The Prisoner

Short Story

June 02, 2012

The Prisoner

This is a story that he will tell his children and grand-children.

For Andy, he never knew that he will come face to face with people in high positions when he joined the revolution and have a chance to have a heart to heart talk with them during the perilous times during martial law.

It was its 13^th year in the movement when he was captured by the enemy. He joined the People’s Army even before martial law was declared and saw how it was built from the scratch.

He was a student activist then when he joined the rebel movement (the enemy called them that). He went straight to Isabela and his first assignment was to be a political officer. A job he enjoyed doing for as long as he 

remembered.

He was captured because of one small mistake. It was those small mistakes that have the greater repercussions in the movement. And that mistake is that he trusted his wife.

His wife has ideological problems for which he blames himself. He did not love her but because they both committed a breach of discipline, he married her for the sake of the movement. This despite the protestations of his friends and comrades.

“Why marry when there is no love. Just accept the disciplinary action and it will go away. Marry her just for the sake of the movement, I will tell you, you will regret it.” His best friend and comrade in the movement told him.

It turned out that his wife betrayed her for a handsome and large amount of money to the military. And that is why he cannot forgive her. He was set-up.

 “Don’t ever talk to me or visit me again.” He told her. “I don’t want to talk to you ever again.” He told her.

One afternoon, while still in jail at Camp Crame, an army officer, a mestizo from the south and a close aide of the defense minister called on him. “Dress up some people wanted to talk to you.”

They travelled out of Manila and they met in a hill, overlooking the grand lake outside of Manila. He savored the sights and the moment of freedom under guard.

To his surprise, he was introduced to the Defense Minister and a political officer of the US Embassy. The minister was trim and proper. But his thick Ibanag accent was very prominent. The both speak and converse in Ilocano even in front of the embassy official.

They questioned him about the movement. How he got involved and his understanding of revolutionary principles. It was quite an interrogation. The difference is he is not obliged to answer anything. There was no pressure unlike the other interrogation that he was subjected to torture. And the people he talked to were polite, courteous and respectful.

They talked about the works of Jose Ma.Sison mostly the “Specific Characteristics of the People’s War in the Philippines.”

The minister remarked; “You will lose in the long run because even if you say that the advantage of people’s war is the characteristics of the Philippines as an archipelago, there will come a time that will be to your disadvantage. Especially if you are near the end game” He looked at the lawyer. Former customs commissioner and justice secretary with a keen eye. He was emotionless. Very poker faced.

“He really studied the matter. He knows his subject.” He said to himself.

After the long discussions, after her rejected all the overtures for him to join the other side, it was time to go back to his cell. But to his surprise, he was taken to have a sumptuous dinner at Barrio Fiesta in EDSA.

Now it’s the time for the colonel to talk to him.

“Can you guarantee my safety If I let you go back to your comrades and I go with you? “The colonel asked him.

“Why” he asked.

" You can stay with them but as long as you let me go and I talked with them, it’s your call. Besides they don’t know me. Just introduced me as a low ranking officer.” His captor stressed while they were eating alone.

“What is your guarantee that I will let you out alive.” He joked.

“That will mean the death of all the people you know and love.” The officer answered sternly.” My close friends officer will see to it that I don’t come back alive, then every will suffer the consequences of your betrayal”

“Wow”, he smiled and proceed eating and attacking the food he missed eating while in detention. He was in jail for more than two years.

“And how sure are you that they will let you go. I am just a simple warrior of the people.” He asked.

“Aw, don’t give me that crap. We know and you know, and I know that you are a member of the Politburo and the Central Committee. You are the Regional head and the place where we will go is the place where you best friend is the head of the area. We know he cannot say no to you. You are best of friend.” 

The officer smiled. That was the first time he saw the colonel smiled naturally.

“Besides, we know that he just married. Maybe you do not know who he married but that is not interesting.”

“What will you talk about?”  He tried to fathom what the real intent of the officer is. He was deep in it, might as well try to find options for escape.

“You know we have formed an officer’s movement against Marcos. We have been training against his men especially “Kulot” (that’s how they refer to General Fabian Ver who is bald). We are exploring areas of cooperation. They might be interested.I know and we know your friend follow the news."

