To see lions – ferocious, wild creatures with roars feared and respected – is a scary feat per se.
But the scarier thought comes to mind:
These lions – gargantuan and now so becoming – were once little lambs, soft-spoken, innocent lambs, sacrificial yet determined.
And that is how the food chain goes in this jungle.
And that is how these lions will always be.
Wednesday, October 28, 2009
Sunday, October 25, 2009
...
DUMAAN
Maswerte ka.
Inaalalayan ka ng tula
Binubuo sa iyo ang kanta.
Sagot ka ng kanyang mga
Panalangin
Hawak mo ang kanyang mga
mata.
Ang kamay na hindi ko maangkin,
Ang mga dasal na hindi matutupad,
Ang kantang kulang sa huni,
Ang tulang hindi makabuo ng saknong.
Maswerte pa rin ako at
KA
...
isinulat nang dumaan ka.
Maswerte ka.
Inaalalayan ka ng tula
Binubuo sa iyo ang kanta.
Sagot ka ng kanyang mga
Panalangin
Hawak mo ang kanyang mga
mata.
Ang kamay na hindi ko maangkin,
Ang mga dasal na hindi matutupad,
Ang kantang kulang sa huni,
Ang tulang hindi makabuo ng saknong.
Maswerte pa rin ako at
KA
...
isinulat nang dumaan ka.
Wednesday, October 21, 2009
...and then she hits fifteen past twelve
and then she hits it - confusing the next hour with doldrums, sleep, doldrums, nap, doldrums, weak, doldrums, droopy eyes, dolrums, yawning, doldrums, counting sheeps, doldrums - and the world, his day, is watching her minute exercise, like a coordinated reflex from a yoga session, only in slow-mo.
the day is half-way through, and the day is becoming a long stride of that magnestic quest, that hunger, for some fruitful endeavor - something mentally
edible, digestible, ah, salivating.
but at least the sight here, visually, is the stimulation of those fries, twisted and fat, delectable and yes, forbidden.
too much salt perhaps. or too much cholesterol for my heart to pump.
it's too much to bear, really. my system is about to excrete them in a matter of time - when it finally decides these fries are not worth their momentary bliss, after all. finally.
the good thing about these fries, though is that i consume them mentally, in the figurative confines of my lost digestives - at least for now, until they get excreted.
and they, these fries, the imaginative fiction that they have become - twisted and forbidden - satisfies the hunger that lurks when she hits fifteen past twelve.
the day is half-way through, and the day is becoming a long stride of that magnestic quest, that hunger, for some fruitful endeavor - something mentally
edible, digestible, ah, salivating.
but at least the sight here, visually, is the stimulation of those fries, twisted and fat, delectable and yes, forbidden.
too much salt perhaps. or too much cholesterol for my heart to pump.
it's too much to bear, really. my system is about to excrete them in a matter of time - when it finally decides these fries are not worth their momentary bliss, after all. finally.
the good thing about these fries, though is that i consume them mentally, in the figurative confines of my lost digestives - at least for now, until they get excreted.
and they, these fries, the imaginative fiction that they have become - twisted and forbidden - satisfies the hunger that lurks when she hits fifteen past twelve.
before she hits twelve...
...a lazy thought before the afternoon break - a quiet relaxing stroll in an imaginative town, an indecisive place for the lunch feast, a haunting growl of the digestives.
and that celebrated partner, that chance of the lifetime - a marriage perhaps, more so a romantic ceremony of i do's and you dont's.
and the reality that abrupts everything - the digestives.
it's famished. so are my thoughts.
one bowl of perspective to feed the mind, coming in thirty strikes of the mother hand.
and that celebrated partner, that chance of the lifetime - a marriage perhaps, more so a romantic ceremony of i do's and you dont's.
and the reality that abrupts everything - the digestives.
it's famished. so are my thoughts.
one bowl of perspective to feed the mind, coming in thirty strikes of the mother hand.
Tuesday, October 20, 2009
OCTOBER 20
the day marks my first anniversary with my comma.
congratulations batchmates.
more comma cpa anniversaries to come.
congratulations batchmates.
more comma cpa anniversaries to come.
Monday, October 19, 2009
and the results are...
And the results are…
I thus become the bearer of news – good and bad – for my friends who have recently taken their CPA Board Examinations. I thus become the excitement that enveloped myself a year less a day before. I thus become the mask – the cheerful glee of victory, that triumph after bruises and the almost disgrace; and the melancholic sarcasm of sorrow, of that unwanted news.
Announcing the board results to my friends equated to being Saint Peter on Judgment Day or the self-assured host on your reality show’s grand finale.
It was insane. It was glorious. It was terrifying.
There run the anticipation – then, the sudden outburst of “he made it through” and the quick relapse of “are you sure this is the list?” It was like a year ago, only the list surmounts to the victory and defeat of a new batch of accountants – only that I delivered the news instead of anticipating it.
The good part.
