I woke up from my fantasy,
My fantasy is composed of you and me,
It seems it makes me crazy,
Remembering the day that we’re happy.
I woke up from my fantasy,
Reminiscing the day that you came,
Those happy days that is my treasured memories,
Wishing that you’re here by my side.
I woke up from my fantasy,
I realize you’re not for me,
I don’t have other choice but to let you go,
But as always, I’m here waiting for you.
I woke up from my fantasy,
My fantasy is composed of you and me,
I think it’s time to forget you,
Throw all the memories I made with you.
This is the last time of fantasy,
All of these will be just a reverie,
So when I get off my bed,
My long fantasy will end.
Tuesday, March 23, 2010
Puno By: Venessa dela Cruz
May isang matayog na puno,
Na noon ay nakatirik,
Malawak ang sakop,
Mataas ang abot,
Ito’y nagbibigay ng lilim,
Lilim na nakapagpapandong sa mga tao,
Ito’y nakapagbibigay ng bunga,
Bunga na pinapakinabangan ng lahat.
Madalas ‘di pinapansin,
Ang puno na nakatindig sa atin,
Parang walang buhay kung tutuusin,
Ngunit sa nakauunawa,
Ito’y nagbibigay buhay sa atin.
Ngayon maaaring manganib,
Puno na iniingatan ng matagal na panahon,
May magagawa ba tayo?
Kung tayo’y magsasawalang kibo,
Sa ating kapaligiran na winawask na ng palalo.
Na noon ay nakatirik,
Malawak ang sakop,
Mataas ang abot,
Ito’y nagbibigay ng lilim,
Lilim na nakapagpapandong sa mga tao,
Ito’y nakapagbibigay ng bunga,
Bunga na pinapakinabangan ng lahat.
Madalas ‘di pinapansin,
Ang puno na nakatindig sa atin,
Parang walang buhay kung tutuusin,
Ngunit sa nakauunawa,
Ito’y nagbibigay buhay sa atin.
Ngayon maaaring manganib,
Puno na iniingatan ng matagal na panahon,
May magagawa ba tayo?
Kung tayo’y magsasawalang kibo,
Sa ating kapaligiran na winawask na ng palalo.
A Tribute to Our Cory By: Mark Denisse A. De Jesus
At first she was plain house wife,
Then an icon of DEMOCRACY,
After the death of her beloved husband,
She fought to give back our SOVEREIGNTY.
She passed through many challenges of life,
But her courage gave her sight,
That people of Philippines is in her side.
Love of the people made her complete,
From the time she sat at the office of presidency,
Up to the time she left the power itself,
And face again her family and life of simplicity.
But the time has come to face the truth,
That life, itself, is not absolute,
Our God finally got the life of our beloved Cory.
People are crying,
Her family is grieving,
Because they lost a MOTHER of all,
A WARRIOR of light, and
An ADVOCATE of peace.
Tita Cory you are the only one who made us a proud,
A defender of our sovereignty, and
Faithful citizens of our beloved country.
Then an icon of DEMOCRACY,
After the death of her beloved husband,
She fought to give back our SOVEREIGNTY.
She passed through many challenges of life,
But her courage gave her sight,
That people of Philippines is in her side.
Love of the people made her complete,
From the time she sat at the office of presidency,
Up to the time she left the power itself,
And face again her family and life of simplicity.
But the time has come to face the truth,
That life, itself, is not absolute,
Our God finally got the life of our beloved Cory.
People are crying,
Her family is grieving,
Because they lost a MOTHER of all,
A WARRIOR of light, and
An ADVOCATE of peace.
Tita Cory you are the only one who made us a proud,
A defender of our sovereignty, and
Faithful citizens of our beloved country.
Who’s Who?
Miriam Santiago. Does it ring a bell? Would you visualize a lass with an eyeglasses whom you can find wandering at Education lobby or would you think for a lawyer and politician who is extremely exceptional. My parents named me after her because of her popularity and cleverness. She is one of the most powerful women in the Philippines.
I am so delighted to the fact that I am easily remembered not because of who I really am but because of the person who made my name awfully popular. That every time I passed by my classmates, schoolmates or any one who knew me would blurt out, “Uy! Senadora, wala ba kayong conference?” and I am pleased every time they’d joke me if I am ready to jump off from a helicopter.
I had a professor who always says every time he checked our attendance, “Miriam Santiago na best friend ni Lacson, are you in?” Duh. Does he even know me? I had been connected with lots of politicians. Erap, Lacson, and Arroyo just topped the rest of the list of my buddies, but if they were really my friends, why they didn’t even invite me to their Friendster or Facebook account? Gee. But the best thing that I love about my name is when my professor would expect me to be as articulate and brilliant as her. That if I were called to recite, I should speak fluently and fire hot answers like what Sen. Santiago would say. So what is not to like about my name? I really really love it!
If I would be given a chance to talk to my parents when I was in my mother’s womb, I’ll tell her just name me plain “Mir” or “Iam”. But if they truly wanted “Miriam” for their stunning baby’s name, I wish they named me “Precious Francine Miriam Mitzie R. Santiago”, so there I would not be associated with Sen. Santiago. It would be a cool name!
I am so delighted to the fact that I am easily remembered not because of who I really am but because of the person who made my name awfully popular. That every time I passed by my classmates, schoolmates or any one who knew me would blurt out, “Uy! Senadora, wala ba kayong conference?” and I am pleased every time they’d joke me if I am ready to jump off from a helicopter.
I had a professor who always says every time he checked our attendance, “Miriam Santiago na best friend ni Lacson, are you in?” Duh. Does he even know me? I had been connected with lots of politicians. Erap, Lacson, and Arroyo just topped the rest of the list of my buddies, but if they were really my friends, why they didn’t even invite me to their Friendster or Facebook account? Gee. But the best thing that I love about my name is when my professor would expect me to be as articulate and brilliant as her. That if I were called to recite, I should speak fluently and fire hot answers like what Sen. Santiago would say. So what is not to like about my name? I really really love it!
