After the rain By Inno

Feel the frosty wind embraced essence

Gasp the breezy murmur of leafy presence

Then witness the empty, warm sense

To grip with nature’s license

Heed the tone of rain drops

For you to hear, to unwind to the top

And reach the blue-gloomy horizon

With its uppermost serene reason

Dawn hanging golden

To blanket the dimness of a whole long day

And take the lane all the way

Soaring the sky once and again 

The Anatomy of Deception by Telle

It is quite funny--o tragic to say the least-- to think that we are a race that inherited kids. Your forefathers believe in this and their forefathers believe in that and eventually, those beliefs will be forced on you, eventually making you the next victim. So much for living in a free and democratic system! Well, he you look at it, some of the lies-- half-baked or fully orchestrated--became other people's truth; it is much like saying one person's trash is another person's treasure. Because truth, the face value of truth can be considered as wealth to most people. It is what defines integrity-- after all, a concept is just a version of another concept, depending on how it is used, depending on intension.

Forces have two poles, as it was inculcated to us: the positive and negative, the light and the dark, the evil and good. We are too inclined to grouping concepts according to these opposing poles. Actually, it is not about thinking that all concepts can be justified by being labelled either of the two. If we look at reality, we are caught between impetus of intentions; we are being manipulated by the appearance of reality. When we look down with contempt on our fellow human being because they sinned differently from us, we think that our religious side is being justified, rendering us holier than thou. Well, that is how some fabricated lies are formed into a shadow of veracity. Too pathetic if I dare say so myself.

We are beings who accept what is served before us; we do not contemplate on it. One thought, one's conforming would become a culture; culture, more often than not, is not refuted. The precepts are accepted without our consenting on its relevance. We merely accept. I remember something I read: one would come up to the conclusion that one plus one is equal to two, another would accept that truth without even asking questions and will compel to other that, indeed, one plus one is equal to two. A teacher told me to give reasons a benefit of doubt. And doubting presupposes awareness. You cannot doubt something if you are not aware that it is wrong. Then, if so, why did one plus one become two? What we know or grew up in becomes our general truth. We fear to question it lest we would be labelled haters of mankind. Being human requires being able to accept. No? This is far better: being human requires being able to doubt. We have to learn to set a standard for ourselves. We live in the shadows of others. We accept things as they are. Come to think of it, do we still think? Is Rene Descartes justified when he said cogito ergo sum-- I live therefore I exist? Again, the glint of awareness is cast upon a shadow of doubt. We may think that we think but never thought that other people made up think that we do think. It is the greatest deception of all: to believe in something a system has fabricated.

On the other hand, I am not contesting that the mundane world-- with all its flaws and glories-- is a system of fabricated lies. We should only be aware that the truth, a harmless little fly, may be caught up in its convoluted web and be gobbled up by a manipulating spider.

Our culture is dominantly an "I-command-you-to-do-this" kind of culture. We just listen to what we are commanded; and the silent orders-culture, that is--are composed of orders we are not questioning. Transgressing these unwritten laws would bring forth shame, hence, a shame-oriented culture controls our every note. Again, the benefit of doubt. We are in the position to question established norms. As I said: we live in a society that tells us all transgression is a sin. Something sinister. It contains us, thus, we fear to question. We fear to go against the flow. Cynicism has no place in us all. Why--for our self-preservation's sake-- consider everything a lie then prove what is real in the process.

Our agnostism is not a way of life but a concrete evidence that we seek the truth. If we doubt, we give ourselves a free gift of finding out the best way to live life. It should not be subjected to a lie or deception made for the benefit of others. We need to think. Acceptance is utter surrender to something. This generation is led into a compulsion so great, no one ever dared question it. If we stand our ground to see what is beyond the veil of subterfuge. Maybe then, a new revolution would befall. Let up open our minds to the veracity of our existence; it is our right. A right long taken from up by the self-proclaimed gods and masters.

The Servant's Whisper by Enma

I am loyal

 that's what he thinks

for what he says I follow

for what he thinks I please

'cause someday I know he'll be finished

i serve my whole life for him

for i am already dead

but breathing

i wasted my time for the person

who ruined my whole life

i protect

i care

for the man I HATE

I smile

i thank for my worst nightmare

'cause HE is my MASTER

and

i am his SLAVE

I'd always taught him

things i don't want to learn

i'm always with him

not for the concern

 but the reason

i know

soon

i will kill him

i will kill every person

who's against him

i'd always kept him safe

the man who took my everything

i put my love to him

'cause i know someday

he will bend his own knee in front of me

i'll always be at his side down to his last breath

 seeing my sword and him both bleeding

and before he closed

his eyes forever kept him asleep

 i'm going to tell him a bedtime story

 'bout a young boy

crying beside

his bloodless parents

SWEARING TO TAKE REVENGE. . .

Ride the Wings of Redemption by Telle

·        
She is a dove trying to conquer the sky.
Her nest the icy cold of earth's embrace.
The light of autumn wishes her flight well.
But she wanted to stop the worthy race.

Against herself.
Her eyes are the loneliest star gracing the sky.
Against herself.
Her wings a pair frail to spread and fly.

She cast all doubts to the sky, forming clouds.
Just to fly into them, a growing pain.
If it'd fall like rain, her nest would not warm her.
Perhaps the life she has is ashes to remain.

Her wings are broken from the fall.
If I have the chance I'd come to the rescue.
And restore this winged creature of tears and broken hopes.
Now I know just what to do.