My three batchmates gladly received their delayed blessings today. Arianne, the David Beckham fanatic, managed to juggle her workload with her review schedule.
Cyndi, who couldn’t take the exams with us due to health reasons, knew this blessing was a long time coming.
And to Charelyn, my Kaibigang Charelyn, you know we have won the battle together. God has been our ally.
Accountancy Batch 2009 garnered 82% passing rate, an outstanding feat for my alma mater Silliman University. Congratulations guys.
The bad part.
But with the passing rate comes the remaining 18% of the population – the lesser self-explanatory side of the coin. I choose not to mingle on this ratio knowing that faith will recalculate the results and turn this percentage into that ‘delayed blessing.’
And the sad part – the saddest part, really – of the ratio is my brother, my best bud for all these years, did not make it through. I know God has written the better purpose for why He has chosen him not to experience victory today.
Therefore, why should not be the connecting question – but weren’t our prayers not enough? Has He become tone-deaf of requests and hymns for successful battles?
And then I ponder on Faith and how He magically threads life into an amazing web of blessing, on how He utters viola and you become enchanted on how He fixes all the illusions the black cloud created – and yes, the prayers are answered; He indeed sings the requests and hymns for successful battles.
Maybe not now Dave, not today. Just remember, it’s not about having the comma on time – it’s about having it on the right time. And when it’s the right time, it’s God time.
---
Become the bearer of the news – click on the link provided below:
http://www.picpa.com.ph/announcements/2009-2010/ncpa_oct2009.pdf
CONGATULATIONS!
I thus become the bearer of news – good and bad – for my friends who have recently taken their CPA Board Examinations. I thus become the excitement that enveloped myself a year less a day before. I thus become the mask – the cheerful glee of victory, that triumph after bruises and the almost disgrace; and the melancholic sarcasm of sorrow, of that unwanted news.
Announcing the board results to my friends equated to being Saint Peter on Judgment Day or the self-assured host on your reality show’s grand finale.
It was insane. It was glorious. It was terrifying.
There run the anticipation – then, the sudden outburst of “he made it through” and the quick relapse of “are you sure this is the list?” It was like a year ago, only the list surmounts to the victory and defeat of a new batch of accountants – only that I delivered the news instead of anticipating it.
The good part.
My three batchmates gladly received their delayed blessings today. Arianne, the David Beckham fanatic, managed to juggle her workload with her review schedule.
Cyndi, who couldn’t take the exams with us due to health reasons, knew this blessing was a long time coming.
And to Charelyn, my Kaibigang Charelyn, you know we have won the battle together. God has been our ally.
Accountancy Batch 2009 garnered 82% passing rate, an outstanding feat for my alma mater Silliman University. Congratulations guys.
The bad part.
But with the passing rate comes the remaining 18% of the population – the lesser self-explanatory side of the coin. I choose not to mingle on this ratio knowing that faith will recalculate the results and turn this percentage into that ‘delayed blessing.’
And the sad part – the saddest part, really – of the ratio is my brother, my best bud for all these years, did not make it through. I know God has written the better purpose for why He has chosen him not to experience victory today.
Therefore, why should not be the connecting question – but weren’t our prayers not enough? Has He become tone-deaf of requests and hymns for successful battles?
And then I ponder on Faith and how He magically threads life into an amazing web of blessing, on how He utters viola and you become enchanted on how He fixes all the illusions the black cloud created – and yes, the prayers are answered; He indeed sings the requests and hymns for successful battles.
Maybe not now Dave, not today. Just remember, it’s not about having the comma on time – it’s about having it on the right time. And when it’s the right time, it’s God time.
---
Become the bearer of the news – click on the link provided below:
http://www.picpa.com.ph/announcements/2009-2010/ncpa_oct2009.pdf
CONGATULATIONS!
Sunday, October 11, 2009
job
SO MY FRIEND DOES QOUTE:
"my job is like having a sugar mommy. You get a lot from her - money, experience, and the occassional drama...
...but you don't necessarily have to love her."
---
nice job. it made my (pay)day.
"my job is like having a sugar mommy. You get a lot from her - money, experience, and the occassional drama...
...but you don't necessarily have to love her."
---
nice job. it made my (pay)day.
SUNDAY
...to whom do i oblige myself: to God or to Office?
the latter is a living; the former, the reason for living.
...to whom shall I dedicate.
...to whom shall i choose.
...sadly, my doing does not comprehend my want for praising.
