. I
am glad that I was able to write "Isabel", "Choice" and "Sweet Morning".
I intend to read some contemporary poetry written in modern format to
hone my skills some more.
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Kailan (When?)
This is for the
broken-hearted.
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What of it?
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Choice
I
wrote this in the occassion of our forthcoming 20th anniversary on Feb 15,
2006.
(Photo was taken from the US Coast Guard web site showing the Satori
boat that caught itself in a real storm in 1991.)
Posted by ManofTrueGod at 10:56 PM 0 comments
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Isabel
Heat of Day
Clear and
cloudless skies
for miles and
miles with the
city smog above
the metropolis,
and you know it's
hot weather
outside.
This is quite a
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Rush of life
Take time to listen to the chirping of little birds in the morning
And with patience watch the dew gliding on the blades of leaves
And hold on a little to the warmth of a child's embrace ...
For life isn't realy about rushing
From one calendar item to another,
Time can't be just like money you budget to spend.
Life is about being here now and choosing to enjoy it
Though the birds little feet stand on a dilapidated window
And the blades of grass grow despite the garbage dump
And though the child's illness will cut its life shortYou will choose to hear the beautiful
And see the wonder of life
And feel the will to live.
Give out your smiles generously even to strangers
Hug your friends and hug them warmly
Say your 'i love yous' as often as you can
For in the rush of life
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Bethel Tour
It's a holiday. We
took advantage
of this break to
bring our Bible
students to the
local branch. As
other holidays,
the brothers
from the
provinces
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descended to the
local branch to
tour the place.
From this photograph, you can see the new residence building in the
background.
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HP Presales Team
This is presently
the members of
the HP Presales
team. We were at
the home of
Karen who
hosted our
symposium
planning session.
No t visible in
this photo is
Ryan who is our
non-regular
employee doing
Config and Quote.
Don, who is our team leader, is at the far left, followed by myself, Karen,
and Jon. Karen does storage, Jon does ProLiants, and Don and I cover the
BCS servers.
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Childhood Friends
Through the
years....
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A New Room
A mini-theatre
project funded
by HP USA.
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neighborhood
every weekends
for most of them.
Young and old, men and women, share in this form of Christian giving.
Jehovah's Witnesses work in the neighborhood where they live. So most
people are already familiar with them. JW children meet their children in
the same school. JW mothers and wives meet mothers and wives in the
marketplace.
These candid
shots were taken
with a camera
phone via the
Motorola RAZR
V3 which
unobtru -sively
captured these
moments in the
Kingdom
preaching work
of Jehovah's
Witnesses.
These are scenes in the territory worked on by the San Andres
congregation of Jehovah's Witnesses in Manila, Philippines.
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Messenger. This
allowed me to
sell of my Nokia
9300
Communicator
and generate
some badly
needed funds.
Posted by ManofTrueGod at 12:06 AM 0 comments
Black is Beautiful
Due to the
changed
financial
circumstances, I
have to sell off
my previous
business phone,
the Nokia 9300
Communicator.
The buyer paid
in cash and in
kind - a Motorola RAZR V2 phone. Now, I have to learn to use a new
phone.
Although I no longer have the Communicator but I got issued by my
company, a Pocket PC phone- the HP iPAQ hw6515. It now serves the
function of the Nokia 9300 Communicator.
Posted by ManofTrueGod at 1:29 PM 0 comments
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congregation.
They will then help their families to apply the instructions found at pages
28-31 of the Benefit from the Theocratic Ministry School guide book.
Posted by ManofTrueGod at 12:11 PM 1 comments
Sometimes Life
Sometimes Life
by Joel Josol
Sometimes life is like a road
Whose Exit signs we sometimes miss
And forces us to drive ahead
Looking for the next nearest exit.
Sometimes we thought that Exit is the one
Only to head back on the highway
Now we are lost, the next best move
Could be a a rest on some diner along the way.
Sometimes life is like a diner's place
Where we can slow down our pace
Look at our watch and notice
The lengthening shadow on the ground.
Sometimes life is like a map
Unconsulted, by a driver always in a hurry
That after wasting gas and time
Will pull over the side road to read the map.
Sometimes life is just about moving on
The roads we travelled
The exits we went through
The diner or side road where we once stopped.
Often times life is about being here now
Whereever it is, whenever it is.
We can only recall yesterday and
Dream about tomorrowBut, life here now
We can live
We can experience
We can share.
