To the Heroes Who Dare to Love

12

The Glory of Living
 
 
 

To the victims of Orlando shooting—
The heroes who dared to love in a hateful world. . .
 
 

If love is a person,
its mantra would be:
“I am who I am.”

 
If it’s a coffee,
it may come with
a creamer or milk,
or plain dark and bold.
But with or without sugar,
it perks us up in the morning—-
and it keeps us going
all day long.

 
If it’s a song,
It doesn’t need a refrain.
And it works in all genre.

 
If it’s a clothing;
It’s convertible
to a suit
that brings out
the best in us;
to a comfy pajama
that assures us,
we are in our safe zones.

 
If it’s a footwear,
of course,
it comes in pair.
An interchangeable slipper,
we can wear down
without worrying
it’s goinh to turn us down–
as it fits all sizes.

 
 
To our hearts,
it’s the blood
streaming life
that makes them throb;

 
 
To our well-being,
it’s the oxygen
we breathe
to live
in peace
and in harmony
with our souls.
 
 
 
Hence, hence, hence:
How can they
say it’s wrong?
How can anyone
say it’s wrong?

Don’t they know
How they were born?

They aren’t sores,
popping out of heat. . .
that’s it!
And that was all.

 
 
 
Related: Broadway Stars Singing. . . for Orlando

The Epitome of a Wish 

7



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To the symphony of gentle winds
conducting in every crispy morning
of spring,
a bed of confused tulips and roses–
in colors of Roy G. Biv–
is waltzing with me
in sweet harmony.

 

To the ballad of swells
playing in every tepid noon
of summer,
a rush of ripples in calmest tides
are smooching my toes
and romancing my heels. . .
. . . can’t walk;
. , . too teased–
my timid steps
can’t deny.

 

To the whispering lullabies
in all of fall,
he puts me to sleep,
obviously smitten
watching me
snore in peace
by dawn,
when I wake up,
he says “Cheese.”

 

To the medley of carols
christmasing merry and bright,
he brings warmth
even if the fireplace
is not alight–
in all of winter’s coldest nights–
he’s keeping Krampus out of sight.

 

. . . the epitome of a wish;
a dream
too perfect
for the quite imperfect me
to realized.

 
 
 


 Of Greatest Remembrances

2











Born as Cassius Clay, Jr., on January 17, 1942, at Louisville, Kentucky, legendary boxer Muhammad Ali passed away, Friday, June 03, 2016, at the age seventy-four.

As a Filipino-American journalist, what I can personally say about him, is that through his legacy, the Philippines is home to at least three of world’s greatest boxers, namely Manny Pacquiao, Rolando Navarette, and Flash Elorde. Thus, we owe it to Ali.

For Philippines hosted what was labeled as Thrilla in Manila, it was hailed as The Greatest Bout of All-Times and apparently, Ali’s best according to CNN.

Held on October 1, 1975, at the Araneta Coliseum, in that bout Ali beat his longtime ring foe, Joe Frazier by 16 points (48-2 over 32-2). And because Filipinos witnessed and were moved by Ali’s heart, boxing became a part of our culture.

As a fan, I admire his unwavering sense of humor, his boldness and yet he was so compassionate. Above all, Ali was a golden, diamond-studded emblem of the human spirit.

Copyrights belongs to SportingNews.com

Ali at his best: Thrilla in Manila, October 1, 1975

He beat Parkinson’s disease for more than thirty-years. That amid the humiliations it caused him, from his physical looks, to speech, to his agility and cognitive functions, he remained propagandist of peace, justice, and sports. What was more inspiring? He never blamed boxing for what he suffered. Rather, he was always thankful for his fate.

On death, do you know that he planned his funeral and memorial? Oh, yes he did! He insisted that his fans be given ample time to view his remains at his hometown. His bereaved wife Lonnie narrated that it was always hard to pull him away from his fans. He hardly said “no” for autographs or picture takings.

I also admire his choice of name: For Muhammad means worthy of praise; While Ali means a cousin of the prophet. He was very spiritual.

As a naturalized citizen, I exalt Ali as a man of color, who knockouted prejudice. He was a champion of civil rights. He always stood tall for his beliefs of himself and faith.

Ali won the hearts of many around the world, even those of his arch enemies such as George Foreman, all because of his gigantic soul.

A fighter in and out of the ring; an icon of sports and a humble philanthropist–Truly, Ali is one of the greatest men that lived and changed the world.

Assalaamualaikum, Muhammad Ali!









Perhaps for As Long As I Live

9

Aloha friends, Romans, and countrymen! Seriously, thank you for your kindness and support! I hope everyone is well just as I am.

Although earlier, I wasn’t because of osing my academic standing by 0.03 points this semester (rom 3.75 now 3.72). I earned 2 A, 1 A- and a B. It happened, because of a full-time job and my yealy devotion of volunteering to prepare taxes.

It hurt me more than I can say it. Because I worked so hard–all my life–for my education.

It truly hurt me so much: For out of my sincere efforts to remain viable to the community, I earned a B. Worse, the professor who gave me the grade, for an 88.72, was the same one who had me volunteer for University of Hawaii’s, Leeward Community College’s VITA (Volunteer Income Tax Assistance). I usually do it with the Legal Aid Society of Hawaii (since 2008). But, because he assigned it as a project, I had to do so.

In consideration of devotion plus the project, I volunteered for more days than he required us. I was taking care of our clients on my own (as he asked me). My finished products were always evaluated on the spot. I never got audited. I even did the alternative project. So did I really earn B?

The irony is. because of human nature, there are many who look at indifference as a camouflage for something ill, which is wrong! For there are pure goodness in this world, we shouldn’t scrutinize. Prejudicial, unwarranted skepticism is a shame to our morals; it’s an insult to a civilized society, more so, to an educated community. For example, many of us here, we blog not because we want money or fame. Rather, our respective blogs inexplicably fill a more inner part of us. That just because we’re (mostly) blogging for free, we have vested interests of ill nature.

Giving more than what I have to doesn’t make me a sinner. Nobody deserves prejudice.

I choose to live a meaningful journey; I pick humility as my compass in life. I could have stayed in the Philippines and news write until I die; Then I wouldn’t have to feel discriminated like a second-class citizen. I could have enjoyed the support of my siblings. But here I am, crawling in the Land of Uncle Sam, not for an American dream–but in fulfillment of my responsibilities.

As their life-long teacher, I strive to inspire my kids of my determination to overcome fate, age and etcetera–by not letting any obstacles get in the way of achieving dreams. However, with two or more years of tackling my degree, and with a GPA going down–honestly, I feared of failing. Sure, I can question the grade and challenge my professor. But, I cried for HIS guidance. And so with all humility, I gave up my Dean’s List–as I put a big L on ny forehead.

However, today, a magical thing happened.

Accompanied by my iPhone, I went to Panda’s (a Chinese fast food restaurant) for lunch. I ordered a two-choice plate. It came with entrées of honey walnut shrimp and angus beef, a house-fried-rice, and a fortune cookie.

Listening to my playlist named Hope, and to the track of Climb Every Mountain, I bit my cookie to read my fortune for the day.

Suprisingly, Fortune Cookie bit me back by saying “Follow every rainbow;” while seemingly, the lyrics raised second the motion, by saying “. . . till you find your dreams.”