Monday, February 28, 2011

A story of revolution

My yellow media pass flashes on my chest as I make my way to the celebration of the 25th Anniversary of the 1986 Edsa People Power Revolution. The heat was too much and my body was too weak from an entire night of duty on the newsroom and a visit to my assigned beat at the Southern Police District command office that comes before. And yeah, I'm a bit excited!

I looked around and saw that the atmosphere was festive. It is, they say, a celebration of democracy's rebirth; a toppling of a dictator; the rise of a widowed leader; humanity's triumph.

But what do these words meant for someone who's not yet even conceived at his mother's womb during those four-day uprising?

To tell you the truth, my family is a known Marcos loyalist. On the side of my mother, our lineage would be traced back in the land were teachers adore Ferdie and his queen Imelda, telling students of their heroic era and the glory that was Philippines. I heard it all.

Let me be bold by saying that Edsa is one among the many tragic tales of this country, or at least on how the story is developing. Yes. Edsa is a developing story, as the journalism term dictates. It never should've ended with Cory's instillation and heavens forbid even then during Gloria's on Edsa Dos.

This time let me blame this generation, my generation, which they say are people of freethinkers and liberated mindsets. This generation where majority thinks we need a law that dictates condom use. And the very same generation where students flock to nursing schools because they want to go abroad to conquer some “greener pasture.”

I saw them all and even I sometimes join them. The rants over twitter and other social networking sites where they decry over the fowl manuevering of this nation and the corrupt practices of our dear politicians. Others even write on their online journals, an exposition of how derailed this country is. They do debates. They battle it out with their sharpened words and well honed philosophy. But where does it lead?

Aside from the monthly tax deduction on your salary, what have you done to continue the story that is Edsa?

Remember that Edsa should never be about Cory, Ninoy, Cardinal Sin, Ramos, Butch Aquino or Enrile. It is about the ordinary people who left their office desks and braved the military tankers that lined the road on the former Highway 54. It's about the nuns who carry rosaries and flowers as offerings to heavily armed militias. It is about Nanay Mameng who instead of trying to figure out how to earn the needed 50 pesos a day for her family then, marched off to Edsa yelling for her grandchildren's future and freedom.

I fear, and just by thinking I am almost in tears, that my generation could not or would never have done that. I saw in the streets and there were few. I observed, there was almost none.

But I have faith. Maybe one day the blood of our ancestors that died defending the little freedom we now enjoy would boil up and awaken us in our deep slumber. No figure, yellow or rainbow, could pull us up from the sinking oblivion we're in right now. That was the biggest mistake that is Edsa, the thought of a Messiahnic figure that would end all misseries and grant us absolute freedom, and that's it – end of story.

It should be us. Edsa should be us.


Saturday, February 26, 2011

Double Dickel

Only a Dumb would stare at the bright soaring moon, wondering why is it that whenever he moves, the bright night orb seems to be following.

It is not.

But what would you call someone who got hit by a huge rock, got this massive gash bleeding mercilessly, then pick up again that rock, smash it once more on his head making sure it was really the one that caused the incision?

You call that a f*ckin WHORE!


Oh yeah. I'm back to reading shits.

Wednesday, February 23, 2011

Thirdy and his future cousin

Thirdy (Daniel III)

And like what I've said, since you were born during the 2011 NBA All Star where Kobe Bryant got his 4th MVP title, Uncle expects you to be a good basketball player! I already told your mom that I'm gonna buy you your first jersey. So be good!

(Pasensya ka na. Puro girls kasi yung sinundan mo that's why excited si Tito to play with you.)

But you know what? Uncle is hoping for the day to come that he can give you a Cousin to play with...

a boy Cousin who can be your buddy...

I really do hope so.

We'll see...

Monday, February 21, 2011

Désolé Boy at Bed/Malate

Last Saturday, I gave in. I let my friends drag me to Malate. And what better place to host my baptism than the must see cradle Bed Manila?


10 p.m, I arrived at Robinson’s Manila. I looked for a place to eat dinner alone then asked Kiko for direction on how to go to Bed. I’m too shy to ask around so Kiko had to give me a detailed direction but still, I couldn’t find it. I know, silly me! (I’m sorry Kiko for bothering you and for being so stupid) But then I was rescued by my friends who are already looking for me, and so I came.

First glance at the façade of the bar, I thought it was cool. I paid my entrance and was greeted politely by the staff.

