Unhuman

When I was younger, learning of people came with splitting a drink. I don't share the same disdain for drinking that my friends and family have. I'm not naïve, I know it's essentially poison, but I figured the trade-off, then, was worth it. I liked the act of drinking, it used to mean I get to share a time with people baring a part of themselves: who they were, a funny thing that happened today, what they feel, when did they laughed the loudest, cried the lowest yet the hardest. 

The drinks helped soften the masks we believe to be ourselves and show a sliver of what's underneath. It used to feel as if sharing what it meant to be a person, with the answer changing with each story heard. And even when it transformed from one sport victory to another sweet look back at a love ruined by a terrible break-up, it felt as if the shape and weight, to me, looked familiar with every voice. 

A friend I'm seeing again, only, changed with the stories they have. 

I used to like going out to clubs and bars, a wonder washes over me, filling me with excitement to hear the next person. Now, it feels as if it's hollow, a corpse possessed for posturing, for displaying the surface, and god forbid if that surface breaks: a measure if you're to be seen or heard, else, unseen, unheard... unhuman. 

There's no wonder anymore. I only feel myself getting hollowed out, leaving only my skin, to be postured the way they think I should be. And who I should be to them is not very much: a bystander, glazed away by eyes that meet my shape but determined to be less than the worth spent on the moment of seeing me. I can't see that familiar shape anymore. 

The shape has changed, with each voice now competes to look better with every drink, and they are easier on the eyes, yes. But I won't spend a moment of looking inside their pretty, weightless shapes.

I only see hollow puppets, fighting to be seen, be heard, be human. 

poem 17m

Nakilala ko siya sa pagsasama ng alaala, sa gitna ng umaga na tila'y tadhana.

'Di ko hinanap ang ngiti ng tulad niya, o ng gandang 'ngalan siya, ngunit, ayan na:

Sa munting pag-usap, sa muntikang pagtagpo, sa muling pag-usbong sa pagsalubong ng tala,

Biningi ang isip sa pusong lamig; pagtinging pinagkamalang pag-ibig sa pag-asang inakalang matagalang ligaya.

Test of Fates

To whom should my love be given?

The clouds give hint to this, I pray.

For the days of sweet youth shall end

Without thought, I fear what to say.

Bounded by dreams I do not own

Save for friends; passions that give hope.

The path I've chosen, as I've known,

Gives no joy to those who can't cope.

Of Work and Distractions

As I lay here believing mistruths I myself had conjured

That this visage of success arises; in ashes I see:

No reprieve in wastes, in this or that to which I ruptured

In believing, that my dreams will take flight in effortless glee.

To work I say to it: come, capture me with lenses that focus

On goals to which burdened me with no joy to be found,

Possess my mind and take what fate has planned to loose

And knot my heart to learn, a job I'm forever bound.

To The Man I Married by Angela Manalang-Gloria (Filipino Translation and Analysis )

A Philippine Literature course activity, translating the poem: To The Man I Married.

The instructions didn't include adding a meter; only rhymes were necessary. However, I went ahead and gave my translation both rhyme and meter. 
(I do not claim ownership of the poem "To The Man I Married")

Original:

TO THE MAN I MARRIED

by Angela Manalang-Gloria

I

You are my earth and all the earth implies:

The gravity that ballasts me in space,

The air I breathe, the land that stills my cries

For food and shelter against devouring days.

You are the earth whose orbit marks my way

And sets my north and south, my east and west,

You are the final, elemented clay

The driven heart must turn to for its rest.

If in your arms that hold me now so near

I lift my keening thoughts to Helicon

As trees long rooted to the earth uprear

Their quickening leaves and flowers to the sun,

You who are earth, O never doubt that I

Need you no less because I need the sky!

Poem 17

No meter but with rhymes. 

I don't know what kind of poem to call this and I won't pretend to know.

 It's just a poem I wrote that I thought I'd show.

It seems that everyday that I come in and see you

I feel like I can't speak, looking through your clear eyes.

Even though I can feel coldness when you knew,

With the decision you made, I can only respect and realize.
In this I wish for you to stay forever alive and not in vain, 

For to me, you're more remarkable than what others see, 

Even when you'd think a glimpse is what you may attain, 

You've changed a lot in me, for that, you mean more to me.

Verse I

Even when I knew what to say, to think, to act
I always fall short of what I dreamt, felt and thought
Wishing myself having in others what I lack
Thinking that love'll come when I find what my mind sought.

Sweet Lies

"Love is the triumph of imagination over intelligence"

–H.L. Mencken

SWEET LIES always mask the bitter truth. Whether in life or in love, the truth isn’t always as appealing as the lies in which our thoughts comfort ourselves. But lies, as to their nature, do not last long; a tower stacked without cement: it hides its weakness with the façade of height and magnificence. Sooner or later, lies will crumble underneath its own foundation. Why, then, do we drown ourselves with the fleeting lies our thoughts make up? Why, then, do we choose to live in ignorance of these lies? The answer

Literature: The Radical and Subversive Gear of History

What drives remarkable men and women in history? If history is the study and recording of the changes that occur in human civilization, it would be sensible to say that these people are those that initiated change whether of positive or negative inclinations.

Between Night and Day

When twilight enters the realm of a man who was once called upon as a child, his surroundings slowly become withered, gray and nostalgic. Memories are his only comfort in the world where his actions no longer become as exciting or important as it was once. Love becomes his one joy and family becomes most important in his life.

Two Selections

While taking the English sub-test of the N.A.T., I read two interesting selections from two separate questions that I've pondered on:

The first tackled the idea of Happiness.

Sonnet 3 (What Once Was)

A world both clean and free,

With fields of grass and rivers so clean,

Vivid colors are all around to see

Were only hopeful dreams I've seen.

At present, the world seems so bleak;

With rivers so toxic it flows in green.

Everyone acts with ignorance as we speak,

Towards the world I wish I could've seen.

Food, money, power and worthless leisure,

All this we seek through careless acts.

And our minds, corrupted by pleasure

Cannot see the horrid facts.

The future may be no more to live for

To be hopeful, we must give more.

Secluded in Silence

All my hatred fills my heart with such rage

Of friends and family both null and fake

Void of acceptance, my life is a cage

Full of regrets and enemies to make.

Youthful Dreams

For Rose, the object of my once youthful dream, 

a person I never tried to know.

Long, yes, yet on this seventh year it seems

My love is dying; Now I've been seeing

That I have been dreaming such foolish dreams

All I see now is how I've been lying.

Its Generosity has blinded me

Never have I worked tirelessly for it.

For on that year, I changed so you could see

That I can be the best, so I may fit

Change: Keeping the ball rolling

I don't know how it all got this way but all I know is that people change through the years, months, weeks and days. Every hour, minute and second they realize new things. Change how they live through everyday to make up for past faults. I thought maybe I should change too.

In some ways I may consider that I've changed too. Though not entirely, I've made decisions that changed some of the negative habits I've been doing. I may not have changed entirely but I've started. And this start will help me move forward to the change I've wanted.

A Letter To God (High school Letter Writing Activity)

Dear God,

God, up until now I haven't spoken solemnly to you for quite a while. I've been ignorant to your calls, your gifts and your greatness. Lately, I've forgotten what it is you truly made me for: to worship you.