To The Supermodel (An Original Poem)

I go beyond your outrageous clothes.
Allow me to check instead
your bony knees,
funny moving patellas,
Thighs as slim as your chances
of acquiring
believability.

I go beyond your flagrant adornments.
Allow me to locate instead
your slender throat,
clavicles apparent,
smoothened integuments,
your broken-looking ligaments.
You look remote.

Yes, that hair of yours.
Blown by the winds of caprice.
That painted face,
veiled with stony expressions,
Those measured strides,
steppings on line invisible.

You are another animal.

Dirty, dirty campaign!

The present political campaign has turned terribly vicious. And the viciousness is disgustingly apparent in the actuations of candidates and their supporters. Casting stones and finger-pointing reveal how desperate people have become just to win the elections. The campaign has turned into a shameless display of power-lust.

Issues and platforms have virtually become non-exixtent. What's making headlines is the passionate exchange between the accusers and the accused, the chargers and the charged. And most of them have unclean hands.

If candidates and their supporters prefer dirty tactics to humane approaches, they're actually planting bad seeds. If they win, those seeds will eventually turn into bad fruits. If we start dirty we always end up dirty still. And the nation suffers in the filth.

If I Were a Political Candidate

If I were a candidate who would run for a position in government, I would also wisely consider the possibility of my defeat. Success is not predictably assured to those with money, image, clout and even experience. The present mental health of our nation is not at all excellent. Government seats may have random occupants after a not so trusted electoral process.

If I would lose in the elections, I would continue to serve the people. Not getting the seat I most wanted to have should not deter me from being a public servant. Defeated politicians have no real excuse to turn their back on society if they sincerely had no selfish interests in running for office. In their own unique capacities they can still serve the poor, the disenfranchised and the less fortunate among us.

Losing the election is not a reason to end one's altruism.

NO TO KIDS BOXING

Punch me and call me Wimp. I just don't approve of Kids Boxing. Though the sport has the required protective gear for the young boxers, I remain unconvinced that it is a healthy sport to encourage. Boxing is punching, jabbing and hitting. It's a contact sport that teaches kids to attack, yes, with kid gloves. But what goes on in the mind and spirit of the child as he is trained to do well in the sport?

Picture your grade schooler hitting and being hit by another young pugilist. There will be blood. I don't believe there is pure pleasure to be derived from watching your precious child getting hurt. It's all about aggression. And defense is never primary in boxing.

Leave the sport to the big boys. The kids should be spared from the possibility of getting a brain damage or dying early.

PAPER (An Original Poem)

PAPER

You were a tree,
a tree.

A tree was felled
for me,
for me.

A tree died
for you, paper,
for me, poet,
for this poetry.

I Cannot Hate Marcos and His Family.

I was only a grade schooler in the '70s when Ferdinand Marcos was still the country's president. His political sway was much felt by my parents from the 60s to the 80s. But I did not know about it nor feel it then. It was only when I was in UP High School that I knew something about the "dictator" and what they called was his "tyrrany".

Ferdinand Marcos to me is history. Not having experienced or even suffered from his "dictatorship" as a child is enough reason for me to be incapable of truly hating him. If I cannot hate him, I cannot hate his living wife and their children. Their "corruptions" and "evils" were and are still beyond me. Undoubtedly they are told about in many books.

I am not a hypocrite to raise a fist and say down with the Marcoses. I have not lived to greatly suffer from the Marcos despotism. In fact I like Imee and Bongbong. Though children of a "dictator", they cannot be automatically regarded as "undesirable fruits". I cannot hate the Marcoses. I can only hate the present "evildoers".

"Third World Pa Rin."

Almost everything we want to know about everything can be accessed now via the Intenet. Students certainly have no excuse nowadays to claim they cannot know enough about their courses and subjects. But still I have yet to meet anyone with astonishing brilliance.

Entertainers we have awfully a lot here. And the obvious dearth of excellent scientists, experts, field specialists, creative writers and thinkers is the result of something corrupt in our educational system or perhaps, our present culture as a whole.

We heavily prefer singing, dancing, entertaining and playing money games to studying, learning, writing, appreciating and mastering the arts, humanities, history, literature, science and other disciplines. We somehow look quick towards where the moolah is. This is shamelessly shallow. (A tongue twister there.) And look where we have remained. In the dumps. Overtaken by other Asian nations. Third world pa rin.

