Thorns and Thistles

Thorns

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I Am But Migrant

Midlife is porthole to the past; vignette to the future.
– Chito L. Aguilar

I am but migrant in transit thru Time.

I AM BUT MIGRANT
(In Transit Thru Time)

upon the vast heavens I cast my eyes
astounded at such an expanse sublime
i see the moon and the stars in the skies
it is truly then that I realize
i am but migrant in transit thru Time.

on my desk I work and on bed I play –
paper-sheets of white and bed-sheets of lime
all bear my mark and my score of the day
by my hands of toil and my feet of clay
i am but migrant in transit thru Time.

between the distinct lines of poems I write
i waver on words of rhythm and rhyme
and when I falter between wrong and right
i seek a vision that I may see light
i am but migrant in transit thru Time.

between womb and tomb is a voyage brief
the fleeing years, fleeting dears… now, my prime
youth’s egress, midlife’s ingress, what relief –
and yet, I fear illness and old age grief
i am but migrant in transit thru Time.

upon the vast heavens I cast my eyes
then wonder and ponder when is the time
my Maker calls me and closes my eyes
when He pounds the gavel and casts the dice
i am but migrant in transit thru Time.

© 2008 Chito L. Aguilar

A Place Called 55

Vanishing Point

All that we see or seem is but a dream within a dream.”
– Edgar Allan Poe (1809 – 1849), U.S. poet and writer

We subsist in perpetual perspective; never reaching the vanishing point.

VANISHING POINT

there is one dot of convergence –
a spot always somewhere ahead,
our ultimate goal.

we subsist in perpetual perspective;
never reaching the vanishing point
though we move farther
and farther to the fore

in pursuit of that goal elusive –

a speck virtual,
of shifting shades,
in the horizon of dreams.

our dream, we may not attain.
but we are reminded
of a beacon beckoning
from a Supreme Junction

where all matters vanish,
where all dreams converge!

(horizontal line is between sea and sky.
vanishing point is between lea and eye.)

 – between line and point is position.
– between point and line is location.

© Chito L. Aguilar

Sorrow

O Sorrow, wilt thou live with me
No casual mistress, but a wife.”
– Alfred Tennyson (1809-1892), British Poet

Sorrow_macro

Remembrance

The glamour of childish days is upon me,
My manhood is cast down in the flood of remembrance,
I weep like a child for the past”
– D.H. Lawrence (1885-1930), British writer

Remembering & Forgetting

images of years gone by –
snap shots in series;
a slideshow in this theater called Life.

fleeting moments fly
like
floating butterfly;

gone to soon, yet, remain
in Time
in thought,

in remembrance.

(between
yesterday and today
are memories.

between
today and tomorrow
are dreams.)

– existence
is between
memories and dreams

© Chito L. Aguilar

Rest in Peace, Mama.

I was unable to blog for several days.

My mother passed away last week. She joined the Creator at 81.
After suffering a stroke about 4 years ago, her condition deteriorated.
Our family is saddened by the loss, but she is now Home; she now rests in Eternal Peace!

In memoriam, I repost this:

For me, a line from mother
is more efficacious than all the homilies
preached in Lent.”
– Henry Wadsworth Longfellow (1807 -1882)


MAMA
(mother of six,
widow, retired teacher,
grandma, great-grandma)

exactly how right can I write about you?
the script may just do no justice to you
clear words as the pure morning dew for you
equal with no woman, one and only you.

the elves in my childhood, you did banish
my ghosts in adulthood, you admonish
between me and my forfeits, you keep watch
and between me and my feats, you’re in touch.

time I would not know ‘til it to me you brought
earth would not be home ‘til it for me you sought
reason would not be mine ‘til it to me you taught
and, life would not be so ‘til it for me you bought.

– between
girlhood and motherhood
are hurdles withstood.

– between
motherhood and grand-motherhood
is growing brood.

(c) 2004 Chito L. Aguilar

Mama and Me in 1958

MAMA: mother of six, widow, retired teacher, grandma & great-grandma

exactly how right can I write about you?
the script may just do no justice to you
clear words as the pure morning dew for you
equal with no woman, one and only you.

the elves in my childhood, you did banish
my ghosts in adulthood, you admonish
between me and my forfeits, you keep watch
and between me and my feats, you’re in touch.

time I would not know ‘til it to me you brought
earth would not be home ‘til it for me you sought
reason would not be mine ‘til it to me you taught
and, life would not be so ‘til it for me you bought.
(c) 2004 Chito L. Aguilar

Photos taken by my uncle in 1958, when I was 7 months of age.

