i was (& still am) at the 'foreplay stage' of reading a book Dialogues: At One Inch Above the Ground by James W. Heisig when i feel the urge to write about religion & spirituality, subjects which i am very much enthusiastic to discuss & debate upon especially with my mom (which by the way i just had an argument with her a few moments before writing this).
i was born & raised as a catholic, groomed to follow a heritage of priests in the family. in fact, when i graduated from high school i was awarded acolyte of the year & was headed for the seminary for college. apparently, priesthood wasn't my vocation, nor was becoming a catholic for the rest of my life.
when i entered the university, let's say i was 'enlightened' & thus my search for spiritual growth began.
sophomore year, the period when a lot of things happened in my life. my son was born, i stopped doing drugs (for a while), & i stopped going to church, even doing the sign of the cross. it was a dynamic year of internal psycho-emotional flux.
i begin to question faith, religion, & the entire institution we thrive in. i became interested in other religions in order to satisfy my longing for the idea they call GOD. the only good thing about the constant flux of opposing ideas raging in my thoughts is that never in my entire existence i lost my belief in the Supreme Consciousness.
there came a time when i wanted to convert into Islam but eventually became discouraged because of the fact that the teachings in Qur'an are contradictory to each other (same is true with the Christian Bible). & one very interesting point to be noted in the passages in Qur'an is the fact that it justifies the use of force towards non-believers,& the minority role of women in the society.
with the frustration i've encountered with Islam i came back to the aid of catholicism, but again it failed me. the dark history of the church i.e. crusades & inquisition, vatican scandals scarred it badly that no matter how i try to paint it out of the picture the stains will always be there. i cannot lie to myself.
for months i became a drifter, a wanderer in the endless desert of emptiness. i browsed from one book after another in the hopes of finding a religion that would satisfy me. i went thought the core teachings of each & every religions of east & west e.g. Judaism, Hinduism, Buddhism, Taoism, the Eastern Orthodox Church, & other sects of Christianity, only to come up with a concrete conclusion: every one of them believe in the existence of GOD.
therefore i said to myself, why am i in constant search for a religion to follow when they all believe in the same thing? dogmas & doctrines are nothing but practices that distinguish one from the other, same as the name they call GOD.
although my spiritual life is far from maturity, being vegetarian & following tantra yoga practices is a head start for my spiritual revolution.i remain confident that i have made the right choice not to follow a certain belief system, & continue my journey to self-realization alongside with doing service to humanity.
i really find it funny watching tv evangelists mudslinging, throwing curses against each other in order to prove whose religion is true & whose is false. i also find it annoying when people try to persuade me to become a follower of their faith using dogma as a tool for preaching. and i really hate it when people discriminate others on religious grounds (i must say my mom is guilty of that when she reprimands me on my spiritual practice).
therefore i ask myself, why am i in constant search for a religion to follow, when every one of them believes in one thing? why must i practice a specific religion when i can follow the basic teaching of charity, compassion, & love without dogmas & doctrines?
instead of becoming a unifying force, religion caused (& is still causing) conflicts & the division of humanity.
wouldn't it be wonderful to live in a world where everyone can practice his or her chosen path towards righteousness?
imagine.
Wednesday, December 12, 2007
Thursday, November 22, 2007
dream catcher
entangled thread and twisted coil
vision of chaos and turmoil
endless circumnavigation;
journey of mystification.
puzzle to ensnare sensations
webbed prayer constantly binding
reality from illusions;
whispers in flight softly passing.
vision of chaos and turmoil
endless circumnavigation;
journey of mystification.
puzzle to ensnare sensations
webbed prayer constantly binding
reality from illusions;
whispers in flight softly passing.