"We know that he ordered a brand new transistor radio, A Sony brand. He really follows the news." the colonel is now drinking his beer.

“Well you know my friend. He is hard to talk with.”

“That is why we will try to bring you along. You can bring some sense to his thick mind. And we know he cannot refuse you.” The colonel smiled again.

He remembered his friend. He is a hard-liner. Even in prison he heard about his exploits. His friend and comrade was so ruthless against their enemies. How he ordered the burning of town halls and logging companies in the provinces. Well, maybe his marriage will mellow him up. 

Now it’s his time to smile after savoring the rich thickness of the grounded mane( peanuts) in his kare-kare. The officer looked at him inquisitively.

“ I will be waiting for your call” he said to the officer. “I agree he said.”

The officer’s call did not come until he was freed due to the ESDA People’s uprising. He still chuckled at that moment when he said yes to the officer’s offer.

Until today he still wonder what will my friend say. He knows, and the officers know that his friend was a wild card. Maybe the officer had a change of heart.  They can expect the unexpected from him.

They don’t know what tomorrow may bring.

***********

 

 

“American Idol” ng mga Puti

Sanaysay
Mayo 25, 2012

“American Idol” ng mga Puti

Ni Arturo P. Garcia

Magsasabi ako ng totoo. Itinuturing ko ang American Idol bilang isang bersyon ng “Hunger Games.”

Hindi ako nanonood ng American Idol, una dahil ito ay isang palabas ng rasistang istasyon ng media na Fox- na tinig din ng mga Republikanong anti-migrante at laban sa mga mamamayang may kulay at hindi puti.

Nagpapasalamat nga ako at nasa eroplano ako at di napanood ang resulta. Nalaman ko lang ito pagdating ko sa LAX at lumabas ang lahat ng mura sa lahat ng wikang alam ko sa galit.

Siyang tunay na hindi pa handa ang Amerika sa isang Asyano, babae at isang Pilipina.

Malalim talaga ang ugat ng rasismo at nagtagumpay nagwagayway ang bandilang Confederate ng Georgia. Sino ang magsasabing tapos na ang gyera sibil sa Amerika matapos ang 150 taon ng di umano’y tagumpay ng Unyon?

Kayat inaasahan ko nang hindi mananalo si Jessica, kahit na puno ng pag-asa ang mga kapwa Pilipino. Hindi ko sila sinasala sa kanilang pag-asa. Dahil alam ko namang matututo din ang mga Pilipino sa kanilang madugong karanasan sa rasismo ng Amerika.

Sa halip napuyat pa nga ako sa pagboto kasama sa isang “voting session”sa Virginia kasama ang mga Pilipino sa Maryland at Virginia. Kasama akong pumalakpak sa magandang pagpapakita at pagkanta ni Jessica. Napatunayan ko ang kasabihang lagging sinasabi ng aking ama: “The singer not the song.”

Maraming nagsasabi na na sour grapes daw ang reaksyon natin. Natural lang yon lalo na at alam at napatunayan mong rasista pa rin ang Amerika. Dapat nga hindi American Idol ang show na ito. Dapat palitan na nila itong “White American Idol.”

Pero hindi si Jessica ang nawalan kundi ang Fox at American idol ng ipakait nila ang karangalang ito. Ito ay dahil siya ay Pilipina at Asyano.Nabubuwist lang ako sa sweet lemon reaction ng marami lalo ng mga nasa gobyerno ng Pilipinas at mga artistang maka-Amerikano. Panalo parin daw si Jessica, kahit natalo.

Ang talo ay talo. Kahit ano sabihin mo talo pa rin. “Bagoong and Talong. Kamatis at bagoong” sabi nga ng mga bata! Panumbat sa mga talunan.

Kitang kita nakayuko si Philips dahil alam niya sa puso niya na bagamat siya ang American Idol, si Jessica ang idolo ng masa at madla.

Diyan naman ako bilib sa mga tunay na Amerikano, sila ay tunay at tapat( honest) at hindi pretentious. Di tulad nating Pilipino na nagmana sa mga among Kastila, inaapi na nakangiti pa rin at nagpapasalamat pa sa singhal, bugbog at alipusta ng among asendero.

