Archive for September, 2008

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]

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Erle Frayne Argonza



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]

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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]

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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]

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