Friday, October 12, 2007
seek, liberate, love
to liberate the world, one has to liberate oneself.
break free from inhibitions, dig to the core of your anima, set your soul in a conflagration of desires.
love someone, for the state fears those who love. for love is a weapon far destructive than any bomb in the world's arsenal.
run, lose yourself. turn away from the norms that became the chasm of love and lover. if you are a woman who loves a woman, or a man who loves a man, or a being who loves both, or someone who loves someone, among others, follow the cry of your heart.
love not because of security and stability, but because of the enigma it brings you the moment you find someone who takes your breath away.
the world is cruel, yet it's sweet. it is a concoction of feelings, desires, heartaches, bitterness, suffering, bliss, et cetera, et cetara.
bring down the walls of injustice, the barriers that confine you from illicit longings. be insane!
be weird, if it means being free from the dictates of rottenness.
confront oppression as you confront death; passionately.
seek yourself, the sacrosanct of your existence.
break free from inhibitions, dig to the core of your anima, set your soul in a conflagration of desires.
love someone, for the state fears those who love. for love is a weapon far destructive than any bomb in the world's arsenal.
run, lose yourself. turn away from the norms that became the chasm of love and lover. if you are a woman who loves a woman, or a man who loves a man, or a being who loves both, or someone who loves someone, among others, follow the cry of your heart.
love not because of security and stability, but because of the enigma it brings you the moment you find someone who takes your breath away.
the world is cruel, yet it's sweet. it is a concoction of feelings, desires, heartaches, bitterness, suffering, bliss, et cetera, et cetara.
bring down the walls of injustice, the barriers that confine you from illicit longings. be insane!
be weird, if it means being free from the dictates of rottenness.
confront oppression as you confront death; passionately.
seek yourself, the sacrosanct of your existence.
Thursday, October 11, 2007
not a story for a lovely morning
i really don't know what to write about, i just feel like pushing my pen down. i haven't had enough night time sleep the past few days, close to living up to the definition of hominus nocturnus in vampiric tales. but in reality, i'm far from immortality.
i woke up at around 5:00am, thanks to my nagging mother uttering endlessly towards my father. i'm used to her echoing ballad of curses and sermons but not during the wee hours where i'm still struggling to slumber. it really couldn't get better than this.
one thing i really don't like in a woman is a nagging breathhole. haha don't get me wrong here. i love my mother, i even slept beside her the other night because my baby sister's using my room's 'borrowed' pc to finish her research paper (which gave me a hell of a headache to edit and edit and edit). however, if i am to commit, i'd choose someone who doesn't talk like an automatic rifle is stuffed in her mouth firing at 3000 rounds a minute. haha
i rouse myself from my odor-stricken mat and made my way to the fridge, hoping to grab myself a bottle of beer only to find a pitcher of water and a bunch of eggs (not a pretty site for a thirsty fellow). i gulped a couple of glass, head for the john and relieved myself of a deceitful morning glory (hey, i only took a piss and did not do the 'm' word).
as i made my way back to my room, i barely noticed the ceasefire. i was again relieved by the silence of the atmosphere and tucked myself, trying hard again to journey into slumberland.
and then again, a grenade was lunched, followed by a thunderous scream from my mother's bazoo. a maraud of words of unwisdom echoed through the walls, and my journey was cut short.
when is this going to end!?
i woke up at around 5:00am, thanks to my nagging mother uttering endlessly towards my father. i'm used to her echoing ballad of curses and sermons but not during the wee hours where i'm still struggling to slumber. it really couldn't get better than this.
one thing i really don't like in a woman is a nagging breathhole. haha don't get me wrong here. i love my mother, i even slept beside her the other night because my baby sister's using my room's 'borrowed' pc to finish her research paper (which gave me a hell of a headache to edit and edit and edit). however, if i am to commit, i'd choose someone who doesn't talk like an automatic rifle is stuffed in her mouth firing at 3000 rounds a minute. haha
i rouse myself from my odor-stricken mat and made my way to the fridge, hoping to grab myself a bottle of beer only to find a pitcher of water and a bunch of eggs (not a pretty site for a thirsty fellow). i gulped a couple of glass, head for the john and relieved myself of a deceitful morning glory (hey, i only took a piss and did not do the 'm' word).
as i made my way back to my room, i barely noticed the ceasefire. i was again relieved by the silence of the atmosphere and tucked myself, trying hard again to journey into slumberland.
and then again, a grenade was lunched, followed by a thunderous scream from my mother's bazoo. a maraud of words of unwisdom echoed through the walls, and my journey was cut short.
when is this going to end!?
