Another Chance... Songs of a Valkyrie (Part 2)

The early evening air whispers anew,
With the sound of the drizzling rain providing a soft harmony,
Yesterday has gone and tomorrow promises a new age.
An age of marvel, of hope, of miracles, of joy.
An age of blessings, of tears and of laughter.
An age of family, an age of friendship, an age of love.
Tomorrow is a new day, tomorrow is a new age.

The clouds and the full moon tell me that
Yesterday was a lesson, yesterday was lost.
Yesterday was found and it helped form a cause.
A cause for celebration, a cause for moving on.
A cause for looking forward to a new day, a new dawn.
A cause for another chance, a chance worth living for
Because yesterday is gone, and tomorrow is a new dawn.

At Summer's End

The sound of rain makes the listless bodies
Form molds under the covers in their beds.
Tis' truly begun, the season of rain,
And the summer has away gone.

Wake up, lazy head, and greet the morning sun
As it peeks through passing clouds.
The day is new and the world is, too,
Let's march while the day is young!

Estranghera

Sa pinili mong landas,
Kung san di lang minsan nadapa,
Nagalusan at naputikan,
Kung san di lang minsan ding
Tumayo ka't humikbi sa kirot
Na pinsidhi pa n'yaring takot
Na dala ng yong pangungulila,
Kung san di lang minsan
Na ika'y humayo at lumakad na muli
Upang marating ang pinili mong paroroonan.


Isa kang estranghera sa mga matang
Mapanglait at mapanghusga,
Ng dahil sa ika'y naiiba sa kanila,
At dahil hindi singtuwid ng landas nila
Ang landas na iyong napiling sundan,
Pinipilit durugin ng itinatago nilang poot,
Ng pilit kinukubli nilang takot, 
At dungisan ng kanilang panlilinlang
Upang mapilitan kang tikisin,
At tuluyan ng iwan ang landas na napili.


Estranghera, ang araw ay di laging magkukubli,
Kahit mga tala'y di lilisanin ang langit,
Kaya't sa landas mo'y mayrong mananatiling
Ilaw na tutulong upang di muling maligaw.
At di rin naman mauubos ang mga taong
Sa mundo mo'y di makakalimot na tumanaw
Ng kahit kaunting pakikisalo, pakikiramay, pakikibaka,
Pagka't maski sa daming bese na ika'y nadapa o naligaw
Mayron pa ring sumisilip na ilaw ng pag-asa,
Ilaw na gagabay at tutuwid sa daanang liko-liko.

Reading Between the Lines... The Anatomy of the Ideal Man or Woman (Part 1)

               Since my grade school days, I've listened to boys and girls talk about their ideal partners in life. I've even answered countless slum books and dating surveys, detailing what's supposed to be an ideal picture of a guy I'd be dating or, perhaps in the future, marry.

               "Tall, dark and handsome..."
               "Has beautiful eyes, a cute butt and a sweet smile..."
               "Must be caring, responsible and smart..."
               "Should not care about how I look like, but instead look at the person I am inside..."

               These are just some of the ways people describe their ideal partners in life. And whether we admit it or not, the way we describe our ideal men or women change as we go grow older, as we experience different relationships, and we witness other people's relationships.

               The question now is this: what do we really mean when we say "must be caring, responsible and smart" or "should not care about how I look like, but instead look at the person I am inside?" What do we really want in a guy when we say, "tall, dark and handsome?" Or in a girl when we say, "has beautiful eyes, beautiful eyes and a sweet smile?"

               A recent conversation with a former classmate in Psychology has led me to these questions. We talked at length about what people really mean when they say this and that about their ideal mates. Do we really know what we want? Or do we really take extra effort in adding subtexts to what we say we want, carefully defining every adjective we use to describe that ideal partner?

               When a woman says, "I want my man to be sweet and romantic," she often leaves out that she wants him to bring her flowers in front of other people, take her out on expensive dates, constantly hold out his hand for her, carry all her stuff - even her purse - when they are out together, and many other things. Meanwhile, when a man says, "I want my girl to be sweet and caring," the term "sweet" may actually refer to her being "sweetly proportioned" - as in big breasts, small waistline, big hips - while the term "caring" may actually mean that she's willing to literally make him her master - constantly shower him with kisses, cook for him, clean for him, follow him around and serve him and his buddies. Of course, these examples may seem very extreme but to deny their truth in certain cases is simply hypocritical.