It’s nice inside. I actually liked the crowd which is a must for me in every gimik spot that I would go to. The smoking area (I don’t know the proper name of that area, sorry) I think is my most favorite spot there. It was spacious and flashes of me grooving around the dance floor quickly entered my mind. Even my straight friends liked the interiors of Bed that someone even said it’s on par with that high-end bar at The Fort. Indeed!

At some point, we went out and checked out the crowd at Che Lu. I was scared at how small the place is and it felt like people are touching you intently, haha. It was jam-packed and very hot inside. I got pissed off when this conceited guy who’s topless on the ledge/stage grabbed my hand and placed it on his belly (I don’t wanna call it abs, duh). It’s just too much for me.

I went there because I miss dancing so much and not because I want to hit on some random strangers. Though I won’t deny I did some naughty little things there which I won’t divulge anymore at the risk of destroying my VERY WHOLESOME reputation here. Hahaha. (Originally, I posted a picture of me smoking at Bed but I realised someone might actually recognise me…so there! Deleted.)

So how would I describe my first visit at Malate? I think it takes some getting used to. The dancing topless guys, two (or more) guys kissing, guys hitting at one another at all corner…they’re all foreign to me. I’m sure I’ll get used to them. But I dunno when will I come back. Fifty percent of me still thinks that straight bars are better for me. But who knows? Maybe next time you’re there the guy dancing beside you would be me! Hehe. Just look for some hot tall guy with a Mohawk and tattoos all over his arm plus earrings on his brows…

and that’s not me. Lol.

By the way, I think I saw a blogger walked past by me. Guess who he is?

Anyway, the first-time Malate experience taught me few things. Like the fact that I don't have to bury myself in self pity and wallow over things that I don't have. I'm fucking 23 years old, for Christ's sake! I'm too young to be worrying 'round the clock over work, relationships and people who don't give a damn about me. I am on my prime and should be exploring new things and new people. 

I know how to take care of myself and I don't need anyone to tell me what to do or not. I'm young which means I'm allowed to fuck things up and mess around and everybody would forgive me. It's about time I pick up myself once more and reclaim my old life: the hip-hop rockstar! Imagine that? I mean, when was the last time I was too high and too drunk to care about things? 2009 at Boracay? 2010 in some house party?

It’s like Malate actually said to me: You know what DB, you are born that way. Just love yourself and your set. Just own the night and party like it’s the end of the world!

To which I replied: Which is what I exactly did, thanks to you! We may not be instant bestfriends, but who knows? Maybe I'll see you soon. 'Till then...


"Hey DB, how about this Saturday night?"


"The Fort."

"As long as I don't have to pay for my entrance."

"Is there ever an event of mine that you paid for bar fine?"

"I’m kidding. Then I guess I'll go shopping with you Friday?"

"You bet!"

"Alright then, see you!"

Saturday, February 19, 2011

No ordinary man

Jayson Ordinario in an interview for DZMM Teleradyo

MANILA, Philippines - His name is Jayson Ordinario, whose sister Sally Ordinario Villanueva together with other two Filipinos, will face death from the hands of Chinese executioners. (As of press time, the Chinese government postponed the execution of the three OFWs as per Vice President Jejomar Binay's visit to appeal for the case).

That morning he surfaced, I met Jayson. I listened hard to his story and I thought, here is a no ordinary man with his extraordinary story - a story in search of freedom.

Two years ago, before the stir of the media today, Sally Villanueva was incarcerated in China for allegedly smuggling drugs. It was news to her. Unknowingly, she became a "drug mule," a courier for a Western African syndicate. A bag given to her by her recruiter known to be "Tita Cauayan" from Isabela contained the drugs. The said bag was specially crafted to hide the heroins beneath the cloth, unknown to Villanueva.

She left the country a day before Christmas with high hopes that next Christmasses would include "noche buena" for her family. After all, she was promised a hundred thousand peso salary per month, a dubious offer for someone whose only wish is to provide for her struggling family.

The case rolled silently for two years without solid aid from government. So the family decided to take matters in their own hands.

So then enter Jayson. In the hopes of neutralising the drug case of his sister, he agreed to become an asset for the Philippine Drug Enforcement Agency (PDEA).

"Sabi po sa 'kin ng DFA (Department of Foreign Affairs) 'pag may naibigay na impormasyon na pwedeng bumuwag sa sindikato, baka hindi mabitay yung ate ko."

(I was told by the DFA that if there's any evidence that could blow-up the syndicate, there's a huge chance that my sister's case would be neutralised)

And he was successfull! Well, if we are to talk about the cracking of a large drug syndicate and putting them in their rightful cells, indeed, Jayson was a success. But the case of his sister remained untouched.