Sabi nga ng isang Pilipinang tagahanga ni Jessica; “Suportado naming si Jessica, dahil pagtumindig siya at umawit, dala niya ang bansang Pilipinas. Hindi siya nagiisa. Tangan niya ang bandila ng Pilipinas.”

Sa mga mapaklang lemonadang lalo na ang mga sipsip pa rin sa Amerika, dina kayo nadala. Sinabi na nga ng Amerika na hindi siya makikialam sa laban ng Tsina at Pilipinas, asa pa kayong susuporta ang mga puti sa atin. Mga hanggal! Mga isip-tuta talaga!

Tapos pupurihin pa ninyo si Jessica, bilang tunay na American Idol, talo na nga, pwe!

Nagpapasalamat pa rin ako sa palabang diwa at makabayang damdamin ng lahat ng Pilipino sa Amerika maging sa ating inang bayang Pilipinas. Saludo ako sa inyong lahat.

Hindi man tayo tanggap ng rasistang Amerika, patuloy tayong makikibaka para makamtan ang tunay na pagkakapantay-pantay.

Tulad ng iba pang mamamayang may kulay ( people of color), alam natin mahaba pa ang ating lalakbayin.

Ang pagkatalo ni Jessica ay isang patunay na marami pang hadlang sa ating layunin.

Ngunit inspirado pa rin tayo ng batong pananda ni Martin Luther King Jr:

“Injustice anywhere is a threat to justice everywhere.”

Mangahas Makibaka, Kamtin ang Tagumpay!

White American Idol

May 24, 2012

White American Idol

The confederate flag flies proudly when Philip Philips won the American Idol.

On the other hand, the star and stripes of the Union that stood for equality lay in the dust.

The flag that many people of color learned to love, a symbol of equality was struck down when the racist Fox did not accept an Asian American as a winner and did all it can to make another “White Guy With Guitar” win as the American Idol at the expense of talented  Asian female Jessica Sanchez.

It was an affront to all women of color. A slap in the face of all people who had talent and all Asian Americans most especially to the Filipinos in America.

We cannot help to explain the political implications of this “Idol” win. First, it is contentious and dashed the hope of so many people. It is just the feeling of “hoping against hope” that the Filipino American community banded together to make Jessica Sanchez and just to see their hopes dashed.

Second, the symptoms and signs were there. While Jessica was given  the  short straw, Philips were given a standing ovation by the Idol judges. She was given a song, yet  she interpreted it to the best of ability. Philips stuck to the American country songs, as if setting himself up for the kill.

And last, Other analyst explained that the usual Midwest votes made Philips win. The Filipino-American community and other people of color votes does not matter, we have to accept the fact, that we are still a minority in this country and we cannot win. This is  a fact of life we must painfully accept.

Jessica’s fate is the same as the fate of our community. Just like the equity bill that we are pushing for more than 20 years in the US Congress. All we get are accolades but no benefits or recognition for our World War II veterans and their survivors.

Even Japanese   American senator says “Filipinos are only good for the lump sum”.

Well, the American Idol says, Jessica is only good as a runner up. That is their verdict and we heard it loud and clear.

We now tell the, they must change the show into :White American idol” and not let any people of color join the contest. For them,  only white people are good singers anyways.

And don’t get me wrong. Don’t say we are just sour graping. First, there are no grapes in the Philippines and we love sour  food. We use vinegar as sour seasoning for adobo and other foods we served. We are use to sour things.

But what we cannot accept is  injustice and  uneven  play or a set-up like what American Idol did.

That’s what America did when they left the Philippines under three years of Japanese rule during the  Second World War. From 1942-1945.

50 years earlier they came to the Philippines they said they came to save the Philippines just to occupy it fought a war of pacification called the “Philippine Insurrection” from 1899-1916 and made it their first colony together with Cuba and Puerto Rico and all Spanish possessions like Guam and the Marianas.

That is what America is saying, that they will come to the aid of the Philippines  as stated in the Mutual Defense Treaty (MDT) against China if ever a shooting war erupts. But I doubt if they will keep their promise.