Dedicated to my sick friend, Mayick, whom I met at Mapua
Institute of Technology. She worshiped the same God as I do.
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Goodbye SD-Camera
Here is my
SD-camera for
the MPx200
phone.
It is going as well
as part of the
disposal of the
Motorola
MPx200.
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Gadgets
Here is the new look of my table with the new smartphone that I am using,
the Nokia 9300 smartphone, alongside my HP Tablet PC tc1100.
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Depression x4
Two disfellowshipped individuals got their disciplinary action. it turned
out that they already had depression which was something I was then
trying to comprehend. It is only of late that I got the full picture when two
people from my family caught it as well - my sister and my youngest
daughter.
The first two disfellowshipped but depressed people were crying for help. I
extended it to them. I gave them medicines. Asked them to see a
psychiatrist because it is treatable. It can't be overcome by just the force of
will. It is a disease.
Meanwhile, I am focused on my youngest. Keeping close monitoring of her
progress. There is so much to rejoice in every little step that she takes
towards recovery.
With the help of the medicines, she is now thinking straight. She no longer
hates Jehovah. She has taken the initiative to make friends. She now plans
for her future.
Her doctor is right. It is not productive to dig in the past and figure out
what led to this. What is important is what can we do to get on the way to
recovery.
In my own reflections, I wondered where I was amiss. I read
developmental psychology when these children were still in their mother's
womb. I taught them their ABCs as little kids. I played with them a lot. I
taught them the Word of God. I was sensitive with the influences of people
around them. But, I guess, the psychiatrist is correct. Focus on moving on,
and improving the environment to pave the way for recovery.
May our loving heavenly Father bless our efforts toward this direction.
And may he have mercy on those who have to deal with this as they repair
their relationship with Him.
Posted by ManofTrueGod at 11:30 PM 1 comments
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MPX200 has
served me well
for the last year.
Its SD camera
allowed me to
capture some of
the places I have
been.
But, with the
new Nokia 9300 Communicator, with its own small form factor, I no
longer need a second phone that is small and perfect for weekends.
The time has come to retire a good old friend who served my needs well.
I will be
camera-less for a
while. Hopefully
I will be able to
trade this phone
with a 3MP
digicam one of
these days.
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But for me the Nokia 9300 value is higher subjectively because of its slim
and light factor.
For the first time in the year after upgrading to the PalmOne Treo 650, I
am finally happy with my smartphone.
Posted by ManofTrueGod at 4:11 PM 1 comments
MO NDA Y, SE P TE M BE R 26 , 2005
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Annual PE Accomplished
I have finally completed my physical examination for the year. I compelled
myself to when my blood pressure shot up to 130/80 for the first time. I
am now waiting for the results.
Posted by ManofTrueGod at 12:58 PM 0 comments
MO NDA Y, SE P TE M BE R 1 9, 2005
September Morn'
It's September and the sores are back as scheduled. But I manage to give a
public talk at Jared's congregation in BF Paranaque Tagalog.
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Friendsters
I think I am going to try this one. I have just asked my youngest to invite
me :-)
Posted by ManofTrueGod at 7:59 PM 1 comments
MO NDA Y, SE P TE M BE R 1 2, 2005
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on my path.
My daughter has come to dislike God. She believes that if God were really
all wise and all powerful, God would not allow this. To her it is
incompatible for God to be all wise and all powerful and have all this pain.
Tonight we remember Job. We read Job.
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SAP
There is an uptrend in the SAP installed base and as an HP technical
consultant focused on SAP, this contributes to high workload for the past
weeks. I am hoping that this translates to good business for HP. With the
rise of the price of oil in the world market, it is interesting to see whether
those budgets will be spent or conserved.
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In my work with the poor, I teach them what the Christian hope offers: it
helps us cope and deal with the present while offering a brighter future.
The better future is not through any politician or would-be human Messiah
or any political man-made system. The founder of Christianity taught
about a government God would use to replace all human governments. He
called it the Kingdom of God. That agency would transform this Earth back
to its original state called Paradise. And we are living at a period of time
that the founder of Christianity described as a period of change leading to
the establishment of that government on earth.
Some of the poor believed. They have recognized that living a Christian life
has practical benefits today, while they await for the lasting solution by
God's government. They are no longer hopeless, or helpless, or worthless.
They regained their dignity. They even have the courage to do a like
mission and knock on a rich man's door with a message of hope. No, they
are not asking for our alms. They are on your doorstep offering hope.
