Erle Frayne Argonza y Delago
O! Father-Mother! Holiest of all Divinities!
Let this humble rishi offer thoughts of praises
Thank Thee so much for graces wisdom will
For inspiration care compassion Self to wean
Behold! This humble soul had climbed the heights
Thanks to the opportune moments bounties too
The will to shape myself like sculptor crafting
The Self from rough stone sculpted now so fine
Till finally at sojourn’s end am a Star at last
My Light Body activated shining like lantern
So mighty a Being is this Oversoul of mine
Can heal and take down devils with balls of Light
Ensue yet my own humble missions of hands on
Spread the holy Teaching to enthused seekers
Protect them mighty well from demons hostile
Till they move forward ascend to higher climes
What more to say to my true Father-Mother
Immeasurable love and graces always offered
Like cascading waters graces nourished me
Never in want as I’ve to missions ensued
A zillion thanks o! Mother-Father o’ all!
More thanks to come as sojourn more will I
One day to do more missions upon thy calling
To Thee a humble servant will I ever be
[Philippines, 05 May 2010]
[See: IKONOKLAST: http://erleargonza.blogspot.com,
UNLADTAU: http://unladtau.wordpress.com,
COSMICBUHAY: http://cosmicbuhay.blogspot.com,
BRIGHTWORLD: http://erlefraynebrightworld.wordpress.com, ARTBLOG: http://erleargonza.wordpress.com,
ARGONZAPOEM: http://argonzapoem.blogspot.com]
Showing posts with label liberation. Show all posts
Showing posts with label liberation. Show all posts
Sunday, November 7, 2010
Wednesday, July 28, 2010
UNIVERSITY CLASSROOM
Erle Frayne Argonza y Delago
A noble ground it is this wondrous room
Where enthused adepts wait in seats a-poised
While mentor fills the air with notes a-flamed
That conquer maladies Ignorance had unveiled
Said conquest needs complete obeisance then
To reason and empirics’ tones of truth
Without which otherwise all things fall ‘part
As dark as what yon Medieval had cast
Sacred! Sacred is this noble ground we’re in
Where flaunted are ideas in liberty fulfilled
Where rigodons of reflection bring emancipation
Eschewed are dogmas—ikons’ benediction
How cool the air from humming fan is blown
Reminds us thus of sunlit valleys warm as old
Where there descend cool breezes from boondocks’ heights
Relieved is tensed up mental bank of yours
Sometimes the heat flack up thermometer’s gauge
Bring swelter hence to enthused minds a-blazed
Alright just mind not that which puts one a-glazed
For cool will be dear mentor’s words unfazed
Let there be praises for all women and men
Who’d fuse their minds in this Platonic den
Should they have grasped so well each lesson learned
Their worlds off walls would better be in zest
[Writ. 02 March 92, University of the Philippines Manila]
A noble ground it is this wondrous room
Where enthused adepts wait in seats a-poised
While mentor fills the air with notes a-flamed
That conquer maladies Ignorance had unveiled
Said conquest needs complete obeisance then
To reason and empirics’ tones of truth
Without which otherwise all things fall ‘part
As dark as what yon Medieval had cast
Sacred! Sacred is this noble ground we’re in
Where flaunted are ideas in liberty fulfilled
Where rigodons of reflection bring emancipation
Eschewed are dogmas—ikons’ benediction
How cool the air from humming fan is blown
Reminds us thus of sunlit valleys warm as old
Where there descend cool breezes from boondocks’ heights
Relieved is tensed up mental bank of yours
Sometimes the heat flack up thermometer’s gauge
Bring swelter hence to enthused minds a-blazed
Alright just mind not that which puts one a-glazed
For cool will be dear mentor’s words unfazed
Let there be praises for all women and men
Who’d fuse their minds in this Platonic den
Should they have grasped so well each lesson learned
Their worlds off walls would better be in zest
[Writ. 02 March 92, University of the Philippines Manila]
Monday, July 26, 2010
EMBLEM OF THE DUST
Erle Frayne Argonza y Delago
I am but the emblem of the dust
Blown smoothly away by the wind.
Born from out of the dust
Where rests the cosmic elements
Over a century known in all;
Nurtured within the womb of Terra
Mother of all Mothers;
Delivered as seed by Firmament’s demiurgos
The ultima pater noster;
So was I born, a dust.
Chartered was my life through sojourns
By my Self
Betwixt worlds
Of shadows and sunlit dales
I the dust, I the crafter.
Molded was I so exquisitely humane
Betwixt cast of the hardest metals
Harder than Bernardo Carpio’s will
Was I nurtured out extruded
I am my own furnace, my dust I am.
Founded was I a warrior
Crafted in the trade of the blade
Whose countenance is blanketed with Courage
A most scarce diadem;
Bear I the Will to thrust the majestic sword
Unto the fleshy morsels of obstacles
Conceived by Existence, Uncertainty, Death
That I rise, am I arisen
I a dust, yet a Warrior.
