SPEAK O! FELICITOUS LADY!

SPEAK O! FELICITOUS LADY!

Erle Frayne Argonza y Delago

Speak to me, dear Friend!

Are you a ghost—a ghost of Light—

That smashes the granite rocks of masks

I’ve upon myself built with esteem’s cement?

Speak! Lady chronicler of the inner theatres!

Behold! We need no longer pass along

This world’s tortuous roads as our monads fuse—

Yours and mine, mine and yours.

Regain shall I my own pure unbesmirched

Halo of intelligence and will and aspiration:

You are the sacred moment that fertilizes

Again like unto growing buds of verdant lores

This sanctified shadow of my inner theatre.

Speak! Lady of the free spirits!

Quench my thirst for tales of delight!

You are the tale, the bringer of delight,

The ultimate acting being in the Thespian stage.

Receive my swearword: I offer

To you the wakened ghost of mine, once more

To amplify your limitless experiencing of the magic

In the world of humans; my words, planted and grown

[Writ. 19 November 1988, Proj. 8, Quezon City, M.Manila]

THY WILL BE DONE

THY WILL BE DONE

Erle Frayne Argonza y Delago

Whenever the day starts I knock

Upon the doors of Life to request extensions

Of my lease to exist. Not that I

Will be merry forever notwithstanding fears

Tensions and anxieties that arise

In my here-and-now; I’m simply unsure

Of what may be up for me. Well, Life

Responded as always—cheerful, lighthearted,

Contagiously optimistic. I’d catch its air

Of glittering hope, daunting spirit,

Its elan of all elan. The I’d say too,

“Life, please do share unto others what you’re

Offered to me.” “Thy will be done” said Life.

Thy will be done. Done will be

Hope’s cremation of every unwanted carcass

Of Obscurity: faith in self regained.

[Writ. 21 October 1988, Proj. 8, Quezon City, M.Manila]

MORNING RHYTHM

MORNING RHYTHM

Erle Frayne Argonza y Delago

Silence breaks

Morning mist

Meets the day anew in sweet embrace

Birds aflight

Cats shall rest

As the sun erases evening’s haze.

Buses roll

Flies a-swarm

Off abound they’re freed from bottle’s cork.

Grandpas sneer

Dads consume

Coffee and news pages before work.

Crackers crack

Mobiles whine

Hospitals’ own occupants balloon.

Traffic grows

Roads go blocked

Terrified policeman act like goon.

Planes arrive

Flyers rest

Peddlers sell their wares with lemonade.

Bags prepared

Pockets swing

Joy’s corrupt official’s mood in trade.

[Writ. 19 October 1988, Proj. 8, Quezon City, M.Manila]

WHEN DEMOCRACY COMES

WHEN DEMOCRACY COMES

Erle Frayne Argonza y Delago

Land of ours! You’re bent on reminding

Us anew: that our Sentinels again

Will rob us clear of our well-earned

Civil rights and arrogate for themselves

All powers of government.

So what? Yes, so what?

Will democracy become so weary

As to naively recline upon coal embers

That are our Sentinels’ hearts?

Has democracy anyway flowered

Into full bloom in your soil as to assure

Your history’s place in the citadels

Of human grandeur?

Land of ours! Relay these utterances

To the vanguards of treachery:

Democracy is verily like a fruit

That has ripened in the beings

Of the workingmen in shops and farms:

A dazzling show twill manifest

As it finally blooms to maturity

And edifices of fascistic greed twill

Burn down to remain as ashes forever

A signal to all humanity of your

Patriots’ repute as victors and

You: a bastion of freedom bearers.

[Writ. 13 October 1988, Proj. 8, Quezon City, M.Manila]

DON’T SLEEP TONIGHT O! CITY LIGHTS!

DON’T SLEEP TONIGHT O! CITY LIGHTS!

Erle Frayne Argonza y Delago

May the glowing lights at night

Not stop at all for rest or sleeps.

Beware! Beware!

Snakes are bound to strike

When patriots of most noble faith

Sense slimmest the hordes of traitors;

Sentinels we’ve long trusted

May ride astride lightning bolt

To incinerate our dens of freedom

And leave the lores of democracy

To the nothingness of decay.

Tyranny is ripe once more, a fruit

The would-be autocrats savor the best.

O! City lights!

Please don’t sleep at night!

[Writ. 13 October 1988, Proj. 8, Quezon City, M.Manila]

RADIO’S MALAISE

RADIO’S MALAISE

Erle Frayne Argonza y Delago

Radio should be a gentle mentor

whose teachings we take as our own

as we cherish each fact and fable

that it offers us canned lessons;

but Radio is consumed up

by its seeking for money and profits

as every sound that it releases

makes us believe that we are in New York

or London or elsewhere other than Filipinas.

Alien sounds can only nurture best

the filthiest image of our national stature.

