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Archive for July, 2008

Erle Frayne Argonza y Delago

 

I hear the murmur of love

Like rattles of tree branches.

It is coming, marching triumphantly

On the ground of eternal merriment.

It seizes me, bless of my wishes,

It its delightful gallows of wonderment.

It’s message clear—“Heed my call!”

To my woman ‘tis selflessly shared.

 

 

[Writ. 24 July 1988, Proj. 8, Quezon City, M.Manila]

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Bro. Erle Frayne Argonza y Delago

 

 

Sentiments from Eros’ royal house

Here it lies within my being.

A chasm it shall try to bridge

And warm up your cold heart a-glow.

It will grow, it will merge

From the shadows of the iceberg’s underneath.

It will seek its proper moorings

In your heart it is wont

To nestle; only in your heart or nevermore.

[Writ. 24 July 1988, Proj. 8, Quezon City, M.Manila.] 

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Bro. Erle Frayne Argonza y Delago

 

Wish for me O! Coconut Tree!

Of benign Filipinas that She comes in beauty

Her luggage filled to the brims

 

With love and tenderness. Let her caress

My longing heart. I shall meet her

Under your secure shade O! Coconut Tree!

 

Where we shall pledge the vow

Of eternal sharing of trust and care;

A bnd you’ll judge with favors

One stroke like a million devoted caretakers’.

 

 

[Writ. 19 June 1988, Proj. 8, Quezon City, M.Manila]

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Erle Frayne Argonza y Delago

 

 

I am but the emblem of the dust

Blown smoothly away by the wind.

 

Born from out of the dust

Where rests the cosmic elements

Over a century known in all;

Nurtured within the womb of Terra

Mother of all Mothers;

Delivered as seed by Firmament’s demiurgos

The ultima pater noster;

So was I born, a dust.

 

Chartered was my life through sojourns

By my Self

Betwixt worlds

Of shadows and sunlit dales

I the dust, I the crafter.

Molded was I so exquisitely humane

Betwixt cast of the hardest metals

Harder than Bernardo Carpio’s will

Was I nurtured out extruded

I am my own furnace, my dust I am.

 

Founded was I a warrior

Crafted in the trade of the blade

Whose countenance is blanketed with Courage

A most scarce diadem;

Bear I the Will to thrust the majestic sword

Unto the fleshy morsels of obstacles

Conceived by Existence, Uncertainty, Death

That I rise, am I arisen

I a dust, yet a Warrior.

 

Blown forth am I the dust

Blown forth by my own Will

Astride winds sunbeams waters

Ne’er fixed and transfixed neither

By mischievous forces of diabolical climes

Now dust am I, my Will wind

‘Tis my starship to galactic

Worlds of humans.

 

What has come to pass in my biographic trails?

My Past and Future, of what constructs made of?

They I’ve myself made

I the baker who’s always been attending

To chores of my oven’s commands

I’ve had my whereabouts made

Even as Future and Past cancel out

In the nothingness of the Omnipresent Present:

Time is but non-Time altogether

A leaf that has crumpled in its own face

‘Tis but a premise of one who’s never lived

So is it a pest that distracts awhile

And later fornicates in its death traps.

What’s the most illustriously true

But that I the dust was ever present

In time as time to me was spent a-non

I therefore live forever.

 

I’d gazed at the celestial mirror

And glanced at Eternal Thou

Or was it? Eternal Thou? What’s it?

A chimera derived from my own image?

An extract from the prurient I?

Or is it the whole Kosmos focused

In the magnificent galactic lens so said?

O! Kosmos! O! Nature! You are Eternal!

Am I Thou?

Please whisper the answer softly

In my ear

Amid the hypnotic melodies

Of the celestial music…

I so earnestly await thy response!

 

 

Wherefore the dust shall have gone forth

In the tapestries and gourdian knots of Nature

To be a part of and yet not

Of elements among whom it had immersed

As the Ego does to the countless Alters

It “Is” now and yet “Is Not”

A concrete now and yet a phantom as well

The moving and the rested wedded together

It is, it is such, it is

For and only for it to scale altitudes

To where it fuses with the bounds of its source

It is the changeling, the changeling

That dons the matterly cloak: the Kosmos

Of which it Is:

The Iota and the Whole are One.

Henceforth shall it have known

The All and the Self

Finale regal of its sacred mission.

 

That I am: the dust

Caringly blown away by the wind.

 

 

[Writ. 19 Feb. ‘92, Cubao, Quezon City, M.Manila]

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