Wednesday, June 30, 2010


Erle Frayne Argonza y Delago

The still calm of the morning
Is as deafening as stories
About crimes
Printed in the dailies
Broadcast on radio

Crime has become the cheapest
Flaunted by its own law
Of supply and demand
Its price roughshodly lowered
By abundance
More abundant
Than mangoes and guavas

They need not be bought at all
So much that even the harmless streets
Of recluse villages
Become zoos
Littered with

[Writ. 29 May 1991, Cubao, Quezon City, M.Manila]


Erle Frayne Argonza y Delago

A key
Inserted on a doorknob
Cannot turn itself
Someone has to be
It’s turning’s progenitor

If indeed a key
Turns a doorknob
By itself?

‘Tis like asking
If a cockroach can
Push an elephant
Or if a gentle breeze can
Knockout a sturdy house

It coheres with the circumstance
When a ball rests and bounces
At the same time

When the slightly probable
Fills the observer’s eyes
As an inescapable vista of verdant forests
Green and lucidly green

[Writ. 29 May 91, Cubao, Quezon City, M.Manila]


Erle Frayne Argonza y Delago

Fate could be embezzler and crook
If bribed it could be
‘Tis when one cuts his/her throat and snuffs
Out life as one cold stone.
Yet fate and life are holy lovers
Self, the blinding love
Inane would be the earth’s own twirling be
If this code wasn’t found.

This itch to knife the body, like
Fly that scans excrement
Will flee when reason for it shies away
When swatters swarm the heaps
That is when one has bridged the self
To the crafting of the world anew
Behold! The diadems in people’s hearts!
Await everyone’s countenance
Like cornfields that a day shan’t miss
Without showers gently sent
By pious clouds from heaven’s floors
Undone is the sizzling heat
And then no more will knifing the body
Ever cross the willful mind.

[Writ. 27 May 91, Cubao, Quezon City, M.Manila]


Erle Frayne Argonza y Delago

What ought I write again
On this blank page in front of me?
Blank is my mind as a clear
Tabularasa: empty is the world, a dot
On its circumscribed face

Without an iota of an image
On its being.
Fertile is the night.
Cockroaches dance gaily to proclaim
So. What now would preoccupy
The mind?

Frigid is the pen. It cannot roll on
To herald the hymns and notes
Fervently brewing deep in the vats
Of my inner space: thoughts have receded
Without the usual romance with the pen.

[Writ. 27 May 91, Cubao, Quezon City, M.Manila]

Monday, June 28, 2010


Erle Frayne Argonza y Delago

Break, break through the barrier
Betwixt time and timelessness!
Descend upon Terra’s mortal face!
Nestle in the minds of knowers
Who’ll catch you a-glide!
As to your catchers who know not
One another, perfect strangers
Illuminate them with your radiance!
A holy fire you are and ever
To all men you’re passed a-glow.

That you land on different mortal
Baskets at one time and only one
Is cause enough for bafflement
For both simpleton and erudite.

But your stately arrival exudes greater kingliness
Then the wondrous enigma you’ve aroused
Risen have you from beneath time’s antechambers
To exterminate the nebulae of ignorance.

[Writ. 27 May 91, Cubao, Quezon City, M.Manila]


Erle Frayne Argonza y Delago

Shall we again rendezvous
As the rains and leaves do
To the month of June?

Of what romance are we to partake
When neither of us sees at all
The shadow
Nor hears news and whereabouts
Of one another?

Behold! Walls of time have been built
Between us. The chance of communicating
With one another
Had been buried
In catacombs
Complete with dirges.

[Writ. 27 May 91, Cubao, Quezon City, M.Manila]


Erle Frayne Argonza y Delago

Where are you, sweetest lady?
Long had passed since my heart’s Cupid beating
For you was at its zenith.
You are a living ghost that appears
Ceaselessly on the panoramic screen
Of my cognitive antechambers.
Do our thoughts and hears still meet
Betwixt undefined time and spaces
Like blended waves of twin satellites
Long cut off from
Their umbilical cords?
Or am I just churning reveries
Of a love flame long deadened
By oblivion’s deoxidizing waters?
Please tarry not the questioning
Or goner would be my fate.

[Writ. 27 May 91, Cubao, Quezon City, M.Manila]

Wednesday, June 23, 2010


Erle Frayne Argonza y Delago

Far apart are two minds who’d never
Caught a glimpse of each other’s name
‘Til one day
Unbeknown to them
A same shooting star of an idea
Visited both of them amid
Blankets of dazzling light.

They are both
Children of twinned situations
Whose midwife is

[Writ. 27 May 91, Cubao, Quezon City, M.Manila]


Erle Frayne Argonza y Delago

Mood is pokered by afterthought
Of exercises in a gymn. ‘Tis a

Moment when one has no opinion
Or feelings for anything
Feelings are most unwanted scavengers
Let them not descend upon the self on this

Just listen to sweet music
Of fast and slow beats
Their messages, garbled and drowned in one’s
Unfeeling state.

