Samurai

Ohayo!

in the profusion of
of red, white and pink fake flowers
winding in garlands that slope
to the groundlands

what need is there for the pale and shocking
pink ribbons?
and what of the blues

what were the colors of the masks that
glitter on the yellowed wall?
were there just three?

and the silence that screams
and prayers for us to be alone

will you lay in my arms tonight without the
colorful coverings on our faces?

061308
1:31 am

When the Time Comes

To my son Joshua for when you are fifteen…

Dear son,

I have no idea now where you can be nor will be. I do not know what kind of life you are now living. This has not been my choice. It has never been. All I know is that I did my best as a father. I’ve tried all that I can be for you. I’ve tried to reach the stars and give them to you, yet, limitations of reality bounds me to strive only for the material so that I Can provide you well. I hope that I have at least accomplished even a small fraction of my dream of what I wanted and want to give you.

From the day that I first saw you, bloody, fragile and very, very beautiful, I cried my heart out. There flowed tears of complete happiness. Then there were tears of terror as to what I Can offer my son. I feared that I’ll never be worthy of a blessing such as you. ‘Til now the nurses in LBDH remembers me as the father who cried and cried when he saw his son. I take pride in that. Anak, kahit magpahid lang ng tae mo masaya ako noon. Ako ang unang nakagawa noon. Nagpalit ng unang diapers at lampin. Kumarga at maghele. Mahal kita anak. Kahit hindi mo namatatandaan yun, nakatanim sa puso ko ang kaligayahan na di na maalis o maakin ng iba.

Jonathan Livingston Seagull

The Flight

Among the other feathered wings still unruffled Jonathan soared and dove. What can I really teach this one so young?

Can I lend him my thoughts, my insights with the emptying of my mind? Would I let him into my world

or words that seem all to be meaningless.

So I watched as he does what he loved

and still loves doing so much, him knowing not

what and how much this world has to offer.

He ran around chasing the arcing and flying sphere.

I sit still, yet, all the while

I am just beside him: move for move, spike , lift, volley and dive.

How he went rocketing to the unattainable limit

he imposed for himself.

He fought and conquered the impossible net 

that thwart all that come so close

How long can I retain this image in the memory of my eyes

this vision of blue and white

blurred by this fast paced life?

In my heart I, now, have this photograph

Engraved forever

Univ. of Baguio 5:00 pm - 8:00pm

Rumours 10:00 pm

Amistad 9:00 am

May 12 - 13, 2008

Bienne d’Assousy

The Wolf

The Lacrymosa of Remus

It was on that winter that he died, on that winter of the snake. The wolf finally casted him into the silence that he himself could never create. A life of silence and an end to his first silence. When was it that he ceased to utter another diatribe, another soliloquy, another word? It was that voiceless throat that gutturally and raspingly released a final breath from its gaping rip. It was that wordless tongue that in the end curled back into the cavern beyond the back of the mouth.

Grotesque and malformed was the countenance of that olden mishap when the unending night descended upon him. Ashen was the face in the drab glow of a solitary ray of the serpent moon, lips stretched full up and out, each in a twist counter to the other. Still now are the former silver double tipped tongue, slivered as it had into the recesses of its last refuge. A bite for all the bites inflicted. A slash for all the lashes unfurled and hurled. Sulfuric was the smell of the breeze as it invaded the flaming nostrils. The hungry smoldering eyes unequaled by the amber evil moon. The sweetish smell of sweat wet fur gratingly plagued the evening air. The dreadful breath of death is all around in a stall.

bipolar conference

bienne: he was just a youngling that's why he could not be let to die

ben: i'm still here why could it not just have been me?

victor: nor I?

'teng: we have all already been through the pyres' temper

mid: and joey had not been of our breed. he had been brought to existence without birth nor death. ben, you're also one who had not been allowed to die...

ben: that is why I would for all the world's sake, take fenris' place as I gave Hela's rise by my incapability to die

'teng: nasa mas mabuting kalagayan na si fen ngayon, babangon din siya sa pagkakahimlay.

mid: as phoen, in his due time and with his own fire and within his own realm. you are not just a reed that bends to the blowing of the wind or to the rush of the floods.

bienne: ben, you must know, now, that you are set against each other. You and Phoen.

When he rises it would then be the time to give rebirth to yourself.

ben: for him? for Fenris? lay an egg for him. Like on Easter?

'teng: No! For us... mula siya sa kamunduhan.