Joel Josol
Posted by ManofTrueGod at 11:33 PM 0 comments
One Theme
I sent another note to Randy David as a follow-through note:
I hope that you find this note worth your while if only to widen your
perspective with just one more angle of discussion.
The proposition that I shared with you as presented in my previous note
that divine intervention is the only guaranteed solution to a structural
change that will bring forth a just and prosperous society rather than
human means or methods is way radical for humanist thinkers.
With this note I would like to share two things: 1) what divine
internvention is not, and 2) what it is.
1. Let me clarify what divine intervention is not.
Diviine intervention is not through religion or religious representatives
minding the political business. Neither is it through religious
representatives presenting themselves as a viable political option. Neither
is it through clergy-theocracy either direct or indirect as it once was in
Latin America and is the model in some Islamic countries.
The first one contradicts the "separation" doctrine by the founder of
Christianity himself. "They are no part of the world*", Jesus himself stated.
Other Bible versions render it "do not belong to the world".
The second one contradicts Jesus rejection of political power himself. I
raised this point last time that when the Jews were to "take him by force
and make him king**", he disassociated himself from the initiative.
Given the above fundamentals, the third one contradicts both.
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from God, and its contents are truly divine. If it can be asserted that all of
these are true, then the theory of divine sovereignty and its implications
are no longer just for intellectual exercise.
* John chapter 17 verse 16
** John chapter 6 verse 19
+ 1 Chronicle 28 verse 5
++ Luke chapter 1 verses 32 and 33
# Apocalypse chapter 11 verse 15
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Christians during the first two hundred years of our Common Era were
deemed subversive against the established order. How would a Roman
political leader interpret for example the letter of Paul to the Christians in
Rome advocating that Christians "do not model [their] behavior on the
contemporary world, but let the renewing of [their] minds transform
[them]" (Letter to the Romans chapter 12 verse 2, The New Jerusalem
Bible) Christians were advocating change aggressively; first, themselves as
individuals and second, society as a group.
It is noteworthy that the apostle Paul here used the Greek word
metamorphose.
There is one significant way that Christians introduce change: dropping
their loyalty to human governments and advocating change by hoping for
the realization of the Messianic Kingdom to transform the world. The
apostle Peter steadfast stance before the Jewish Sanhedrin reflects such
Christian position: "Obedience to God comes before obedience to men."
(Acts of the Apostles chapter 5 verse 29)
Neither Jesus nor the apostles nor the Christians of the first two centuries
advocated systemic change within their contemporary world with them
being instruments of structural system change. Jesus did not criticize
Roman governance or advocated their withdrawal in Palestine due to its
immorality. He, in fact, even supported the payment of taxes. Radical Jews
who opted for change through violent means were disappointed cleary
with Jesus. When the Jews tried to make Jesus himself their political
leader through people power, Jesus abondoned them to themselves.
"Jesus, as he realised they were about to come and take him by force and
make him king, fled back to the hills alone." (Gospel of John chapter 6
verse 15)
The Christian stance was to advocate change in the individual while
cooperating without compromising their principles in the contemporary
world. Positive and lasting change in the world system will not happen
through them minding the business of the contemporary world. But their
Master instructed them to evangelize about the instrument of system
change - the Kingdom of God.
The ancient prophet Daniel (although many in recent times have appeared
to discount Daniel's writings only to be refuted) and corroborated by the
apostle John in his last book Apocalypse foretold the final state of affairs
for all political regimes: "In the days of those kings, the God of heaven will
setup a kingdom which will never be destroyed, and this kingdom will not
pass into the hands of another race; it will shatter and absorb all the
previous kingdoms and it itself will last forever." (Daniel chatper 2 verse
44)
In that chapter in Daniel's book, the political regimes of the earth were
represented by a huge image of a man made of various metals. A piece of
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stone from a heavenly mountain came down to hit that image at its feet,
shattering it to pieces. That stone became a mountain covering the earth.
The above verse was Daniel's explanation.
Systemic change, yes. But not through human means or intervention. The
Jewish elite and the Roman political system did not get this and were
threatened by this teaching. Believing in such a possible change were
considered subversive.
Interestingly, communist rebels who have heard this message thought this
message evangelized by Jehovah's Witnesses about a violent change in the
political system were same as theirs. It is not. The clergy during the
Marcos era who heard this message from us cautioned us that Marcos will
frown at a minimum on such a message. Well, Hitler and Stalin just like
the Roman emperors dislike this gospel so much that they threw its
messengers in the concentration camps and Siberia.
