“Miracles are a retelling in small letters of the very same story which is written across the whole world in letters too large for some of us to see.” – C.S. Lewis
Phenomenon – A Pileus Iridescent Cloud – Horns– Photo taken by XYLDRAE DIANE JACOB BILLER from Caramoan Islands, Camarines Sur, Philippines | See also nasa.gov.
“Miracles are not contrary to nature, but only contrary to what we know about nature.” – Saint Augustine
Phenomenon – A Pileus Iridescent Cloud – Halo– Photo taken by XYLDRAE DIANE JACOB BILLER from Caramoan Islands, Camarines Sur, Philippines | See also | See also nasa.gov.
A Song saying “MIRACLES ARE COMMON, SO BELIEVE IT AND BEHOLD IT” :
Some Related Posts
On what expense does a man bare his soul
to a woman he does not intend to keep?
And on what expense does a man keep
a woman he does not intend to bare his soul with?
Excerpts from On What Expense.
Read More in poetry.xyldrae.com!
A million smiles, I’ve lost to the world…
Your absence breaks my heart in vain…
You make me feel, strange currents move my skin;
Your touches storm the rain away…
A million kisses would make me breathe easy
I think that words are just so empty
Sing me a song…
Such Art in your eyes….
Just live in this moment with me….
Don’t run away….
Let’s make it together….
Don’t run away….
Believe in forever….
This is an original song (which is actually a love song) and collaboration between me, my cousin Doll for lyrics and vocals, and The Pissheads (Sam Osborne for vocals and bass and Gil Apuya for the lead guitar):
Who says you’ll never see the sky if you’re looking down? Haven’t you heard? God is everywhere and He makes all things work for the good of those who love Him.
(Photo taken along the water falls in Mt. Balagbag, Philippines)
The only way you could have convinced yourself that I’m a pessimist is by being one yourself.
The only freedom you’ll ever need
Is freedom from yourself.
The sweetest thing a person can do to you
is to do the sweetest thing to you and then do you wrong. Right?
… and when all you claim to need to live
is to have my world revolve around you,
live for you,
I find it very unnecessary to die for you.
You don’t really have to give me the whole damn world when I’ve spent my entire life in struggle so now I am apart from it.
And of course, you will never understand if you don’t listen first.
How can a person respond to a person who’s asking for something you’ve already given, and given in its best form?
Some actions would appear and come to you like an assault of flying daggers, but if your heart can only see the intentions behind them… you’d know you were never the target.
If you so believe in choice, why do you call yourself a slave of circumstance?
Life is not like a box of chocolates these days. People seem to always know what they’re gonna get. And people seem to want to always know what they’re gonna get. Where are all the people who actually want to live???
You keep on looking at me like some sort of mirror. Is that why you’re breaking me?
You keep on looking at her like some sort of mirror. Is that why you keep trying to break her?
You keep on looking at him like some sort of mirror. Is that why you love him?
Do you know how the uneducated take opinionated news? Of course you do! It clearly shows in your opinions.
Okay…. If you want me to be “Marcia f****** Braidy” all you have to do is carry on with your fantasy whilst I live my life in the real world. Kindly excuse me.
How typical our response to anger is…. Aren’t you all bored with that?
Taking responsibility and being responsible are two different actions. It’s nice to have them come together…
What if? What if? What if? Are you a fool to obsess with making me think like you? No thanks, but I am truly grateful for what is, what is, what is, what was, what was, what was, and what will, what will, what will. And for someone who doesn’t bother to know the difference, just dismiss yourself on your own accord, then I’ll be glad to finally talk.
You make it sound right. 😉 Take a hint! Good luck!
He is a hero because he died saving someone else’s life. He’s human and divine because he had the heart to make that choice.
Everyone is a victim in any story. We just miss the fact that the antagonist is not among us and that the obvious solution and mission is co-existence which can only be achieved through love.
If it’s not pride, why does it overlook everything it tramples on?
“How do you kill a thing that has already died?” – Lonesome Minstrel
Give it life then kill it again.
Love… love… love…. why are people so obsessed with what it’s not?
Come to think of it…. let me just end this by telling you, I love you. 🙂
Can we really choose what we feel?