In the celestial realm he shall remain now. all this shit is scaring me.

The lashings to fate and the tidings of time? where did those come from?

mid: I know, it's both a gift and a curse.

It just drops form nowhere like that.

I just call it a dawning.

victor: time for me to be thankful to be earth bound, i guess?

can't get to call it enlightenment too, mid?

bienne: cold drakes breathe out no flames.

yet, as sturdy as all of them Vic.

I am the weakest here.

Unlike Vince, we can only see when we close our eyes.

mid: Yet, the most gifted you are Bienne, never ever forget. You have already gotten to reach all three realms and you are never blinded by the light. You just choose to be.

bienne: I fail mostly. - in my missions.

mid: No. No, not at all. You just do not realize that you have always had the most strength.

Nor what you have accomplished...

teng: I'm to take your place for the time being, Bienne, needless to say ...

bienne: para sa'yo, i'll talk the way you talk.

tol, maraming salamat sa pasintabi. oo alam ko pero nakakatakot pa rin.

mahirap itulog ang puso. masakit patulugin ang puso. Bahala ka na sa kan'la 'teng.

Vic, it's just the same, the knowing i mean. They come both from the light and the dark. you too have a gift. as material and earth bound as it seem to be. elemental is a good word for you to look up for when its my time to fall...

mid: paaalaman na muna bienne.

I was given rise in Astral Bldg., how apt and quaint I guess

bienne: ah my telex and answering machine then....

'teng: tang'na nyo email wala?

bienne: joey has one, aside from him....

'teng: SMS this stupid fucker then. Just keep in touch...please...

I'll lose my sanity without you...

bienne: but you already know all you have and need to know.

I'll keep in touch, though, do not fuss.

'teng: sounding like us again puss...

I love you.

bienne: thanks for saying that, kahit alam ko na.

in time 'teng. in time. you'll understand.

mid: all three realms are hereby represented.

pardon and excuse my proceeding

I hold the middle ground only for so long

victor: so thus the body gives in unto tonight.

mid: the soul and mind thus alike

'teng: from the ephemeral ethereal we take flight

jorms: in my astral form let my flames all alight

joey: in the celestine hall, Bienne, I commend you to shine and be bright

vince: hence i thus end the night.

[the flames rose and consumed all seven]

tbc.

Who the Hell am I?

I was trying to trim them off so that I could look nice for you

I was smiling as I snipped bit by bit. The shearing got rather out of hand

You laughingly stated that I look like a baby

Sheepishly giggling as I knew that it did look rather silly

Frying an egg to go with the French toast I wanted you to have

to sooth your acid-filled stomach

I wanted mine greasy so I poured on the pan cups and cups of

liquefied pork fat. How it sizzled on its down pour

on my thigh as a heavy wrist brushed the handle

I opened a can of spread with a knife and used too much force.

My blue skull rag was drenched as I staunch

the spilling insignificant measures of my life essences

I slept pressing fore and middle fingers against palm

Jason mopped up the trickles and dribbles the next day

After being reassured that I still can and would soon rise from my bed

On the toaster remained five pieces charcoaled cheese breads

I didn’t mean it damned it!

I already I already told you my apologies a dozen times

and please I’ve told you that I do not remember!

I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to yell. Please stop crying, my love

I got hit hard on the temple side of my head

and I fell unconscious on the pavement

I came to and I answered the chocolate men in the white tiled hall

I did not know who started what, It does not really matter

Still, they handed me a signed medico-legal paper

I hooked my knees on his neck pulling, to bring him slamming

down the nugget-graveled dirt road

I stomped on his trunk, below above, by the sides

Then stood on his chest as I clomped down hard.

How could his friends stop me when they were reeling on the ground

It was a very fun-filled night until they came to lewdly rubbing elbows

On babes smooth, smooth silken uncovered back

The flipside of a bump and grind would be my jump and ride

Fists became five pointed daggers discovering the lumps on throats

I know where I am. There were five of them

I was alone so how can it be my fault?

