Papier-mâché

Standing, I am standing On this partially arid soil Overlooking a foretold place. From my son's cheerful tone,  It was the land of their bliss; My lips could not help but open ajar By the grandeur.  "This is where I will be planting my seeds,"  Echoing in me persistently. My son in delight―his eyes did not lie. "Father, I am not okay..." The latter had forced me to laugh. I stared at his hazelnut eyes― Our truly few facsimile― I could tell from his lips The shouted grace. For that is a man's temperament, From my ancient roots I revere! I had been waking up with contentment For I hold on to the identity of a man. I had always been doing it while displaying my veins. It was Wednesday afternoon of July 19th when I visited; The flowers I had placed upon the Bermuda grass months ago were still intact. I sat where he sowed the monsters that devoured his abyssal reality. Therein, autumnal leaves clung on my shoulders, "Are these you, son?"  Pledging my se...

Ilang beses ko nang sinisigaw at hinihiling nang tiklop-tuhod ang pagsagip, at batid kong nabibingi na ang langit sa paghingi ko ng awa. " Papuri! Kahabagan nawa'y mamutawi! "  Nguni't bumabalik lamang sa akin ang mga alingawngaw.  Wala, at hindi ko dama ang tubig ― ang ragasa na tatapos sa tuyot ko nang pag-asa. Pagdarahop na patuloy bubugso, at magpapatuloy sa paghukay sa kuwebang gawa ng sarili kong pag-iisip. " Ako ang gumawa, ako ang guguho, "  at paulit-ulit ko itong bibigkasin na parang isang saplot na babalot sa hapo kong katawan.

They are nothing but torturous, devourers of submission; lurking with their might. Tamed, I do not know why I am still holding on to their light.

  Anak, kalugod-lugod ka! Salamat sa iyong dulot na kulay. Yaman ko'y ikaw ang tagpo; ang pananatili ang iyong magiging patnubay. At kung ika'y magsumamo, 'di nanaisin, sapagka't ito'y guhit ng palad. Walang buhay na kaluluwa ang sisilid sa madilim na pagkatao. Kung kaya't ito'y aking dapat dinggin; kailangan kong suungin ang kailaliman nitong bangin. Orasan mo ako habang pinipigilan ko ang paghinga sa dulot nitong hangin. Naririnig mo pa ba ang paglagok ng inumin? Ito'y dugong humahagod sa aking lalamunan. Ako ay lulan ng sandamakmak na palamuting laruan; gusto mo pa ba akong hawakan? Rekado ako ng isang kumpulang sabi-sabi. "Ano'ng handa mo sa iyong kaarawan?" Isa-isa silang pipila sa akin na parang hindi nila ako pinagdudahan. Tampulan ng tukso--kahinaan ba ang tunay na ginhawa? Halakhak sila--itong aking pamilya. O sukdulan ng pagsuko at paghingi awa? Pagkalugmok, ikaw ang karaniwang pithaya! Sambit ko ang kaligayahan--ito ay aking ikuk...

"Where am I?" Speaking volume. I witnessed their victories. Here is their springboard; they are lingering fiends inside my head--lurking melancholia. "Excellence is never a sin," they chanted, while injecting into me with such force; Reckoning every move to make, outstretching my limbs, yet remained unfathomable. "Excellent's not the adjective I embody!" I shouted with shivers. I have been eager; barefoot, I tirelessly looked for my circle. Somber, still I ascended--high enough for people to witness. Are we playing? My family, thy visage I admire. There, my mother's wearing her dear garment, and my father's a classic's offspring. Ye stainless immaculacy of white, as pure as my youth's birth; I beseech my strength! Pining, while I am peeling my skin! I now am sick due to this unhealthy, familial-made destiny; Earth me up; they are earthing me up while I am hearing their negation. Agonizing cheers, still I breathe, still I breathe naivety...