Sunday, February 12, 2012



Erle Frayne Argonza y Delago

No one should linger in a gallery

To dance on its floor.

The Cardinal

Has spoken. The clockwork

Of deception has flung open

Its can of worms. Churchwords

Don’t always bear powers

Of ex cathedra. The cardinal is human.

Schoolboys care for ice cream and delicatessen

On their classes’ end

They do not read their books’ pages’ lines

Nor recite oral tests to their masterteacher.

School breaks are not school days.


Are trapped int eh underground.

They do fall

And they’ve fallen before

As before had their minds

Been preset to consume instinctively

Their warehouses’ rummaged goods:

The goods are dwindling and no more

Are these

What peoples

Notice, or wear, or prefer.

Let no one

find Christmas trees

on summertime

not on summertime!

And those songbirds from Siberia

They whose flights to the south

As winter approaches

Curiously add spices to the blowing winds

The wind drafts bear them nearer

To the equator

Where they merge with the life forms

Of the tropics

And then they’d go northward

When the icy days of their homeland dissipate

Into the blasts of warm breezes of summertime.

They only make flights upon

The summons of their wing carriers.

Even ants have trails

That are propagated by the aromatic

Odors oozed by their feet

Or the feet of their advanced seekers

In hot pursuit

Over sweet


There are no sighs of relief

On painful moments

No mimicking of sufferings

On circumstances of heightened euphoria.

For sooner as the die is cast

It reads aloud the number registered

On its face. It settles

Gracefully on the flat panel board where

It landed with few rattles.


The conquistador never epitomized the good

Nor the search for peace

The elusive end of existence.


Shan’t ever be remolded in a new image

To reappear as his own nemesis.

A glass that holds water

Will show the way to its utility

Drink the water

Drink to live

[Writ. 28 Sept. 1987, Univ. of the Philippines, QC.]

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