What started it all you say? I scanned and scanned the past hard

I was thirteen then and holding on to this very cold amber bottle

ben for ben

Coming across on the first encounter

There in the glacial part of my freezer

A red bag full of frigid solidity

A reminder of a smile of a favorable

and fortunate time

Another image, shocking red pants

And a scarfed neckline

of a face and cool,cool smile that catch

a thousand younglings

What does bring him here

an adventure perhaps, or a meeting of old minds

I ventured unto their table

A cold sneer and an even icy greeting

This face, persona and being

Can capture and break a myriad of faces

and of a manifold melting hearts

In the end I hope and pray that not one of them

Not one of them belongs to his own

here now
june 08

pikit mata

Sa pag hati ng gabi, sa kabilang dako ng tagong buwan

Sa g’ayon bumubuhaghag ang liwanag ng kristalang sinag ng luha

Noon, bumabaha ang pag-ibig na kumakawala’t nagwawala

Nawawala ang sangkasarilinan sa bigkis ng tadahanang manhid

Ano p’ang silbi ng mga palamuting tala kung sila’y tatalima’t

Maghahayag ng pabugso-bugsong kislap kapag ang haring araw ay

Pumanaog na mula sa kaharian ng mga ulan at mapagkubling hamog at ulap

Saan ang kapararakan hantungang landas ng kaluluwang lagalag

Anong kahinatnan ng nanginginig sa basang ilado na kalamnan.

‘Sang handog na nakangising pag-aaruga, pangungulila’t pang-aasam

Sa na ngayo’y nagmimistulang lang na ‘sang pagaala-alang gunita

Ikalawa ng Pebrero Dos Mil Otso Anyo

Mahahagkan pa ba ng iyong mga mata ang pait ng mugto kong

Dilang ubod talim na sadyang kalalimang sa talas at tabas

Magtatampisaw ba ang iyong mga paa sa lalim ng kaalatan

Ng dagat-dagatan at talampas kong’ luha, sa kanilang agos at baha

San lumiko ang batis ng iyong ngiti at pagbati

bakit ni wala nang ‘sa man lang gapatak na halakhak

Kanino na ngayon manunuluyan ang puso kong

nagsisinungaling at mapagtago

para sa kahapon

para sa bukang liwayway bukas

ily

vicente katipunan sanchez

martsa marso

When I was Asleep

I was trying to trim them off so that I could look nice for you

I was smiling as I snipped bit by bit. The shearing got rather out of hand

You laughingly stated that I look like a baby

Sheepishly giggling as I knew that it did look rather silly

~~~~~~~~~~~~

Frying an egg to go with the French toast I wanted you to have

to sooth your acid-filled stomach

I wanted mine greasy so I poured on the pan cups and cups of

liquefied pork fat. How it sizzled on its down pour

on my thigh as a heavy wrist brushed the handle

~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Oh I didn’t realize I was asleep.

You thought I was dead, haha

Can’t blame you, seeing some lying on the pavement I mean

~~~~~~~~~~~~~

I opened a can of spread with a knife and used too much force.

My blue skull rag was drenched as I staunch

the spilling insignificant measures of my life essences

I slept pressing fore and middle fingers against palm

Jason mopped up the trickles and dribbles the next day

After being reassured that I still can and would soon rise from my bed

On the toaster remained five pieces charcoaled cheese breads

~~~~~~~~~~~~~

I didn’t mean it damned it!

I already…. I already told you my apologies a dozen times

and please I’ve told you that I do not remember!

~~~~~~~~~~~~~

I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to yell. Please stop crying my love

I was not going to hurt you

~~~~~~~~~~~~~

I got hit hard on the head and I fell unconscious on the pavement

I came to and I answered the chocolate men in the white tiled hall

I did not know who started what, It does not really matter

Still, they handed me a signed medico-legal paper

~~~~~~~~~~~~~

I hooked my knees on his neck pulling, to bring him slamming

down the nugget-graveled dirt road

I stomped on his trunk, below above, by the sides

Then stood on his chest as I clomped down hard.

How could his friends stop me when they were reeling on the ground

~~~~~~~~~~~~~

It was a very fun-filled night until they came to, lewdly rubbing elbows

On babe’s smooth, smooth silken uncovered back

The flipside of a bump and grind would be my jump and ride

Fists became five pointed daggers discovering the lumps on throats

~~~~~~~~~~~~

I know where I am. There were five of them

I was alone so how can it be my fault, Or were there six?

