093023

Ikaw ang Aking Bayan
Ang aking Pag-asa’t Ilaw
Sa mga rehas ng kadiliman…
Hayaan **** ang Liwanag Ko
Ang magningning sa Sanlibutan.

Ikaw ang Aking kawangis
Damhin mo ang Aking pag-ibig
Wagas at dalisay ang hain Ko
Kaya’t itapon ang pangamba’t
Sumabay sa pag-ihip ng hanging
Nagmula sa Aking hininga.

Sa dilim ay mas magliwanag ka
Isasaboy ko ang Aking kinang
Sa liblib na wala pang nakararating.
Takot mo’y babalutin Ko
Ng aking pagsinta habang ikaw ay humahayo.

Yakapin mo ang aking pagkatawag sayo,
Maging saksi ka’t magliwanag pa
Habang ika’y naghihintay…
At ako’y magagalak sa’yong pagsunod…
Mahal kita, Anak at mahal ko ang Sanlibutan
Pagkat Ikaw at Sila —
ang aking Bayang babalikan.

Alone in a crowd
All heads bowed to pray
I said all the words
the preacher said to say

I followed the rules
Tried to stay in the lines
that were drawn for me
I couldn’t question why

but I’m all out of faith
don’t think I can stay here with you
don’t where to go
don’t think I can know what’s really true

Alone in a crowd
among a thousand faces
all wearing a mask
tryin’ their best to fake it

Just follow the rules
and stay in the lines
don’t let ‘em see you breaking
and don’t you dare cry

but I’m all out faith
don’t think I can play at this no more
don’t know what to do
don’t know what I’m even praying for

I want to know your hear me
I’m so ******* scared
that all that I’ve believed in
was never really there

Did I really know you loved me
was I just puttin’ on airs
oh please just ******* say something, God
I want to believe you’re there

Alone in my room
left with my tears
I read that you catch them
and treasure them dear

Do my cries matter to you
these words that I pray
I’ve got nothing left, Jesus
Please don’t go away

In the solace of lavender-flickering
Fairy lights that guide
My syllables along,

Silence has never felt so
Concrete.

Silence, on questions I have asked my
Conscious for repetition, and
To hunt for answers
To unwritten dialogue,

And as I contemplate this concept,

The beauty of ringing church bells
Bleeds and creeps
Through my window,

Slicing through the distorted
Avenues and Sulcis of silence
In my mind,
                      To remind me
                                                Of where I am.
Lying in the back of my car,


Keys in the transmission,
Waiting,
                                          ­                        Hoping,
For a new path to explore
In this eclectic figure 8 of
Communication and relationship. I never
Try to make sense of it all,

Until
A faint whisper from a Princess unshackles
My liberating-attempting mind,

A faint whisper, harmonizing with the
Church bells,
Soothingly-caresses my ears,

A faint whisper,
Carrying,
The words.
I’ve.
longed.
To.
hear.






“Come with me this way.”







Hallucination of grace.
An overflowing melting ***
Of desire.





Stillness. Gracious like
A still river. Cercadas sing,
Rocks in awe don’t move.





Until the moment of that faint whisper,
I’ll remain in the spacious jar of silence,
Waiting,
For the Princess’ voices,
While the solace of lavender-flickering
Fairy lights
Guide my syllables along.

And I am made in His image!
Is that why I am so full of hate?
Look upon my works and grimace
O ye mighty, crumple with the weight

Of a thousand unreasonable sins,
But ignore the piles of bodies
Stacked outside the church bins
Being brought out by the oppressed ladies

Singing the songs,
The words of affirmation
To cover up all the wrongs
That it takes to build a nation,

And send the missionaries!
From country to country and door to door,
They will find adversaries
And come crawling back to the parish for more.

You indoctrinating Swine,
Masquerading as a charity,
Stay away from the kids, bottom line
Priests **** children while preaching chastity.

Putting tassels on your own children,
You were supposed to nurture the young,
Not brain-wash them in your special building,
You blight and blacken their lungs.