Apparently, it was not enough that Jayson had to swallow 34 capsules of high grade heroin that caused his voice to wane for few weeks. It wasn't enough that he risked his life infiltrating a huge drug foreign syndicate acting as an asset for the drug agency. It is never enough that he's receiving death threats non-stop after putting some huge names in the business of drug trafficking.

"Gagawin ko ang lahat para lang mailigtas ang ate ko."

(I'll do everything just to save my sister)

Jayson's family patiently waited. But nothing happened.

In a country where cops are always late and the president no longer read newspapers because according to him it was all but pure criticisms on the way he is steering this nation, we act and try to save the day at the last minute call of things. I couldn't help but wonder how this significant case seemed to have missed the to-do-list of the the Department of Foreign Affairs that the talks that float around these past weeks are the possible candidates of President Aquino that will replace outgoing Secretary Alberto Romulo.

Most of all, I could not fathom how the president's mind work as to why he's capable of saying things like "this will test the bilateral relationship [of the Philippines and China]" and "we'd like to see reciprocity, hopefully."

For one, this is not just a test of the diplomatic ties between the two countries because lives and future are at stake here. And second, this is why the Philippine's snob of the Nobel Peace Prize awarding then just to favor China is useless and a futile effort. 

We try and heave the lives of these people because they are innocent and mere victims. We appeal for the case because there's a slim legal chance that the case would be neutralised. We don't want phone calls. We don't like arranged conversations. What we want is for the president to take a huge leap of action and protect, not only the lives of those three Filipinos in China but as well as the thousands of Filipinos out there who are VICTIMS of different injustices across the world. 

Of course, the president is no God and could not make miracles. The lethal injection for Sally Villanueva, Ramon Credo and Elizabeth Batain may push through. But what I want to see is a country who struggled to fight for the innocence of its people and a president who did not give up and gave his best for the lives of the people he is sworn to protect.

The president could take few notes from Jayson Ordinario. We all should take lessons from the man Jayson Ordinario, whose quest for freedom made him risk his life, all for upholding the truth. And in the words of our dear president, this will test, not the bilateral relationship of our country to any other country, but the strength of this administration's backbone to carry the country and its people all over the globe. 

with reports from Inquirer

Monday, February 14, 2011

Mga kundiman sa panahon ng ligalig

"Ang iba'y iibig sa maling panahon, umibig noong 1980s, nakipag-martsa sa mga aktibista, pero ang taong nakatakda sa kaniya ay nabuhay pa noong 1930s, isang rebelde laban sa mga Amerikano, matagal ng namatay. Kaya she keeps on falling in love sa mga lalaking mas matatanda, hinahanap sa kanila ang hindi mahanap na wala, hindi mapagtagpo ang kahapon at kasalukuyan."

Hindi ko alam kung na-ikwento ko na ito pero kung oo, pagpasensyahan ninyo na't kailangan ko talagang muling i-kwento.

I first tasted the sweet feeling of falling in love back in high school. Sa isang babaeng ubod ng ganda at ubod ng tayog para sa isang kagaya ko, anak mahirap, hindi katalinuhan at simple. Siya sa kabila ng mga payak kong katangiang ito ay kilalang-kilala sa aming paaralan. This was during freshmen years. She was a member of the school's cool dance club. I, on the other hand, was a drum and lyre band geek. The feeling was so overwhelming, so I gave in. I courted her.

Tumagal lang ang nasabing panliligaw ng isang linggo. I gave her love letters telling her how "breathless I am every morning seeing her walking on the school grounds with the early sunshine touching her beautiful face." But after receiving a bouquet of red roses from me, which by the way costs then  two-weeks worth of my baon, she ditched me.

Kinausap niya ako ng maayos, mahinahon. Bagama't hindi deretsahan, isa lang ang pinupunto ng mahaba at pinagkabit-kabit niyang malalamyos na salita - hindi niya ako gusto. Nagpasalamat siya sa atensyong ibinigay ko at kung maaari ay nais daw niya akong maging kaibigan.

Wala akong nasabi. It was the first time. The very first time and my young heart was squashed into million pieces.

"Ang iba'y iibig sa mga hayop, dahil noong unang panahon ay mga hayop sila. Ang iba'y iibig sa mga bahay, kinikilig habang hinahaplos ang barandilya, nalilibugan sa kisame, pinagnanasahan ang sahig. Patuloy silang mananakit sa mga babaing umiibig sa kanila dahil hindi nila kailanman malalaman na ang puso nila ay gawa sa kahoy."

