all i know of debt
is that my sins have
been paid for

and guilt
is a heavy burden

when i look
at my empty hands,
i do not know
what to give back

when i look
at the world, i marvel
at the magnitude
of what i owe

so much so
that i kneel

before you
and forget
how to stand

She was this silver moon
alight her seldom seen swing
or virtually then
as time in a bottle

and in this antiquity
on Saturday night
she grew the orchard
by the cloverleaf

when her bridge opened wide
and she felt so granted
that it was her ambiance or garth
near a point then

she went combing a ride
the bus did go that way
and her muggy wantonness
burst inside her chest every moment

That boy on the street is running away
He has a family waiting at home
You pull over the car on the highway
And talk to him, saying he cannot roam.

Mercy is telling him to stop running
Reminding him of his friends back in town
Those kids in school he'll never stop missing
His sister will cry if he's not around.

You introduce him to a simple prayer
One that shows him forgiveness at not cost
You say running away gets you nowhere
You've tried it before and only got lost.

Compelled to help the boy on the street
He happily goes home, not in defeat.

i asked my god for rest
and in pagan desperation
he gave me apolaki
god of the sun and war
i mistook him for seraphim
God struck me down
with the force of a thousand spaniards
reaching my country's once untouched shores

your land had a god of the sun and war
before they pinned you in virginal grace
your country wanted you to see the sun
and remember war was not for the bloodthirsty
for your people it was god's will

i asked my god for love
and in carnal frustration
he gave me anagolay
goddess of lost things
i mistook her for a saint
archangels unsheathed their swords
celestial eyes filled with rage

your land had known loss
long before you did
your country had known loss
long before love had made it known
you will find yourself again

i asked my god for light
and in familiar search
he gave me tala
goddess of stars
and i stopped seeing them as stained glass figures
i no longer saw my banished gods
engulfed in the power of rome

my land saw the stars before God's first day
"let there be light" He said and apolaki bowed in recognition
tala greeted Him with a smile and promise
anagolay laughed in joy and gratitude
my country had gods before wooden crosses
before the galleons carrying friars came armed in holy water
before my archipelago had become a sprawl of cathedrals

now i'd like to think my God and bathala smile down on me
saint jude conspiring with lakapati
cherubim sleeping in diyan masalanta's arms
i'd like to think the gods are at peace
i'd like to think they would only want me to remember
to never forget every disfigured reflection of the almighty

Thy will be done.

What if I were president? What party, what values would I hold?
If I were president would I be humble, honest, and bold?
When I talk about greater justice for immigrants, I'm a Democrat.
When I speak out against abortion, I'm a Republican.
When I talk about racism and racial inequality, I'm a Democrat.
When I mention small, localized government, I'm a Republican.
When I support the common good and solidarity, I'm a Democrat
When I say the family should be strengthened, I'm a Republican.
When I speak up against the death penalty, I'm a Democrat.
When I refuse to fund contraception, I'm a Republican.
So, where does this leave me? You have to pick right?
Well in some ways I'm both, and in some ways neither.
You see, if I pick Democrat I'm going against my Republican values
And the same is true of my Democrat values if i decide Republican.

If I were the president I'd work for peace, love, truth, understanding
I would work to build bridges between the peoples and the nations
Walls and fences do not, the best neighbors, make.
I won't convince you with anything I say, but if I do my best to live and
To reflect love, to give hope, to find joy maybe you'll want it too
To lift up the lowly, help others help themselves, to forgive and to love
That's some of what I hope to do.

In truth, I'm a member of an institution that teaches that freedom is when a person no longer acts under the influence of someone else. An institution that encourages free will and free thought. An institution that doesn't fit inside a man-made box.

This is being true to myself, this is who I am.

I'm Catholic

Forgive me father,
for I am Sin
and I am here
to take you in.

Its been thirty years
since my last confession,
but mere moments
since your last transgression.

and though you thought
all had gone unseen,
your hands and soul  
remain unclean.

You took
our Father's Sacred Trust,
and through it proclaimed
yourself as just.

And, while children,
yes, they will believe,
the eyes of mine
you can't deceive!

I know what you did
and you know to who,
and I'll not let you
draw the curtain through.

Your crimes,
these I will expose;
For my friend,
the victim no one knows.

No one knows him,
because he's dead.
because of you.
Because he bled.

You see,
he thought he
was just a boy.
Not some secret to destroy.

So,
it didn't make sense to him to live,
because of what you said
and what you did.

But, don't you ever believe
that Our Lord allows
men like you to break these vows,
and then disclaim
and then rebuke
a boy who dared to speak the truth.

You watched as a child sank and died
and to the Courts, how loudly you denied.

But,
don't believe that I am ever fooled,
and my vengeance will not be overruled.

For I am Sin,
and I don't care how much you cry.
**My Hell awaits the day you die.

He’s a little boy, sweet innocence,
Against priestly-rites worth seven pence,
And Mama, Papa, don’t you care?

While Father’s searching for his peace in a bottle;
Billy’s the only thing there…

Run little boy, Billy, run,
Old Father’s drunk, hear him whine again,
Crying misery and wallowin’…
A nightly muse for his chagrin,
And you’re the one he calls his; “sin.”'

So run little boy, Billy, run,
Cause Father’s drunk on his wine again,
Into his holy chambers -he’ll drag you in,
To show something he calls a sin,
And take you down to Hell with him.

He was a little boy, sweet innocence,
His name was Billy and he was heaven-sent,
A tortured child who lost his faith,
To the drunken musing’s of a cold-hearted wraith,

Run little boy, Billy, run; Jesus weeps for you son.
*Run little boy, Billy, run; Jesus weeps for you son.

It's ironic.
All of those years,
sitting through bible studies,
being forced to attend weekly mass,
rather than building a relationship with their God,
I built anger towards the very idea of it.

*******
******* is a mortal sin
*******
my dog isn't going to heaven
*******
and every contradictory ******* teaching in your "holy book"
*******
and your homophobic, thieving, child molesting "ministers"

I don't believe in that ****

Why should I feel guilty about breaking your ******* commandments

You tried to brainwash me from the time I was a small child until the time I graduated highschool

And I'm supposed to believe that the evil ones reside in the islamic faith

*******

I relish in every scandal that befalls you

I wish I could unlearn the "ideals" that have been force fed to me throughout my entire young life and now plague my character

I hope change comes with time

I hope I find out what God really is