Truth

There’s a truth in all of us. This is the one we’re not quite proud of, a persistent thing that won’t disappear even though we’ve hidden it in the farthest and coldest recesses of our minds. We ignore it and yet it creeps in front of us like a contender who adamantly refuses to surrender the fight even though they are beaten and bleeding, broken and smashed beyond recognition. But we recognize it because it is our truth.

At some point, you correlate stagnancy and stillness, which the world has inched around you, with this truth. There’s a point when we exhaust the battle and we give in to accepting this truth. Understanding this truth, embracing it, is probably one of the greatest thing we can do for ourselves because that moment of surrender seems to be the pass to moving forward, for the world to suddenly open up and rejoice in the individual we are meant to be… the truth that one must be.

truth is the indigenous love,
the first occupiers repressed,
forgotten, depressed because
it is primary; and primitive often
castes doubts and distorts the image
in the mirror before me, of who and
what i need to be, instead, my
mission thwarted by reclusivity;
i downplayed the meaning, even
thought impossibility, but the god
inside refuses and stands up for me.
in faith, this occurs naturally;
truth reincarnates out of necessity

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a chance at life

In the end, all we really want is another chance. A second chance to be the person we need to be. Another opportunity to set right the path we need to walk righteously towards affecting the world. Our bodies tell us this, but, at times, we allow barriers to win. However, when we stand long enough and open ourselves to listen to the silence urging us, prodding us towards that direction our compass is leading us to, a chance at this life may just be within our reach.

in that place
i sleep too often—
my sacred space
where i recline
an armchair of embrace

your skin so soft,
so close i can feel every
atom’s frenzy in delight
to be at the helm of
your distinct breath

as this same gladness
leaps at hearing you
exhale warm breezes
into my ear and a world
unfolds of possibility

and the spur of a neuron
touches me, magnetically,
charges me from lifeless
state and resurrect me—
you revive a hundred

deaths from inside me,
deliver me from its
womb and, as though i am
born again, you make
light of me once more

Believe

Days take their tolls, whether it is the long commute or long days at work which sometimes feel as though we are being pushed further away from ourselves. It feels inescapable like a maze. Then, out of nowhere, I am given a moment when silence blesses me with one word to set me free from the cages of despair. Believe. Believe that there is hope. Believe that everything will work out. Believe in God and that direct line in Faith. Suddenly, this anxiety fades and I don’t feel as though I need to see the final outcome. I just need to believe.

the droll of days,
things we have given up,
the us we surrendered,
are we still whole
or are we holed up
like cheese that
melts under the heat

can we recover,
heal towards forever?
though i know nothing
lasts long, can
i not believe in the
hope for endurance,
what’s left of faith?
can i not see it through
in the long run? because

i believe i can,
i believe you will…
i believe we can

Even in Darkness… There is Hope

When darkness pulls us under its spell, at times it is difficult to get out and rise from. It traps us underneath, forces beyond our control and all we can do is wait. Try fighting and it only makes it worse. A cloud hangs over us and there’s no telling when it will vanish altogether.

I couldn’t explain where it was coming from. I couldn’t even describe it. It was there. Just like my cough… it was there. There was a need to be alone, cut off everyone trying to make conversation and disconnect. Only the world around me won’t allow it. They wanted to talk, to sit next to me, spend time in the small tolerable spaces I yielded them. Every happy noise seemed like a nuisance and I wanted to shoot it down right away and distance myself from it, but as soon as I turn the corner… another form of joy accosted me.

Opposite’s attract, I guess you could say. These dark episodes was somehow attracting light. People were sharing light even as I tried to run away from it. I couldn’t explain it at the time, but I think this was happening to me in an effort to restore my own light to spread the kind of joy I dispersed before this cloud happened upon me. In this manner, meeting with people instead of dodging them, I was able to escape from under the darkness and restore myself with some form of light inside.

when darkness plunged me deep in its fold,
unbearable is the heft that pulls me down
into its pit and presses me further into
the cold abyss where laughter echoed from
inside the ice building around me, a
fortification from the irksome joy trying
to catch me with its sordid string, entangle
me with its embrace and shave away any frozen
particles that convinced me for a moment to
believe there is no warmth left to cast out
the hope long harbored from inside of me

rise above

How lost we have become sometimes looking for answers when the answers are already inside of us. It is just a matter of taking the first step and making that choice to commit to it wholeheartedly. Only through this do we begin to chisel out the shape of who we really are, what we are meant to be. For we are more than what we are now, distracted and numbed individuals, afraid to feel and reach for the world. We are what our bodies have been telling us along… strong and capable individuals meant to achieve, meant to bring peace, meant to rise from the physical or spiritual poverty we live in.

rise above the horror
which conquers; release
from the mind what glues
you to the ground, when
light elevates and still
you refuse to rise…

rise to the level of
your love, that which
lives and propels you
from the bog, the
quicksand that pulls
you down

for no gravity
can attempt to shake
you from the clouds
where you belong;
when you believe so
shall you rise, rise
above the ground

Pain… because everybody hurts… sometimes

The word “pain” came to mind this morning. Not a physical one, but how everyone suffers, trapped in the pain carried over from traumas we have not healed from. Pain. It exists, but we don’t know it’s there. We aren’t aware because we have covered it up, shoved it in the darkest corners of our minds, cemented it with pride that we dare not return to it for fear we might find ourselves vulnerable, weak and hurt from being in so much pain.