I saw a post that says “Misery is an option… Choose not…” I felt happy to behold someone, IN SPITE of the ugliness we trash in this beautiful universe with, stand up against Misery (and as always, I’m proud of You soldiers of Life!) Keen with context however, I had to comment the following:
1. “What does love look like? It has the hands to help others. It has the feet to hasten to the poor and needy. It has eyes to see misery and want. It has the ears to hear the sighs and sorrows of men. That is what love looks like.” – St. Augustine; LOOKS LIKE A PERSON ;)) ….created in Love’s own image and likeness… God is Love.
2. here’sanother one from some woman named Clarissa Pinkola Estes: ” It is inthe middle of misery that so much becomes clear. The one who say snothing good came of this is not yet listening.”
“When God loves a creature he wants the creature …to know the highest happiness and the deepest misery He wants him to know all that being alive can bring. That is his best gift. There is no happiness save in understanding the whole.” – Thornton Wilder
and the best of the best:
English Standard Version (©2001) :
“Sorrow is better than laughter, for by sadness of face the heart is made glad.” – Ecclesiastes 7:3
Not to refute, but to plainly express my mentality on the subject of “misery” or what I refer to as “raw emotions” as choices:
For me, “misery” (or any other “raw emotions” such as “love”, “anger”,”happiness” etc.) is not a choice but a natural happening in life and what we do with it are the real choices, whether we shrug it off ,declare its non-existence, grow from it or what not. Thus, overrating the power to chose to the point that we can not face the distinction between choices and naturally occurring truths, may make a person somewhat blind to the higher power, which is the power of God that can, from the worst, bring out the best. It’s okay to be miserable… but to choose to laugh, to bond, to love, to live, IN SPITE OF THAT MISERY which just makes you think and feel like just oozing it out to everyone and everything around you… that’s a good choice. That’s what I do. And when I can’t really take it anymore… I could at least choose to isolate myself from the world per chance to have a clearer, more intimate and personal salvation that can only come from God.
On 2010-02-10 – Wednesday, approximately 6:30a.m.
I was about to go outside our house when my peripheral view caught the stunning sight of a spider web and focus rendered it too huge to just pass by that anyone who wants to get out of the house must destroy the web. I stayed inside then and just gazed at the live works of God – A spider and its unique design which is its home-building ecology based on spider webs that only they can produce. It was a work in progress. I took a video but in the process of panning through the threads, destroyed the unfinished spider’s home unintentionally. 😦 Sorry.
As a freak of nature, I fear revenge. But then again, what’s more important is the question “What is God telling me in this rare experience?” Thus, the following thoughts:
– REMINDER: We ought to be keen with our surroundings and senses in order to not miss the beauty of God in His creations.
– We ought to be careful WHERE WE BUILD OUR HOME. The spider built its home where it was bound to be destroyed necessarily for others to be able to live their lives.
– Sometimes, we just randomly do things that are in the way of others. And being so, complications become inevitable.
– People will come and go. Sometimes, those who do, in the process, destroys something. But when God allows something to be destroyed, it’s to put you in place. Because the spider’s home was destroyed, it should then know better than to build a home in front of a human’s gate. Thus, learn and rebuild… in the right time and place.
– Building something grand requires redundant procedures such as the spider’s going round and round in circles to weave its home. Well… students’ academic routines build a grown up, qualified for larger responsibilities. Going to work every day builds a professional productively contributing to society. Stuff like that but what else? Perhaps we must reflect on our redundant routines and review whether they are necessary for greater things. Another redundant routine is our virtual activities. What good do they do? Many, of course, but not all of them are actually on to something good.
God speaks to us in many ways. For me, this is one of them.
LEAVING THE MOON
By Xyldrae Diane Espineda Jacob and Xyljon Noel Maano Jacob
As the car turned they were
Leaving the moon…
Footprints of houses, homes
Carried by tenacious flesh at legs’ edges
A road turn that turned new art old…
Rapid physics on perplex dimensions;
Star-written compositions of astronomy
Fashioned toward astrology…
Biology of souls
Biology out of bounds
Child or wanderer?
Or both? What do we know?
Howling breaths aside from taking them
Chants of the sufferers, slaves to Allure
Surfers of the unfamiliar
Surfaces of a fleeting rocket
Will an explosion occur?
It all began with leaving the moon…
ABOUT THIS POEM:
While driving my sister Wanna and her son Baby Jon to buy milk, the moon hanged beautifully on a thicket of clouds and a shy gathering of stars rendered a calm night. On one turn Baby Jon uttered: “MOMMY WE’RE LEAVING THE MOON! WE’RE LEAVING THE MOON!”