               Breaking down this concept of an ideal man or woman and looking into some of the possible subtexts of this concept are arduous tasks. There are far too many to include here, and most are undeniably unconscious subtexts - we don't realize that they are also part of what we want in our ideal partners. In fact, that lengthy discussion with my former psychology classmate lasted for several hours but never really ended. We still trade notes and observations every once in a while. We agreed to post some surveys on our individual social networks to see what kind of responses we'll get. Part II of this article will be dissecting those responses to aid us in defining what we so lovingly termed "the anatomy of the ideal man or woman."

Songs of a Valkyrie (Part 1)

Forsaken, thine kiss has been stolen,
My breath taken from me.
Forsaken, my wounds have no healing,
The scars burn incessantly.


My sword has turned against me,
My eyes can no longer see.
My dreams have failed to save me,
Waking moments tormented by thee.


Rising from the ashes are them warriors of old,
But they left the mem'ry of me behind.
Calling from a distance is a voice so cold,
And the need to bleed comes alive.

My Daily Prayer

With unwavering faith,
and without fear in my heart
I look up and allow myself
To be showered by His undying love.

"Oh, that He may bless me indeed,

And enlarge my territory,

That He may lay His Hand upon me,

And keep me from evil..."

AMEN.

How Do You Teach a Heart

How do you teach yourself
To forget pains past,
To stop regretting past decisions
To stop telling yourself
That you should have done this a long time ago
Instead of submitting yourself
To four years of lies, deception and physical abuse,
Four years of hate, anger and false refuge?
How do you teach yourself
To trust and believe now,
To see the truth behind clouds of gray,
To look beyond the troubles of today,
And see the rainbow after the rain,
The sun hiding behind yesterday's eve.
When you wake up each morning, wondering
If the person waking up right beside you
Will stay with you till the end,
When each time you close your eyes,
You see his face, and smile,
Casting aside all sense of doubt...
How do you teach a heart to love again?
You don't... it simply does,
Just don't hold back now,
'Coz before you know it,
You may actually find yourself
Really, truly happy once again.


Written on 14 August 2005

Singing My Blues Away

I'm singing my blues away
And there's no begging me to stay
I've lived far too long in broken dreams
So now I'm singing my blues away.

The rainclouds beckon me to stay
But it's just no use to linger anyway
I've shed far too many tears this way
So I'll be singing my blues away.

I've found the strength to find a way
To greet the dawn with a smile everyday
Rather than hide in a closet filled with fears
I choose to just sing my blues away.

I'm carrying on
No doubt it's still gonna be long
But I've been blessed with a song in my heart, in my head
So I can go and paint my town in red.

I'm singing my blues away
There'll be no more sad tears today
This time there's no making me stay that way
'Coz now I'm singing my blues away.

Revival

Yup, I am reviving this old old blog site of mine once and for all. It had a two-year break before I finally realized that a lot of the things I've been writing are kept stashed away in the privacy of My Documents.

A lot of things have happened since my last blog entry. New apartment, new job, new sidelines, new baby... and did I mention I'm back to being a single mom? It's been a rough two years but I am happy with the new ME somehow.

So, what does this blog have in store for the next few months? Well, a lot of the stuff I've been writing are articles about life, relationships, work, places, people, and being a single mom. I'm also throwing in some reviews on books, movies, music, and current events. I can hardly wait to get started, but I'll touch up some of my really good ones first before I start posting them. Till my next (err, first? err... yeah...) post then!

Broken, I Am

I lie here, waiting
Each morning, every evening.
Waiting for a word, a message,
Even a mere warning.

I lie here, waiting
Forlorn, and weakening,
The deafening silence
All consuming.

My subterfuge
Of being whole
Is but a mere attempt
To hide the fresh wounds.

Wounds scathing not the flesh,
But the heart and the soul;
A death that seeks those who are
Enfeebled by false hopes.

I watch as this sordid world
Continues to turn, mocking
My measly existence,
My negligible presence.

I watch helplessly,
As there naught anything else
That my solace can afford me
But a window to watch the world.

I walk this ragged trail each day
To join others and their masks
Worn to conceal tears shed
For those, like me, who have come undone.

