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]