What started it all, you say? I scanned and scanned the past hard

~~~~~~~~~~~~

I was thirteen then and holding on to this very cold amber bottle

The Litany of the Triumseptavirate

All of us are one, all of us are in a coven

Left behind will be not a single brethren

All of us three, one, all of us three, seven.

All of us in numbers odd, then all of us even

All of us are one, all of us are in a coven

Left behind will be not a single brethren

All of us three, one, all of us three, seven.

All of us in numbers odd, then all of us even

Under the ailing tree, all of us, seven, three

Beneath the steps all three the same must be

Below the heavens all the seven shall be me

Gathered in the mountain they scatter free

In the nooks and crags the seven do not hide

But in the valley they forged and now divide

By brooks, hooks and snags the three do not flee

As the seven protect and know as they can see

From the stars they seek now not a lighted guide

By the moonbeam stream they float, swim and glide

All of us three, all of us seven, none has ever gone

In the tear of this candle all three, all seven, none

The sun has not set but into hiding, what has it done

Scour flame to flame, yet, this solitary candle

will be ignited

only by

one

All ways, all of us just one brethren

Left behind will be none of us seven

All of us seven, one, all of us seven, three.

If in numbers called, we shall be bound to thee

Beneath the gaunt tree, all of us, seven, one

on the steps all three shall conquer destiny

By the heavens’ stars the seven rest in trinity

Chained to bear mountains they climb alee

By books and flags the seven do not abide

But by the volley shot force they now preside

Before jabs, hooks and swags we never ever flee

As the three guard and shield all they oversee

From the stars they seek now not a source of lies

But the moonbeam stream they use now as their guise

All of us seven, all of us three, what has ever done

In tiered tear of this candle all seven, all three, one

The sun has set, now not blinding, where has it gone

Blend wind to flame for this solitary candle

will be kept ablazed

only by

one


All of us are one, all of us are in a coven
Left behind will be not a single brethren

All of us three, one, all of us three, seven.
All of us in numbers odd, then all of us even

All of us are one, all of us are in a coven
Left behind will be not a single brethren

All of us three, one, all of us three, seven.
All of us in numbers odd, then all of us even

Under the ailing tree, all of us, seven, three
Beneath the steps all three the same must be
Below the heavens all the seven shall be me
Gathered in the mountain they scatter free

In the nooks and crags the seven do not hide
But in the valley they forged and now divide

By brooks, hooks and snags the three do not flee
As the seven protect and know as they can see

From the stars they seek now not a lighted guide
By the moonbeam stream they float, swim and glide

All of us three, all of us seven, none has ever gone
In the tear of this candle all three, all seven, none

The sun has not set but into hiding, what has it done
Scour flame to flame, yet, this solitary candle
will be ignited
only by

one

All ways, all of us just one brethren
Left behind will be none of us seven

All of us seven, one, all of us seven, three.
If in numbers called, we shall be bound to thee

Beneath the gaunt tree, all of us, seven, one
on the steps all three shall conquer destiny
By the heavens’ stars the seven rest in trinity
Chained to bear mountains they climb alee

By books and flags the seven do not abide
But by the volley shot force they now preside

Before jabs, hooks and swags we never ever flee
As the three guard and shield all they oversee

From the stars they seek now not a source of lies
But the moonbeam stream they use now as their guise

All of us seven, all of us three, what has ever done
In tiered tear of this candle all seven, all three, one

The sun has set, now not blinding, where has it gone
Blend wind to flame for this solitary candle
will be kept ablazed
only by

one

my received blessing and my released curse

reign of rain : a vison last January

Reign of Rain: There had been no blood

Standing about three meters in front of each other, on a hill. The powder blue season curtained suddenly by a silver grey cape. The first drizzle plummeted like comets. The rain, an armada of diamonds in the shape of elongated leaves.

The rain fell on everything but touched only the one that I was facing. Steadily the heavens poured light to dense. All the ones were replaced by fifteens and tens.

The shards fell on him, lacerating, peeling skin.

The shards fell on him, sharply, from out to in

Flesh had been bared as flesh had been let loose.

My eyes could not believe the vision

to which they have been introduced.

My right hand I did my most to outstretch

To that wretched suffering that I must suppress

Then my hand to the shards disintegrated

and into a million pulps turned and fled

Again with the left one now I tried to extend

to morsels it changed then both began to mend

Barred by barriers untouchable, unseen and unbeknownst

I close my eyes to the God to whom that this torture belongs

A bold flash of cold blasted my senses to hold

Unto the darkness my sight, shaken, began to fold

Unbearable agony my heart had in its throbbing.

In intolerable misery’s fire my soul now perish.

My inflamed mind its grasp falling to its ending.

The rain fell on everything except the one that he is facing. Steadily the heaven exhaled from impudence to hostile gentility. Everything in the valley, hence, crumpled in solidarity.

Flesh had been marred as flesh had been barbed.

The eyes could not retain the vision

They once in a lifelong ago singled out hard

His right hand dangled as it reached out limp

Irreparable damage to one torn limb to limb

looking back to tomorrow

I am now looking at a photograph. One that had been taken in sepia, an ancient street with the moonlight downed low, with the shine of the lampposts humming the song of that night.

A memory of an invitation.

A memory of a blue wedding.

A shimmering gown and tear drop pearls with the color of water

veil my vision as remembrances of concealed joy and excitement fill my thoughts of this past.

As my fingers touch the images I see, I see my heart’s smile warmly.

As if just the second ago had been what I have in my grasp now.

I trace the lines of the streets as if tracing lines of the Great Book of my Life.

The cobblestones, the jagged edges bordering hurtful memories, the gem-yellow street photographed, a golden road still to be paved and tread.

In harsher light, the high curb streaks like a highway burning in the sun.

Its color, that of a Diana burnished by an angry Apollo.

It is the walkway where my bared feet had left their steps.

A brilliant arc that had not even been caught by half, reminiscent of half-hid rainbows.

Blaring bulbs, a choreographed line of dances in a procession, one by one by one.

Another set of arcs matched the open smile with the arched eyebrows.

What would have the ancient stone walls have said

had they heard my whispered confessions then…

would the lenses show what I breathed out as I hid behind them?

Haling the winds as walls were scoured.

Another photograph momentarily comes to mind of a man barred behind bars.

Head pressed between steel and steel.

Hands grasping metal on each side.

The face laughing unto the other side, to the very dear life that he wished was his.

How many memories can one single captured image hold, a million lifetimes worth may be. In light, of this light I begin to realize that where I had been born anew was in the port of the saint named after the light. Tears run from a renewed trickle. I have for sometime been hurting from remembering having buried myself in darkness. Yet, I now know that I have again surfaced. That again I am bathed in blaring white glow of a memory that away will never again go.