The statement called for a literary unfolding.
It was art night when this poem was created. In my Valhalla the kids came. Baby Vaughn said “Tata Di can you teach me how to make a poem?”. Baby Jon said “Tata Di can I draw?” So both had their pens and empty sheets. One wrote. The other drew. Baby Vaughn was unable to complete his first poem because Erasure made him decide not. Yet him and I constantly paid attention to the 3-yr old’s drawings. On one piece Baby Jon explained: “These are footprints of dinosaurs and …. ” I didn’t hear clearly. Then Baby Vaughn fondly smiled and said “Are you nuts? Only dinosaurs and chickens and animals and people have footprints.” Then I asked the latter, “but isn’t that what Baby Jon said?”… Baby Vaughn said (with a facial expression that connotes some sort of amusement to his Baby brother):
“No. He said ‘footprints of dinosaurs and houses and chickens and dogs…”
Then we both giggled while the littlest was busy with his masterpiece. I told Baby Vaughn, “Footprints of houses! That’s some kind of Imagination- Houses ought to have feet to have footprints. I find that statement very poetic.” Of course, I could not teach this adjective (poetic), yet, to a 6yr-old. So I just told him to carry on with his poetry and use imagination in such a way.
And that is how I came up with the poem “Leaving The Moon”. So since I’m using Baby Jon’s metaphors… He’s technically co-author. 😀
Baby Vaughn finished his first two lines of “The Big Kingdom”:
THE BIG KINGDOM
by Xylvaughn David Gonzales Jacob
The Big Kingdom is a beautiful kingdom
Where joyful people have lots of freedom
So there goes his first rhyme.
DECONSTRUCTING JIM MORRISON (Prose to lay off that Cinderella poem and elaborate a facebook profile pic description)
People have claimed that at the climax of Jim Morrison’s “mockery on God”, God took his life. He died.
Perhaps people say that upon perceiving some unconventional poetry of his such as this segment of one of his works:
And I remember
Stars in the shotgun
til the mind runs
Is it rolling, God
in the Persian Night?
On that, all I can say is this:
“In this meaningless life of mine I have seen both of these: a righteous man perishing in his righteousness, and a wicked man living long in his wickedness.” – Ecclesiastes 7:15
At first I thought Jim Morisson is an anti-Christ. But the more I read his works, poetry… the more I see and feel him seeking Christ. Besides, he most wrote His name with the appropriate capital letters, one thing that requires absolute belief and great reverence. Afterall… he speaks of the garden of Eden as he admits the worst he is in… and desperate to return… (“God’s strength is best seen in our weaknesses” says most people)… He pleads as a true believer:
“There’s a palace
in the canyon
where you & I
Now I’m a lonely Man
Let me back into
of the Canyon
I met you
& now you’re gone
& now my dream is gone
Let me back into your Garden
A man searching
for lost Paradise
Can seem a fool
to those who never
sought the other world
Where friends do lie and drift
Their own private gardens”
– excerpts from his “PARIS JOURNAL”
“I love those who love me, and those who seek me find me.”
– Proverbs 8:17
I do not know Jim Morrison personally. But from his genius works, lamentations perhaps, this Light I’ve found.
I use his poem TIME WORKS LIKE ACID in this profile picture:
TIME WORKS LIKE ACID – Jim Morrison
Time works like acid
You see time fly
The face changes as the heart beats
We are not constant
We are an arrow in flight
The sum of the angles of change
Her face changed in the car
eyes & skin & hair remain
the same. But a hundred similar
girls succeed each other
…because it says many different things, good and bad, challenging the perciever to behold God’s and man’s art, one of the two, or something plain superficial to be taken in a worldly manner. And perceptions change every second as sights do, even still photographs… Herein, “a hundred similar girls succeed each other”.
I only look down on people to understand their worst, and through their overcoming, behold their best whether the best has taken form or not.
By the way… I’m driven to write about Jim Morrison after a poetry-reading session with my Babes, Sherylene De La Cruz. We understand these things perfectly together, discussions unnecessary. After reading each other random works of his, epiphanies, we came up with our own scribbles:
As the wind blows, my knees weakened
and found myself in prayer.
The elements cast our heads bowed-
after shrinking’s end
Off to the tunnel of glory
casting away all the fury – Let there be
drought for deep awakening!
