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Kagabi, napanaginipan ko ang
Unang pagtatangka nating
Abutin ang langit. Tumatakbo

Tayo sa isang malawak na
Parang, tangan ang huling
Saranggolang iaalay natin sa
Panganorin ng tag-araw.

Doon, panginoon natin ang
Kalayaan, kaya  nilimot natin ang
Bilin ng mga nakatatanda.

Sabay nating

Tinaboy ang ambon,
Tinawag ang hangin,
Tinaas ang saranggolang

Huling saksi na ikaw ay umibig
Sa isang ako.

Kagabi, napanaginipan ko ang
Huling pagtatangka nating abutin
Ang langit. Wala na ang malawak

Na parang, naparam na ang
Bawat bakas ng ako na umibig
Sa isang ikaw...
Isn't it ironic?
How one can die while being completely alive?
Or
When the nights becomes days and the days becomes nights?
Or
What we can't see is supposed to be what we should see?

Surely, We live in a world with infinite possibilities.
One day you're here
   One day you're there
Sometimes this becomes that
   And that becomes this
But
We live in a world,
Where time slows as we lose the joy,
   the excitement of life.
And the moment we do get that joy,
   get that excitement
Time speeds up like a flash of lightning

And you can't do anything...
except to keep it as long lasting memories
hoping it won't vanish into thin air.

We live in a world where people steal from each other
      thinking they would get more
  thinking maybe this would be enough
      maybe this would be my everything
   maybe this is the answer to all

But it just won't be enough
    Because instead of creating,
    people are taking.
    Taking more than what they are able to make,
    or keep...

We live in a world where words exist, but are not lived out
  We promise, but never really keep them
Making promises that are kept Zero to None.
  Does that make promises nonexistent?
Or just not practiced at all.

We say "I love you"
  We know "I love you"
It's one of the most universal phrase that exists!
Yet most live their whole lives not knowing..
   Not feeling..
     Not completing...
Those very beautiful words.
  Words that is enough to resurrect the dead
    to give life to a dying individual.

But for me,
        for what I've seen.
The greatest irony of it all...
   Most walk through life like they have already died
      The minute they were born.
A poet is the cracked spine of your favorite novel. As you begin to peer inside, words fly out from every direction. Sentences you can't make out and phrases you can't even begin to recognize. His mind is a dusty dictionary of all sorts.

A poet resembles the tide that rises and falls just as your heartbeat does with every syllable he breathes out. Corals scrape your legs and fish nip at your feet yet you linger in the water.

A poet is a pastel picture frame. Amazing how 4 corners can freeze the sparkles in your eyes and the grin on your lips. Feelings do not last forever so we tend to keep anger, sadness, joy & love sealed in glass, sitting on our night stand.

His mind is a factory.
Gears & wheels working late night shifts, making sure all periods and commas are in place.

You see
Poets are
Tear jerkers
Risk takers
Shape shifters
and
Heart breakers
To be one day performed in sign language*

Perhaps
You could call it
Music—
A gentle guitar
Solo,
Or even a piercing
Voice clear
And high.

Silence is a song.

I know
And you do too.

Well,
Perhaps I don't
As much as you would.

There is a cadence
To the way
Our pens
Twist and turn
Like my grandfather's
Heyday.

There is an art
To the way
Your fingers
Seem to curve
At the slightest
Twitch
Of your lips.

Your body's language
Is like an evergreen
Dance—
Eyes, hands, feet wide
Open to the
Rhythms of the world.

And what a stunning
Beat it drums.
as i walk through this desert,
through this valley of shadow of death,
i'm keeping my head up,
i'm smiling through the bitterness
because i know this won't last forever
because one day i'll look back
from the mountaintop.
Lord, I cry out to you with a wrathful
heart.

I cry out with a heart of an anarchist
being shaped into a pacifist.

I want to put my fists through
the hearts of the oppressors.

I show them love.

I bleed onto my enemies.

I bleed for you.
Written in 10/14/2008
I found this poem in one of my old journals.  It was during my first year at a Methodist seminary after I had been part of an anarchist community in Cali.
 Oct 2014 Marge Redelicia
lulu
i aspire to inspire
you, little girl
to pour out your heart
and break the walls you've build

i write to ignite
that fire in you, little girl
to stand on your two feet
and dare to dream

i aspire to inspire
for you too, little boy
to see that you can be different
and to see that you are one of a kind

i write to ignite
that fire in you too, little boy
to reach out to that light
and not let the darkness get into you

i have hope for you, little ones
to be the strong soldiers
in this world we live in.
for you, and you, and you.
What is it with this generation of lost souls? Do you ever just sit and think, where did we lose the part that made us whole?
Somewhere along the way, hating love and loving hate became the forefront of everything we say.

Somehow it became the generation of kids who probably won't realize they're adults until, one day, they look in the mirror and see that they're 45, still in the same pair of designer jeans and expensive shoes they could barely even afford. And the only reason they bought them was to post a picture on instagram just to get false sense of validation from people they barely even know.

We lost sight of the importance of being an advocate of self.
When we have money, that's our only weath.
What about wealth in mind, body, spirit?
This generation would rather snort lines for an out of body experience.
How sad.
The generation that will laugh watching others cry, just to fit in.
What, exactly, are you trying to fit into?
What is it really, that prevents you from being in-tune?
Why the moon isn't as interesting as that little corner of doom in a messy room, while you have no desire to bloom.

I want so badly for this generation to be better, together.
To treat one another like sister and brother -
It's time for everyone to blow their cover.
Take off the mask, they're no longer needed.
Be the future, because we are. Become what you want to be seeded.
It's okay to cry or to ask for help. Put your pride aside, go inside to find that real wealth.
I challenge you to be better.
Look yourself In the mirror and surrender.
I wish you love and peace through all of your endeavors.

Love.
- L.G.
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