Just let time past away

[Writ. 24 May 91, Cubao, Quezon City, M.Manila]


Erle Frayne Argonza y Delago

When the sun shines up yonder
Smiling, greeting smilingly
When birds chirp ceaselessly
Singing, singing soothingly
When ants traverse infinite treks
Working, laboring joyously
When feathery clouds hover above
Hand-waving, gleefully hand-waving
When the cool breeze fills up spaces
Whistling,merrily whistling

Come has the moment of meditation fulfilled
A blessing for the self
When morning’s truly a generous friend
Like a zillion angels, benign provider

[Writ. 24 May 91, Cubao, Quezon City, M.Manila]

GO IMMORTAL! (For Lino Brocka)

Erle Frayne Argonza y Delago

The body dies, not the person.
Gone is your body alright

As birds announce at night
That gone is the sun
They ought to rest.

Your person, ‘tis a sublime conveyor
Of manifold messages and undying lore
Letters that spoke clearly to the unlettered
And the unlettered, to the lettered
Person is the perfect herald of life
The unlettered at last had eyes
And ears that stretched out to
Infinite worlds a-speaking: we ought make
Justice work finely, infinitely.

Go now, immortal!
Merge with the immense field of the kosmos!
A field without brims
Like you are to your fellowmen.
Rested and gone, be assured
The world will sing tunes of praises
For you a truly glorious countenance
You are a marvelous anthem remembered

[Writ. 24 May 91, Cubao,Quezon City, M.Manila]

Monday, June 21, 2010


Erle Frayne Argonza y Delago

Tire not, o! sweet mother of mine!
You can never go tired and dreary
Your dawning has yet to show up
Your longevity a million revolutions of Earth yet.

You have travelled too long indeed to make
Your children secured in this world
And abode of monstrous traps
Where unprepared initiates like helpless tots
And teens may unwarily step in undone
In life. You were a shield indeed
Moreso a loving nurturing voice
Of a zillion angels all
A Joan o’Arc for your children.

You cannot tire now
Long will be your pathways yet
And you are already enshrined
In our hearts, beknighted lady.

[Writ. 15 May 1991, Cubao, Quezon City, M.Manila]


Erle Frayne Argonza y Delago

When is body strong and sturdy
But on occasions of rhythmic rounds
To sweatshops o’ physique’s crafting.

You are the sculptor your body wood
That you will shape with exquisite beauty and
Undisguised strength.

Your shaped physique is one authentic
Samson: it will mortally slaughter
Time as it reposes its own morgue;
Cremated is the browbeating fatigue
You are to your Self no cynic
Smoothened are the chances for your wishes
To do myriad works unlimitedly.

Like a true sculptor fulfilled
In its shaping, you are t’ward your
Physical frame.

[Writ. 15 May 1991, Cubao, Quezon City,M.Manila]


Erle Frayne Argonza y Delago

They took him away from me
This canine friend of mine
Whose time a-living was tied up to me
We were one a-corded knot
When ‘twas of tender age ‘twas one
Nurtured by me with a peer’s affection

Upon its
I was there on the dot for these tasks
So was there this loving canine to police
The night for kins and myself

Gone it is, stolen
So is the cord broken
And my heart beaten.

[Writ. 15 May 91, Cubao, Quezon City, M.Manila]


Erle Frayne Argonza y Delago

Warm is the day of summer.
The city’s drenched with sweat
Much more for humans
Sweats abound as unwanted flies
On the surface of sticky skin
Sticky is the summer’s day.

Warm yet blessed is the summer’s day.
The hot sun indeed bakes the skin a-gruel
Yet so does it burn all malignant germs
They quiver like it were their last
Winter, on a summer’s day
The signs of sickness shy away.

The body is a sturdy rock
Unreached by echoes of ailments
Only echoes of joy a-fleeting on a summer’s day.

[Writ. 15 May 1991, Cubao, Quezon City, M.Manila]

Wednesday, June 16, 2010


Erle Frayne Argonza y Delago

Farewell, beloved Grandfather!

I should have seen you
Yet but fate has not
Spared me the permission
To be delivered to you airlifted
Fate’s the traffic lights of for flights
T’wards your citadel on Terra

I will still dialogue with you
In my dreams, in dreams
You are a living memory
Of my youth and your wisdom charmed
And mixed like fused ions

Here I am, your founded vision
I am, I swear.

[Writ. 14 May ’91, Cubao, Quezon City, M.Manila]


Erle Frayne Argonza y Delago

You will come back, o! lost craft!
You were drowned in the great deluge
Where faith in self lost its scepter
To turbulent waves of underesteem
Faith has lost faith!