May isang babae pa akong nagustuhan na pinakalilihim-lihim ko't maski mga kaibigan ko'y hindi nila alam na dinigahan ko noon. Pero ganun pa rin naman ang kinalabasan ng kwento - basted.

Matapos nun ay sunod-sunod naman ang mga lalaking nagustuhan at inibig ko. Mas masalimuot. Mas magulo. The rules of the game are harder to make way in. I counted, heartache after heartache and still, no one came to make it whole. I was left to figure it out myself why, while fixing back my shattered heart alone and desolate.

"Merong umiibig na habang nagtatagal ay lalong nawawalan ng IQ. Merong pag umibig ay napupundi ang 4 out of 5 senses, touch lang ang natitira. Merong ang tingin sa pag-ibig ay tali. Merong di makahakbang dahil sa pag-ibig at meron namang nakakalipad. Merong ang tingin sa pag-ibig ay hapunang walang sawsawan. Merong kapag umibig ay nakaharap sa salamin, sarili ang sinasamba. Merong ang tingin sa pag-ibig ay parusa."

Ang hirap pala umibig! Iyon na lang ang naibulalas ko matapos ang ilang beses kong pagtatangka na pasukin ang larangang sobrang naging malupit sa akin. Merong mga nagpa-asa. Merong ang akala'y pwede akong gawing parausan. Merong nanghingi ng load. At meron ding mga nangutya.

Para akong aplikanteng naghahanap ng mapapasukang trabaho. Dala-dala ang bio-data ko habang isa-isa nila itong binasa. Mayroong nagustuhan ang mga nakasulat doon. Meron namang doon pa lang ay todo na ang iling. At sa mga tumawag upang ako'y kapanayamin ng personal, isa ang kanilang naging mga sagot pagkatapos "don't call us, we'll call you."

Uuwi akong pudpod ang mga sapatos. Uuwi akong wala pa ring laman ang sikmura. Uuwi akong gutom. Luhaan. Talunan.

Pagod man at kumakalam ang sikmura, babangon pa rin kinabukasan. Haharap sa panibagong araw na puno na naman ng mga paghamon at mas maraming mga pagtanggi.

"Merong pinalad na magkakilala, nagka-ibigan at nagsama. Pero sa 'di malamang dahilan ay iniwan ng babae ang lalaki. Mabubuhay ang lalaki sa walang hanggang paghahanap. Mari-realize niya na ang pag-ibig ay laging paghahanap. Pero hindi niya kailanman mahahanap ang babae dahil ang totoong hindi niya mahanap ay ang kaniyang sarili."

Nakakapagod maghintay. Hindi mo alam kung ikaw ba'y hinihintay din niya.O sadyang wala ka naman talagang hinihintay na paparating.

Hindi naging mabait ang pag-ibig sa akin. Hinamon ako nito ngunit hinamak pagkatapos. Sinugatan ako nito't ninakawan ng dangal at kaisipan.

Pero hindi niya nagawang nakawin ang aking kwento. Itutuloy ko ang kwento ko, kwento man ito ng pag-ibig, ng tagumpay, ng kasalanan o pagkabigo. Tatanggapin ko kung sadyang ako'y nakalaang magmasid at maging masaya na lamang para sa mga kinasihan ng tadhana.

Sumusuko na ba ako sa pag-ibig? Hindi. Sumusuko na ba ako sa paghihintay? Gusto kong sabihing oo. Pero alam ko, dahil kahit ga'no pa kagulo ang isip at buo kong pagkatao, alam kong higit akong tumatapang kapag nasusugatan.

At tulad ng lagi ko ngang sinasabi, darating din ang araw ng pag-laya. Darating ang araw ng paglaya. May araw ng paglaya.

Titingin ako tuwing sasapit ang umaga sa langit at ibubulong doon na hinihintay pa rin kita. At kung sakaling hindi ka naman dumating dahil nabuhay ka sa ibang panahon, o di kaya'y hindi rin ako pumasa sa iyong mga kwalipikasyon o marahil hindi ko rin nahanap ang aking sarili, sasabihin ko naman sa buwan pagsapit ng gabi... na salamat. Salamat dahil minsan, tayo'y pinagtagpo niya...

 sa ating mga panaginip. 


