Message from the Vale

Your name in the dark.
A replay?

On this journey
(Odyssey, perhaps?)
The heat swells.
The foundation trembles.
The outburst looms.

Then you appear.
Again are directors near
On the 29th.

Shall I sing les mots?
My back is on lanterns...
I face the wings.

As the fear sinks in,
May grace envelope. I wish to see
Your smile from Olympus.

My Acquaintance Ends (Kin After)

A vision, Morpheus?

Daybreak by coins' river.
Save it, I heard.
Swim with the depths.

Well, I approach.
The names I drop
Are benchmarks and virtual.

The nectar surfaces.
What an honor!
I pour honey in reciprocation.

Birds' music afar.
My ears' affection
Is for clear, seasoned sounds.

Panda plays with care.
In hunger tiger growls.
The zeal, I think, surges.

Many bottles I send
And read present skies daylong.
Somewhere...the will emerges.

I cry out!
May I be the steward
And give so much more than I get.

Shall I awaken now?

My eyes open.

A spectacle (or two) greets me.
I brush sand from my eyes
And fill the hourglass.

Savor...

the...

...experience.

Je m'occuperai de toi
Et je serai ton compagnon.
Pardon...ton frère.

Haiku 1

The golden sunrise
Birds singing at the dawn's break
Cherry blossoms bloom

On the Day I Got My Brother's Report Card

"Still into wrestling?"
Asked she of the rattlesnake passion.
My shirt answered with the man,
Decorated in historical gold.
But that son of a gun,
Excellent in working,
Would attend her clinic,
Certified for slaying of deadly fishes.

"Why not [along Katipunan]?"
Inquired he who was called Jun.
Indeed wealth would pour
Like blood in an AP account
But I, a neighbor of the Eagles,
Am driven by a traditional debt.
I believe the value is consistent
With those in his blue-coded subject.

And the value was invoked
As I passed Mariano's room.
"If you'll be here, so will I,"
Her Silang-strong words proclaimed.
Is it nothing more than foolish nostalgia,
This circular, winding road I am taking?
My heart tells me to bring my best
To the birthplace of DJ-Kezon.

Before I fought, I flew.
May the sea welcome me back when I pass.

The Most Worthless Hero? (An Evaluation of Jason the Argonaut)

Greek mythology is full of fascinating characters. I find it brimming with beings that captivate the imagination: creatures such as three-headed dogs and cyclopes in love, and divinities that include a promiscuous king and a fiery goddess of wisdom. Aside from these extraordinary entities, I marvel at the humans. Tales of men who fight gallantly and achieve feats of glory—these give me much literary pleasure.

Lately, I have read of Jason. The story of the Argonauts' adventures had seemed too complicated before, but now I have revisited it. And I find that I am not as impressed with Jason as with other heroes I know. In fact, judging him by his peers in Greek mythology, I am disappointed in him. The reasons: as a warrior, Jason is weak in spirit; and as a lover, Jason is despicable.

The first standard that a character like Jason must be judged by is ability as a warrior. This is simply because he is one: like many big names in Greek mythology, Jason goes on a quest and struggles against obstacles. But in his adventures, Jason is weak-spirited. When the Argo sets sail, Jason weeps, and ‘turns his eyes away from the land of his birth’. After the Argonauts lose Idmon and Tiphys successively, Jason is despondent; he dampens Peleus’ encouraging speech with hopeless words that expect doom. And when Aeetes gives the deadly tasks that Jason must fulfill to gain the Golden Fleece, Jason’s eyes are ‘fixed on the floor’, and after being speechless for a time he can only answer in desperation.

As far as I know, the other big names of Greek mythology do not do such things in their adventures. When Achilles is discovered by Odysseus after being hidden, he accepts the recruitment into the Trojan War—even if he is only in his teenage years. In Troy, he never displays any signs of fear. Hercules, Jason’s own companion on the Argo, accepts the Twelve Tasks from Eurystheus without any complaint or intimidation. Theseus, on his first trip to Athens and his father, refuses the safer voyage by ship and travels on land. And when he arrives in Athens, he volunteers to be one of the sacrifices bound for Crete, and eventually kills the Minotaur in the labyrinth. Jason’s puny character doesn’t live up to these performances.

Jason, however, is not just a fighter. In the Argonautica, he is also a lover. While in Colchis, Jason enters into a relationship with Medea who adoringly helps him in his forthcoming challenges: Aeetes’ tasks as well as pursuit of the Argo, and Pelias’ reign of terror. After all this assistance, the right thing for Jason to do would be to repay Medea with his faithfulness. Alas, he does not. Setting Medea aside, he marries the princess of Corinth for ambitious, political purposes. When Medea is exiled for threatening the princess, Jason gives her nothing short of coldness. Among many things, he rebukes her for her ‘mischievous talk’, and claims that Aphrodite, not her, had saved him in the quest for the Fleece. I am horrified that Jason can even consider a woman other than Medea as the one to marry. And I am disgusted at the apathetic words he spoke unto a devasted woman.

