Eduardo
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Everything posted by Eduardo
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Genesis for a Stalker, A stalker, she said she was. Speechless and startled in the confines of an elevator, in the absence of a witness, to display Psycho- pathologic behavior was new and very strange to hear. Seemingly joking or not, had to defuse this deep unconscious attachment. Its length was unknown. Time was not a luxury, and fear was never part of the equation. Compassion was the needed response, from an Initiate. At her statement, invoking the guidance of intuition, in response, she heard:
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"Et les chiens se taissaient." Aime Cesaire "The God of Small Things." Arundhati Roi.
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The gift, if you will, was in her answer. Actions speaking louder than words, were revealing. Although we may have heard the American colloquialism all is b. s. The adjunct answer was in an Initiate awareness of its base usages, reflecting an apparent ignorance of the systemic energy we live and swim in. . . Character in full view of light, tears were imminent. Within a sanctuary of reflections, wide eyes amazingly sparkled, she cared. . . One
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On the sands, was a sea shell on Puerto Princesa's beach. Above it was the winged shadows of a silver bird, a noon sun casting its brilliance upon us all. . . Ps. let me 'tapos na," elsewhere and post after. . .
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The complexities of emotions crashing on twin towers, swimming, in a midst, of oceanic confusion, an inextinguishable kindle flame you read, tunay. This
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" Thousands of times I ran away from you like an arrow is thrown from the bow, And a thousands times I was caught again a prey of your hunting eyes. " ~Rumi
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The Torch, For King. had the drawing designed on her,
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For Diane Q. Palms held together before a freedom writer
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Dogma tic thinking was in review. This was the twentieth century, and thus, sometimes parental guidance could well be misguided. He had been on the theater of life with a yellow T-shirt and shorts, a toothpick in the mouth, either from eating or to convey his disapproval, in a so-called show of authority, though unenlightened. That display, of authority, had been subject to countless volumes over the centuries. To a keen student of world history, it was not new. He had seen it all, to prescience the individual and collective selfishness of people and governments on the same planet earth we walked. It was amazing. During readings in Psychohistory, had the privilege and benefit of insights read and examined in details, of many disciplines, with far reaching results. Like Galileo, the student felt before a tribunal, having to justify science before an unenlightened authority, embracing myth. He was the patriarch, and still a resident victimized by a draconian mind. Oftentimes they wore their Sunday best, to church, when young to impress and now old, becoming customaries. Its original purpose or memory was long lost, reducible to a Pavlovian response. A daughter, demonstrating her ability to be above average was still not enough. She was the child, being a vicarious channel, to meet some draconian mind set expectations. Independent thinking had not been amiss in her science training, just her upbringing. She was bright. Science was her predilection and healing her passion.
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At Lestat
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On this journey, Kayumangging kaligatan appeared, in what was too brief, of a moment in time. Third eyes confirmed, in both, that holographic universe we lived in. Her brief pause was to leave witting and unrelenting charms. As she entered, a melody danced on constellations, while a Tunay was uncertain. Perhaps, she was just shy. Perhaps, courage had been out flanked, not realizing that few had the magic to draw ink, from a humble pen. Perhaps,
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In Beijing's Bird
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"Ancora," "kayumangging kaligatan." Far beyond galaxies, emerges the twinkling of a distant star. . . Wherein those eyes, "the very stuff of the universe" beckons, third eye.
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In Green, she sat in between worlds. Unwittingly, constellations were shared. . . One of UCSD smart ones, she was. While needing to hear of the Latin learned, and from within, understood instead, her focus was on that test. This was shared, though
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En la Rep
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Mathematics. Math, as they say, was her love. In an amazing ability to play with the numbers, in the infinite spectrum of life, she danced. A civilization with a calendar, more than five thousand years had been the source of her origins. Gregorian chants came from the linguistics she studied. Intuition, had given her roots, the beauty within. Compelled, an observant pen was to share, the infinitesimal numbers involved in the music of linguistics. Thus, her first love had not been lost. Just concealed in culture defined symbols, less universal than her first love. Recognize the former, and in the latter is the fragrance of a rose. Copyright, July 6, 2008 Eduardo A. Cong Poet and playwright, USA.
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Gold Coast, C
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In Yellow, was the uniform worn. In an hour, Manila bays
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Rudyard Kipling's Writing: His Empire and Mine
Eduardo commented on RonPrice's blog entry in RonPrice's Blog
thanks!!! -
Met mixture of revelations and surprises, personal and professional. Totally amazing! Soon as possible, will post some of these. . . "After we have mastered the waves, tides and gravity, we shall harness for god the energies of love. Then, for the second time in the history of mankind, we would have discovered fire." Dr. Pierre Teilhard deChardin, J.S.
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Speechless, Speechless was in her exclaimed vibrations
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The Gift, Pour Cindy V. L'etudiant, UST. The gift of all gifts, was very conscious of it all. Within the very stuff of her eyes was the universe and she did not know it. In a carefree world, she lived, and privileged among many, shared unwittingly. Demands of her time was never an issue, her willingness to share was in the essence of it all. Those Gregorian chants were reminders of the beauty within us all. Whether in Manila, Paris, London, Panama City, Palma de Mallorca, New York, San Francisco, that willingness to share, danced on Cassiopeia
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Signs, Of walking between worlds were in his actions. To an estranged world, those caught in the daily labyrinth of life, was misunderstood. . . Ang makata, at Uhuru's Peak touched the heavens from a continent, this mother's day. All memoirs were of a young lady then, delivering her valedictorian address, cum laude. In the poet's eyes, stood a brilliant magna cum laude teenager present, all dressed in a satin white silk dress. . . Never breathed a word of this achievement, all during ang makata's adolescence. She just lived and cared for us all. . . Copyright, May 11, 2008 Eduardo A. Cong Poet and playwright, San Diego, CA. USA
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