The heavens parted

The rain stopped when she went to the Quirino grandstand to deliver her inaugural address. And as she arrived in Cebu, the heavens parted and the sun began to shine.

Good omens.

Now read the Inaugural Speech of Her Excellency President Gloria Macapagal-Arroyo

Meanwhile, right now the rain is pouring, as if the heavens want to taunt and soak the supporters of Poe. Not a good day for a rally.

blog shares??

BlogShares – Manuel L. Quezon III is something that totally confuses me.

The inauguration in Cebu

The inauguration in Cebu – Jun. 28, 2004 is my column for today.

Quo Vadis, Arroyo

Quo Vadis, Arroyo is a commentary coming out in Monday’s issue of The Philippines Free Press .

INQUIRER TV

Debuts with its 1 hour format tonight, at 8pm on ABC-5.

Your truly is the first guinea pig host.

Also, apparently there’s a profile of me in this week’s issue of The Graphic magazine.

A symbolic start

A symbolic start – Jun. 24, 2004 is my column for today.

m15m: Troy in Fifteen Minutes is funny.

Happy birthday, Papa

Today is the 78th birthday anniversary of my father.

You can read more about him in the family section of this website.

Or just take a peek at two profiles, and one of the pieces he wrote.

Monina Allarey Mercado’s profile published in The Graphic.

Nick Joaquin’s profile published in the Free Press.

My father’s essay on Filipino racism.

Why I gave up on poetry

Rest
My conciousness fades
as I curl up beside you.
But before I surrender to
my dreams,
I look at you,
and I am content.

Telephone
Through the ether
crackles the sound
of your voice.
I laugh. My joy
flies through the air
to where you are,
cradling the receiver.

Spices
Beads of sweat
on your brow.
On your face,
that expression
which says,
“what sweet pain.”

Is it a wonder, then.
why I derive so much
warmth
from the fire that burns
when you are in the throes
of ecstasy?

Company
Two souls:
how different they are.
Two lives:
intersecting at o
whereupon they become
one.
But the souls,
they remain distinct.
For how else would they
recognize the pleasure
of intimacy?

Reflection
The smell of her
on my sheets.
The moistness on them
when she woke up.
Like the warmth that lingered
after she had arisen:
such a comfort.
Like the security of resting
on her slender spine.

Question
Are you truly happy,
she asked.
And I shook my head;
Even though in me
burst
a lifetime’s worth
of melancholy.
Which was dissipated
as she held my
hand.

Face
Eyebrows meeting
over an arched nose:
Why do your eyes
question me
Even when you are
sleeping?

Ask
A question, you say,
just before you open up
(once more)
your heart.
An answer, I say,
just before I jump in
and drown
with pleasure.

Pen
It glides over the paper
trailing burgundy words;
leaving behind
a momentary moistness
like drying tears.

Current
Auras I have never seen.
But when I am near you,
my soul is drawn
toward something
intangible
by a power I cannot
define;
except
You.

Opium bed
On it, long ago,
a Mandarin reclined.
His thoughts, transported,
carried on the tail of a dragon
breathing sickly-sweet
smelling smoke.
On it, here and now,
we lie.
My thoughts are far off,
exiled to the same lands
where long-dead dreams
expired.
And the joy-
it may be just as ephemeral
as that long-dissipated smoke.

Robe
Dripping, you stand,
in your striped robe.
Trembling, I look at you.
Such must be the feeling
of the butterfly
as he prepares to dine
on nectar.

Music
Moonlight;
only by its light do I dare
to be wholly free.
Only by its light can I abandon myself
to let the waves of music wash over me.
Bringing me closer
to the abyss.

Fear
Heart pulsing,
sending life
gushing through my veins;
feeding the insatiable flames
of anticipation.

Stillness
The bat clicks,
navigating the darkness.
Crickets chirp,
predicting rain.
The silence is deafening
without the sound
of your breathing.

Impracticality exposed

Impracticality exposed – Jun. 21, 2004 is my column for today.

Elegant socialism

Socialist party list Rep. JB Bautista has violently lashed out against President Arroyo’s counsel, Makalintal, for using the phrase “kwentong kutsero” (coachman’s tale), which he says is inelegant, and “gutter”, and unparliamentary. He accused (cough cough) Makalintal of playing to the gallery.

How amusing.

Next Page »