~~~

Numerous other dream-like visions are kept in compartments within the heart of a chest.

They too hold and keep their prayers.

They too will again emerge and unfold whenever I look back, and when I, again and again

look into tomorrow.

vincent

D’Kamalig II

The cherry trees shake

A sea of anonymous people laugh

and deride at the figure whose

painted face had been made up

for our laughter, our enjoyment

and momentary joy

Is that a man, now, that shed his former self

or is it the other way around?

As he knows interest oozes from his inside

and lust slithers towards his makeshift stage

I met and approached someone I knew by recognition

Then again met another familiar face

to whom I have introduced my buddy and companion

I need to find another alternative to the word friend.

For Ben and Donna

Here, Now

I just knew them for a bit of time, then again, I never got to know them

I mean. I never really knew these Baguio people well who referred me as a friend

From: ßεη

D’Kamalig

Though the sun was smiling the moon droops

across a sea of crying stars

Red lights spin as cyclone scattered debris

And here I am

in a corner

by the bar, then centered

just another one adrift in the midst

of this new old world

Yet, I smile

And then I am truly, really happy

As you always

have been

and will be again when you are

once again, under his wings

Here, Now

For the Seagull that aimed to soar high

Midgard

5/13

April 13, 2007

The secret of jorms and midgard

You would know the secret of death.

But how shall you find it unless you seek it in the heart of life? The owl whose night-bound eyes are blind unto the day, cannot unveil the mystery of light.

If you would indeed behold the spirit of death, open your heart wide unto the body of life. For life and death are one, even as the river and the sea are one.

In the depth of your hopes and desires lies your silent knowledge of the beyond; and like seeds dreaming beneath the snow your heart dreams of spring. Trust the dreams, for in them is hidden the gate to eternity.

Your fear of death is but the trembling of the shepherd when he stands before the king whose hand is to be laid upon him in honor. Is the shepherd not joyful beneath his trembling, that he shall wear the mark of the king? Yet, is he not more mindful of his trembling.

For what is it to die but to stand naked in the wind and to melt into the sun?

And what is it to cease breathing, but to free the breath from its restless tides, that may rise and expand and seek GOD unencumbered?

Only when you drink from the river of silence shall you indeed sing. And when you have reached the mountain top, then you shall begin to climb.

And when the earth shall claim your limbs, then shall you truly dance.

The Prophet

Kahil Gibran

1883-1931

Air on a G string

added 7/8/2011