SOME KIND OF FUNERAL
Dirge for the superficial will,
And the geniuses in ghost-disguise.
A funeral for the
Look for that insight
Embedded on the estranged heart.
Be it welcomed. Nourished. Flourished.
No digging of shallow holes
Of/For the rotten.
But explore that Black Hole
That’s existence’s already to You known!
Was and Is
Always a part of You.
Everybody knows her story… branded Cinderella:
She was born. She lost her mother.
Some witch took over. She lost her father.
Her properties coveted by step-women.
One day with the help of pests for friends,
And her bored fairy godmother,
She catches the lead clown in a social circus most grand
Leaves one of her shoe pair upon unethical eluding
Per chance to be found.
And she was.
Clown boy puts her back in her original place
And they flatter happily ever after.
Here are the non-moral lessons:
Cinderella is a loser.
This has nothing to do with parental loss.
She simply lost her sense of self
When she chose to be coveted
She had no role in the story
Aside from being the conflict for the doers of deeds.
Pests got to be friends.
Fairy godmother existed purposely and looked good.
Clown boy is tagged heroic
And step-women were made necessary for all.
Okay. Okay. MORAL LESSON:
To be not mundane, know yourself and be.
A LITTLE LESS IN VAIN
If I could get some native to lean this rooftop pillar
Paint half his face with sunlight, radiance exact,
Take a snapshot and go
Send the photo to some Sherlock Holmes
To identify exactly when and where
My timestop has been missed…
It would be a little less in vain.
BLASPHEMY THROUGH SILENCE
Ennui is offspring to a fool and his continuity
They make such a horrid family
Casualty to awareness
Blasphemy through silence.
The Man With A Hoe By Edwin Markham and The Proper Study Of Mankind by Alexander Pope Plus Some Random Resolution and Thoughts
The Man with a Hoe by Edwin Markham
Bowed by the weight of centuries he leans
Upon his hoe and gazes on the ground,
The emptiness of ages in his face,
And on his back, the burden of the world.
Who made him dead to rapture and despair,
A thing that grieves not and that never hopes,
Stolid and stunned, a brother to the ox?
Who loosened and let down this brutal jaw?
Whose was the hand that slanted back this brow?
Whose breath blew out the light within this brain?
Is this the Thing the Lord God made and gave
To have dominion over sea and land;
To trace the stars and search the heavens for power;
To feel the passion of Eternity?
Is this the dream He dreamed who shaped the suns
And marked their ways upon the ancient deep?
Down all the caverns of Hell to their last gulf
There is no shape more terrible than this–
More tongued with cries against the world’s blind greed–
More filled with signs and portents for the soul–
More packed with danger to the universe.
What gulfs between him and the seraphim!
Slave of the wheel of labor, what to him
Are Plato and the swing of the Pleiades?
What the long reaches of the peaks of song,
The rift of dawn, the reddening of the rose?
Through this dread shape the suffering ages look;
Time’s tragedy is in that aching stoop;
Through this dread shape humanity betrayed,
Plundered, profaned and disinherited,
Cries protest to the Powers that made the world,
A protest that is also prophecy.
O masters, lords and rulers in all lands,
Is this the handiwork you give to God,
This monstrous thing distorted and soul-quenched?
How will you ever straighten up this shape;
Touch it again with immortality;
Give back the upward looking and the light;
Rebuild in it the music and the dream;
Make right the immemorial infamies,
Perfidious wrongs, immedicable woes?
O masters, lords and rulers in all lands,
How will the future reckon with this Man?
How answer his brute question in that hour
When whirlwinds of rebellion shake all shores?
How will it be with kingdoms and with kings–
With those who shaped him to the thing he is–
When this dumb Terror shall rise to judge the world,
After the silence of the centuries?
The Proper Study of Mankind by Alexander Pope
(My all-time favorite)
Know then thyself, presume not God to scan;
The proper study of Mankind is Man.
Plac’d on this isthmus of a middle state,
A being darkly wise, and rudely great:
With too much knowledge for the Sceptic side,
With too much weakness for the Stoic’s pride,
He hangs between; in doubt to act, or rest,
In doubt to deem himself a God, or Beast;
In doubt his Mind or Body to prefer,
Born but to die, and reas’ning but to err;
Alike in ignorance, his reason such,
Whether he thinks too little, or too much:
Chaos of Thought and Passion, all confus’d;
Still by himself abus’d, or disabus’d;
Created half to rise, and half to fall;
Great lord of all things, yet a prey to all;
Sole judge of Truth, in endless error hurl’d:
The glory, jest, and riddle of the world!