With so much advocacy for change in various disparate ways, I hope that
this message isolate the true biblical message on change.
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pestilence that will happen globally. He described that people will be filled
with fear due to the uncertainty of the future.
His followers described this time as "the last days". The time when the four
horsemen of the Apocalypse will be riding fast and furious.
Where is the good news in that? The good news is that these events taken
together herald the approaching time when the government put up for
Jesus, called in the Bible, as Kingdom of God, will replace human rulership
or man-made governments.
If you have time to read the Bible, just to satisfy your curiousity, check
Daniel chapter 2 verse 44. Then, go on, and turn your Bible in Revelation
chapter 11 verse 15. There you will read God's purpose for removing
man-made governments.
Jesus provides the historical context of when this is going to happen in his
discourse in Matthew chapter 24 verses 1 to 8.
The good news is that human rulership will give way to God's Kingdom
government. What does the Kingdom promise to do? When Jesus was on
earth, he raised the dead, fed the hungry, cured the sick, and taught people
godly values. All of that were just small demonstration of what he could do
for us when this Earth is converted into a global Paradise.
If you wanted to know more about this but don't have the time, you can go
to this web site and study this subject on your own pace http://www.watchtower.org/library/rq/index.htm
There are many online Bibles. One of them is here - http://watchtower.org
/bible/
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Umbrellas
I was on my way
back from a
customer call
when the rains
poured heavily
on the street and
people start
using their
umbrellas.
This is a
snapshot of one
scene near our
offices.
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We are finally in the commercial district of the City of Makati with the
famous intersection of Gil Puyat and Ayala Avenues. Another trivial event
in my life.
Muscle Spasms
Because of the
recurrence of my
muscle spasms
along the leg and
shoulder, I now
really need to
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undergo physical
therapy. My first
session started
today and will
complete this
weekend.
Posted by ManofTrueGod at 11:29 PM 0 comments
SUNDAY, JU LY 31 , 2005
A Trivial Path
This is the covered parking
area. I just felt I need to take a
snapshot of this insignificant
moment in my life.
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SUNDAY, JU LY 17 , 2005
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including the
administrator to
logon, on my
personal
Presario
Notebook. I was
forced to
reinstall XP Home, using my licensed XP Home media but using the
product key pasted underneath the unit.
Good thing I was able to copy some of the files on my HP-issued Tablet PC.
The reinstall allowed me to secure the unit by keeping up to date with the
recent patches and removing extra unused software, especially,
peer-to-peer softwares. My kids have come to appreciate the principle of
intellectual property.
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hope of all humanity. Naku sanay pala sa balitaktakan iyong driver, alam
ang mga teachings natin. Hindi ko siya pinatulan. I stuck to my objective
to preach about the Kingdom.
Posted by ManofTrueGod at 5:20 PM 0 comments
Yellow Day
The rally today
looks different
from last week's
consisting of
leftists and
recruited poor.
This early, we
see a large group
from the Eddie
Villanueva JIL
group. He lost
the in the last
elections.
Posted by ManofTrueGod at 5:10 PM 0 comments
Deserted
Roads were
blocked.
Commuters have
to walk on the
deserted Ayala
Avenue.
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Red Day
A handful of
people, mostly
leftists and from
the recruited
poor, gathered at
the corner of
Paseo and Ayala
last Friday.
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causes people to
disperse if they
are in rallies. I
am sure some
folks hate it
when it rains like
this.
Posted by ManofTrueGod at 3:26 PM 0 comments
New Office
We have finally
moved in our
new office. It
looks a lot
spacious, comfy,
and with the new
clean desk
policy, very
professional
looking. It makes
you want to
come report for
work.
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the recent
exhortation to
make our
teaching more
effective. This
chart should
make the next
CBS session
easier to appreciate and understand.
Posted by ManofTrueGod at 8:31 PM 0 comments
You can see here the smog from the skyline of Makati. Even after the rains,
the smog remains. You can see the Manila Bay at the horizon.
Posted by ManofTrueGod at 12:14 PM 0 comments
SUNDAY, JU NE 26 , 2005
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different locations.
Posted by ManofTrueGod at 9:42 PM 0 comments
The residential tenement buildings for the poor along the railroad track.
We work this area to help people value Bible education.