The (White) American Idol showed us the folly of believing  that America is “the land of equality” . We learned if the hard way after the result of the AI.

But Filipinos are made of hard stuff. A different kind of stuff. We will continue to struggle on and win. To hope against hope.

 If last night of 2012, America is not ready for an Asian American Idol, maybe there will come a time, when that idea has it time, it will come!

***********

Sa Liwanag ng Buwan

Tula

Mayo 6, 2012



Sa Liwanag ng Buwan




Nais kong abutin
ang bilog na bilog,
bagong buwan
Dahil ang larawan mo
ang aking
Nakikita.

Nais kong igapos ,
Hulihin ang iyong mga mata
Higupin ang bolang Kristal nito
Tulad ng malinamnam
na booba.

Nais kong pihitin
ang susi ng nakaraan
Upang ipinid ang lahat ng tabing,
Ikubli at itago ka
sa dilim ang buwan

Nais kong sipsipin,
matamis na nektar
Awayin ang bubuyog
ng iyong halakhak,
mataginting,
awit sa pandinig.

Nais kong sisirin
ang perlas sa kailaliman,
Hindi na umahon
at magising,
Malango
sa alak ng kaligayahan

At muling matutong
umawit,
humabi ng rima
sa gitna ng dilim
sa iyong nagkalat na liwanag.

ApG
6/6/12

"

Writing

Short Story
May 8, 2012


Writing


He wanted to be poet. He never wanted to be a writer.


But later he learned he had to write poems to be a poet and he needed to write. But he was never comfortable writing in another language rather than his native tongue-Tagalog.

So, when they offered elective subjects in high school, he chose Pilipino as an elective in journalism. He wrote poems and he put his heart on it.

Unluckily he had a journalism teacher who plays favorites. She never printed a single poem he wrote or article he has written. But everything that the two other classmate of his wrote, she published in the Pilipino high school newspaper.

But he was not discouraged. He played along even to the point of being mediocre and insulted.

But the last of his tether went off in his third year. He was running for valedictorian, the only chance that he can go to college for free. He cannot afford low grades even his electives. Those were counted and averaged.

So he made a hard choice. Even to the point that it hurt him, he dropped his Pilipino electives. He had to stop writing poems.

But true to the saying, a windows open when the door is closed on you,” One of his friends who was the incoming editor of the English school paper offered him a slot.

“ You are good in sport, you loved sports, why not write and be the sports reporter for our paper.” An offer he readily accepted.

He was a sports writer for a year and to his surprise, he was asked by their adviser to be the sports editor of their high school paper for the next year. And he liked it because it was an excuse for him to go and watch the games and be excused from his classes.

Later, when there was a need for articles, his friend who was the literary editor asked him;

“Bok, we need a filler, can you write something—a poem or an essay about any movie you have watched. A movie review of any movie you have watched.”

And he liked it. And they liked what he wrote. He writes as he writes.

But still he is not happy for he feels he cannot express what he feels in another language. He still yearns to write in Tagalog.

In college he stopped writing. Kept himself busy with school until he became involved with the Pilipino club. There he met the famous Pilipino poets and writers, both old and young and his passion for Pilipino was enflamed.

This time, when the First Quarter Storm came, he became an activist until he met an activist who was very instrumental to his being in the movement. He was recruiting him from high school until college and he became one of them. He asked him about something he can never forget.

“ You are a good speaker, why not write?”

“ I don’t have the gift for it. And besides, I just want to talk."

“If great people did not write, we will have nothing to read and discuss. Remember that. I know you love reading, then learn to love writing.”

“But you know I am an introvert. I don’t want to be like Alan Poe or Shelly who exposed themselves and their feelings. I am a private person.”

“Then write about the society. What change you want and convince people about the change you want to happen.” He was floored with that.

“ People will remember how good you speak. But they will remember you more if they can read what you write. We don't know, you might be another Mao or Lenin in the future. ”

He ended smiling, knowing that he will think about it.

His first try to write an essay in Pilipino. He joined an essay writing contest for the first time.

He was with his friends, all Pilipino writers and they were engaged in a bitter debate about the winner in that essay writing contest. He was surprised to find out they were the judges in that university wide contest.

