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You’ve moved a step forward
And life won’t be the same.
But after the round of applause
Your daydream is abruptly ended.

Now, take your turn
To walk the stage
After the microphones echoes
Projecting your name.

(3/21/14 @xirlleelang)
The woman is perfected
She wears the smile of accomplishment,
The illusion of a her Greek-necessity.

Flows in the scrolls of her toga,
Her bare feet seem to be saying,
“We have come so far,
Now it’s over.”

Each new-born being coiled,
Black auras, black all over
One at each little pitcher of milk,
Once empty,
They’re poured out
With enough knowledge
From where they were fitted.

She has folded it back
Into her body as petals
Of a rose close
Her desire, her dream
They’re all in hand!

When the garden stiffens and odors bleed
From the sweet, deep throats
Of the night flower
She’ll remain awake.

The stars shall utter her name
Staring from her hood of victory
She’s used to this sort of thing
But it’s the grandest as of now.

(3/21/14 @xirlleelang)
You can hear the voices of our peers
Being silenced, ignored, shunned and distorted.
Staggering out of their bedroom doorways
To the street corner to score a dime bag.

Bright, insightful kandi kids freezing
In search of warmth from something to believe in
Hopin’ those will encourage them
To look forward to see another day.

Where our economy has made financial prudence clear
The price tag of university tuition’s skyrocket
The refused, the ones with hope
But no money or scholarships;
Tread the streets
With the echoes of electro-house
Pulsing in their skulls.

Those who strip themselves down
And shred their own morals
To scraps just to find themselves
And to see their own limitations.
Searching for answers to the unknown,
To ascertain what they are,
Who they are and why.

The bewilderment of adulthood,
The abundance of pressure and responsibility.
Awakened from nightmares of lost opportunities,
Missed trains and lost contacts.

Everything went astray
But hope crash in
They wear the armour
Facing the giants of their lives
They conquered
Became champions of this new generation!

(3/13/14 @xirlleelang)
As he lies on the stiff soiled surface
Wonder entices curious eyes
Like the smell of potent rubbing alcohol
A myriad of animals gather around
Separate races sharing one soul
Who from afar, look like father penguins.

They place rings of hues delicately
Around the fallen angel’s contour
He glows like the moving melody
Of the pledge of allegiance
Ribbons of curiosity intertwine
With their innocence
Swallows them like the merciless ocean
Engulfing confessions
Of tainted souls.

The angel is envied as they
Ponder what happens next
The last sparkle slowly simmers
While the rain reaches out
To stroke abandoned feathers
His eyes change to pearly white
As he receives his last diploma.

(3/12/14 @xirlleelang)
She keeps dancing
over the dark water;
The flash of iridescent blue
Beneath her wings,
Quick as a breath.

How else could they see?
The dragonfly dart;
Then hesitate above
The mossy green bank –
As if it gave liberated pleasure.

How could they perceive?
The green dimness falling;
Between trees, that antique stillness,
Then the vermilion leaves –
Startling, unexpected,
Like an exclamation of delight.

How could they receive?
That moment when one, then two,
Then three dragonflies skimmed
All over the once pure river.

(9/11/13 @xirlleelang)
‘Felt the heart’s old persistent music,
Beyond logic, beyond hope,
And so I didn’t heave myself
Into the blanket of fear.

To this perilous land,
I lived with you all along.
Either latent and exposed,
Still I know there’s a vivid side.

Extrajudicial atrocities
And related political violence
All over the globe;
But what your status became,
Was second among all nations!

This politically motivated murders,
Has unfastened the eyes of many.
Everything comes to blows;
Transgression and lapse like these,
Surely we’ll meet in the future.

This is the world now;
When one opt to fight or not,
Darkness will still scrap the true light.

(9/11/13 @xirlleelang)
Lost to backdrops scrolling past,
She sits knitting
in the carriage of a train.
The vague needles
They scintillate and glimpse
With the cadence of the wheels –
Upbeating ceaselessly.

