Erle Frayne Argonza y Delago
Too many wars have come and gone in this eden
Some have ceased yet others rage ceaseless embers
Even the carabaos wonder when they’d end at last
As eagles say “we see no end to them from atop”
Fed up are folks and erudite ones to the sporty wars
Already in hell of poverty their hells upped
All the more like grinder tools smouldering bones
They wait for simple peace without messiahs
Weary am I too for all those bombs & gun fires
Add now the terrorists’ swaths of destruction anew
I could only sit and pray for the ascension moment
Though that sounds silly like pepperoni & chili
[Philippines, 22 April 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 peace. Show all posts
Showing posts with label peace. Show all posts
Tuesday, September 14, 2010
Wednesday, July 7, 2010
THE GUERILLA
Erle Frayne Argonza y Delago
Fine, fine is the guerilla
knows s/he that the hinterland
is an infernal zone
where the enemy’s textbook lessons
seem like lost dots and dazed calculi
in a wildly vast encyclopedia
Fine, fine is the guerilla
s/he the master of warfare’s laws
of cunny maneuvers
amid tricky foliages and fields
The guerilla
Just like culture heroes
Is a sung hero
[Writ. 04 June 91. Cubao, Quezon City, M.Manila]
Fine, fine is the guerilla
knows s/he that the hinterland
is an infernal zone
where the enemy’s textbook lessons
seem like lost dots and dazed calculi
in a wildly vast encyclopedia
Fine, fine is the guerilla
s/he the master of warfare’s laws
of cunny maneuvers
amid tricky foliages and fields
The guerilla
Just like culture heroes
Is a sung hero
[Writ. 04 June 91. Cubao, Quezon City, M.Manila]
Friday, July 2, 2010
WAR
Erle Frayne Argonza y Delago
War is the namesake of the islands
A Dantean discernment will not
Permit one to argue that
The archipelago
Is a paradise
Lost or regained
Of the islands’ fetid state
Excrement and humans sanctimoniously fuse
They cajole in ecstatic screams
Over killings and bombings
Gore is everyday’s luscious panorama
We’re brought back to Rome
Here
Where jubilant crowds satiate themselves
With sights of bloody gladiators
In combat
Brought back to Jesus’ Jerusalem still
Since everyone wants to play
Pilate
Guiltless of motives behind
Wars
In hinterlands
In cities
Is gore the imprimatur of honor indeed?
Just like blood is eaten as delicacy?
[Writ. 29 May 91, Cubao, Quezon City, M.Manila]
War is the namesake of the islands
A Dantean discernment will not
Permit one to argue that
The archipelago
Is a paradise
Lost or regained
Of the islands’ fetid state
Excrement and humans sanctimoniously fuse
They cajole in ecstatic screams
Over killings and bombings
Gore is everyday’s luscious panorama
We’re brought back to Rome
Here
Where jubilant crowds satiate themselves
With sights of bloody gladiators
In combat
Brought back to Jesus’ Jerusalem still
Since everyone wants to play
Pilate
Guiltless of motives behind
Wars
In hinterlands
In cities
Is gore the imprimatur of honor indeed?
Just like blood is eaten as delicacy?
[Writ. 29 May 91, Cubao, Quezon City, M.Manila]
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