[Writ. 07 October 1988, Proj. 8, Quezon City, M.Manila]

THE SUN OUR KIN

THE SUN OUR KIN

Erle Frayne Argonza y Delago

It’s true the Sun will lay to rest

On the day’s end after his toil

And give way to the nighttime hours

When ravagers despoil amid our slumbers

But sure enough the morning comes

And Sun radiates our Land anew

Each smile he sports enervates our longings

For better times of wealth and wellbeing

He never tires to shed us rays of care

He never retreats without sharing heraldries

Of what our strivings will bring forth

A sturdier and well esteemed commonwealth

He shall ever be there when we need him

A kin indeed our light of liberty

[Writ. 07 October 1988, Proj. 8, Quezon City, M.Manila]

WHY MOTHERLAND?

WHY MOTHERLAND?

Erle Frayne Argonza y Delago

Why ought we call Motherland

The cradle of us loyal citizens?

Why not just call it Land

For the sake of propriety and brevity?

Likewise we shan’t label Fatherland

Each lustrous land of alien conquerors

Who enslaved our forbears in servitude

Over epochs of lamentable tribulations.

A Mother is she who never dares forsake

Her children whom she lovingly nourishes.

And yet all children grow to bid farewell

To the hardships of infantile life

And so to bid farewell as well

To the Mother who soon faces retirement.

Habits of old are hard to die

Like thoughts on Motherland or Fatherland

Even as we’re not overgrown infants

Of a country that professes eternal Motherhood

And neither could we all say farewell

To our benign Land: our Provider.

[Writ. 06 October 1988, Proj. 8, Quezon City, M.Manila]

LOVE’S MURMUR

LOVE’S MURMUR

Erle Frayne Argonza y Delago

I hear the murmur of love

Like rattles of tree branches.

It is coming, marching triumphantly

On the ground of eternal merriment.

It seizes me, bless of my wishes,

It its delightful gallows of wonderment.

It’s message clear—“Heed my call!”

To my woman ‘tis selflessly shared.

[Writ. 24 July 1988, Proj. 8, Quezon City, M.Manila]

SENTIMENTS FROM EROS

SENTIMENTS FROM EROS

Erle Frayne Argonza y Delago

Sentiments from Eros’ royal house

Here it lies within my being.

A chasm it shall try to bridge

And warm up your cold heart a-glow.

It will grow, it will merge

From the shadows of the iceberg’s underneath.

It will seek its proper moorings

In your heart it is wont

To nestle; only in your heart or nevermore.

[Writ. 24 July 1988, Proj. 8, Quezon City, M.Manila.]

WISH SHE COMES O! COCONUT TREE!

WISH SHE COMES O! COCONUT TREE!

Erle Frayne Argonza y Delago

Wish for me O! Coconut Tree!

Of benign Filipinas that She comes in beauty

Her luggage filled to the brims

With love and tenderness. Let her caress

My longing heart. I shall meet her

Under your secure shade O! Coconut Tree!

Where we shall pledge the vow

Of eternal sharing of trust and care;

A bnd you’ll judge with favors

One stroke like a million devoted caretakers’.

[Writ. 19 June 1988, Proj. 8, Quezon City, M.Manila]

JUAN’S NIGHTMARE

JUAN’S NIGHTMARE

Erle Frayne Argonza y Delago

Sleeping while inner rage brews

Inside one’s cognitive vat does not make

A sleep the fulfillment of a day’s toil.

Not for Juan the unlettered and dispossessed

Whose wretchedness is a correlate of wealth

Amassed by his other brothers whose

Purses and stocks do bulge ad infinitum.

Not for Juan. Reserved inner rage

Sooner unfolds into a thousand nightmares:

Spoiled is the timeless joy of dream’s utopia.

[Writ. 19 June 1988, Proj. 8, Quezon City, M.Manila]

FAREWELL TO A DECEASED KIN

FAREWELL TO A DECEASED KIN

Erle Frayne Argonza y Delago

 

History is Judge and Witness

to the truth that my heart is ne’er

A nest of

Resentment

for you o! deceased kin

You were never a

Creator of terror and trouble

nor villain are you for the anguish

you’d upon me outpoured from time to time

No resentment!

Be in peace as the Dove that is now

your fulfilled state.

Farewell!

[Writ. 11 June 1988, Proj. 8, Quezon City, M.Manila]

CADAVER’S BIOGRAPHY

CADAVER’S BIOGRAPHY

Erle Frayne Argonza y Delago

vermin upon vermin gather in mounds

undistinguished from the morsel

felled by it’s ego’s date with Grim Ripper

25, 50, 100, etc

are found without names in named or unnamed

cemeteries

uncelebrated figures

are puzzles that are delightful to civil

libertarians’ appetites for enigmas

--shadows without tales

or felled bodies do have sagas of pain

or joy unaffected by the Roman slaughter

of holy and unholy souls on Golgotha’s foot

[Writ. 11 June 1988, Proj. 8, Quezon City, M.Manila]

MARSHES OF CANDABA

MARSHES OF CANDABA

 Erle Argonza y Delago

When hawks and other living flyers

Set foot on swampy fields for feeding

Tis a marvelous sight that glows the eyes

As mark of platonic appreciation

Where muddy waters used to fill

The air with constant foul-smelling vapors

And gift the neighboring men and women

With malaria and ailments and more

And leave no space that’s fertile enough

For crops and edible greens

And there vehicles run agog

When torrents bring oceanic floods

No more is this worthy of anyone’s esteem

Than to ignore it for its fecal state

Melons and fruits and rice now abound

In this once noxious forbidden land

No more is Hope rekindled the better

Than on the marshes of Candaba

Fly! Fly! Beloved Eagle to the peasant’s nest!

