10.28.07
Posted in 2007 Mosaic at 9:44 pm by Miracle ♪♫
Approximately half a month to go and 365 circadian routines shall
be added to my years of existence. Then
nature shall internally bequeath my 23rd ring like that of Dendrochronology (but in this case, Mirachronology), and I can only thank God for the marvelous
years of love, life, and music.
- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -
Surely goodness and mercy have followed me during those
twenty three years, despite being unworthy. God has endowed me with a family that I would not trade for anything
else in this world.
My cup runneth over, brimming with overwhelming blessings –
spiritual blessings above all. My
incapability of hating even those who hurt me has been one of the many divine results
of His gifts called Peace and Joy.
Though I have walked through the valley… through dark times,
through the murky shadows of regret and heart pangs, I have been comforted. He sent me radiant friends as instruments of alleviation
and enlightenment.
He restoreth my soul. He gently leads my heart that tends to stray, and guides me to His
path. May I remain ever faithful.
He maketh me to lie down in green pastures… giving me a home
and reassurance in the hearts of the kindred spirits in my life, and in His
Word most importantly.
The Lord is my shepherd, I shall not want…
for he has given
me everything I need.
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10.27.07
Posted in Uncategorized at 7:27 pm by Miracle ♪♫
An addition to my "Reyes collection." ;-)
Luv
by Jeremiah Reyes
The man, exasperated, cries out!
“Not your lab!
Like overfed and bleary eyed pigeons! Going crroo, croo, and wobbling
pudgy from side to side. Surely not that! Not batting eyelashes and
demure flirtations! and tiny hearts all twinkling around a first-sight
romance. Please not the sexy-pinks, and the hunky-hunks, and the
innocent innuendos. And all this amounting to a little more than a thin
string attachment: your lab, or luv, or anything a letter less than.
But
something else please, because you know that the world is a dreary
place, with people dying on the streets, and night-crimes being done in
the deeper alleys of our souls. And they’re building railways and
overpasses and wire fences now over our sacred spaces, and malls are
popping up like happy tumors. Where from every side we are being
crushed and smothered by Monoliths of desire: to buy, and taste, and
discard. And yet forever cursed to be regretful and guilty, like groggy
aftersex mornings. And all you can muster in self-defense are your
fluffy-liberal clichés, about life, about love in general, garnered
from an award-winning indie movie and the newest erotic novel. And all
you have as a shield is a see-through sentimentality, like a
silkscreen, to thwart the clawing, rapacious, demons.
But
please, rather, give me Love! Oh, dear Lord, Love as deadly and lean as
a Knife! Something to slice all these excesses, these kinky-eyed
sentiments that grow like a sultry fungus. Give me Love like Blinding
Light, like a Laser, to cut out the world’s ever growing cancer. Lay me
down on the operating table, and open up my innermost being to perform
open heart and open mind surgery. Give me love that is willing to die,
willing to bleed, willing to thrust my own Heart with a rusty blade.
Give me love that seeks purity through the furnace, the love that knows
what Sacrifice is, and Faith, and seeks to pay what can never be repaid.
Give
me Love, like the red, glowing Sun, laughing, laughing, over the city
rooftops. Like the Sun, serene and severe, as it hovers above the Holy
horizon, and above the mighty messes of men.”
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Posted in Uncategorized at 2:04 am by Miracle ♪♫
———————————————————————-
October 27, 2007
Sad, sad people… still hoping, still desperately seeking, still yearning… for what they already have.
———————————————————————-
October 26, 2007
I sing in silence…
———————————————————————-
October 25, 2007
“Do you still love him?” sang a haunting voice.
“Do you still love him?” another vocalized.
“Do you still love him?” in tenor and bass.
Then a tutti, a
mighty chorus,
“Do you still love him?”
