Archive for August, 2007

may nag-comment sa pag-apuhap

Posted in Uncategorized on August 31, 2007 by armedlittleboy

Comment niya: 

Pupuntahan kita sa kahapon mamaya.

Dahil doon lang naman kita siguradong makikita.

Dahil hindi mo na kayang pumasok sa ngayon at bukas.

Ang pag-ibig natin ay naglalakad paatras.

Bibilangin ko muna ang bawat hakbang palayo.

Hanggang makarating ka sa isang pook sa aking puso.

Sa lugar kung saan pareho na tayong nakangiti.

Tatlong linggo bago nang ang tayo’y nasawi.

Bibigkasin mong muli ang mga matatamis na salita.

At sa bukas mong palad ako’y mahihiga.

Sasabihin sa sariling hindi ka naman talaga nawala.

Hanggang makabalik tayo sa simula.

Isang hakbang pa at hindi na tayo nagkakilala.

At sa wakas ay malilimot din kita.

Magkita man tayo paglaon ng panahon,

Hindi na kita maaabutan mula dito sa kahapon.

Mapupuntahan mo na lang ako sa kahapon mamaya.

Dahil doon mo na lang ako makikita.

Hindi na ako papasok sa ngayon at bukas.

Ang pag-ibig natin ay umuwi na sa wakas.

innocent bystander – August 30th, 2007 at 11:08 pm

Where are your dreams?

Posted in Uncategorized on August 29, 2007 by armedlittleboy

When I was in nursery I dreamed to be a doctor. I dont know why. Maybe because I felt doctors save lives.

 When I was in kindergarten I dreamed to be a teacher. I desire to mold minds and direct them to a bright future.

 When I was in elementary I dreamed to be a scientist and invent a robot that would eat garbage. I longed to help the environment.

When I was in high school I dreamed to be a psychologist. I crave to understand people and thus give them a hand in  dealing better with life.

When  I was in college I dreamed to be a full-time activist. I was determined to change the world and help in bringing forth social justice.

Now five years after obtaining my college degree and a thesis-short of my Master’s, I’m involved in research. Not the lets-discover- a – cure-for- cancer research nor a how-can-we-best-empower-people research but a how-can-we-best-sell-a-product type of research. Basically I am trying to figure out how to make consumers buy more cigarettes, gargle more mouthwash, use more detergent, and swallow more vitamins.

If dreaming is like traveling I would have accumulated enough miles to get me a free round trip ticket to Uranus. I am so far from my dreams that I dont even know how it feels to fully submit myself to something I really want and believe in.

I wonder: When does dreaming end?

When do we let go of our dreams and start settling for what we already have?

When does reality start to intrude upon our grand plans?

Its a pity that most of us get distracted, fooled even, by temporary highs and fleeting pleasures. Most of us would try to buy happiness and shop for smiles. While others would even try to convince themselves that they really like what they are doing.

But it is certain that there would be times when our dreams would peek out from some forgotten part of ourselves, reminding us that we once aspired for a life where distractions are not needed and smiles are not purchased. And during these times we would be left wondering why we gave up on our dreams so easily. Why we turned back on it without a fight.

fragments

Posted in Uncategorized on August 26, 2007 by armedlittleboy

1. im single

but im not searching

im just sitting here, idly watching people pass by

some holding hands, others holding grudges

maybe someone would plop beside me and hug me

but im not holding my breath for that

i stopped looking for the hand to hold a long way back in time

and its somehow freeing not to join the fray of single people trying to find a match

im exerting zero effort to be attached and it suits me well

2. im tired of hurting people

and im tired of getting hurt too

the principle of karma works so fast for me I cannot help but learn its lessons well

every rejection slip i hand out transforms into a boomerang that hits me on the head (or the heart)

its a hopeless cycle

a lot like riding the broken hearts carousel

around and around we go hurting each other

we better get off before we get numbed

3. its so fast

i dont know why there is a need to rush

but most often do

the hellos transform to commitments in a span of a night

which easily die like embers under the morning rain

when would we realize that

glances are not declarations

smiles are not commitments

and kisses are not testaments to a lasting love

pag-apuhap

Posted in poetry, Uncategorized on August 17, 2007 by armedlittleboy

Tumakas kanina ang mga kataga sa aking kamalayan,
Dahan-dahang humakbang papalayo sa aking ulirat,

At isa-isang dumausdos sa pasilyo ng ating kahapon;

Naglaho silang parang mga tala sa sikat ng araw
Naroroon ngunit di maaninag
Tinatanaw ngunit di masipat;
Kung sakaling bang maapuhap ko muli
ang mga kataga ng ating kahapon
at ialay sa iyo ang bawat porma at agos,
maigi mo ba itong itatago ng di na muling maglaho?
Aamin ako sa pakawalang paghawak sa mga ito,
Sa mabuway na pagsasalansan sa mga pangako,
At sa pagsasawalang bahala sa iyong pagsusumamo
Sapagkat hindi ko inasahan na darating ang panahon
Na ako naman ang magwiwika ng iyong mga salita
Na ako na ang mag-aalay ng mga kataga ng paghimok
At sa aking pandama mamamahay ang iyong mga damdamin.