Strips of tiny loops
And eyelets like dewdrops
Of condensation
Grouped on the superior rim.

Once in a while,
She gives a heave
To loosen more yarn from the skein
Of Filipino-made wool,
brushed worsted weave.
Spun and carded
from the richest fleece,
Deeper in the wicker basket by her feet.

The needles flash,
With ancient rhythms and attack
Of duellists in their chainmail coats.
With little hesitation she can tack
From plain to purl to blackberry.
Count back by rote or slip a stitch
While the fish-eyed gimlets gleam.

All gather profusely in her lap,
As windfall trove, rich-patterned
And warm with peach-fuzz nap,
All crafted from a single line of yarn.
Marvels fall continuously from wise
Spell-binding hands and all is well for now.

(9/11/13 @xirlleelang)
His hand seizes no brush,
What he has is dish alone.
There came a deluge –
A surge of days
With lovely clatter of voices.

Eggs tousled,
There’s a perplexed question within.
Amused by her doll,
That little one.

His weeks-old pant
Now rowing incessant,
Famished for something.

A trance of canvasses stretching,
Where there’re outlines
On ocher-soaked linens,
Earth-dug umber, sienna, yolk yellows,
Wet, oily and waiting to bleed
Thick and gummy from the brush.

In his veins,
The scent in ether enthralls him –
He was lightheaded
leaves me lightheaded,
Daubed and anointed
By the deity he has filched from.

Now the baby cries,
Sodden, smells like a milky cotton
Sopping every minute up,
Those implicated hours.

He’ll spill years
As the earth alters his faces.
Greens of summer,
Tarnishing into autumn..
And in winter, the north light;
Grasping firestorm
In the braids of the medium’s hair.

(9/10/13 @xirlleelang)
You swell some strain on me,
You, middle kingdom!
Eradicating small detachments,
Of both sailors and marines.

They were ranked on islets and reefs,
With an integer of nine –
There in the island next to me,
I’m sure, you know who Spratly is.

Always wanting such detachment
To be eradicated by your own;
Now stationed
On a World War II era landing ship.

Your toy-ships came near me,
With 9-kilometer of the LST.
“It’s there illegally,”
How adamant that be!

I’ve tipped you off already,
Surely will I stand firm!
Then, you’ve countered me on! –
Opting for the ******* of more skyscrapers;
Those that are on stilts;
Now nearby two Reefs & a Bank? –
Nearby my darling Palawan Island!

“There is no room at all,”
For the negotiation on some point,
You’ve declared.

Oh, here’s my friend, U.S.
Left us with course of action to try;
Everyone calm down,
Be less provocative.
For often, he flies over;
Probing some stuffs.

You are the biggest offender, my friend;
In this dispute, you show no sign of slowing;
Or backing, down.
But hey, I won’t give up!

(9/9/13)
“Being a farmer is like being a priest;
you take a vow of poverty
and make a pact with the Lord
that no typhoon will come
and destroy your crops.”

In the rise of sedentary human civilization,
The nation’s agriculture
Became the key expansion.

Its history dates back thousands of years,
With its development,
Has been driven and defined –
By different climates, cultures, and technologies.

The Filipino farmers:
Are they now a dying breed?

Numbers of small farms has dwindled,
With workers opting for city life.
But this trend could exacerbate food insecurity!
Yes, in an import-dependent country –
Already struggling to meet current food demand.

In the face of growing losses,
And from volatile weather,
To new-fangled farming tech,
Limited education makes them less receptive.

What took such toll on the agricultural sector?
Maybe the farmer themselves,
The investors, the buyers – maybe.
Now, it’s due to the government policies,
Our programs are good, yet so weak.
There’s excessive reliance on agricultural imports,
And corruption on the upper level.

Compounding the problem
Is a younger generation –
Largely, leaving rural areas nationwide,
And depleting the pool of potential agricultural workers.

They say it’s too late to do something;
But the mind-set of the younger generation
Still we can change
And make farming appealing once again.

(9/8/13 @xirlleelang)
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