journey

Through small breaks in a dark 
glass we peep
By bit and piece we try to make 
whole what our eyes can glimpse 
and our minds seek to know

dark shades of blue 
mixed with red flames burn
and seep in and tend to shape and form
but it is not yet time 
just a peep here a taste there
sip by sip not gulp by gulp
we can't take it all at once

but in time we will see 
all and drink the whole cup 
and in the end 
we will grasp the truth
that 
we have sinned 
and we have 
to own them all

stuck

sometimes you ask why
sometimes you reminisce, remember things
sometimes you think of heaven or hell
other times you don't think at all but suffer and feel the pain
sometimes small things matter, other times nothing does
you surrender but also cling
but you know you can't do anything

Fb ;love story

Fb love story

Roused by romantic notions

of sweet loving emotions

He typed

words of feelings long

unexplored.

His zest and enthusiasm

of giving life to his phantasm

Gave birth to masterpieces

of short word-minuets

and waltzes.

No, he never was romantic,

he loves prose he’s not poetic.

She made him so,

when she left without

adieu.

Memories  left behind

were strongly etched in his mind.

He wanted them to be forever.

It was she he wanted,

 “this can’t be over”.

He painted words he thought

she’d understand.

“Would she ever read them,

would she even scan?”

But then he understood,

she‘s really gone

for good.

A man as wise as he

should move forward and let it be.

But he took pains going back

 to every cranny and every crack;

Cleaning every nook

of all the pages of his book,

Wanting to make the slate clean

of things might not

or might  have been.

No, it’s not yet the end

Cause  in spite of all the pain,

It will start all over

again

still alive, alive still.
so still, yet so alive.
alive but still.
still and alive, alive still.

still alive, alive still.
till death shall I still be alive and shall live still .
alive still until I shall really still.
Still until still

the shivering woman

Yesterday afternoon, while walking towards our office after attending Holy Mass, Che-che and I, saw a woman lying on the floor in front of the Blessed Calungsod Hall.

“ Ngano man ni ? ” Che-che sort of grasped.

The woman looked like she was in pain. She was shivering, lying sideways on the semi-wet floor for it was just a few minutes ago since the rain had stopped. It had rained for about an hour.

“Tugnaw man, higda ko.”...she said.

Without doing anything to help, we walked past her as I told her to transfer to a drier spot at the side of the building.

She looked just like all the other homeless ones who sometimes take shelter in that place - the wandering street children, the madmen and women, beggars and scavengers.

Moments past and the unknown woman was forgotten as we went through our own business...Che-che has to finish distributing copies of the Hamiling Parokyano Newsletter to the different chapel communities tomorrow and she has yet to buy milk for her children , and i have to go home to be with my family for dinner.

I couldn’t remember if she was still there when we got out of our office. She might have blended well with the vicinity.

Busy as we were with our own affairs, we didn’t find time to even think of her.

It was just this morning as I was praying and thanking God for another gift of life that the image of that shivering woman crossed my mind.

“ Oh my God ! why didn't we do something?"

Skipping breakfast, I went hurriedly back to the place where we found her. She wasn't there anymore.

I went home carrying a guilty conscience, and it's still with me even as I write this...

rolling stone

she's all wrap up

in her multi-tasking orgy

but deep from the bottom up

she can't stand all this hurly-burly

she thinks she's fine

she says dont ya mind

she's a modern day rolling stone

she's never stoned but she's got no bone

she can't call anybody her own

she's alone, i tell you,

she's all alone...

begone

we both concealed the light
and saw things differently
from what they really were

pull the curtains now
open the windows
let fresh air come through
let pure light come in

its about time to break away
from our game and my illusions

awaken my love and go..............