I’ve had my share of pain, but it pales in comparison to what others endure. Extreme poverty, pain from being prematurely touched, abandonment, divorces, breakups… pain derived from selfishness— the lack of love thereof. This kind of pain goes on and on forever, everyday, every minute, every second. Some are saved from it and recover while others never do. And for those who never do, my prayers go out to you….

Because they may never realize how much pain they are in, I’m afraid it might control them, dictate the way they proceed in the world that they inflict the same pain to others. To carry so much emotional pain while possessing great power… isn’t this the makeup of dictators who have come and gone throughout history? Their internal suffering, the insufferable hell harbored within manifested in heartbreaking ways that millions of lives were sacrificed. Because ego and pride grew exponentially, it made it difficult to see straight and proceed with love as we are intended to do in this world.

Pain teaches us, guides us if we acknowledge it. Too often, we are in a hurry to walk away from pain… we need to live and survive after all. But dealing with our emotional pain, perhaps we should take the time when it presents itself to us again. For then, we can uncover the reasons for our hatred, our vices… what it is that’s holding us back from fulfilling what we are meant to do. Only then, can we participate in filling this world with what God intended us to fill it with… love.

what pain holds, seize it with your
right hand and examine… scrutiny
awaits, be ready to unfold,
let hurt escape even when it hides
in the underbelly where the vigorous
fluorescence dwindles and the lights
turn off like night making it
impossible to see you or feel your
warmth as i search for love

Everyday is a Journey

What is a journey? Taking a trip somewhere and then coming back? Right? There’s always an association with leaving for an unfamiliar territory, possibly a faraway location and returning home with souvenirs, possibly emotionally charged or learned ones derived from the trip itself. A journey renews and transforms one somehow. Because of new perspectives, new heights sometimes reached, the mind is altered and we then look at the world in a different way. Perhaps, we come back a little more patient, a bit more forgiving. Despite leaving, I’m learning a journey doesn’t necessarily happen in a distant place. Sometimes, it just happens when we least expect it, like becoming suddenly ill and when we heal from it. Our spirit is thrown into a journey we may not have had time to take for ourselves. At that point, the stillness, quiet and rest from our temporary afflictions drive us towards a self- reflective journey where we are cornered to look nowhere else but deep inside ourselves, explore every nook and cranny so that we might expel not only the mucus and phlegm collecting in our core, but to cough out and fess up to all the habits that trap us and prevent us from living. Our temperature rises as we resist the truth, but only until we surrender and make that promise for change, in order to live the lives we are intended to live, do we break the fever and our bodies allay itself and align towards recovery. A journey towards change… what a blessing it is when we recognize it, especially when we are made to see that we are stronger than who we are, better than what we think we are. A journey transforms one and if this is the case, then everyday is a journey no doubt… it’s just a matter of whether we participate in what is being offered us.

pack my flesh, pack my soul…
into this light, plunge i and
swim towards You where i may
see my true colors beside this
gray i wear. my spirit yearns
for all the white it can behold,
the straightest line i can walk,
but i’ve been crooked and densely
worn in blue that even dances are
left untwirled, sugar unspun and
life unspectacular… free me from
this fever, this temperature rising
prison wall, push what phlegm still
plagues my vision and revive me from
this death haggling, and reset this
button in my head labeled truth

what goes around comes around…

Never kick someone when they are at their lowest, or when they are sick! That’s just really low… lower than mud or fertilizer underneath all that mud. However, when it does happen, there’s also no reason to rise to the level of those crafty and calculating individuals who tamper with peace, who dare shake the foundation where we stand. Fight it, take revenge against it, do what it is what we want to do so long as we are aware that every action garners a reaction. This is just the natural law. No matter how difficult the situation maybe, try and handle it in the most positive way! Send light their way… maybe they are acting in that way because they’ve been in the dark for so long. Because if they haven’t realized it by now… what goes around comes around!

where in the dark you struggle
and no light you can reach or
pull dares not lend itself
when most needed… there you
regurgitate such strange words,
the trickle of saliva bludgeons
with self-serving intentions
even as i am knocked to the
ground, limbs broken, bruised
but unscarred— leave me a
moment to let the fumes escape,
for until the smoke dissipates,
only then can i pray for you

what is gold within

We’ve been looking elsewhere too many times that we forget there is gold in each one of us, a secret treasure waiting to unfold. What gifts we may hold inside won’t stay hidden too long. This gold isn’t our wealth to keep, for it longs to breathe and flourish. Eventually, we must let it flow from us, share it with the world.

quietly i stay beside your
impoverished heart, my heart
like yours, compatibly, we are
each a rare anomaly whose beauty
converges like dawn to daylight.
we are the image of likeness,
gods in our own right, fragmented
still but divine. we pick up where
we last left a lifetime awhile,
only i can’t seem to remember. so
i journ once again, plunge myself
deeper into the impurities and sift
through what is gold within

make peace with rain

Rain always makes me thankful. Existing in a period of drought, my heart races at the first drop of rain. How many trees will drink today, how much grass will flourish today? I cannot speak for heavily flooded areas for theirs is a different point of view from dried up lawns and cautious use of water (and for that, my heart goes out to them for i too have lived through the aftermath of a typhoon). But a lesson of gratitude fills me today, thankful that God has blessed us with this modicum amount of rain, if not to reacquaint us then to christen us, reel us back to hope in each drop of rain.

tune out the chaos and
let the silence come in
for no rain can permeate
thick walls saturated with
voices. the clamor of fear
and dissatisfaction crumpled
and stuffed inside our core
pushes our divinity out to
the margins, a puzzle as
to why insecurity settles in;
quietly, open the door and
make peace with the rain,
shake its persistent hand
and let it drench the palms
destined to touch and change
the course of man