And Anger Becomes Her

(This will be the first time I’m dedicating a poem to some people. In some ways, this is not actually a literary work but more of an outlet to release pent-up emotions. Anyway, take it as you want.)

For the people who crossed my life at one point or the other.
You know who you are.
If you don’t, then you should.


And Anger Becomes Her

What is she?
Someone laden with a hero complex
Or a vigilante

Yet not masked as such in the ancient day
For masks have served their purpose to conceal
And she is anything but untruthful
For she is fighting a battle

A futile one, some might say
Profanity, still others would shriek
Yet no matter how much others would weigh her down
She would not, in good conscience, relent
For to conform would be to accept things as a lost cause
And some things are still worth fighting for

What are these that try to contain her?
Those that made her reach the mark

For though she might not have the world’s record for patience
Seldom would she reveal her emotions to others
But for a multitude of reasons, one more vile than the last

A broken promise, led on but abandoned halfway
Supported and abetted by others in the plot,

Set to destroy what has sought to be protected

Cowards who could not have said what it is in their hearts
For it is indeed safer to not leave the cradle of youth

Than to enter a life that does not promise anything

Severed friendships for the smallest things
Allowing chaos to steal what would otherwise have been a true comradeship

As it is easier to believe what is comfortable, and not what is true

Blind assent to whatever is dangled over people’s noses

When they would choose to accept what is fed them as gospel truth

Daring not to explore what lies within, for minds are not meant to be used

Shallowness that would make the tiniest puddle proud of its depth
Refusal to open their eyes to what the world is shouting to them

For ignorance for them is truly bliss

Pretenses as transparent as a teardrop
Believing themselves to be brilliant, concealed in their cloaks of superficiality

Not realizing that everyone else knows about their facades

Taking advantage of other people’s goodness to achieve one’s desires
Call it development of gifts, honing of talents

Yet it is nothing more but exploitation of others for one’s self-gain

Those who take the gavel and proclaim themselves judges of the world
Quick to decide who is wrong, quicker still to deny their own

A “holier than thou” attitude that conceals a festering soul

Mind control, for there is no other such term
Seeking to manipulate thoughts and emotions of those who unwittingly entered

But wanting is not getting, and getting is definitely not keeping

Is that all?

Not by far

For there are others, some without words to describe them

Yet all a personification of man’s baser nature

In vessels not expected to pour from

Yet all these combine, coagulate, transform into one

Anger appears in many forms

Some choose to weep, others to wail

But she allows it to form a shield around her

Much like a stone that is as hard as it can possibly be

Seemingly unfeeling, appearing unyielding

Yet for every piece of rock, there a dribble of water may always be wrung

So she squeezes herself out by taking the steps to departure

And since farewell is said to people with honor,

She leaves without a word to anyone.

Watching

Two bright orbs gleam, following you
Quiet, unassuming, but observing
Neither sightless ones, nor those filled with ignorance
But with a sharp glance that cuts the air like a knife
Eyes following wherever you go
Like a predator hunting its prey
It pounces on the subject, and devours
Staring at you unashamedly
Had you been aware of it,
Would the hairs on the back of your neck rise
Yet you move on, unaware of the silent observers
A couple of silent stalkers moving with you every move
Nobody is aware why these follow
Not one knows the answer to the question “Why?”
The eyes yet betray themselves
When, on unguarded moments, they ask the same question
Yet the dance still continues
With one continually seeking for the otyou who does not know of the pursuit
Would that this quiet game of hide-and-seek be played out
So that peace might be achieved

You Know What's Funny...?

When people fail to see what is beyond the tips of their noses.

When they see only what they want to see.

When they accept things to be what they appear to be just because it's easier to believe that.

When they think they know the answer, but they don't.

When they think that they have to look for the answer, when it's already in front of them.

Sonnet XVII by Pablo Neruda

do not love you as if you were salt-rose, or topaz,
or the arrow of carnations the fire shoots off.
I love you as certain dark things are to be loved,in secret, between the shadow and the soul.

I love you as the plant that never blooms
but carries in itself the light of hidden flowers;
thanks to your love a certain solid fragrance,
risen from the earth, lives darkly in my body.

I love you without knowing how, or when, or from where.
I love you straightforwardly, without complexities or pride;
so I love you because I know no other way

than this: where I does not exist, nor you,
so close that your hand on my chest is my hand,
so close that your eyes close as I fall asleep.

I love this poem, not merely for its contents, not merely for its message, but also the way it was delivered. Pablo Neruda has got to be the best poet ever. I wish I could write like he did someday.

Haunting Memories

I was in church a couple of days ago, and I bumped into a classmate I had in high school. After chatting, she left while I stayed, as I was waiting for the parish office to open. It wouldn’t have been a significant event if it was someone else, but given who she was, a lot of things came back to my mind.