Saturday, October 6, 2007
Anathema!
I am on the brink of self-termination, all because it seems my life is heading nowhere, a dead-end, a mess. Every night before I retire myself to the state of unconsciousness, I pray that I won’t make it in the morning. I pop a dozen of valium pills to expedite my expiration but I guess my body’s too immune to give in. Probably I’ll utilize cyanide next time.
I lie in my odor-filled chamber reading novels, trying to be productive in my imagining. And in the past months I have read quite a number, which I used to think was very a impossible ‘achievement’ for a fellow of very narrow attention span as myself. And when I ran out of books to burn in my thoughts, I resort to browsing over an ancient Webster and a pocket thesaurus enriching my poverty-stricken vocabulary. In my hunger for words I wrote poetry when boredom strikes. And so I dubbed my poetry, if you consider them as such, ‘products of unproductiveness’, and proclaimed myself a poet in hybernation.
I admit to myself that I am cursed, if not a curse itself, and that in the course of my existence I have made flaws that altered my life beyond regret. If only I could turn back time, a cliché for those who are frustrated, but it runs through my thoughts endlessly.
My former self has become a stranger even to me. It seems like eons since I genuinely felt bliss, and no amount of ice cream or pizza, two of my few vanities if I may put it, can bring me back to my childish nature.
Childish, yes you read it right. I was carefree, like a child in the rain or a bird in flight. I care for nothing except getting my candy to lick. I still play in the rain though, only to cry and pour my sadness out of my system hoping the water will wash it away. At the same time wishing the rain will bridge my longing to whoever listens to the cries of my wretched anima.
Anathema! I am forsaken!
I lie in my odor-filled chamber reading novels, trying to be productive in my imagining. And in the past months I have read quite a number, which I used to think was very a impossible ‘achievement’ for a fellow of very narrow attention span as myself. And when I ran out of books to burn in my thoughts, I resort to browsing over an ancient Webster and a pocket thesaurus enriching my poverty-stricken vocabulary. In my hunger for words I wrote poetry when boredom strikes. And so I dubbed my poetry, if you consider them as such, ‘products of unproductiveness’, and proclaimed myself a poet in hybernation.
I admit to myself that I am cursed, if not a curse itself, and that in the course of my existence I have made flaws that altered my life beyond regret. If only I could turn back time, a cliché for those who are frustrated, but it runs through my thoughts endlessly.
My former self has become a stranger even to me. It seems like eons since I genuinely felt bliss, and no amount of ice cream or pizza, two of my few vanities if I may put it, can bring me back to my childish nature.
Childish, yes you read it right. I was carefree, like a child in the rain or a bird in flight. I care for nothing except getting my candy to lick. I still play in the rain though, only to cry and pour my sadness out of my system hoping the water will wash it away. At the same time wishing the rain will bridge my longing to whoever listens to the cries of my wretched anima.
Anathema! I am forsaken!
Friday, September 21, 2007
In a very untimely point of my
Life, I had you; the most precious gift
Of all any man could wish and dream for.
Victory it was seeing you came into this world. And my
Existence found a meaning in you.
You are my reflection, and no
One could replace my angel, my inspiration.
Until eternity, I will cloak you like a
Zealot, in this life and hereafter; for
You are my blood, my life;
From the day you saw light, ‘til it dims with time.
Life, I had you; the most precious gift
Of all any man could wish and dream for.
Victory it was seeing you came into this world. And my
Existence found a meaning in you.
You are my reflection, and no
One could replace my angel, my inspiration.
Until eternity, I will cloak you like a
Zealot, in this life and hereafter; for
You are my blood, my life;
From the day you saw light, ‘til it dims with time.
rainbow's edge
In the midst of darkness I see no light
I burn like hell yet the sun is nowhere in sight
No beasts that roam, no birds in flight
Deep within the shadows, they lure me
Fool me with gold, wine and money
Wasting while others thrive in misery
Will this world be the same again?