---
this is a sad reality of working for a firm that mistakenly treats Sunday as the first hours of the regular workweek. It's not mandatory though, but when you are part of a 'team' that has religiously dedicated their Sabbath to praising financial papers instead of the Gospel, then you are oblige to convert to this cult and praise the hysteria of a thousand edits.
it's not worth it i tell. the first message i read on my cellphone was 'to come to the office early to dispose comments on the financial statements.' and the first word that came out of a supposedly holy day was a cursed word - the tagalog equivalent of a prostitute, a whore - my quick response to the schedule this cult has placed me today.
and the rant goes the whole morning, even on my second chance for a coordinated sleep. and it continues, my mouth eventually subsiding as it reaches a halt on a famished hour.
and so i did come, the early - the early afternoon. about two, thirty minutes past two, to be exact. and i write this, yes, in the airconditioned synagogue of the cult i am falsely following.
the ritual shall last for hours - even extending for the forty plus hours of a regular work week. and then another extension, the full fiscal year perhaps.
but the God above wants only mere minutes of my time - sixty minutes of undivided attention. sixty minutes and quiet prayers whispered at night.
that is what He wants. that is all He needs from me.
...to whom do i oblige: to God or to Office?
...of who does love me unconditional: to God or to Office?
...to whom shall i answer the call: to God or to God?
...off to sixty minutes and quiet prayers whispered at night.
the latter is a living; the former, the reason for living.
...to whom shall I dedicate.
...to whom shall i choose.
...sadly, my doing does not comprehend my want for praising.
---
this is a sad reality of working for a firm that mistakenly treats Sunday as the first hours of the regular workweek. It's not mandatory though, but when you are part of a 'team' that has religiously dedicated their Sabbath to praising financial papers instead of the Gospel, then you are oblige to convert to this cult and praise the hysteria of a thousand edits.
it's not worth it i tell. the first message i read on my cellphone was 'to come to the office early to dispose comments on the financial statements.' and the first word that came out of a supposedly holy day was a cursed word - the tagalog equivalent of a prostitute, a whore - my quick response to the schedule this cult has placed me today.
and the rant goes the whole morning, even on my second chance for a coordinated sleep. and it continues, my mouth eventually subsiding as it reaches a halt on a famished hour.
and so i did come, the early - the early afternoon. about two, thirty minutes past two, to be exact. and i write this, yes, in the airconditioned synagogue of the cult i am falsely following.
the ritual shall last for hours - even extending for the forty plus hours of a regular work week. and then another extension, the full fiscal year perhaps.
but the God above wants only mere minutes of my time - sixty minutes of undivided attention. sixty minutes and quiet prayers whispered at night.
that is what He wants. that is all He needs from me.
...to whom do i oblige: to God or to Office?
...of who does love me unconditional: to God or to Office?
...to whom shall i answer the call: to God or to God?
...off to sixty minutes and quiet prayers whispered at night.
Friday, October 9, 2009
OCTOBER RAIN
here are tiny specks of the october rain - some are drizzles, some, heavy continuing storms, unending, violent and unseen:
1. Tom Thumb - belittled despite my height, unseen despite my skin. they will know my worth soon enough. but not from the clutter this boring office makes. not from the evil beasts of suits and well-pressed blazers (one just incidentally passed by - the beast of all my jungle nightmares.) i am in drought, despite the unforgiving flood Ondoy created.
2. publication - followed blogs of word-driven acquaintances. i am not alone in the world after all - thinking of their words makes me sane. oh, when oh when can i write again. pro-bono writing stint, anyone?
3. advertising - finally sent an editted email to someone who might be the answer to my call. sir, kindly answer the soonest.
4. hunger - writing about the old place of misery, where both the broth and the spices speak of the dumaguete boulevard, of those once broken dreams.
5. release - the financial statements shall soon be released. finally, i could be free from the hunger Tom Thumb aches. never undermine a writer i tell you. never undermine.
6. survivor - outwit.outplay.outlast. interestingly enough, the philippine version outwits my initial apprehensions. survivor samoa, like previous seasons, is a must-see. when will russell be booted out?
7. celebration - my father will turn fifty in a matter of days. grand celebration, old man?
seven days. seven rains. some blissful, some desolate and unwarming - coming with or without warning. some...some..some.
1. Tom Thumb - belittled despite my height, unseen despite my skin. they will know my worth soon enough. but not from the clutter this boring office makes. not from the evil beasts of suits and well-pressed blazers (one just incidentally passed by - the beast of all my jungle nightmares.) i am in drought, despite the unforgiving flood Ondoy created.
2. publication - followed blogs of word-driven acquaintances. i am not alone in the world after all - thinking of their words makes me sane. oh, when oh when can i write again. pro-bono writing stint, anyone?
3. advertising - finally sent an editted email to someone who might be the answer to my call. sir, kindly answer the soonest.
4. hunger - writing about the old place of misery, where both the broth and the spices speak of the dumaguete boulevard, of those once broken dreams.
5. release - the financial statements shall soon be released. finally, i could be free from the hunger Tom Thumb aches. never undermine a writer i tell you. never undermine.
6. survivor - outwit.outplay.outlast. interestingly enough, the philippine version outwits my initial apprehensions. survivor samoa, like previous seasons, is a must-see. when will russell be booted out?
7. celebration - my father will turn fifty in a matter of days. grand celebration, old man?
seven days. seven rains. some blissful, some desolate and unwarming - coming with or without warning. some...some..some.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)