the flow

and that icy palm

of the saintly immortal

will never be hot again

just because the moon no longer

wants to be kissed by the sun

but his light still shines

on both sinners and saints

he does as he pleases

and knows what he is about

be gone my love

and drink your own secretions

hit the road you sunny

your not as hot as hell anymore

you're on your own now angel moon

may your dim light shine on that crazy cat

you can do it

i told you so

i don't want to remember

i dont want to know

this is the flow

you are still you

this is your world

own it

Minglanilla, Cebu: Historical Notes

( copy-pasted from POINT CEBU )

( Note: This version of the history of Minglanilla is culled from a website ( pls click above).. The reader may note some differences from another version which I posted here earlier ( see archives, September 9, 2009) where the first parish priest was named Fr. Fernando Sanchez not Fernando Lopez. This version also has the date of the Fiesta wrong. The parish celebrates its Fiesta on August 21 and 22, not August 22- 23. the 21st in honor f the parish's 2nd patron Sr. San Roque and on the 22nd in honor of the Immaculate Heart of Mary its patroness, not Sacred Heart of Mary as written below...
As I have learned from the parish's records, the First Parish priest was Fr. Fernando Sanchez, who came from Minglanilla, Spain...
As of this date, the town and the parish still has to come up with an authentic, well researched official version of its history...)

Location: 15.4 kms.
Area: 7,196 hectares
No. of Barangays: 19
Town Fiesta: August 22 - 23
Patron Saint: Sacred Heart of Mary
Places of Interest: Old parish church - classic, neo-Roman in design, Campo Siete forestral area, White caves

Historical Notes

Father Fernando Lopez, Minglanilla’s first parish priest, is credited as the founder of the town in 1858. Nicolas Lopez, Miguel de Burgo and Jose Alonso worked together in the construction of the church and the cemetery. It roads and bridges were built by the same Fr. Lopez together with Fr. Magaz.

There were a number of capitanes who headed the town during the Spanish era. The first capitan was Hilario Castañares. During the American regime when the town headsman was called president, the first to serve as such was Canuto Larrobis. The first to be elected municipal mayor was Gregorio de la Calzada.

Buat was the former name of Minglanilla. It was probably due to the fact that it was the place where early settlers dried (buad/buat) their sea catches. But in 1858, it was renamed Minglanilla by Fr. Lopez, after a place in Spain.

The town suffered setbacks, among them during the Philppine Revolution and World War II. In January 18, 1905, insurrectos burned down its municipal building and looted many houses. This unforgettable and lamentable event is commemorated by a street named 18 de Julio (18th of July). In 1942, its poblacion was razed to the ground by the Japanese in retaliation of the presence of the guerrillas in the town.

A popular legend explains the name of a barangay in Minglanilla. It is puzzling that Barrio Linao is so-called when there is no body of water in this locality. Linao in Cebuano means lake/bay. The legend goes:

It is told that Linao before was a bay, favorite place for Chinese traders to anchor their frigates. At first the natives were afraid of the slit-eyed, fair-complexioned foreigners that they fled inland.

To attract the inhabitants to trade with them, the Chinese left their merchandise on the shore and sailed away. Soon enough, the natives got the wares and exchanged them with precious stones. The barter went on with honest natives always repaying the goods with valuables.

On days, because there was no wind at all, the boats could not set sail. To raise wind, the boat’s captain decided to make his dog dance. This was an act of sacrilege on the part of the anitos or native gods, who sent strong winds, lightning, thunder and heavy rains which inundated the place. The frigates sunk and all the Chinese drowned.

The following day, the bay was no more. Instead, there was a wide plain where Linao stands today.

A big socio-religious event in Minglanilla which attracts not only people from adjacent towns but also from Cebu City and farther, is the Sugat. Sugat in Cebuano means meeting. On Black Saturday night, a public dance is held at the Church Plaza to witness the re-enactment of the “meeting” of the risen Christ and his mother. Their images, borne on richly-decorated carrozas, meet amidst joyous songs and the presence of child angels suspended by wires.

^{Reprinted from the book: Cebu In Legend and History
By: Lavilles de Paula}