You are not lost!
Nothing is
Lost, not a craft that burns
The nights that owls had no monopoly
Over, beat your own despair!
Rise and ride astride the new tidal waves!

Find the whirlpool from the deep recesses!
Twill pull you up
To where bubbles are on sea surfs’ tops
Afloat you shall be
You are your own life saver


[Writ. 14 May ‘99, Cubao, Quezon City, MManila]


Erle Frayne Argonza y Delago

Why do I love you so dearly?
As if love were an omnipresent elixir
From the teapots of Eros
Its fading is now next to impossible?
Certainly and o! so certainly because
You’ve been a person unto me who
Never ran out of kindness
Never ran out of reasonableness
Never ran out of sweetness
And so you deserve my love and tenderness.

O! Sweet daughter of the race of Zarathustra!
Behold! I’ve come for you! I am a gift
A present by my forebears Apollo and Dionysos.
I’ve come armed with the edict of my Will—
Evoked is my will to Love!
I am a harbinger of the Shadow—
The benign shadow of Love
That ceaselessly follows you:
It has been anchored in your bosom.

The forces of the Past can’t seem to leave you
Even as the Future now knocks upon your present
But the Past will be incinerated by its own twilight
And the Future gleefully glides before your countenance.
Shudder not with the sight of the Future
You shall find the door to its halls
And I’m the guardian who’d patiently waited for you
I’d lead you to Future’s spaces where we
Shall celebrate our affinity with dances
And fancies.
The Future will be delighted as we’ll dance
Together on its sacred floor
And Love’s the tune that we as ordained
Lovers never can ignore.

[Writ. 20 Jan.’89, U.P. Village, Quezon City, M.Manila]


Erle Frayne Argonza y Delago

Welcome, most devastating Tempest!
I’ve been expecting your arrival. Do again
Try to smash my Will and sap my strength with your
Diabolic winds, undersea currents and tsunamis.
Let us, while the universe watches, dance together
With no choreography: you are destroyer of all laws.
Crash me, crash me till the hardest of my bones
And inner strength will erode and fade away
To become lore that will no longer fit to be narrated…
That is, if fortune is on your side.
But Tempest, I am the architect of situations,
The productive zenith of sorceries of a million magi,
The master slayer of demons and dragons
That attempted to waylay me on my journeys.
Tempest, never have I lost to you, never have I
Pleaded that you depart from me when you’re around
As when you were present a hundred times before.
I have become cast as the hardest steel
Each time that you’ve made your visit.
Come, Tempest! Make your call once, twice and
A thousand more times: witness me as I again transform
Your powerful forces into ones that will steer me ahead—
Five steps backward and ten steps forward, I’m never
Off-balanced at all by your potent tormenting winds.
Feel me,Tempest, I’m overly cast
I’ve become a super-Tempest whose everyday dream is
To ensnare you as a slave and outcaste.

[Writ. 08 Jan.89, U.P. Village, Quezon City, M.Manila]


Erle Frayne Argonza y Delago

No, lost shan’t you be.
Not when the voltages of inspiration’s currents
Flow like undiminished floods of recurrent
Seawaves upon imagination’s canvasses.

Let me find and catch you
In your deep slumber: ‘tis not your sad departure.
You’ve bid me no goodbye, not that I remember.

O! Poetic instinct of my inner chambers!
Come out of your doors when I have
Need of your benevolent company.

[Writ. 08 Jan.’88, U.P. Village, Quezon City, M.Manila]

Friday, June 4, 2010

DON’T OFFER ME DIRGES (I’m But A Slum Habitue)

Erle Frayne Argonza y Delago

Don’t offer me dirges or marches for graveyards
I am no more a rat eater whose niche
Is this make-shift tenement, no longer
Human by the yardsticks of Grecian perfection
And Roman artistry, a fragment too unfit
For the wholeness of Renaissance’s imageries.

May I invite to dinner my neighborhood’s constant visitors
From state halls and army barracks
Who on not too few occasions offered me
And my neighbors their version of a gift:
Bulldozed tenements and shanties leveled off
Spiced with gunfire that severed resistance.

Felled boys and dead bodies of urban poor
Anyway deserve not the hymns of public praises,
Praises long reserved for princes and taipans.
History’s everyday indeed can’t seem to be
An asset shared by all men alike.

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


Erle Frayne Argonza y Delago

Welcome, Prometheus!
Descend upon the pillars and corridors of Academia!
Have your merriment and feasts among
The expectant adherents of your holy fire.
Illuminate the residents of Academia with your
Undying light: mana of reason and knowledge.
Awaken us to the flowering consciousness of the knower
As your light fires up the longing lamps of us all.
Remain! Linger on! Let your sacred essence be
Of the inherited Elixir of our triumphant march
Along Life’s trek!
Happy at last will be Zeus over our sublime fraternity.

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


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]


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]


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]


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]


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]


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]