Go, wond’rous creature! mount where Science guides
Go, measure earth, weigh air, and state the tides;
Instruct the planets in what orbs to run,
Correct old Time, and regulate the Sun;
Go, soar with Plato to th’empyreal sphere,
To the first good, first perfect, and first fair;
Or tread the mazy round his follow’rs trod,
And quitting sense call imitating God;
As Eastern priests in giddy circles run,
And turn their heads to imitate the Sun.
Go, teach Eternal Wisdom how to rule –
Then drop into thyself, and be a fool!
Superior being, when of late they saw
A mortal man unfold all Nature’s law,
Admir’d such wisdom in an earthly shape,
And shew’d a NEWTON as we shew an Ape.
Could he, whose rules the rapid Comet bind,
Describe or fix one movement of his Mind?
Who saw its fires here rise, and there descend,
Explain his own beginning, or his end?
Alas what wonder! Man’s superior part
Uncheck’d may rise, and climb from art to art:
But when his own great work is but begun,
What Reason weaves, by Passion is undone.
Trace Science then, with Modesty thy guide;
First strip off all her equipage of Pride,
Deduct what is but Vanity, or Dress,
Or Learning’s Luxury, or Idleness;
Or tricks to shew the stretch of human brain,
Mere curious pleasure, ingenious pain:
Expunge the whole, or lop th’ excrescent parts
Of all, our Vices have created Arts:
Then see how little the remaining sum,
Which serv’d the past, and must the times to come!
SOME NEW YEAR’s RESOLUTION:
-> I shall never bury any castles and I will never be dragged by pessimists who don’t know they are. Instead, as a vigilant Christian and battlemaiden of our Lord, I must strive to expel the demons that diminish the efficiency of communication among people. Of course, achieve all these through Christ, in His Light and for Love, who is God.
-> No more emasculation of foolish pursuers, but otherwise.
-> No more mediocrity in writing. No more worldly expression. No more superficial concerns.
-> No more robotic routines. No more!
-> Pain gives us a sense of what matters. Never miss this Light, and never act on the emotion but act on the Light.
-> Never miss the glorious beauty in EVERYTHING. Never miss God’s beauty. FULLy allow one’s self to receive and live by His Love and splendor.
-> No more dead Prose.
-> For the sake of True Sanity, never procrastinate nor waste tolerance on mediocrity!
-> I AM MAKING DOUBT MY FRIEND TODAY AND EVERY DAY IT INCESSANTLY REACHES OUT TO ME, BUT TO MAGNIFY THE GREATER GOOD ATTAINABLE ONLY OUTSIDE MEDIOCRITY.
-> And of course, try to stop smoking. Hehehehe
-> Pessimists. The best of them would dread on good things you say containing words that don’t seem pleasant to their ears. Then they will tell you to get out of the dark while missing the Light that you shed.
-> Passivity and Ennui are some of the most powerful weapons of the Evil Ones. Sometimes, passivity parties in the Patience costume while Ennui presents itself strongly as irrelevant. To see through this, like Christ, one must constantly seek God.
-> Validation is a very powerful tool for both good and bad. Likewise for invalidation. Imagination + good intentions + validation/invalidation = mountains moved.
-> Great gifts seem to be curses. Great insight, great awareness, prophecy and strange things alike that are often misused. They simply are tamed with good intentions.
-> By touching one soul, you allow that soul to touch another and another and another. See how even VIRUS can be good. So in God’s own image and likeness, for His glory, make good out of everything!
-> Tinker thoughts. Tinker sights. Tinker everything until you see none but Light.
-> God is the best Lover there is.
-> Never say NO to GREATNESS! Know that you are, and be all-out your best self, flaunting the very unique being you are that no other person in the world can be. This way, you attract the right people and spare a lot from heartache and confusion, including yourself.
-> People will offer you a lot of things, mostly what don’t even belong to them. And this is most apparent in the context of courtship.
-> Romance is sacred. If it isn’t, it isn’t romance.
-> The difference between Patience and Passivity is that patience has a next move. Passivity doesn’t.
-> Each person has a connection to another. The active Christian always finds it.
Francois duke de La Rochefoucauld
“What is called liberality is often merely the vanity of giving.”