"Mga kundiman sa panahon ng ligalig" by Jose F. Lacaba

Mga sipi mula sa nobela ni Ricky Lee "Para Kay B"
No intention of copyright infringement

Thursday, February 10, 2011

Nawala siyang hindi dumating

I was reviewing some of my old notes back in college and found this one. Such very innocent and naive words, who would've thought I would even dare thread those? Despite the cheesiness, there's something in it...the bitter-sweet taste of my youth; the early call for affection and fulfillment. Was there a change? Err...yes?

I am thinking hard, the time and date when I wrote it. Was it during some boring class? Or at the middle of goofing around with my seat mates? Or maybe out of frustration that my crush didn't smile back when he passed by me at the corridor? Nostalgic...

Anyway, again forgive the cheese overload. Forgive my youthful naivety. Forgive me...

gusto ko lang din sanang mahalin gaya mo.
ang ingatan at pahalagahan,
hawakan at hagkan,
buong suyo't buong puso. 
nais ko din sanang maramdaman, 
maranasan at malaman,
kung paano mag-alala, 
sa isang mahal na inaalala.
pangarap kong mahalin. magmahal.
ang may minamahal.

paano kaya ang alayan ng matatamis 
na salita.
paano kaya bigkasin ang salitang
mahal kita. 
saan kukuhanin mga awit
na isasambit.
saan papandayin mga halik
na kay hinhin. 

kahibangan bang mangarap,
ang aking hangarin.
habiin sa isip, sa puso'y likhain
ang minsan sa kinabukasan
ang minsan sa isang bukas
isang pag-ibig na darating,
isang pag-ibig ang yayakapin.

lipas na yata ang panahon, 
araw muli na namang umahon.
hindi na darating iyon. marahil,

wala din 'yon...

Wednesday, February 9, 2011


Express na express! Wahaha!!

Busyng busy ako sa pang-aasar sa mga NBA threads sa mga galit na galit pa rin at hindi maka-move on na bitter detractors ni LeBron simula nga nung lumipat siya sa Miami Heat from Cavaliers.

Para kasi sa 'kin ang tagul na nun at di na dapat ika-bitter dahil sadsad na sadsad na talaga ang Cavaliers. Bwahahaha!!

All time low na yung 25 losses nila no.

Eto na ang karma. Dumadating.Parang bola ng basketball na deretso tumama sa mukha ko, bwehehe.

Ang kining inang LeBron nalagpasan ang current season high score na 34 points ni Pau Gasol. Naka 41 points lang naman ang hayuuup!!!

Masayang masaya pa naman ako dahil siyempre kahit magka team si Kobe at Gasol eh nalampasan din ni Gasol ang 31 points ni Kobe. Mas fan ako ni Gasol kasi overrated na si Kobe eh although siyempre we belong to one big happy family of Lakers. Hehehe.

So from now on...



Oo na, duwag na ko kung duwag dahil sinulat ko 'to sa Tagalog at hindi mababasa ng mga NBA fans form other countries. Hehehe. Yoko lang ng gulo dito sa blog ko. Yun lang!

Sunday, February 6, 2011

The Neverending Story (Challenge post)

Captain Jack Sparrow once said, there are only two things that matter: what a man can do and what a man can't do. True enough. However far our strength and wisdom's reach, there would be limitations. Sometimes easy to accept; others painful to bear.

But being human is about conquering those boundaries. It's stepping to the realm of the unknown that stir us to wander in a feral jungle of ambiguity not minding the question whether able or not.

I grasp onto my fears. Bizarre as it may sound, I would exploit it as my security blanket. From time to time it would consume me but only enough before reaching the brim. Because without fear there can be no courage; and without courage there can be no adventures.

This is what this story, and my story is all about. Dreams and wishes seem to vaporize as we humans get consumed by The Nothing. According to G'mork, The Nothing is emptiness. It is the despair that people try to bury deep within them pretending it's actually not there. But what they don't know is that almost every feat they try is an unconscious leap to satiate that emptiness.

But dreams and wishes are dreams and wishes per se. A portion of them might corporealise in the actual cosmos, but the huge slab of the truth, and as for what my venture proved, it is most likely to get vaporized without a trace. And so with nonsucess, there creeps in emptiness. And the jaded philosophy follows.

But what the novel is trying to defy is the idea of nonactualisation. That there exist a world where all the crafted dreams and wishes swirl into absoluteness; where Oracles and luckdragons exist; where the Magic Mirror Gate challenges you to face your true self; and where the Swamps of Sadness'venom subvert you to flimsiness.

They are all real, even how surreal they may appear. Because like what I always say, there are many truths. And with the many other truths come the different realities. There's a world out there called Phantásien where everything is created by a child's dreams and wishes. By a kid named Bastian.