A question I’ve been asking a million times
In different words and a handful of rhymes
Are we paving our way to the end?
What will we become after this demise?
Will we survive, live in paradise?
Where does the path we’re taking go?
Could it be at the end of the colorless rainbow?
I burn like hell yet the sun is nowhere in sight
No beasts that roam, no birds in flight
Deep within the shadows, they lure me
Fool me with gold, wine and money
Wasting while others thrive in misery
Will this world be the same again?
A question I’ve been asking a million times
In different words and a handful of rhymes
Are we paving our way to the end?
What will we become after this demise?
Will we survive, live in paradise?
Where does the path we’re taking go?
Could it be at the end of the colorless rainbow?
paglalakbay
isang araw na naman ang bumungad upang simulan
isang paglalakbay na 'di alam kung kayang malagpasan
ang mga naka-ambang pagsubok sa kabilang anyo ng mundong
malawak at makabago;ng magulong buhay at kulturang halu-halo
ito ay paglalakbay na nagnanais matunton
ang buong pagkatao, tunay na lakas, bulong ng puso
na ‘di naa-alintana ng dikta ng kapatagan
at ng kaugaliang nabahiran ng kasinungalingan
o ng batas ng tao na nilikha para ang buhay natin ay gawing marupok na masaya
ang paglalakbay upang makamtan ang mithing kapalaran
na ‘di pinapansin ang pangungutya ng mga bulag sa katotohanan
ang paglalakbay na pupukaw sa damdamin na ‘di lang tungkulin ang ipagtanggol ang natitira ngunit nakaukit sa tadhana na ibalik ang mga 'di na namulatang nilikha
nagawa sa loob ng maikling panahon ang ina-akalang masagana
ngunit milyong taon ang ginugol upang mailikha ang tunay na kahanga-hanga
itong paglalakbay ang magsasabi na ang tao ay di likas na loko-loko;
ngunit ang ginagawa natin ang nagbabahid sa ating anyo
ang kasakiman upang makamit ang karangyaan at kapangyarihan ang
nagdadala sa atin sa ating madugong katapusan.
isang paglalakbay na 'di alam kung kayang malagpasan
ang mga naka-ambang pagsubok sa kabilang anyo ng mundong
malawak at makabago;ng magulong buhay at kulturang halu-halo
ito ay paglalakbay na nagnanais matunton
ang buong pagkatao, tunay na lakas, bulong ng puso
na ‘di naa-alintana ng dikta ng kapatagan
at ng kaugaliang nabahiran ng kasinungalingan
o ng batas ng tao na nilikha para ang buhay natin ay gawing marupok na masaya
ang paglalakbay upang makamtan ang mithing kapalaran
na ‘di pinapansin ang pangungutya ng mga bulag sa katotohanan
ang paglalakbay na pupukaw sa damdamin na ‘di lang tungkulin ang ipagtanggol ang natitira ngunit nakaukit sa tadhana na ibalik ang mga 'di na namulatang nilikha
nagawa sa loob ng maikling panahon ang ina-akalang masagana
ngunit milyong taon ang ginugol upang mailikha ang tunay na kahanga-hanga
itong paglalakbay ang magsasabi na ang tao ay di likas na loko-loko;
ngunit ang ginagawa natin ang nagbabahid sa ating anyo
ang kasakiman upang makamit ang karangyaan at kapangyarihan ang
nagdadala sa atin sa ating madugong katapusan.
A Realization
A new day unfolds when we are about to partake
In a journey in which we’re not sure if we’ll make
It to the other side of this vast and modern world
Of busy lifestyle and diverse cultures;
definable by a handful of words
It is but a journey in which we chose to track
Our own identity, our own strength, our own desires;
without being distracted
By the influence of the lowland or by the norms of society
Or by any law created to make our life miserably happy
It is our journey to reach our goal no matter what people
May say that we are but fools who just make our lives;
more complicated more tiring, more crucial
A journey that unfolds that in our hearts it is not just our duty
to protect what was left but
It is destiny to try to bring back what was there beforehand
It took us decades to build what we believed was glory
Although in truth it took eons to create what was certifiably marvelous
In return we took quite a stand to appreciate as well as alleviate
The deteriorating status of our so-called habitat
A journey that will tell that what we are doing are inhumane
yet man by nature is not created insane
It is but the lust for power and luxury that made this world a living hell.