———————————————————————-
October 24, 2007
After all those times of snickering at malapropisms and
basking in the festivity of other people’s wrong grammar, I have finally caught myself guilty
of committing the same blunder. Skimming
through Marie Vic’s page and reviewing my previous comments for her, my eyes
caught an unsightly line under my name…
“As I’ve wrote on my YM status…” ha ha ha
…and to think I wrote that on an editor’s page! *blush*
I have been punished… so, being fair to all those I’ve laughed at, please be assured that I laugh at myself, too. hehehe =P
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10.23.07
Posted in Uncategorized at 6:49 pm by Miracle ♪♫
When you gather that I
have ebbed from my entity,
or ceased from what we on earth call “caring,”
You shall find me in the wind, in the air.
Feel my sentiments touch your face,
and breathe me into your life.
Find me in a cloudburst, in every raindrop,
quenching thirsty crevices of your soul.
Find me in hopeful auroras
and enchanting gloamings,
in fanfaring rays of the glorious sun.
Find me in the sky,
in hues of blue and scintillating stars.
Find me in the ground you tread on,
in grains of sand,
and plant what’s left of life to grow.
Read me in a book,
in a riddling sentence,
in a puzzling character,
that only you can decipher.
Listen for me in a cry, in a loving whisper,
in chimes of laughter,
in music;
music of angels,
music of men,
music of time,
music of nature,
and sing me. Sing us.
Find me in a pause,
in ripples, in silence.
Find me in eternal time,
in the future, present, and past that are one.
You shall find me in your shadow, your umbra…
Find me in you.
Return to Home Page
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Posted in Uncategorized at 4:52 am by Miracle ♪♫
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10.16.07
Posted in 2007 Mosaic at 8:47 pm by Miracle ♪♫
“What makes you different makes you beautiful to me…” Mae
sang, and handed me a page from a yellow pad with the handwritten lyrics several
years ago.
That was the first time I heard that song, and I was
touched.
Until now, the song’s significance in my life will be so
much more than a mere Backstreet Boys hit – I was even surprised to learn that
they authored it.
Among my peers, I was never in rank with the head-turners
and heart-throbs… but being different, made me feel content and satisfied. (However, with the ascent of personality
plagiarists, I am no longer that different – but let’s not go there
once again. Haha)
I am writing this for the reason that I have been
unlovely. In the Bible (KJV), 1 Peter 3:3 and 4 admonishes “…whose adorning let it not be
that outward adorning of plaiting the hair, and of wearing of gold, or putting
on of apparel; but let it be the hidden man of the heart, in that which is not
corruptible, even the ornament of a meek and quiet spirit, which is in the sight
of God of great price.” Lately, I have permitted my quiet spirit to be overcome
with a deafening spirit which is far from meek. I have found myself extremely ugly… but with God’s help, He shall make
me beautiful in His time.
I need to constantly ask myself, “what makes you beautiful?” and aspire for the day that I shall be able to have 1 Peter 3:3-4 as an answer.
How about you… what makes you beautiful?
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10.14.07
Posted in 2007 Mosaic at 6:23 pm by Miracle ♪♫
The intimidating journalist you left without saying goodbye.
She who wanted to believe when you said she was the best. She who writes about you… winning “Pulitzers” for them – acclaim she does not even desire.
Her you dismissed…
because she was from another planet…
and she was deviant…
because a hungry world needed you.
That miserable world is trying to weigh her down because Miss Eerie loves company.
That world is using her… using her words, using her thoughts, to feed a starving bond relying on words to fuel its axis.
Personality plagiarism – the hibbijibbies.
That world has many faces.
You are only seeing one.
You are its sun, but that cannot be!
You are the one who needs the sun for strength. Oh, not even you can cure such a world, Übermensch!
Miss Lane… is a little girl you taught to ride a bicycle… only to release her when she learned everything she needed to know.
If you had not turned away,
you would have seen her fall.
She is no Überwoman.
She still needs you.
Reporting for The Daily Pliny, this is her.
—————-=======================—————-
But then… As Franz would say…
fiction, fiction. =P
Weird… I saw Superman Returns last night.