“Men have made a virtue of moderation to limit the ambition of the great, and to console people of mediocrity for their want of fortune and of merit.”
“If we resist our passions, it is more from their weakness than from our strength.”
“The refusal of praise is a desire to be praised twice.”
“Self-interest speaks all sorts of tongues, and plays all sorts of roles, even that of disinterestedness.”
Antoine de Saint-Exupery
“And now here is my secret, a very simple secret; it is only with the heart that one can see rightly, what is essential is invisible to the eye.”
“Love does not cause suffering: what causes it is the sense of ownership, which is love’s opposite”
“A designer knows he has achieved perfection not when there is nothing left to add, but when there is nothing left to take away.”
“For true love is inexhaustible; the more you give, the more you have. And if you go to draw at the true fountainhead, the more water you draw, the more abundant is its flow.”
When, in disgrace with fortune and men’s eyes,
I all alone beweep my outcast state,
And trouble deaf heaven with my bootless cries,
And look upon myself, and curse my fate,
Wishing me like to one more rich in hope,
Featured like him, like him with friends possess’d,
Desiring this man’s art, and that man’s scope,
With what I most enjoy contented least:
Yet in these thoughts myself almost despising,
Haply I think on thee, – and then my state,
Like to the lark at break of day arising
From sullen earth, sings hymns at heaven’s gate;
For thy sweet love remember’d such wealth brings
That then I scorn to change my state with kings.
To-morrow, and to-morrow, and to-morrow,
Creeps in this petty pace from day to day,
To the last syllable of recorded time;
And all our yesterdays have lighted fools
The way to dusty death. Out, out, brief candle!
Life’s but a walking shadow, a poor player,
That struts and frets his hour upon the stage,
And then is heard no more. It is a tale
Told by an idiot, full of sound and fury,
Let me not to the marriage of true minds
Admit impediments. Love is not love
Which alters when it alteration finds,
Or bends with the remover to remove:
O no! it is an ever-fixed mark
That looks on tempests and is never shaken;
It is the star to every wandering bark,
Whose worth’s unknown, although his height be taken.
Love’s not Time’s fool, though rosy lips and cheeks
Within his bending sickle’s compass come:
Love alters not with his brief hours and weeks,
But bears it out even to the edge of doom.
If this be error and upon me proved,
I never writ, nor no man ever loved.
When I consider how my light is spent,
Ere half my days in this dark world and wide,
And that one talent which is death to hide
Lodged with me useless, though my soul more bent
To serve therewith my Maker, and present
My true account, lest He returning chide,
‘Doth God exact day-labour, light denied?’
I fondly ask. But patience, to prevent
That murmur, soon replies, ‘God doth not need
Either man’s work or his own gifts. Who best
Bear his mild yoke, they serve him best. His state
Is kingly: thousands at his bidding speed,
And post o’er land and ocean without rest;
They also serve who only stand and wait.’
“Eric” – A Tribute to you Kuya…
I play a nocturne but the pain doesn’t go away…
The words are broken with so much I want to say
Every time I feel alone
I just look up in the sky and see you smiling down on me
Thoughts of you make me feel better even if I cry… even if I cry…
You are a hero and I will not mourn how you died
You are a hero and I will celebrate your life
No sweeter way to go than when you laid down your life for love
Take mine with you… See you at the crossroads… See you at the crossroads…
I want to be home with you just a little longer
To appreciate those times then I will be stronger,
Stronger as I believe in God’s will
In his time, we will surely heal…
Thoughts of you make me feel better even if I cry…
You are a hero and I watched you transcend into light…
You are a hero and I couldn’t stop you, when you gave your life…
And from every heart touched, from every life moved in one or another..
We send, we send our love…
Composers: Audrey R. Jacob, Xyldrae Diane E. Jacob, Carmela Balunso, Chezka R. Vidal, Lanelle Quirona
Starring Face Up….
Note the the following literature succeeding ‘Face Up’ are not related to the Images that go with it. 😀 And as for the poetry, their not exactly unique bits of my soul so I don’t mind plagiarizers at this point, though they will always be pitiful. There are some typographical errors along the way and I don’t have the time to copy edit. Some images are also do not have neat finishing coz they’re mostly scribbles in a hurry. Enjoy anyway!