Posted by ManofTrueGod at 1:44 PM 0 comments
The view of the Ayala-Paseo de Roxas intersection from our 20th Floor
conference room.
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SUNDAY, JU NE 1 9, 2005
Resuming my Ministry
It feels so good to be able to resume my field ministry after having been
sidelined for almost a month due to my sores in my mouth and tongue. I
am looking forward to go full-blast again after May due to this illness my
output has sagged considerably.
Posted by ManofTrueGod at 7:59 PM 0 comments
Swapped phones
I finally came back to the Nokia Communicator. I offered my Treo 650 for
a swap with the Nokia 9500 Communicator. Someone from the Office of
the President took up the offer. We met at the Podium in Ortigas and
completed the swap. I am a happy man.
Posted by ManofTrueGod at 10:23 PM 0 comments
It's Over!
I am thankful to my God Jehovah that my sores ordeal that went for one
month is over. I was able to come tp the CA, benefited a great deal, did my
baptism chore and cleaning chores.
Isa na lang naiwan. My right foot is stil hurting. Its my annual physical
exam anyway. I will have this check. God, it's so good to be able to chat
using my voice again. I can resume my preaching work and teaching work.
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The view from the tail of the boat where the swimming pool is.
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An early morning shot at the larboard, that is, the left side of the boat. I
even took a video of this side of the boat using my Treo 650.
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Guess What
I told Father Jehovah that I have done what is humanly possible to
accelerate the healing of my sores. Sunday finally came and I left it up to
Him to do what He will permit. Guess what? I was able to talk for 45 mins.
with no major break due to pains from the sore. I thanked Father Jehovah
for extending to me His loving-kindness one more time.
Right after that, I was back to having difficulty speaking due to the sores. I
still have one under my tongue. Now, hopefully, this one goes away before
my next Sunday public talk in Manila.
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Dust Crew
Since our house is undergoing repairs, dust is all over. And to the nth
degree today, when Kitchen Co. delivered and installed their modular
kitchen with granite kitchen top. It was a good thing that I have a many
nephews who would do the work of cleaning up the place in half an hour
and then we had a feast of canton noodles and Coke.
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Sunday Disabled
For the first time in the longest time, umattend ako ng pulong ng walang
narinig sa akin dahil sa aking mga mouth sores. Hirap din ako na makinig
at tumitig sa speaker dahil sa aking sprained shoulder.
And the afternoon was spent as a complete rest.
Posted by ManofTrueGod at 12:52 PM 2 comments
The new wash area. White tiled flooring, and white cabinets on mint green
walls. The one covered with blanket (L-side) is the washing machine. We
are using this space for kitchen while the modular kitchen is not yet
installed.
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This is the combined space of the living room and computer-library area.
The TV is the one covered with blanket (R-side) under the stairway which
is now inside the house.
Posted by ManofTrueGod at 10:25 PM 0 comments
Ground Floor New Look. The new door and window is where the old gate
used to be. This picture was taken while the house is still work in progress.
New House
Finally, we had decided to repair the house and make it as one whole
house.
Previously, our two storey house used to have two residences. We occupy
the upper floor and I accomodated my brother and his family with my
single sister downstairs. Now, we have the entire house to ourselves.
The first floor was expanded. The space for the wash area was claimed to
be part of the living room. The stairs going to our residence was now inside
the house. The wash area and the old living room downstairs are now one
living room space. We placed the wash area at the far end of the first floor
towards the back.
Adjacent to the living room is the kitchen and dining. We are awaiting
delivery of the modular kitchen, with integrated La Germania cook top. We
will use our old sink upstairs for the integrated sink.
The living room is painted peach, with the enclosed computer area in light
red-violet, and the kitchen and dining in dark blue-violet. The enclosed
wash area with its own screen door entrance is painted light mint green
with white cabinets, white tile floor, and white doors for the rest rooms.
What used to be light colored plastic ceiling on the old wash area, there is
now a Galvacolor roof in dark red.
Upstairs, the living room became the master's bedroom with the big
French window. The old dining and kitchen area became Micmic's room
painted in sky blue with one wall painted with mint green. Doors and
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cabinets are in white. The old two small bedrooms at the far end of our old
residence will become one where Cathy will stay with her aunt Ruth. Cathy
wants pink for the walls.
The second story ceiling was enhanced with insulators to reduce the heat
emanating from the ceiling. From the master's bedroom, two air duct fans
were installed to deliver the cool air from our air-conditioned room to the
two other bedrooms. We used hardilite/hardiplex for the ceiling.