If God can be said to exist as an entity,
You will not find it in a church.
No just God would accept your dementedly
Deprived, lust-filled power grab to his ocean-view perch.

w.hen
            freef
                 a
               l
                    l
                 i
                    n
               g
            from pride's
            tiptopmost height
x.pect
            to land
            eyeball first
            on a church spire
y.ou
            saw coming from a
z.illion
            miles away

In this beautiful place of worship, the pews are padded but uncomfortable, the sanctuary large, candle lit and cold.

There's a huge glass dome and I can see the stars. Are the stars our fiery heaven??

No, I don't think the stars care about us - they don't burn with affection or passion. And if the stars weren't there we could live with an empty sky.

The Greeks would call on our star, the Sun, to perform their acts of God. I imagine most of their prayers went unanswered - not unlike our own??

To me, the whole Jesus story is somewhat sinister and inauspicious, but if Jesus, the son of God, and that whole story were the deepest, truest reality - then why hasn't Jesus returned??

Imagining heaven's father and son dialog

God: "Ok, Jesus, time to go back.."
Jesus: "Go back... go back?? Daaaaad... Did you see what they DID to me???.. nailed me to a cross; ***** them, there's no way I'm going back. Why don’t you try going back, as an ordinary man - maybe they’ll set you on fire.”

These 20 millennium old bible stories aren't exactly Euclid's logical system.... I mean, the various books aren't even consistent. Are these really, I mean really our beliefs? Or are they just kind of traditions and good rules to live by?

My parents - unlikely pilgrims in the intoxicating poetry of belief - face front and appear to be listening... in all other things they're so skeptical - it's a puzzle.

If Jesus did come back, wouldn't he practically be a caveman surrounded by bewildering technology?

I'm sorry, There's something too rich in creation for these rehearsed responses and fairy-tale fragments from a primitive world to be the answer.

Now I'm not saying there is no God or no life after death.. I.. just.. hopeless shrug

So, anyway - I go through the motions, I chant the litanies with the enthusiasm of obedience; just storing up my spiritual loot and hiding my questioning, heathen heart.

Happy Easter everyone!

i watch birds fly every day
i watch cars drive every day
i watch planes soar through the sky every day

i watch people falling through the ground every day
a few times a week i see children morph into nightmares
a few times a month i see my friends walk through walls
every so often i can smell a church burning down somewhere

every once in a while everything goes quiet
all the colors around me shift either 4 shades darker or 2 shades lighter
lighter
i want to be lighter
i want to be able to lift off the ground just like the birds

i want to be so light that i can slither through molecules
as thin as a paper

i want to walk through walls
i want to morph into something scarier than my nightmares
i want to remember what it feels like to not be scared of falling through the floor

i want to burn down a church

and then cry and beg for forgiveness at the feet of the lord

i had to, i'm sorry.
it was the only way to feel like he's truly gone.

i want to be high on the feeling of screaming at the top of my lungs.
but i can't find anything that raises me up enough to feel that.
diphenhydramine morphs children into nightmares.
dextromethorphan makes people fall through the ground and walk through walls
the devil himself makes me remember the smell of a
church
        burning
                 down
but i've never seen a church burn down

perhaps it's just my mind manifesting my thoughts into physical sensations

Who love the LORD they fear,
Enter, and worship here.  
Who love or know Him not,
Enter, but fear a lot.

When the Spirit's around - that's the third of the Three -
He regularly raises fresh questions for me:

You see , He's both the sought and the seeker, the truth and the teacher
the help and the helper, the gift and the giver.

He's the breath and the voice, the chooser, the choice
the anointer, the oil, the peace and turmoil.

He's the joy and the cries, always there to baptise
the bearer of fruit with fresh gifts to boot.

He's as wild as the wind, He'll breeze where He will
I've tried to contain Him, but He won't remain still.

I can't ever define Him, can't assign Him a label,
just accept He's my God and that my God is able

to be true to His Word while resisting defining
He'll still leave me questions, but that's not surprising.

He kicked off creation, gave the church her fresh start
and we're just the latest to play our small part.