Undone by the chaos of this world,
They are.
Undone by the despair that has consumed all hope,
I am.

Some Old Journal Entries (from those lost)

"Love is, by no means, quantifiable. Neither is passion. This makes the whole concept of 'loving a person more' a contradiction. One cannot measure how much s/he loves a person for love is beyond all principles of reason, all principles of physics or accounting. One can never say that s/he loves another as much as that person loves him/her. There is no way to compare what cannot be quantified and measured."
- journal entry, December 4, 2006
(Jessica Zafra's version sounds better, and wittier... she probably wrote it before I did, too)

"Love is irrational... so is passion. The moment you try to rationalize these, you set yourself up for disaster. No long discussions or debates can ever result to an agreeable reason why or how people fall in love, or give in to their passions."
- journal entry, January 16, 2002

"What pleasure might one soul find in spending even a fleeting moment in the arms of eternal love? ... One that is not merely as fleeting as that moment's embrace, but as eternal as the love shared with a beloved."
- Abbe May, December 4, 1995

LISTLESS

I grow weary

Each hour, each minute

Every second that passes.

My breath remains stale

In this humid room,

In the mid-day sun.

My head aches,

Muscles in my body

Heavy with lethargy.

My naked body,

Dripping with sweat

Embraced by the sheets.

Intoxicating is the scent

Of the down pillow

Pressed against my face.

I turn over to see

The stream of sunlight

Through the blinds.

Sweat slowly dripping

Around my lips

As I exhaled a deep breath.

My skin glistens, wet;

And as I pull the sheets away

I stretch my indolent body.

The electricity failed today,

Must’ve been a short somewhere…

And it ain’t helping me wake.

photo from http://i545.photobucket.com/albums/hh365/belle_princez/mmsl.jpg

REMEMBERING SAMUEL

You came on Christmas day,
Wrapped in newspaper and plastic
In an old shoebox.


Your body was so soft yet so cold;
Your tiny fingers and tiny toes
Washed clean by what streaming warmth my tears could bring.


Your face, as fair and innocent like the dawn of that day,
Held so little memory of sharing the air that I breathed
As I held you close.


With trembling hands and agony in my chest
I tore away that little package that bound you,
Revealing the naked truth behind your mortal death.


I shared with you my blood;
I shared with you your pain,
And the yuletide season may never feel the same.


Please forgive me for not being there
For her, for you
Before she took your life away.


You left on Christmas day,
Wrapped in my shawl, with all my love,
Carefully placed in a small abaca-woven box.


I let you go on Christmas day,
Buried you in garden soil in an old icebox
Dug by my fingers, watered by the tears from my eyes.


And all I could give you was a name.

photo from http://www.soulprintsphotography.com/images/index_04.jpg

KUNG 'DI RIN LANG...

Saan pa dadalhin
Uhaw kong puso't damdamin
Kung di rin lang makakamtan
Minimithi kong pag-ibig?


Minsan na akong nabigo,
Minsan nang nasaktan at pinagkaitan.
Sandaling nagkubli sa dilim ng nakaraan
Sandali rin ang lumipas bago natuto muling lumaban.


Aanhin pa ang buhay
Kung hindi man lang mapagbibigyan
Natatangi kong hiling na sana'y
Makita ka man lang muli kahit minsan?


Tila ba isang bangungot
Ang maranasang ika'y ipagdamot,
At ako'y napagbilinang ibaon na sa limot
Ang lahat ng alaala ng saglit mong pagsinta.


Kung di rin lang kita makikitang muli,
Sana'y hindi na hinayaang magkubli
Ang puso kong ikaw ang itinatangi,
Ang pag-ibig kong mananatiling sawi.

photo from http://oscarandre.files.wordpress.com/2008/01/alas_my_lost_love_by_countelmo.jpg

RAIN

Pouring, continuously,
Since this day’s dawn.
Lying on my bed,
Trying to ignore
The beat of each second
Passing by,
Being drowned by
The sound of the
Pouring rain.


Coldness, embrace me,
Hold me tight,
And feel me.
Let the rain take
Time away for
Just a while.
I want, for now,
To feel your touch
Under the sheets
As the rain
Continues to wet
The waiting earth.


photo by http://smithakumaran.files.wordpress.com/2009/08/71619-11-first-taste-of-rain.jpg