Sa ganitong panahon na kung saan ako ang nagsusumamo
Bibigkisin mo ba muli ang ating kahapon
Upang maaninag ang pagsuyong sa atin ay gumapos?
Naririto ako at nagwiwika ng iyong mga salita,
Bibigyan mo ba ng puwang ang ating gunita?

on with the struggle

Posted in Uncategorized on August 8, 2007 by armedlittleboy

The Revolution Will Not Be Televised

By Gil Scott-Heron

You will not be able to stay home, brother.
You will not be able to plug in, turn on and cop out.
You will not be able to lose yourself on skag
and Skip out for beer during commercials,
Because the revolution will not be televised.
The revolution will not be televised.
The revolution will not be brought to you by Xerox
In 4 parts without commercial interruptions.
The revolution will not show you pictures of Nixon
blowing a bugle and leading a charge by John
Mitchell, General Abrams and Spiro Agnew to eat
hog maws confiscated from a Harlem sanctuary.
The revolution will not be televised.
The revolution will not be brought to you by the
Schaefer Award Theatre and will not star Natalie
Woods and Steve McQueen or Bullwinkle and Julia.
The revolution will not give your mouth sex appeal.
The revolution will not get rid of the nubs.
The revolution will not make you look five pounds
thinner, because the revolution will not be televised, Brother.

There will be no pictures of you and Willie May
pushing that shopping cart down the block on the dead run,
or trying to slide that color television into a stolen ambulance.
NBC will not be able predict the winner at 8:32
or report from 29 districts.
The revolution will not be televised.

There will be no pictures of pigs shooting down
brothers in the instant replay.
There will be no pictures of pigs shooting down
brothers in the instant replay.
There will be no pictures of Whitney Young being
run out of Harlem on a rail with a brand new process.
There will be no slow motion or still life of Roy
Wilkens strolling through Watts in a Red, Black and
Green liberation jumpsuit that he had been saving
For just the proper occasion.

Green Acres, The Beverly Hillbillies, and Hooterville
Junction will no longer be so damned relevant, and
women will not care if Dick finally gets down with
Jane on Search for Tomorrow because Black people
will be in the street looking for a brighter day.
The revolution will not be televised.

There will be no highlights on the eleven o’clock
news and no pictures of hairy armed women
liberationists and Jackie Onassis blowing her nose.
The theme song will not be written by Jim Webb,
Francis Scott Key, nor sung by Glen Campbell, Tom
Jones, Johnny Cash, Englebert Humperdink, or the Rare Earth.
The revolution will not be televised.

The revolution will not be right back
after a message about a white tornado, white lightning, or white people.
You will not have to worry about a dove in your
bedroom, the tiger in your tank, or the giant in your toilet bowl.
The revolution will not go better with Coke.
The revolution will not fight the germs that may cause bad breath.
The revolution will put you in the driver’s seat.

The revolution will not be televised, will not be televised,
will not be televised, will not be televised.
The revolution will be no re-run brothers;
The revolution
will be live.

the visit

Posted in Uncategorized on August 8, 2007 by armedlittleboy

The day after,
The weather wears her most appropriate suit
Properly clad in a black dress and stilettos
Dark clouds on her ears
A lightning on her lapel
Roars of thunder dangling from her wrist;
She purposefully strode to my door,
Knocked once,
And entered without preamble.
I looked at her straight in the eye
Blurry but distinct.
This is it, she said
This is the worst you will be given,
Come sit and weep with me.
 

alone

Posted in Uncategorized on August 7, 2007 by armedlittleboy

the fear of being alone is more prevalent than we think

not just in the sense of being alone in life

but also in being alone in a moment

there is a tendency for people to run away from solitude

no one purchases a single movie ticket

no one eats by himself in a restaurant

no one parties alone

there is a certain trepidition in stepping out into the world without anchoring ourselves to others

its as if by venturing out alone we would realize, like a sudden gust of wind against our face, that we really are alone

that our attempts in surrounding ourselves with other people

the texting and calling to remind them that we still exists

the photos and the letters we keep as  symbols of our connection with others

are but futile attempts to distract us from the truth

that we are alone and will remain alone

and it is only by realizing this  that we will be able to fully experience others

a non-grasping, non-obsessive, non-possesive, non-claustrophobic relationship

where each one fully knowing of his/her isolation

accepting it

and living with it with them.

 people in bubbles touching each others’ hands.