In a journey in which we’re not sure if we’ll make
It to the other side of this vast and modern world
Of busy lifestyle and diverse cultures;
definable by a handful of words
It is but a journey in which we chose to track
Our own identity, our own strength, our own desires;
without being distracted
By the influence of the lowland or by the norms of society
Or by any law created to make our life miserably happy
It is our journey to reach our goal no matter what people
May say that we are but fools who just make our lives;
more complicated more tiring, more crucial
A journey that unfolds that in our hearts it is not just our duty
to protect what was left but
It is destiny to try to bring back what was there beforehand
It took us decades to build what we believed was glory
Although in truth it took eons to create what was certifiably marvelous
In return we took quite a stand to appreciate as well as alleviate
The deteriorating status of our so-called habitat
A journey that will tell that what we are doing are inhumane
yet man by nature is not created insane
It is but the lust for power and luxury that made this world a living hell.
Monday, September 17, 2007
missing
in utter silence
i thrive in misery
the longing of you;
a weakness engulfing
bare and trodden
petty mockery
the needing grows
a curse yet enchanting
the absence of you
is life drifting
i walk not in darkness
but in deceiving light
empty and barren;
i ought to be
striving but stagnant
a pitiful plight
i sob and i mourn
insanity at reach
my longing for you
is my longing indeed.
i thrive in misery
the longing of you;
a weakness engulfing
bare and trodden
petty mockery
the needing grows
a curse yet enchanting
the absence of you
is life drifting
i walk not in darkness
but in deceiving light
empty and barren;
i ought to be
striving but stagnant
a pitiful plight
i sob and i mourn
insanity at reach
my longing for you
is my longing indeed.
young one's cry
Grazing in the concrete pavements
A new breed of cattle’s lurking the streets
Blazing into crowded uncertainty
A disease, sickened picture of society
High above the towers masters looking down
Counting all their profit from cattle’s on the ground
They cultivate the tarmac, planted iron trees
Building temporary shelters, rotten facilities
Out there in the shadows, wolves are rallying
Choosing their own targets, howls are deafening
They wanted to avoid it, tired of being predators
Yet somehow they have to attack with remorse
The masters seem not worried, doesn’t even care
He let the hungry predators take some to their lair
He hears the cattle shouting, the screams consume the air
Yet the master paid no attention, he’s got a lot of spare
Now the tarmacs cold and bloody stench of flesh abound
Vultures gather scavenging around
Remaining herds rush for shelter, knocking for mercy
But the masters turn their back, blinded by hypocrisy
When will the running end, cried the younger one
Will these go on tomorrow, after the day I’m gone
Will my children suffer the same fate, the way we do right now
Can we not find a way, to put a halt somehow?
A new breed of cattle’s lurking the streets
Blazing into crowded uncertainty
A disease, sickened picture of society
High above the towers masters looking down
Counting all their profit from cattle’s on the ground
They cultivate the tarmac, planted iron trees
Building temporary shelters, rotten facilities
Out there in the shadows, wolves are rallying
Choosing their own targets, howls are deafening
They wanted to avoid it, tired of being predators
Yet somehow they have to attack with remorse
The masters seem not worried, doesn’t even care
He let the hungry predators take some to their lair
He hears the cattle shouting, the screams consume the air
Yet the master paid no attention, he’s got a lot of spare
Now the tarmacs cold and bloody stench of flesh abound
Vultures gather scavenging around
Remaining herds rush for shelter, knocking for mercy
But the masters turn their back, blinded by hypocrisy
When will the running end, cried the younger one
Will these go on tomorrow, after the day I’m gone
Will my children suffer the same fate, the way we do right now
Can we not find a way, to put a halt somehow?
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