You see, “Marie” (let’s call her that for the sake of convenience; I’d really rather not reveal who she is) was an outcast in our batch. She always got picked on by our classmates (usually by the guys) for just about everything that she was: her clothes, her appearance, her intelligence, even her voice. She wasn’t the brightest mind by any stretch of the imagination; in truth, she was eventually kicked out because her grades didn’t make the cut-off. I remember when she was already advised about her problem, and she told some of us about it, crying that her mom will get mad at her if she did get expelled. That was the only time I actually saw her cry, though. Even amidst all the bullying, she endured, even fighting back. I remember a time when she actually challenged some of the guys mocking her to a fist fight. Thinking about it, she probably was very gutsy, or she didn’t have enough sense not to rise to the bait. This is not to demean her in any way, but sometimes, her reactions to situations aren’t really how a typical situation would act. I admit that I go out of my way sometimes to be a little kooky, but that’s just how things naturally for her. She had a bit of difficulty understanding things. She was an eccentric character, although she looks more stable now than she was some years ago.

We really weren’t close. We’ve been classmates for a couple of years, and I can’t say that we’ve actually been friends in the truest sense of the word. At times, she would ask some of us for help, as I mentioned above. My best friends and I would also ask her sometimes to join us since she’s alone, and we’d occasionally coming to her defense when the guys would think they’re being clever by being nasty to her, but that’s as far as it went. A lot of times then, I found myself even laughing with them at her expense. I didn’t directly taunt or insult her, but I didn’t really lighten her load in those instances. Yet I never saw her flinch. She went on day-by-day and endured all of that, without even giving a hint that the words thrown at her hurt her in the least. She would bear it all. She might have been bullied, but she didn’t allow herself to be bullied, because she would fight.

One thing I’ve noticed about “Marie”, even then, was her devotion, something that hasn’t changed if Saturday afternoon was any indication. She was one of the few people who volunteered to lead the class prayer (something that was normally assigned to a person based on the surname or the seating arrangement). Aside from the verbal prayer she would recite in class, she seemed to also be praying for something else, something that was between her and the Lord only, and she would always maintain those few minutes of silence, with her head bowed and her mouth words soundlessly, despite the sniggering of some of our classmates.

Seeing her brought to mind some of the things I’m not proud to have done. Even though I didn’t directly participate in tormenting her, I still laughed with them and occasionally cracked some comments about her – usually when she wasn’t around. Indirectly, I was also causing her pain, not only because I didn’t tell the guys off often enough, but because I didn’t try other ways to alleviate the situation, even adding to it by my laughter. Seeing her, however, also reminded me how good God is. The Lord said, “Blessed are the poor,” and the last word can extend to so many dimensions. There are those who are poor financially, certainly, but there are also who are poor in spirit, in health, in mind, in their family relations, in their social relations, etc. All of us almost certainly belong to one of these, or in another category of poverty. Yet the Lord promises that those who are poor are the ones who will be part of His Kingdom, and that he pays special attention to those who are oppressed. “Marie” might have been a popular kid in high school in a really negative light, but the reason why she probably was able to endure was because she was so pious to the Lord. She might have had several problems, but she trusted in God so much. Who cares if people thought her strange? When she is in that special place with Him, these petty things can just be shrugged off.

That’s the funny thing about people: when they find a person who’s not like them, it’s either they try to convert that individual into something that is more to their taste, or they would simply treat him/her as an outcast. It’s like they’re saying, “Hey, there’s no room here for diversity. It’s our way or the highway.” I have admired a lot of people who chose the latter, because they didn’t conform to the system just because they felt they had to. For sure, bad traits should be tried to flush out, but to go along with the others to get accepted is a different matter. Why should you be like the others when you can be yourself? For “Marie,” it might be because she didn’t care what others think, or because she didn’t really have a firm grasp on the situation. Whichever way, she chose not to go the way that the majority went to. At times, I think she really was doing some stuff because she’s deliberately going against the system. If she broke the rules, it doesn’t matter, as long as she was embracing who she is. To be yourself is nothing to be ashamed of: it’s that person that God wants you to be; otherwise, He would have created you differently. Unfortunately, that’s not how humanity sees it. Because “Marie’s” different, she ended up being scorned. She became like a modern-day leper: when she tried to approach people, she got pushed back. Her faults, most if not all of which are false, were thrown in her face. She might have tried to fight back, but the number of people she was going against were definitely superior. Does that sound familiar? I hope it does, because that Person who went through that is the reason why the gates of heaven are open to us now. The only difference is, Jesus Christ did not fight back the world by going to their level. Instead, He gave Himself up and allowed Himself to be raised up – on the Cross. The Lord was also different from the rest of the crowd. He was the Messiah, after all, and He was not ashamed to be Himself, that is, to be the One to fulfill His Father’s will. He embraced who He was supposed to be, and He lived His purpose.

May we all look to God for strength and direction for living out and embracing who we are – as He wants us to be.

Deuteronomy 10:17-19: “For the Lord, your God, is the God of gods, and Lord of lords, the great God, mighty and awesome, who has no favorites, accepts no bribes, who executes justice for the orphan and the widow, and befriends the alien, feeding and clothing him,. So you too must befriend the alien, for you were once aliens yourselves in the land of Egypt.”