And laud him with your hymns of joy

For his victorious heartwarming travails on swamps

Indeed make him a true human champion.

[Writ. 06 June 1988, Proj. 8, Quezon City, M.Manila]

POLICEMAN

POLICEMAN

Erle Frayne Argonza y Delago

Policeman! Throngs of multitudes are

Waiting for your return to civility!

On account of the erosion of your image

As a reliable enforcer of statutes

By your recalcitrant engagements in

Extortions and rackets and every condemnable

Act that are well perceived by the periscopic oculars

Of the consummate public;

Come home, policeman! Come home

To the moral niche of civility!

For to extract money from laboring motorists

Traders and pedlars who may no more

Be better than the poorest fellows

Of yours whose every cent that you

Embezzle will accrue to the rupture

Of the noblest dignity;

Come home, policeman! Come home

To the powerhouse of civility!

For to bust striking workingment or to

Train guns on dissenting marchers or to

Equate to criminal acts those that are

Worthy of appreciation as they are

Motivated by desires for justice

Will cost you your sweet acceptance

By the same people whom you ought to protect;

Come home, policeman! Come home to

The sanctuary of civility!

People are surely waiting for you

Not excluding the gunslinging predators

Who are out to snatch your life

For your treachery and malevolence.

[Writ. 06 June, AUF, Angeles City, Pampanga]

WHEN YOU NEED A NEWS REPORT

WHEN YOU NEED A NEWS REPORT

Erle Frayne Argonza y Delago

If you’ve gone through a commotion

Or an accident of sorts

And you feel the urge to summon

Newsreporters to the scripts

Ah! Don’t ever waste your sweat

On thick layered phone directories

To call on foreign newsmen to the fore

For these souls today are hounded

On cryptic suspicions of support

They give to rebels on the hills

You might as well call up the hounders

Who are craftsmen of psywar ars

Who don’t matter if 1,000 differs from 10,000

Or whether Mr X didn’t or did commit Action Y

For as long as reports serve the purpose

Of fueling more wars and battle gores

And inflate the raison d’etre

Of brave regimentation and war mania

[Writ. 06 June 1988, AUF, Angeles City, Pampanga]

SIMPLE WORDS

SIMPLE WORDS

Erle Frayne Argonza y Delago

In every production of my pen

Of full narrative or poem

I’m compelled to write in simple

Words that folks could comprehend

It’s no joke to dazzle minds

With jargons and magical words

For just like magic on a wand’s stroke

Will make the denouement outpace

The cognition of the enthusiastic viewer

Will only obscure the thought presented

And leave the consciousness dangling

On rotten vines of superstition and illusion

For I’m supposed to offer

Lines that shatter false images

It’s so that every undertaking

Of thinking and imagining

Will irradiate the knowing viewer

With rays of clarity and concreteness

[Writ. 06 June 1988, Angeles City, Pampanga, on a visit to the Angeles University Foundation.]

STA. ANA

STA. ANA

Erle Frayne Argonza y Delago

Cranes atop carabaos at work

Amid endless sights of rice fields

That merge with the mountains on their brims

Where thick canopies of trees add color

To the green canvass of the picturesque scenery

Here are the trademarks of the path

To Sta. Ana the forthcoming legend.

Reached by land from arterial roads

Where the traveler’s exhaustion is gaily relieved

By the vista of the cool blue sea

A limitless basin aplenty

With marine basics and exotics.

Soon there shall rise an industrial

Enclave whose merchandise will be sold

To foreign lands and peoples.

Fisherfolk, planters and workingmen meet

There in an unintended league

To realize that beauteous and bountiful

Nature and profitable shops & foundries

Can’t at all conceal miserly living.

[Writ. 05 June 1988, Proj. 8, Quezon City, M.Manila]

CORDILLERA BEGGARS?

CORDILLERA BEGGARS?

Erle Frayne Argonza y Delago

O! Beloved people of Cordillera!

Please lend me true reasons

For the fact that some members

Of your proud majestic land

Now belong to beggars’ armies

In the Manila Metropolis?

I know too well that your grand mountains

Are abodes of immense wealth and lores

Of a sturdy people that has never

Been conquered nor has starved

Not the strong and tireless highlander

Who never disdains sweaty labor

And sublime service even as bountiful harvests

Are perpetually reaped for family and clan

And offered at the altar of Bathala.

Is it the handiwork of Plunder

Now magnified by the clockwork of War?

If twere so can you be extricated

From Plunderers’ predatory claws?

O! Please answer my query for you too

Are to me a noble teacher of life.

[Writ. 05 June 1988, Proj. 8, Quezon City, M.Manila]