The first floor two air duct fans were installed. One to suction air from the
outside into the computer area. The second was to suction air from the
kitchen out of the house.
In two weeks, this will really now be a new house. With a little tweaking, I
will move our CBS into our home. On Sundays, we will have our CBS Field
Service meeting in the house as well.
Posted by ManofTrueGod at 9:48 PM 0 comments
Manila-Lipa-Manila
Everywhere it's hot. Even in Lipa City. Racing to Lipa from Manila in 1.5
hours over traffic jam miles from the Calamba Toll Gate on a Saturday did
not help. And going back to Manila in 1.5 hours again driving through
funeral procession inside barangay Sampaguita i Lipa City and a traffic
crawl from Alabang to Sucat did not help either.
But, having lunch in Robinson's mall in Lipa at the Food Court helped. The
mall was full of people since the mall offers a 3-day sale. Kaso walang pera
so kain na lang.
Micmic with Sheba her cousin will stay there until next week when I return
to deliver a public talk to the Sampaguita congregation of Jehovah's
Witnesses.
Posted by ManofTrueGod at 9:42 PM 0 comments
Physical Pain
It has been 3 weeks now and my stiff neck has lingered on. The doctor has
diagnosed it as a sprain in my shoulder. Three sessions of physical therapy
(aka massage via ultrasound) did not fix it. So, balik ako sa doctor for
re-appraisal.
Meanwhile, dinagdagan naman ng mouth sores in my tongue and cheeks
and aking stiff neck. I can hardly talk.
Could this be the pain of growing old? Nah. Na-reduce lang seguro
resistance ko. Hopefully, my wife's new juicer will improve things. Every
night, lumalagok ako ng isang baso ng katas ng mga prutas at gulay.
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We'll see.
Posted by ManofTrueGod at 2:05 PM 0 comments
Never Again
Yes, never again, papa-schedule ako ng flight na 5 a.m. The limousine
service picked me up around 2.30 am. Kakatulog ko lang. I just completed
a proposal presentation for a customer in Cebu. Trying to get some
hopefully 4 hours of sleep. Instead, 2 hours. But, kahit duling, I went to the
airport. Tried to get some nap in the plane but gising na ako after 15 mins.
In Cebu, after taking some French toast and hot cocoa in Bo's Coffee shop
around 7 am, our business partner fetch us and we took a ride to another
coffee shop nearby our customer. I forgot the name of the coffee shop kasi
the cars parked there got my attention. Sports car na 2-seater na silver
Mercedes, some Odi, and I think a Jaguar. The coffee shop was filled with
Chinese Cebuanos.
I was able to take another 15 minute nap on our way there.
After the customer session, I had lunch at an Italian restaurant. Hmm,
can't remember this one again. Sounds like Le Tigalo. Anyway, duling na
talaga ako at this point just trying to hold a polite conversation with our
business partner. Mukhang zombie na ako despite washing my face.
At the airport, I couldn't believe myself na while looking at my Treo 650, I
doze off just like that. Now, if I were driving my Liteace Van on Manila's
busy street, that would have been dangerous. Snapping out of
consciousness involuntarily.
Sadly, the flight got delayed for the next half hour. I was flying PAL, first
time I got a delayed flight.
I finally came home and tried to get some sleep. Guess what? Ayaw
matulog ng sarili ko. Seguro kasi in the next hour I will be conducting our
CBS. Mabuti na lang because the material is so good, I was alive all
throughout.
And when I got back to bed? Kinakausap pa ako ng bunso ko I dozed off.
Posted by ManofTrueGod at 9:06 PM 0 comments
Cool Breeze
days of summer in the seamering heat
air is filled with dust, filling up your lungs
mixing with foul air and thick smog
impatient wheels and racing cars
horns that blow endlesslynowhere to go, nowhere to sit
even the shade offer no relief
bodies sweating in the sun
wet arm pits, stinking in the corner
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ManofTrueGod
Posted by ManofTrueGod at 8:01 PM 0 comments
Opening Salvo
life is a mix bag of thingsothers ask who put them there
others accept what's there
others complain why these
others just spilled everything out to the wind
but others look at others and compare
sadly time has moved on
unwisely spent
with a life spent so quickly
in wondering, figuring endlessly
i am here
that is good enough for me.
--- manoftruegod
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