If I would be given a chance to talk to my parents when I was in my mother’s womb, I’ll tell her just name me plain “Mir” or “Iam”. But if they truly wanted “Miriam” for their stunning baby’s name, I wish they named me “Precious Francine Miriam Mitzie R. Santiago”, so there I would not be associated with Sen. Santiago. It would be a cool name!
Identification Card by Dyey-ti
It was a rainy afternoon; I was in the mood, comfortably and serenely reading a book in the library. Just like any other students, I realized that there are more important things to do than just flipping pages of books, I decided to do down to Multi Media to earn coins, xp’s, and chips; and save Mother Earth by planting seeds and trees.
There was a long queue of students who were signing and giving their I.D.’s, it was a routine when you enter that room. After four hours of playing FarmVille, CaféWorld, Mafia, and answering surveys, I decided to leave. I went down then I noticed that my I.D. was missing, so I went back.
I can’t find my I.D.! I questioned all the student assistants but they said they don’t know where on Earth it was. I went wild! Hello? It is important, right? That’s why our efficient guards won’t allow us to enter the University if we don’t have it. Never.
I remembered my friends who have also been victims of losing their precious I.D., which made me even madder! The S.A.’s are looking at me as if I am a four-eyed monster with two heads. I felt as if I’m an advocate of the Lost I.D. Liberation Front, who fought fearlessly for our rights against the injustice of those in the position who do nothing to find it. Well what do I expect? I suppose they’ll organize a search squad to be in-charge for the school-wide investigation of my lost I.D. or they’ll hold everyone to rummage their belongings to find it. But they just answered me, “Maybe others got it, maybe they’ll bring it back.” MAYBE? MAYBE? That’s all they can say?
My blood was steaming, my body was shaking, and I was about to explode! I started complaining how irresponsible they are, that they are not the one who paid P90 (that was before) for my I.D., that they should do something about it. That we gave it not just to lose it. I even asked where their boss was; unfortunately (or luckily) he’s out. After seemed like an hour of grumbling, I left and went home. I can’t keep still, then just like a storm calming down, a thought flashed in my head. I felt cold, terribly cold. My mouth ran dry. My I.D. was in the library. Oh my!
There was a long queue of students who were signing and giving their I.D.’s, it was a routine when you enter that room. After four hours of playing FarmVille, CaféWorld, Mafia, and answering surveys, I decided to leave. I went down then I noticed that my I.D. was missing, so I went back.
I can’t find my I.D.! I questioned all the student assistants but they said they don’t know where on Earth it was. I went wild! Hello? It is important, right? That’s why our efficient guards won’t allow us to enter the University if we don’t have it. Never.
I remembered my friends who have also been victims of losing their precious I.D., which made me even madder! The S.A.’s are looking at me as if I am a four-eyed monster with two heads. I felt as if I’m an advocate of the Lost I.D. Liberation Front, who fought fearlessly for our rights against the injustice of those in the position who do nothing to find it. Well what do I expect? I suppose they’ll organize a search squad to be in-charge for the school-wide investigation of my lost I.D. or they’ll hold everyone to rummage their belongings to find it. But they just answered me, “Maybe others got it, maybe they’ll bring it back.” MAYBE? MAYBE? That’s all they can say?
My blood was steaming, my body was shaking, and I was about to explode! I started complaining how irresponsible they are, that they are not the one who paid P90 (that was before) for my I.D., that they should do something about it. That we gave it not just to lose it. I even asked where their boss was; unfortunately (or luckily) he’s out. After seemed like an hour of grumbling, I left and went home. I can’t keep still, then just like a storm calming down, a thought flashed in my head. I felt cold, terribly cold. My mouth ran dry. My I.D. was in the library. Oh my!
Sacrifice for Love By: Larvin Ian S. Ciriaco
Are you ready to sacrifice all the things that you possess in the name of love? Have you experienced risking someone or something that you love most because sacrificing is the wisest thing to do? That the things that you have now are needed to be left behind. Just like the Man on the Cross, who died and suffered because of His love for us, love that is everlasting – Jesus Christ. The Man who took all the risks, pains and who sacrificed Himself to give us a new life, a better way of living here on Earth. That is the real meaning of love. Loving someone also means facing sacrifices. How about you, are you willing to do like what Jesus Christ did?
Farewell Glance By: Connie Belle Castro Rimada
I look at him,
Yes I did look at his deep set eyes,
Those glances I once wished to be mine,
Just a fleeting moment, I look at him,
Just a moment where I could be with him, alone.
But I can’t be!
It will not be… the way I just want it.
Yes I look at him!
I took a glance on his face, on his eyes,
Eyes now filled with emptiness and longing.
I look at him with shivering heart,
I wanted to touch him, feel him,
Close to me, in my arms,
Alone!
But I can’t! I just can’t!
I look at him, as he walked away,
I look at him as he turned his back from me.
I look at him, I watched him stepping out,
Out of my life!
I just look at him.
Yes I did look at his deep set eyes,
Those glances I once wished to be mine,
Just a fleeting moment, I look at him,
Just a moment where I could be with him, alone.
But I can’t be!
It will not be… the way I just want it.
Yes I look at him!
I took a glance on his face, on his eyes,
Eyes now filled with emptiness and longing.
I look at him with shivering heart,
I wanted to touch him, feel him,
Close to me, in my arms,
Alone!
But I can’t! I just can’t!
I look at him, as he walked away,
I look at him as he turned his back from me.
I look at him, I watched him stepping out,
Out of my life!
I just look at him.
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