Credits

Gabriel's Oboe

Ennio Morricone

 

Chevaliers de Sangreal

Hans Zimmer

Katay tayo diyan

Uubo-oboe

 

Hunger

Tight, the grip deep within, nurtured by years of solitude
counting to the swill's ending hour
Slash that vision of chill amidst arid threaded landscape

A whisper beckons beating, come out of the dark
to then march on thundering hooves

Journey home now
Aquilo blows
the tides call

Spread, the ancient bud was invited
welcome by embrace, emerge as garden
Let go swatted limb, overlook the mountain
from its upturned shoulder

Wait for the arc's return, as remaining still
Untouched

and be

blessed to exhale

Negative people see only the mistakes of others and treat these errors as if they are personal faults against themselves. Meanwhile, they cannot see the real efforts exerted and never give credit for all the right things others were actually able to do.

They find something wrong or something to criticize in almost everything but do not know how to give encouragement nor praise. They will rather watch others fail than  give proper guidance or practical advice.

They cannot differentiate between a temporary inconvenience and a real problem. They exagerrate the importance of the smallest details if these do not conform to their views or desires. In their own points of view they are perfectionist but in reality they are just being petty putting meaning and even malice in the most trivial matters.

Above all they do not see themselves as negative persons and will never admit to it. 

-Bienne d'Assousy

Mirage

I felt so real, It was real. Yet, only for me.

I should have asked

Ligaw

I study the landscape's many turns and blind corners.  
There is no way to measure my steps -they will never be calculated.

No road signs and no maps. 
Clearly, the path to take cannot be plotted alone. 

I take in the scenery.  
Nothing known to my eyes.  
I listen.  
Towards where does the North wind blow?

I scour the night sky and consult the stars.  

There in the heavens is written your name.

Venture blindly or on instinct? The unknown terrifies me. 

I freeze.

I close my eyes

I listen

February 1, 2010 Horoscope?

... are not in our hands.

search within your heart
through the bottom of your soul.  

answers,
instantly,
gleaned.

none to reap. 

butterflies  picked of their wings
a mute banshee listens
as a black swan sings.

the candle I light for you

this candle is not
from a barely known friend

it is not from a son to his father

but from the father for his son
to light the home of darkness
wherein the son was left behind

and in this gesture ...
let me act but once
in his stead



for a friend and his father.

Reposted for Alan Yap and Alan Yap Jr.


For lack of words right now

Proverbs 17:17

10/1/2016


Reposted for The Family of Melencio C. Dionisio Jr:
Wife,Bing; daughters Noemi, Yga, Isay; son, Melvin and grandchildren Tricia, Buboy, Gab and Cathy and to all his grieving relative and friends

7/22/2015

Reposted for The Family of Regino Fernandez:
sons, daughters and grand children and to all his grieving friends
7/15/2012

Reposted for Choi Gamboa

11/20/2013

A man would try to walk in his father's footsteps

It could be that, a woman, in her mother's

our fathers might have tried to try both

as would too, our mothers

therefore we walk the path of our ancestors

and thus they will go ahead of us

always guiding

though time would heal old wounds do not fear of letting go of your father

it will never mean loving him less only favoring what life dictates

that is, for us to keep taking their steps further and onward

Reposted for John Carlo Rojo

11/26/11 1:04 am PDT

10:27 AM

new reposting for the memory of

Martin Felix Purificacion

and for Jochen


Original posting
3/28/06

Multi-Dimensional Tango

traversed across currents of void

through white wilderness

past lit shadows

halfway

amidst celestial relics

chasing one's claimed Sant'Ermo

every step to a chosen destiny

balanced

undone

dictated whims of polarized equations

summation of dispersed truths

each advance, countered

space leaps in a mirror

and the comet rounds its path

on time

the meaningless measure

stillness

awaiting the embrace of that solar wind

that will efface the being

11/26/10