The Poetic Architect

The Poetic Architect Apr 2018

041118

If life is a journey, would you waste a lifetime?
Sometimes you wonder
Why the journey is much harder than the test itself
But instead of chaining yourself into doubt,
A voice says, “Your free in My arms.”

If life is reliant on Truth, would you trust your own?
And if progress is instant, would you value the process?
Or rather easily change your mind and say,
“This is not what I prayed for.”

When wisdom comes, it’s never by your own
When you grasp for strength but fail to hold on.
Even in your might, hope is still tight
But mercy comes in a white and silky cloak
Where there’re tears in Sky’s eyes.

Sometimes, you don't need to ask God to move the mountains for you;
But ask yourself, “Am I seeking righteousness in God
Or simply zip into pockets the whole Truth?”

Ask God for strength to intervene in your weaknesses
Ask God’s wisdom to overpower your understanding
Ask God to do the only thing He can do
And there, you'll remember God’s promises to You.

“On the mountain of the Lord, it will be provided.” - Genesis 22:14

The Poetic Architect Apr 2018

It Doesn’t Matter (No Pharaoh Does Matter)

041018

It doesn’t matter —
What other people can do,
What the world may offer,
And what the enemy can give as a deception.

Things we can count by hand don’t count as remainders
But learning to surrender what we grasp and hold on to for so long,
It does matter to God —
A beautiful exchange!

More than gifts and possessions,
More than our very own expectations
More than talents we ought to secure,
More than the strength that capable us

To move mountains and to climb another one —
In the midst of every desperation,
Still, the Giver Himself
He’s the One thing to remain.

At times we found a man not secured
Beneath the mirrors ever breaking in his façade
We see tears splintered into ashes and gray
He has no hope and his hands lack strength —
And so as we’ve sought, we are that man in the mirror.

On the other side of the vast galaxy
We saw the greatest picture the world has ever boast
And where every crippled foot and raised hands land,
There’s that Man who made His body a bread
And there, we drink as His body was raised.

The Poetic Architect Apr 2018

To the Homeless Home

It was as fast as the northern leaves falling
Along with the winter breeze
The window was at a high altitude
And I can smell the crispiness of the coffee bean.

It was another strange coffee break
At first, I thought the clouds hindered me
From seeing you
But they're so soft and smooth to the touch --
Touched by the very eyes of fierce look.

I saw green pastures everywhere
As if it has never experienced any famine
As if the clouds are always present
To boast out their shades
And there I knew, that we were almost there.

There were no drops that lingered on the waters
Like debris or ashes of the ones who first got their defaults
It was a loss to their existence
That they rathered ****** themselves
And there was the loss of words
As they shuttered their doors and windows.

I foresee the upcoming thought
That this iron barrier shall set me free
From any fear that arises from within
Whenever I think that I'm about to fall
But to sail was never a choice to be made
In these lateral movements that were never in shell
He that rescuing the cry,
The hunger has died
And death itself was known to its end.

I felt my feet having wrinkles from waiting
And my ears heard murmurs of tiredness of being
My mouth was shut, never devoured by any words
Nor any mischiefs
For once I thought,
I was there
But I'm ready to leave with no second thought.

The Poetic Architect Mar 2018

I Began to Die

031518

I began to die
As the birds grant melody towards the vast galaxy
I began to learn that things like UFOs aren't real.

I began to die
The clouds shove regrets and stir out their spirit
Upon the loamy creatures called humankind
And the breath was at that degree
That there're no longer voices in their psyche.

I began to die
And chant in my dreams
As if my heart sought for visible schemes --
Those schemes full of hope
That my flesh was no longer in my bones.

I began to die
And shiver in my blanket because of the disgrace
That this muddy-blood human being was an ash in the tray
But I'd rather not to --
That I may not turn joy into chocolates of grief.

I am dying --
I began dying to myself
And day by day, I keep on dying.
It's not simply because I choose to --
But because I'm meant for it.

To die in my own flesh
Regardless of the thousand veils I keep on wearing
Regardless of the fact that I am a human being,
But I'm not only a human being --
I am chosen
And I have a calling
And yes, it does matter.

#salvaton #deathtoself #selflessness #hope #jesus #faith

The Poetic Architect Mar 2018

Never Be Moved

0318

Whose face is it that we long to see?
That every d(r)ied bones His healing comes.
Whose face is it for the sun to rise?
That He shines so bright even to our darkest sides.

In the midst of the dark, He strolls us out
Now, whose words is it that our raging seas calm?
In the depths of the oceans, the thunder roars
But His rod becomes the correction of the soul.

Whose words is it that we call the Breath of Life?
For we died for a moment and sins were torn.
From East to West, every transgression is gone
He says, “Behold, I am coming soon.”

Psalms 30:6-7

As for me, I said in my prosperity,
“I shall never be moved.”
By your favor, O LORD,
you made my mountain stand strong;
you hid your face;
I was dismayed.

#faith #jesus

The Poetic Architect Mar 2018

Pitong Karagatan sa Isla ng Boracay

Ilang buwan na ang lumipas
Nang gisingin ako ng agos ng tubig sa dalampasigan
Puti ang buhangin
At kumakapit sa kayumanggi kong mga balat
Ang halik ng Haring Araw.

Laking-gulat ng lahat nang anurin ako
Ng napakalakas na hangin patungo sa Isla
At doon bumungad sa akin ang Pitong Karagatang
Mitsa ng aking pagbangon sa kasalukuyan.

Naghilamos ako sa maalat na tubig
At doo’y naging kakulay ko ang kanilang lahi
At inangkin nila ako
Gaya ng isang parte ng isang pamilya.

Bumukod ako sa pag-aakalang iba ako at iba sila
Hanggang sa ang ako ay para sa kanila pala
Nagbunga ang pagbuhos ng Langit ng kanyang kasiguraduhan
At doon ako'y hindi na isang dayuhan
At alipin ninuman.

Kinuha ko ang kurtina sa aking bintana
At tinapon ko sa aking likuran
Kasabay ng paniniwala kong babalik ang Araw
At ako'y muling aagusin ng napakalakas na alon kagaya noon
At sana --
Sana nga makabalik na ako
Sa aming tahana'y
Babalik na ako.

#tagalog #boracay #palawan #home

The Poetic Architect Mar 2018

Pahiram

Kailan ba ako huling nagsulat?
Matagal na ata
Kinain na rin ba ako ng sistema?
O talagang walang salita
Para maihulma ang mga katagang
“Mahal Kita.”

Ilang beses bang Ikaw ang naging paksa?
O sadyang ako na lang hanggang sa huli
Ang gagawa ng panibago?

Pahiram —
Pahiram ako ng salita
Pahiram ako ng MGA salita
Pahiram —
Ayoko na lang manghiram

Pagkat ang pag-ibig
Ay di pwedeng pahiram.

#tagalog