I wish to become Bastian once more. I do think I am always the kid Bastian but a few of his facet faded as I confront the incessant rejections of my life. While it is true that I still hold that naive voice of a child with a little trust to what his hands are capable off, the courage to initiate dreams and wishes dwindled. And so is the adventure.

I felt like I have given away everything, trusting people, acting like a total fool. But then I remember, all travelers who seek adventures must be a fool. After all, we dreamers are always fool, yes?

Now, I want to create many wishes. I want to collect many wishes. Because I want many adventures.

But there's a warning.

While the mystical object AURYN (pardon, in the novel it is always spelled all in upper cases) grants your wishes, words are etched on its back that says: do what you wish.

I must remember that not all wishes are right. There are wishes that would make you forget your true self. There are wishes that might wipe away your memories. It's what happened to the same kid Bastian that must always be remembered. That at the end of the many wishes that set you on many adventures, find that one true wish that would lead you nowhere –but home.

But for now, relevant to what I’ve said 3 paragraphs ago, I WILL create many wishes. I WILL collect many wishes. I WILL set on many adventures and do exactly my wishes. I WILL dream again because my dreams are my treasures and they do exist. I WILL know the difference between dreams and fantasies. It won’t matter if I can. It won’t matter if I am hurt. I WILL have my dreams, wishes and countless unimaginable adventures. I WILL.

So for now, let me wrap up my sack and begin the adventures of my wishes. Until then, I will tell you my story –the neverending story.



To that blogger who challenged me to write...well I didn't really know what you challenged me to write about, but this is it. You're too nice. Thank you. 


“The Neverending Story” by Michael Ende

Wednesday, February 2, 2011

Conversazione di Dante e Virgil

as dreamed and altered by Désolé Boy

"Lasciate ogne speranza, voi ch'intrate"
Abandon all hope, ye who enter here

Canto, 1

Dante:     Halfway along my life's path, 
                in this dark night before Good Friday...

Virgil:      And it was alas, here in Inferno.
                 In this basso loco (deep place). 
                 Dirrita via (straight away).

Dante:      But why, am I mistaken?

Virgil:      You are not far from the fortune teller. 
                 Il contrapasso.

Virgil:       They had their faces twisted toward their haunches
                 and found it necessary to walk backward,
                 because they could not see ahead of them.
                 ...and since you wanted to see ahead,
                 you look behind and walk a backward path.
                 (Inferno, Canto XX, lines 13-15 & 38-39) 

Dante:     No longer I could sleep when I left my sane
                That exactly how 
                 I entered that wild place
                 It's impossible. It is.

Virgil:      If you hope to escape this wild ground,
                you must take another way around.
                For this beast that makes you quiver
                and cry out in dread
                is sullen but faint.

Dante:    Fortunate are those collected
                in blessedness about his High throne
                happy are those He has elected.

Virgil:     Later you'll see those to whom the raging fire's cure
               Brings contentment, for such cleansing they hope one day 
               To enter the ranks of the blessed and pure.
Virgil:    Would you come?
               Are you prepared to beseech thee?

Dante:   Poet, I beseech you with that God unknown
               Help me escape my present state.
               Oh, have pity on me. Have pity on me.
               Lead me on that journey you relate.
               So that I may see those you paint so sorrowed.
               And stand myself before Saint Peter's gate.

Canto, 2
Virgil moved and so Dante followed behind. 

Parts taken and altered by the author from the original The Divine Comedy by Dante Alighieri 
No intention to plagiarize. 

Image taken from here

Tuesday, February 1, 2011


"'We were sullen in the sweet air that rejoices in the sun, carrying within ourselves a sluggish smoke; now we are sullen in the black mire.'"
-Canto 7, lines 121-124, Inferno -La Divina Commedia 

One, two, three...
a white half-buttoned shirt.

four, five, six...
a house that sprang from magazine leaves.

seven, eight, nine...
flashes of yellow and green.

ten, eleven...
dagger at hand.

a half yard distance. 

thirteen, fourteen, fifteen...
17 battalions of navy. 

sixteen, seventeen...
swirls of caramel.

eighteen, nineteen, twenty...
a fallen bucket of spits. 

twenty one...
a pupil. 

twenty two, twenty three...
a blackened rainbow of sleepless days. 

twenty four...
a frail voice of andare in fallimento.  

Trail back the counting. But never stop to One. 


"Henriade" by François-Marie Arouet

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