DEATH (Original Poem)

*Death*

your weapon is hidden
from us
and
it is for us

not a sting,
not a bullet,
not a scythe,
but
it is something
just for us

your mouth is shut
you never will tell

you just give it to us
and we take it
eventually

until we give up
the ghost

you do your job
pretty well

a round of applause

To tell or not to tell

There are people who don't have the need to know certain things about us. We have private stuff in our lives' classified drawers. If people ask us personal questions, we are not obliged to give full answers. Certain disclosures are for a few who can respectfully handle things about who we are and who we once were, what we do and what we did in the past.

We must know when to be quiet. We know which things deserve to be hushed. What spills out of our mouths may eventually be used as daggers for the stabbing of our backs. So-called friends, acquaintances or just plain curious strangers may just turn evil and malicious. It takes wise discernment to know who deserves an honest answer or a 'No comment.' Zipped lips can be at times the best lips.

The Unqualified Candidate

The fears of an unqualified candidate are many. He fears he would be eventually proved unqualified when he is already in office. He fears his incompetence would lead to his downfall. He fears his corrupt motives will be exposed. He fears what people say of his past, his skeletons in the closet. He fears his personal demons will un-seat him.

I am for early exposure of the true person running for a government seat. When something is exposed, there should be reliable and concrete evidence. If a charge verges on the malicious and scandalous, I will not totally dismiss it. It may just be true.

I still think that there are unqualified candidates out there who have no fears at all. They know that they can get away with many things. They believe they will be elected. And they do get elected. The politics of politics makes our politics here dirty and rotten. The Philippines continues to suffer and crawl.

Running for Office (Original Poem)

They are running for office.
Their mouths are dripping
with promises,
rhetoric and honey.

We are applauding.
They are moving us
with their moving tongues
and moving hands
in conventions
and rallies.

They are running for office.
Their lips are moving.
And we are listening.
We are cheering,
clapping and voting.

Then they are in office.
We keep waiting
for the fulfillment.

Then we sing the same sad songs
while we are crawling.

On Beauty Pageants

Many people will hate me for this. Well, I’ll take the risk. Beauty queens nowadays have descended to the level of trivia. Year after year people look forward to who’s going to win the beauty title? To the crown noble assignments are attached so as not to regard the beauty search “shallow” or “irrelevant.”

The surface beauty (face, shape, proportion, gait, etc.) are highlights. The obligatory interview is a pretentious gauge of a woman’s substance. The “pageantish” manner of speech is almost always studied and forced. In pageants the candidate’s need to impress and to show off somehow reveals the pride of peacocks.

True beauty is quiet and humble. It does not seek approval nor judges’ scores. The truly beautiful women do noble tasks for other people even without a scepter or crown. I believe even in the absence of beauty contests the world will still be a beautiful place to live in.

WORDS (original poem)

When words are spoken,
they fly,
float,
fall,
are suspended
and caught,
complete
or misshapen.

Words can explode
into countless versions.

Then, there's calm
or tension.
Peace
or mayhem.

Or at once
all of them.

Sex Offenders in Church

There are pedophile priests in the Roman Catholic Church. This is a scandalous charge which the church has to face and deal with without cover-ups. And I believe there are also pedophiles and sex abusers in other religious groups and churches.

Secret sex offenders in the church should be rebuked and chastised for their immoralities. But who can dare come out and admit? Who can confess to the crimes and sins? No one can. So, the church is only left with offenders still in hiding.

For those who truly fear the wrath of God, they can still run to the Lord for mercy and forgiveness. They can still repent. Jesus forgives and saves. If in the future these priests or religious leaders are exposed for their wicked ways, they have to face the music.

The church of God is called to be pure and righteous. The sinning has to stop! The sodomy has to stop! The sexual offenses and abuse have to stop! The hypocrisy and wickedness have to stop! Now! In the powerful Name of Jesus!

THE NIGHT ON GOOD FRIDAY (An Original Poem)

*The Night on Good Friday*

Few stars I see
this Good Friday night.
So few they are.
The moon is nowhere
to be seen.
But a spill of silver light
I discern from afar.

Maybe there is drama
in the heavens now.
Angels and God,
reenacting a tragic scene.

Die
die must the Superstar.


WILLIAM SIENES III

REPENTANCE

Repentance is one true sacrifice we can offer God. Repentance is superior to tears. It is not mere lamentation. It is not a public display of self-flagellation nor crucifixion. Repentance is private. Repentance is quiet. It is the 180-degree turning away from sin. And the turning to God for good.

The repentant heart is cleansed by the shed blood of Jesus, the perfect sacrifice for the remission of sins of those who truly believe in Him as Savior and Lord. To repent is to glorify God. And to glorify God is to end the glorification of the Self.

Repentance brings about a delight to please God and a disgust toward sin and sinning. Repentance is an evidence of a person's new life. Anyone who repents is free, joyful, and at peace with himself and God. He is saved.