Video music: “Calm”, by Musicshake

Amidst Underwater Currents

Leadership should serve by example…
Public servants are meant to serve,
not to be served.”
– Jesse M. Robredo, DILG Secretary

Jesse M. Robredo
(1958-2012)

AMIDST UNDERWATER CURRENTS
(In Memoriam: Jesse M. Robredo, 1958-2012)

He was a good man. A good Secretary he was.
We lost him.

The crippled plane plunged into the deep wavy sea.
Amidst the underwater currents in that murky abyss,
he left a clear, enduring legacy supreme in his time.

He walked a straight path.

A champion of the masses, he was loved by
his people, valued by colleagues and friends
and reviled by political foes who loathed his solid
doctrines of good governance, honesty and integrity.

He walked his talk.

He was our youngest city mayor, serving for 19 long years
with untainted tenure as public servant. He was simple, kind
and dedicated; approachable but candid and straightforward.
He breathed fresh air, blowing away traditional politics in his turf;
and diligently bailed his city from sickbed to seedbed of growth.

He walked with national and local officials.

He worked to empower local governments, to make them competitive.
The streamlining and financial reforms he instituted cascaded from
national to local levels, carving his mark on a bureaucracy jaded
by patronage politics. He awarded exemplary government units with
the most-coveted ‘Seal of Excellence in Good Housekeeping’ (a reward
still unprecedented in the country); claiming no credits for himself.

He walked humbly despite laurels.

His academic achievements are laudable. And yet, he tempered
theory with practice and reached the pinnacle while keeping both
his feet firmly on ground. He reaped accolades and numerous awards.
He reached the corridors of power, walked with the President. But still,
no laurels and added feathers on his cap could ever really spoil him.
A very ideal father to his family, he always found time for them…

He walked and lived with principles.

His philosophy, values and ethics are beyond reproach.
He would have made more difference; done much more.
He would have lifted the constituency to higher levels,
leveraging on his undying dedication to serve our people.

He walked the distance.

He trekked the straight road which erring public officials shun.
May others in his suit follow his footprints and live his example.
May his passing reiterate the ideals of public service in these
most critical, difficult times when we find ourselves challenged,
amidst the underwater currents of a nation groping for deliverance.

He walked with us …

… and doing his job, he flew to his death.

Dios mabalos, Jesse!

© 2012 Chito L. Aguilar

—————————————————————————————————————–

Jesse Manalastas Robredo (May 27, 1958 – August 18, 2012) was a Filipino statesman who served as Secretary of the Interior and Local Government in the administration of President Benigno Aquino III from 2010 to until his death in 2012. Robredo was a member of the Liberal Party.

Beginning in 1988, Robredo served six terms as Mayor of Naga City in Camarines Sur. In recognition of his achievements as Naga City mayor, Robredo was awarded the Ramon Magsaysay Award for Government Service in 2000, the first Filipino mayor so honored. He was appointed to the Cabinet of President Aquino in July 2010.

On August 18, 2012 (PHT), the Piper PA-34-200 Seneca I aircraft (registered RP-C4431) carrying Secretary Robredo crashed off the shore of Masbate City. He was scheduled to go home and watch his daughter’s swimming competition in Naga City. The Philippine Department of Interior and Local Government said that the pilot sent a distress call to the Masbate airport requesting an emergency landing. The plane never made it to the airport and crashed in the sea. His body was retrieved three days later, August 21, at 800 meters from the shore and 180 feet below sea level.

from: http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Jesse_Robredo

Wield Your Hex No More

Love is lovelier when it’s forbidden.
Because it’s forbidden
it’s supposed to be hidden.”
– fr. Etiquette for Mistresses, on Rule # 7,
Jullie Yap Daza

WIELD YOUR HEX NO MORE
(Love that is forbidden is hidden.)

enter my psyche not, you goblin of lore
trick or trap, cast not, your magic of yore
critters and jitters tingle down my groin
exorcise you (can I?), with itch in loin?

there’s magic I feel by your haunted spell
escape (can I?), from your pit where I fell?
raves within me, I must hold never more
ah, Goblin of Love, wield your hex no more!

– love
is between
temperate and tropical.

© 2004 Chito L. Aguilar