I became the nest to give her the embrace.
The light of autumn to guide her flight.
Look into her starry eyes to know who she is.
And tell her to fly she has the right.

A thousand miles she thought she could never cover.
For hesitation holds her mending wings.
The wind of life shall blow to stop her.
But if again she falls, on the ground I'll be waiting.

This is redemption beyond flight.
Her savior stands aground.
Behind the broken wings there's purity.
Beating for life for her I found.

Manipulasyon ng Utak ni Telle

• ·  

  
  Ikaw na nag
  
  ma ni
  pula
  
  ng
  sali
  ta
  u(pang)
  dima
  ka pag
  dala ng
  kahu
  
  lu
  gan.

  
  

The Ultimate blasphemy By Telle

Neither God nor Satan

Created this world

and held the power

after gold

Some people would think that equating God with Satan is sure blasphemy. But how about the blasphemy that can be done in poetry? Poetry is most of the time figurative, so accusing the author of trying to be literal in a verse is a stereotype we must get away from. They suffer from censorship pure and simple. If the majority tries to tell the poet to change the verse because it does not suit their 'religious' or philosophical taste, they are violating the author's freedom-- much like holding press captive. If the poet have in to the whim of the majority, he becomes a sell out to them. Yes, he may gain fame, but in the end, he sacrifices his convictions and principle. Fame is just a question of being favorable.

When a writer finds himself in a dilemma, he is caught between himself and the collective. Choosing the collective is like deciding to do business with them. But no learning is achieved when we, the writers, say yes to the collective. If we sell ideas to them, the reactions would be a yes, no and 'wait, that's something else'. There is no growth on the side of the reader when he says yes. They already know those things so they would not bother to scrutinize the idea: but still, other mainstream writers offer mainstream ideas to keep their names 'mainstream'. That is the anatomy of being a sell out. A no, on the other hand, reflects only one thing and that is the passivity of the reader; his mind would not grasp the new idea. Perhaps, due to the shackle of mainstream market, he is preoccupied with the prevailing notions that is why he would not process new ones. The 'wait, that is something else' is an intellectual answer to the 'no' part. Because he scrutinized ideas, he would give time to examine a text, understand it, make it his own(or reject it) and in the end, the written words serve their purpose.

This is the case of the verse above mentioned. It suffered censorship from the religious bigots who think in literal terms. But try to examine the verse and a multitude of meaning will arise. First, the polarity of God and Satan may be questioned: no one equates God with the Devil. But what does the word God imply? Purity, justice, good, holiness and sanctity. But one can also draw implications such as restrictions and laws. God and all that He implies may draw a conclusion that in order to achieve freedom, one must be permitted to do something. On the other hand, Satan implies corruption, injustice, evil, vile and death. But he could also symbolize hedonism: a form of freedom. See the contrast? Restriction and freedom. Neither restriction nor freedom creates this world because they both shape all the affairs that make man move. And to achieve the power to grant freedom, one must have gold: treasure. No power in this world is not shaped by gold. But this is just my take; let the purity of its meaning solely to its author and the interpretation to the wise reader. Most especially to the reader whose mind dictates his yes, no and 'wait, it is something else'.

The reader's reaction upon a text reflects his intellectual level and understanding. Acceptance of words in literal level is a proof that a man does his thinking in a shallow way; preferring God and Satan to be. . . Literally God and Satan. The metaphor fails to serve the purpose. Perhaps, ignorance is founded on two ideas: the absence of initiative to think and playing with words on literal level. The crime most of the time is not upon the writer but upon the reader. They become neither God nor Satan, preferring the passive way.

But on the part of the writer, being questioned is better than being accepted or rejected. He does his job well by stirring the mind of the reader, and he provokes a discussion. Again, this is the concept of 'wait! it is something else'. There is neither controversial nor questionable article, just people who could neither accept nor analyze something. They become gods in imposing their sets of right and wrong but at the same time, a satan to the writer.

The writer, in all his honest judgment and integrity must keep a firm feet upon his ground, or else, when the torrent of rain-- or the whim of the collective-- swept over him, he would be washed away. One more thing: only dead fish swim with the current.

poetic force: a contribution

Neither Nor

By Inno

Neither God nor Satan

Creates this elusive world

And holds power

After gold.

Neither heaven nor hell

Strengthened a thousand reason

To see the moon crying

And turn those tears into sand.

Neither Good nor Bad

Can explain the purity of innocence

And hang it on the silent crime

For them to break the fragile sound.

Neither white nor black

Can paint the flawless wind

And draw one sky

To clearly color the high above.

Broken Piano

By Inno

All I want is to play this music with you forever

And nothing’s dimmer to surrender

But I’m awake to the music that gives undefined sight

To hear the pain under the night.

Farewell my friend

For you are the greatest song ever played

Like an angel wh’s watching me

And lead this heart of mine

To the path of your glorious dream

There’s a broken piano between us

And key to unlock our broken heart

For us to hear the tune of love

And fell the purity of kindness

Just between you and me

Who gave this music of time?

And sang “goodbye to the lonely me”–

Its end to our souls.

The Blood: last drop

By Vie

In the child’s eye of innocence

Witnesses the reign of fire

Bombs exploded, bombs everywhere

People screaming for help

They’re fighting for what they think is right

Even taking away one’s life

Not afraid of holding guns

Lifeless body anywhere

River of blood flows like water

Houses burning, hopes burning

Hands trying to reach for peace

Sweet laughter would never be heard

Does it have an ending

Or it would last till theblood last drop

Blue sky would never be seen.

Even light shines red in morning