Wrote this right after - but it’s definitely not about the movie. Checked the bulletin posts and saw someone calling me “uber.” Deleted this same entry a few minutes ago from Multiply. (Once again, I wrote and discovered that I had gathered only a withered briar—an imperfect blossom!)
Then my alarm went off reminding me that it’s Nietzsche’s birthday.
Hmmm… uberly timely.
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10.12.07
Posted in Uncategorized at 4:48 am by Miracle ♪♫
When silence roars,
and dusk permeates my heart,
I grope for you deep within.
The hands of my reason
traverse galaxies of thoughts and intents…
…and joy!
I find you, coexisting with music
in the uttermost core of my essence,
shining with ethereal rays…
and melancholia can only tarry in my mind’s distant fringes.
Joy! They cannot move you.
I shall find you, ad infinitum.
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10.06.07
Posted in Uncategorized at 7:31 pm by Miracle ♪♫
Literal Love
My Natural Habitat
Through a Demitasse
Bliss
Blick ins Chaos
My Retreat
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10.05.07
Posted in Uncategorized at 10:07 am by Miracle ♪♫
Hush… I shall get back to you once I’m done…
Tolerate the spinster. She is Polybibliogamizing.
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10.02.07
Posted in Uncategorized at 10:09 pm by Miracle ♪♫
On reminding myself… that in any relationship, one must not be the grace note - the insecure ornament desperately clinging to a significant note, lest it be overlooked.
¤ ¤ ¤
…the reason why you never saw me running after you…
.
We began on a beautiful and perfect consonance. We are Contrapunctus. We each have our distinct voice and character, and yet, interdependent on Harmony. I would rather be a confident lyric of a counterpoint… distant for a time, contrasting, but perpetually complementing and synergic with your melody – your thoughts. I do not wish to evermore strive to keep up with you and abide in constant fiction, and in the process forget experiencing the joy of
you.
I am here. Punctum contra punctum. Not behind you, but with you… realizing the resolution… discerning closure… understanding you… hearing the beautiful song as a whole… mastering it by heart… knowing who you are and who I am at
the beginning and remain knowing the same at the end, is unison.
¤ ¤ ¤
“It is hard to write a beautiful song. It is harder to write several individually beautiful songs that, when sung simultaneously, sound as a more beautiful polyphonic whole. The internal structures that create each of the voices separately must contribute to the emergent structure of the polyphony, which in turn must reinforce and comment on the structures of the individual voices. The way that is accomplished in detail is…’counterpoint’.”John Rahn
“I liked counterpoint because of the way that things went together…I was escaping the boundaries of space and time.” Robert Morris
¤ ¤ ¤
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Posted in Uncategorized at 12:54 am by Miracle ♪♫
This was scribbled at Bo’s Café after a bookstore excursion in Cebu last week.
I currently visited nooks acquainted with our laughter. They suffer emptiness now. Your absence causes every object to be suddenly aware of the spaces amidst them. The shelves seem to lack a volume that perplexes the neurotic emotion. The other seat in the café is uninhabited. There appears to be a vacuous universe between my lips and the demitasse. Even my laughter longs for its extension. The distance between two quavers is unlawfully lengthened b a breath or two. Only the zoetic memory of you brings about a faint rustle between pages and a stir in my espresso…
…but I shall leave nooks and niches, things animate and
inanimate disturbed by this emptiness.
I am not empty.
You are in me. =)
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10.01.07
Posted in Life Betwixt Book Covers at 8:12 am by Miracle ♪♫
…books were the emblems of a secret brotherhood…
a weapon against the world of crudity surrounding her…
she loved to walk down the street with a book under her arm.
It had the same significance for her as an elegant dandy a century ago.
It differentiated her from others…
(Comparing the book to the elegant cane of the dandy is not absolutely precise.
A dandy’s cane did more than make him different; it made him modern and up to date.
The book made her different, but old-fashioned.)
The Unbearable Lightness of Being
- Milan Kundera -
Thanks to Marie Vic, I am currently immersed in Kundera. Shh… do not interrupt.
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