Adobe Photoshop 7.0
Conquer all your deaths, face up. No matter how rotten you are by the flesh, your dignified soul will fly... People will think of you this way- Martyr. But you are not a slave of your mold. The real you is all out and untouchable. Know that as you wither, you grow... freed of soul-cage... So conquer . Live up.
My first real photo manipulation using GIMP in Ubuntu Linux -(Fiesty Fawn)
I feel empty without the pain of love I knew; I don't feel good enough with the better thing that's new ..Is it? I would rather not weep but feel, than shed a few shallow tears and not be tormented; I ache to be whole, not to be partly at ease.
Struck, Tripped and Fallen on Sullen GroundStill gimp Giving UpGiving up - is nothing but a statement man would use to confuse his soul. You only succeed in giving up... When you have finally ceased to care, to love, ...even one bit, and you will not! So far beyond your doom - most undesireable, Understand why tears actually shine, ...and touch you whole, even in the dark.. They are not telling the world of your pain... but of the light that transcends from your heart..
I don't know what version of photoshop she used.My friend Melody and I exchanged artworks. Here's what I got from her:
I wanna be a Plant
Haha the ancient adobe photoshop 7.0Maybe because she's all dead.. grieving melancholy bitter... Still tears, entrapped as they shatter... Maybe because she's all gone, after some obsolete appearance.. madness in existence.. an ancient horror for remembrance.. All throughout a petrified void.. Still lost but stolen - a forlorn though she drowns in a crowd as a good earthly meal - a societal spice not one of many.... But the rare imposibility, is she? Is there even a word you can modify to closely fit her? Maybe because she's dead not vitally.... yet she suffers indescribably....
Sharp Un Witty
still gimp!Just playin' around...
A Tale of Two Split Schizoids
the ancient 7.0I guess that means.... 8 or more!
One of my oldest... you know what software I used.
This Inevitability!What is this raging torment that engulfs within to wither... What is this inevitability! Mus I always suffer? Ever so depriving eventhough there's nothing more of me To steal! To covet! How long this mourning?! Must I ache forever, Must I cry out these massive bursts of negativity And search for tears to define pain - human!? No, this pain is beyond human.. It unstalks death and prolongs THE SACRIFICE CALLED 'LIFE' Must I shatter more and more though I am nothing whole?! Let it end!!! Free my lungs, shut my eyes And freeze them against the burning needles of inverted tears! Clean my heart, untouch my soul... Pity me, oh torment, Leave me be...
Wrath of the Damned
This was a really good photo to begin with. The editing was more on contrast alone with the ancient ap7.0Nothing. Just looking like Aaliyah, and complicating her death and life in me.
Yehey! I'm a konoha Ninja
MS PAINT! Kidding! Photoshop 7.0 obviously. Technique here is just to merge various filters so that the digital prints and the actual photo become one.Yes, I'm an avid Naruto fan!
1-AdobePhotoshop CS2; 2&3-GimpMy exchange pieces with Mark. See 'Uhaw pa sa Camel' in my links.
The Original Art Work before the one will dull scribbled red hairExcerpts from a Conversation: I want relaxing joys... Joys that aren't achieved over tremendous pressure. I want those that come in pearce, in kindness freely given, in love.... I want joy that does not demand a price or sacrifice... I want that plain emotion from time to time....
My exchange piece with Lhoody.
GIMPShe did better with that chicmag style above
I'm tired of publishing this! To be continued!...or not!
I curse blindness for being the only one who saw
I curse sweetness for being bitter the most
I curse fortitude that brought me to my fall
And I curse softness that inflicted crooked stillness,
Who inflicted pestilence, fierce and massive
I curse reality for being so fake
And I curse curses for cursing back at me
To end up desolate for what I’m fed up with…
To claim victory over my own defeat…
To wake up still in perennial slumber,
Drifting off to surrealism wide awake…
To think of thinking when the mind has only emptiness
All to end up knowing that you do not know
(I omitted the last lines!)
I am the true author of this poem. Paradox was first published in Heraldo Filipino, the Official Publication of De La Salle University – Dasmarinas (DLSU-D) Palad vol.4. Credits are at the back part of the booklet where you will find my name as author to this poem and many others. To those who have plagiarized it, stop faking your poor soul or you’ll never grow!
In the link below, I have found a post titled “Paradox on a Summer” which contains half of my “Paradox” and half of another poem of mine called “Quarry” :
ONE MORE PLAGIARIZER I’VE DISCOVERED: