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Posts Tagged ‘psychology’

THE GREAT RETURN

Erle Frayne Argonza y Delago

That which was
Lost may not be lost
‘tis but slumbering in its bed
Beneath its epithelial chambers.

Soon shall it wake up
To conquer its sleeping state.
Soon shall it triumphantly march
To possess the majestic estate bequeathed to it.
Soonest that it triumphs its tremolo of voice
As herald of its presence in the here-and-now

It has come again.

Nay, it shall stay.

[Writ. 15 Feb. 1992, Cubao, Quezon City, M.Manila]

Saturday, April 25, 2015

THE PROMISE

THE PROMISE

Erle Frayne Argonza y Delago

I

Rise up, Man! Rise up!
Your commonwealth’s history had been astride
The cosmic pendulum that had darted
From yon up. Pendulum has reached dead center
And again is rising beyond the dale of time.
The center was lodged betwixt camel and palm tree.

Reckon, reckon that the East calls
‘Twain the valley of time expectant.
Respond shall the camel benignly
And twill change hands with the carabao.

Snail paced is this beast the carabao
And so is your ascent, o! Man!
To the pinnacle of your godly, godly zen.
You shall be god, your being’s made
By you a living clay molded
Millions of times by your own hands.

II

Man! The Light has come forth
In dazzling photons it fused with seawaves
And fluvial ripples. Gracefully had
It landed, guided by a dozen eagles.

Shine brightly shall the Light
Sky beacon that illuminates eagerness
The clear landscape of the Promise.
The Promise has been slumbering in a bed
Of coal and gold: ‘tis coal and gold.

The Light shall burn the coal
To be fed into the waiting furnace
Where the gold shall be molded into one
Magnificent icon as tall as the azure sky.
‘Tis the longed for icon that shall herald
The historic swing to grandeur’s height.

III

Wherefore lies the heart of grandeur?
Wert this not but a dead man’s wish
Long buried in the hovels of the earth?
Wert this not but a sweetened piece
Of bitter gourd: its stinging taste betrays
Its endless senselessness in the world sensical?

Man! This height of grandeur is the state
Indescribable to the wisest among grandfathers
A million generations stretch: ‘tis a million
Times a million times of pure majestic luster
Only but Inner Selves can comprehend.

‘tis the founded form-being of all
Sublime inner selves that have been struggling
In putrescent marshes of history.
This to the grandfathers is mere dream
Induced by the spirit elixirs of Bacchus.

IV

Rise! Rise it shall
High above the hills and valleys
‘Twards the azure firmaments
This majestic commonwealth of yours, o! Man!
For which freedom-in-life is
A concluded spell of benevolent magis.
Reside shall its spirit in people’s bosoms.

Gone shall be the seismic struggles
Alone for bread as if this were the most
Valued diadem atop the zenith of greatness:
The world shall be its own bread
And man, the luminary figure at last
Whose coming was pronounced before
By a trillion bards of eagles and doves.

Rise! Rise it shal
From where corals had made lands
Where sturdy races have eked out living
And slave they were for others;
No more are they slaves but are free cranes
Atop carabaos their benign carriers.

V

What is reality after all o! Man!
For which you have buried yourself
Millions of times in search for its enigmas?
Is it like spiral moving poles a-clashing?
Maybe, but maybe not. Maybe
‘Tis a swarm of flies that swats
Made festive killings by the dozens
And yet aren’t flies but gems.

When upon each gem Light gently touches
It brings forth radiance to all
Corners of the cosmos: it makes bounds
Anon betwixt its grounded state
And the unbrimmed infinite extent
Apast spaces: ‘tis unbrimmed space
And yet spaceless brims.

VI

Man! A promise made a million times
And delivered a million times makes a million
More than its primeval state: ‘ts a grain
Of sand and the universe made one.
The sea has recognized this secret lore
And had sung it lyrically in melodious tunes
That no one cared to listen to

Save for man-slaves on a dozen mountains.
Mushroom-eaters they are who’d sensed
What the real is: the Promise realized overboard
Its primordial state—a giant that wakes up
From zillions of earth revolutions or slumber:
‘Ti a Being stronger than ever that turns rivers
Into founts of gold, cause for merriment
Atop the nature-world the bed of bread.

VII

Happy, o! happy will be
The suns and stars and moons
And winds and waves

Over your final dawning, o! Man!
Even as the day starts on the sixth hour.

Man! You are the sixth estate:
Risen and made one, freed at last
From tsunamis of disintegrating forces.

Behold! No more forlorn are nature and cosmos
The citadels of true life.
And you, Man, finally regained, revived,
Realized as your guardian and maker.

[Writ. 22 July 1991, Cubao, Quezon City, M.Manila]

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ON MUSIC

 
Erle Frayne Argonza y Delago

That I sing and make music
Brings joy and solitude to the psyche
Praise be to my wise grandfather
Of mathematical and musical genius made
From whom my bard’s mind was crafted.

Music is the holiest mover
It combines all powers of gods
From Olympus and all heavens
It shakes and rattles souls the most.

Music is certainly mathematics
Of metrics and calculus built
For which its maker anticipates
Astride rhythm and rhyme
The sonic bursts from orals and instruments.

Calculated is the world too
In music, a most moved audience
By booming sonics of its trade.

[Writ. 04 June 1991, Cubao, Quezon City, M.Manila]

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OF ARTIST AND DUSK

 
Erle Frayne Argonza y Delago

O! Eager artist!
Benign sib of the dusk
Vessel of the spirit of imageries

The dusk—
Is this your fraternal twin
Who reminds you always
Of your noble mission?

You are a speaker
And audio system fused
As one
Before the world

Your absence to many means
A worldless world, lifeless life

The dusk always reminds you
That salads of ideas are
Concocting
In your mind
Waiting to be revealed

[Writ. 04 June 91, Cubao, Quezon City, M.Manila]

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MORNING

 
Erle Frayne Argonza y Delago

Morning is a wondrous haven
It emboldens me to beg the plants around
Tell me where’s the heavenly gate
That leads me, leads me
To the folds of Aphrodite
With whom I can best fashion queries
About the whereabouts of my sweet
Lifetime partner

For indeed weary had I grown
I am disdained by time and fate
Faulted though I am guiltless
I simply hasn’t seen the least chimera
Of my love desire even if ‘tis were
But a mere chimera

[Writ. 03 June 1991, Cubao, Quezon City, M.Manila]

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SYNCHRONICITY
Erle Frayne Argonza y Delago

Far apart are two minds who’d never
Caught a glimpse of each other’s name
‘Til one day
Unbeknown to them
A same shooting star of an idea
Visited both of them amid
Blankets of dazzling light.

They are both
Children of twinned situations
Whose midwife is
Time.

[Writ. 27 May 91, Cubao, Quezon City, M.Manila]

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O’ MORNING

Erle Frayne Argonza y Delago

When the sun shines up yonder
Smiling, greeting smilingly
When birds chirp ceaselessly
Singing, singing soothingly
When ants traverse infinite treks
Working, laboring joyously
When feathery clouds hover above
Hand-waving, gleefully hand-waving
When the cool breeze fills up spaces
Whistling,merrily whistling

Come has the moment of meditation fulfilled
A blessing for the self
When morning’s truly a generous friend
Like a zillion angels, benign provider

[Writ. 24 May 91, Cubao, Quezon City, M.Manila]

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THY WILL BE DONE

Erle Frayne Argonza y Delago

 

 

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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