Blown forth am I the dust
Blown forth by my own Will
Astride winds sunbeams waters
Ne’er fixed and transfixed neither
By mischievous forces of diabolical climes
Now dust am I, my Will wind
‘Tis my starship to galactic
Worlds of humans.
What has come to pass in my biographic trails?
My Past and Future, of what constructs made of?
They I’ve myself made
I the baker who’s always been attending
To chores of my oven’s commands
I’ve had my whereabouts made
Even as Future and Past cancel out
In the nothingness of the Omnipresent Present:
Time is but non-Time altogether
A leaf that has crumpled in its own face
‘Tis but a premise of one who’s never lived
So is it a pest that distracts awhile
And later fornicates in its death traps.
What’s the most illustriously true
But that I the dust was ever present
In time as time to me was spent a-non
I therefore live forever.
I’d gazed at the celestial mirror
And glanced at Eternal Thou
Or was it? Eternal Thou? What’s it?
A chimera derived from my own image?
An extract from the prurient I?
Or is it the whole Kosmos focused
In the magnificent galactic lens so said?
O! Kosmos! O! Nature! You are Eternal!
Am I Thou?
Please whisper the answer softly
In my ear
Amid the hypnotic melodies
Of the celestial music…
I so earnestly await thy response!
Wherefore the dust shall have gone forth
In the tapestries and gourdian knots of Nature
To be a part of and yet not
Of elements among whom it had immersed
As the Ego does to the countless Alters
It “Is” now and yet “Is Not”
A concrete now and yet a phantom as well
The moving and the rested wedded together
It is, it is such, it is
For and only for it to scale altitudes
To where it fuses with the bounds of its source
It is the changeling, the changeling
That dons the matterly cloak: the Kosmos
Of which it Is:
The Iota and the Whole are One.
Henceforth shall it have known
The All and the Self
Finale regal of its sacred mission.
That I am: the dust
Caringly blown away by the wind.
[Writ. 19 Feb. ‘92, Cubao, Quezon City, M.Manila]
I am but the emblem of the dust
Blown smoothly away by the wind.
Born from out of the dust
Where rests the cosmic elements
Over a century known in all;
Nurtured within the womb of Terra
Mother of all Mothers;
Delivered as seed by Firmament’s demiurgos
The ultima pater noster;
So was I born, a dust.
Chartered was my life through sojourns
By my Self
Betwixt worlds
Of shadows and sunlit dales
I the dust, I the crafter.
Molded was I so exquisitely humane
Betwixt cast of the hardest metals
Harder than Bernardo Carpio’s will
Was I nurtured out extruded
I am my own furnace, my dust I am.
Founded was I a warrior
Crafted in the trade of the blade
Whose countenance is blanketed with Courage
A most scarce diadem;
Bear I the Will to thrust the majestic sword
Unto the fleshy morsels of obstacles
Conceived by Existence, Uncertainty, Death
That I rise, am I arisen
I a dust, yet a Warrior.
Blown forth am I the dust
Blown forth by my own Will
Astride winds sunbeams waters
Ne’er fixed and transfixed neither
By mischievous forces of diabolical climes
Now dust am I, my Will wind
‘Tis my starship to galactic
Worlds of humans.
What has come to pass in my biographic trails?
My Past and Future, of what constructs made of?
They I’ve myself made
I the baker who’s always been attending
To chores of my oven’s commands
I’ve had my whereabouts made
Even as Future and Past cancel out
In the nothingness of the Omnipresent Present:
Time is but non-Time altogether
A leaf that has crumpled in its own face
‘Tis but a premise of one who’s never lived
So is it a pest that distracts awhile
And later fornicates in its death traps.
What’s the most illustriously true
But that I the dust was ever present
In time as time to me was spent a-non
I therefore live forever.
I’d gazed at the celestial mirror
And glanced at Eternal Thou
Or was it? Eternal Thou? What’s it?
A chimera derived from my own image?
An extract from the prurient I?
Or is it the whole Kosmos focused
In the magnificent galactic lens so said?
O! Kosmos! O! Nature! You are Eternal!
Am I Thou?
Please whisper the answer softly
In my ear
Amid the hypnotic melodies
Of the celestial music…
I so earnestly await thy response!
Wherefore the dust shall have gone forth
In the tapestries and gourdian knots of Nature
To be a part of and yet not
Of elements among whom it had immersed
As the Ego does to the countless Alters
It “Is” now and yet “Is Not”
A concrete now and yet a phantom as well
The moving and the rested wedded together
It is, it is such, it is
For and only for it to scale altitudes
To where it fuses with the bounds of its source
It is the changeling, the changeling
That dons the matterly cloak: the Kosmos
Of which it Is:
The Iota and the Whole are One.
Henceforth shall it have known
The All and the Self
Finale regal of its sacred mission.
That I am: the dust
Caringly blown away by the wind.
[Writ. 19 Feb. ‘92, Cubao, Quezon City, M.Manila]
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