Indeed, if Jason were compared to two famous lovers, he would look like a pathetic case. Odysseus appears to be his clear and distant superior. The king of Ithaca could have forgotten about his wife Penelope and stayed with a powerful witch—either Circe or Calypso. Instead, he perseveres to get back to his home, and reunite with Penelope. Odysseus faces so many obstacles in getting back to Ithaca, yet he remains faithful to his wife. Jason has only one obstacle between him and Medea, which he does not conquer—his own selfish ambition. Aeneas also comes to mind; one may point out that the founder of Rome also broke a lover’s heart, that of Dido queen of Carthilage. However, it was divine decree that moved Aeneas to leave Dido; Zeus had ordered him to leave Carthilage because he had a civilization to establish. Sadly, Jason left Medea of his own free will. This makes his actions all the more despicable.

What, then, do I make of Jason after pointing out all this? Do I view him as the most worthless hero in all of Greek mythology? No. I still make meaning out of his character, precisely because of his weaknesses. He is weak in spirit and erroneous as a lover, but are these not human traits? I can relate to Jason’s shortcomings because I, a human, know how it feels to have them—to be puny or misguided in love. And I can do more than just observe his weaknesses; I can try my best to avoid them, for my benefit and for others’. Therefore, I will grant the leader of the Argonauts a piece of glory. I will remember Jason, so that I can be reminded to be strong in will, and honorable in deed.

Grace

'Peace be with you,'
We said.
And the rain poured;
Nature can harm.
I look down
And see the umbrella,
Just there on the pew.

'Be safe,'
Father said.

There and Back Again: A New Look at Fairy Tales

Literature teaches a person to look at things from different perspectives. Through literature, one realizes that his personal point of view is not alone in the world. Rather, there are many schools of thought out there, which consist of different concepts ands standards. Also, there are billions of people who live, and along with them their unique ways of interpretation.

In fact, there are multiple perspectives within just a single person. An individual looks at things differently at each stage of his life. What may be simple to him as a child may be complicated when he is a teenager, and again easy in adulthood. Such is the case for me and fairy tales. I am no forty-year-old yet, but I have realized that my views of those stories have changed. The way I looked at them back then is not the way I look at them now.

When I was young, what stood out in “Little Red Riding Hood” was its villain—the ‘bad’ wolf. It blazed a trail of bad deeds, and was thankfully stopped by the woodcutter, the story’s hero. “Jack and the Beanstalk” was ‘cool’ for me, because it featured a daring boy who defies a giant and makes himself rich. And I found “The Three Little Pigs” funny; not only did it have fat, squealing characters, but it also had humorous lines and a witty ending.

But now, my reading has progressed.

“Little Red Riding Hood”? It’s sexual now. To me, it can already be the tale of an up-and-coming woman. It’s not about the wolf anymore; it is the girl that becomes the focus of the story. With help from other people and a ‘politically correct’ version, I have come to see a story of transition: a girl enters mature age, and ventures into the world. Her entry into the forest symbolizes this passage, whereas the wolf represents an issue she has to face—males that try to exploit her. Her reaction—generally, one that makes her vulnerable—shows weakness in young ladies that perhaps cannot be avoided, or blamed. I don’t think much about the woodcutter now; I put him, the male hero, aside and regard “Little Red Riding Hood” as a tale that suggests strength and smartness to budding women.

“Jack and the Beanstalk”? It lost some of its coolness. Jack and his mother may have been poor, but I don’t approve now of Jack’s theft of money. It doesn’t look right. It seems that there is no other excuse for him other than retaliation; the giant had wanted to eat him, and so Jack took some wealth to get back at the giant. Still, his theft is not justified, because all he did was, pay back a wrong with another wrong. I admired Jack’s audacity when I was young, but now, I subject his actions to ethical evaluation.

“The Three Little Pigs”? It has developed spirituality. I have associated Catholic teachings to the materials that the pigs use to defend against the wolf. The first two pigs used weak materials (straw and wood) to build their houses, and the wolf blew their protection away. The third pig used more sturdy matter (brick), and the wolf could not bring his house down. The pigs’ materials remind me of a discussion by Jesus regarding salvation. In Matthew 7:24-27, Jesus warns that those who do not put his words into practice will perish, like a house built on sand that is rampaged by a storm. He also proclaims that those who are Christians in deed will endure, like a house ‘built on the rock’ that survives disastrous weather. I remember these words of the Lord when I go back to that ‘funny tale’; so “The Three Little Pigs” has now transcended childish humor and taken on spiritual matters in my mind.

A funny thought: the current me going back in time and talking to a five-year-old me, telling that young fellow about budding sexuality, moral evaluation, and rock-solid salvation. My young self would succumb to too much information at that instant. And there would be no surprises there, for the interpretation of a five-year-old is nothing more than a five-year-old’s, whereas my interpretation now is that of a mature teenager. That is the way literature works: a person enriches his perspective as he grows. As a youngster, his point of view is narrow, but as he rolls along, he acquires concepts and values from other people, expanding his viewing glass. All of us—children, teenagers, and adults—must continue the progress of our perspective, so that our supply of meaning in life is sustained. Therefore, there is nothing wrong with learning anew from that dusty, crumbling book of fairy tales.

Tapos

Saglit lang naman
Bakit siya lumisan?
Hindi man lang ako pinagbigyan
Ako'y manghingi
Ng kanyang patawad
Damdamin ko sana ay pakinggan

Sa gabi, luha ay kay pait
Isip ay pagod bawat saglit
Ito ba'y sumpa ko magpakailanman?

Ito nga ba'y tapos?
Ako sana ay patawarin mo
At kay liwanag ng gabi
O, magbati na tayo

Tamis ng hinga
Hindi malimutan
Pati kanyang daldal sa magdamag
Mga bagay na
Ayaw pag-usapan
Kami'y tahimik na naghiwalay

Sa gabi, luha ay kay pait
Isip ay pagod bawat saglit
Ito ba'y sumpa ko magpakailanman?

Ito nga ba'y tapos?
Ako sana ay patawarin mo
At kay liwanag ng gabi
O, magbati na tayo

Ito nga ba'y tapos?
Ako sana ay patawarin mo
At kay liwanag ng gabi
O, magbati na tayo

Tahimik man ako, puso'y nagtatanong
Bakit hindi ka pa magbalik sa kanya
Bumalik ka na sa kanya

Ito nga ba'y tapos?
Ako sana ay patawarin mo
At kay liwanag ng gabi
O, magbati na tayo

Ito nga ba'y tapos?
Ako sana ay patawarin mo
At kay liwanag ng gabi
O, magbati na tayo

O, magbati na tayo
O, magbati na tayo
O, magbati na tayo...

Salin ng "Won't Go Home Without You" ng Maroon 5

Faye

Binibini, 'gandang dalaga
May kaunting problema
Nais ko na siya'y matulungan
Naririyan kanyang sinta

Tumungo sa malayo para makapiling
Hanggang ngayon, aking uhaw 'di pa napapawi

Ayos lang na ibigin kita
Sa gitna ng malakas na ulan
Hanapin lang ang iyong ngiti
Na kay lungkot, huwag kang paghintayin

At mahalin ka
At mahalin ka

Kapag nariyan ka
Ang kagandahan
Ay nais kong madama mo
Nababahala tuwing minsan ako
Huwag mo nang isipin 'yon

'Di laging ginhawa't madali
Magkasundo kayo, giliw ko
At kung saklolo'y iyong kailangan
Bukas ang pinto sa tuwina

Ayos lang na ibigin kita
Sa gitna ng malakas na ulan
Hanapin lang ang iyong ngiti
Na kay lungkot, huwag kang paghintayin

At mahalin ka
At mahalin ka
At mahalin ka
At mahalin ka

Huwag mong itago
Huwag nang malungkot
Hindi ka ganyan, magpakatotoo
At bakit pa ba ka'y nagpaalam?
Hihintayin ko kailanman pagbalik mo

Kapag nariyan ka
Ang kagandahan
Ay nais kong madama mo

Ayos lang na ibigin kita
Sa gitna ng malakas na ulan
Hanapin lang ang iyong ngiti
Na kay lungkot, huwag kang paghintayin

At mahalin ka
At mahalin ka

Huwag na sanang magpapaalam
Huwag na sanang magpapaalam
Huwag na sanang magpapaalam...

Salin ng "She Will Be Loved" ng Maroon 5

What Met [Answer: The King]

His name is Paul
And I'm Shawn.
He stands behind me.
We pose as the pyro goes off.
I fight my battle
Knowing DX lives.

His name is Paul
And I'm John.
Great music we create.
In my life,
We come together
Here, there, and everywhere.

His name is Paul
And I'm Peter.
We share one blood.
I speak of Jews
And he of Gentiles;
The same Spirit empowers.

God is with us...
I am thankful for all!

A poem for one of my best friends, Em Bernardo. I made it for his 19th birthday. The title is a code.

Juno

Her arms are ivory
Her smile, dazzling as the Goddess
Who rules on high
And plays with the peacock
Between pet and lady,
There is grace, so divine.

Her wit is outstanding.
Her eyes sparkle
Like a rose, blazing in the heavens,
Which came forth from Ron's wand.
A spell that adores,
For her friendship is magical.

Her voice refreshes
Her tongue, doubly gifted,
Defeats the copycats;
De Espadanya is left behind.
Boys run, and men limp to pursue her
Because her laughter is priceless.

Zeus or Harry,
I am not.
Tiburcio is my name
If lightning is slow
Or spells are realistic.
But I speak of a character
Whose existence is true.

I sing of a lady
Who's simple, yet has a lot to show the world.
May the Creator of her story
The Author of her book
Bring her to the kingdom
Where she'll see eternity.

Someday. Someday...
For now, may
My friend live on
And enjoy the literature of life.

A poem for one of my best friends, Katrina Favis. I failed to greet her on time when she turned 19. This is my compensation.