“ I am still against declaring that writer the winner we do not know him.” Said one of his friends.

“ Well, that is why we will only know them by numbers. That is to avoid partisanship” one of his high school friends declared.

“ But what if he is not one of ours. If he is not an activist or an ND like us. It will be a shame if we let a no-activist win. ”. The older guy said. He was the son of a famous Pilipino poet.

“Hey”, he told them. “Can you tell me what is the title of the piece you are arguing.”

When they told him he laughed and said: “Don’t worry, It is I who wrote it.” And he laughed aloud.

“ Well, that settled the case, I knew it…the style was familiar. ” his high school friend laughed the loudest.

“We never knew you can write that well. Congratulations!” and they all hugged him.

Most of his life . he wrote in Pilipino and other dialects and very little in English. But every time he wrote he remembered him.

He still remembers his Pilipino teacher who rejected him and others who help and encourage him to write.

Yes, now he must have to write in English. For him, writing is not only a gift but a passion. He learned that one must have passion and love to write.

For him that is that is writing.


******

Short Story


May 10. 2012





A Fil-Am Friend





She was one of his first Filipino-American friends.





She happened to be one of his friends because she belongs to an activist organization in America. It was his first year in America and he did not know how to make friends with “Fil-Ams.”





But because they are in a movement (that’s what he thought), they are all “comrades” the way they are in the Philippines. Later he learned it in the hard way that friendship is different from comradeship. A friend is different from a comrade.





She was a daughter of a navy man. Her parents were both Filipinos. Later when he talked to her parents she was able to learn so many things he never learned from her. As usual you have to go to the roots to learn how the tree grew up.





The first thing she said to him was “ I am afraid I cannot hang out with you. I am not your age and we have different cultures.”





He answered, “ We don’t need to hang-out so often, our relations are political, remember we are comrades.”





All things changed when she went to the Philippines. Her attitude changed. But that was only for the short time. He recalled when they arrived from Seattle; she stomped out and left her father behind.





“ Very disrespectful. Well there goes, the spoiled brat” He said to himself as he just wiggled his head as he looked to the father running after her daughter at the arrival area. They did not even bother to looked back and say bye to him.





He did not let it go and criticized her for her attitude.





When he talked to the dad he learned many things. And he sized himself up and said: “ Maybe my daughters will also be like her because we both are always away from them.”





He hears out the old man’s lament: “ I did not choose to go to America . We are too poor. My parents were fishermen and we have to look for our future. I don't want to be a fisherman for the rest of my life.





I joined the navy and I rarely see her. I blamed myself for what she is now. She is looking for a country that I left behind and she blamed me.” The old man said.





“Just promised me one thing. That she will not change her citizenship. I fear for her life.” The told man repeated that until they dropped him to the train station.





Their relationship was purely political. They argue a lot especially on issues and some of her side activities. Until one day, she called him, DAD”





“Oh my god, I can’t believe I called you that.”





“What” he was surprised.





“I cant’ believe I called you dad! I did not mean it. That’s what I do when we argue , my dad and me about something.” He looked at her with surprise and amazement.





She was very apologetic. Thinking maybe he will be offended. That she was being ageist (a term he did not know by then). Or she feels she disrespected him because he was older or too old?





He just laughed and said. “ No problem, that’s nothing.”





And that’s only the start.





Another time they were arguing, he got piqued he walked out on her. And he was jolted when he felt a shove over his pack. She was so angry that she hit him at the back. He just looked back at her and with angry eyes; he left hurriedly without even looking.





He understood her more when he talked to her mother. That is one time when they visited her house when she was away in the Philippines.





" Her dad was always away. You know the life of a US Navy man. That is why when he comes home and try impose his discipline in the house I always remind him that he has been away and he does not know his children. So he must rest and just keep quiet and enjoy the company of his children.





My girl, she was an achiever. She played basketball even I told her not. Oh, if you just see how she played, even when those Black girls in her high school play dirty, clawing her face and her eyes, she kept on playing. She was intrepid" her mom proudly told us





" The only thing i always remind her is she is too loyal to her friends. That is why she suffers for her friends. And that is not good. I've been telling her it time to love yourself."





He believes it, she is extremely loyal. One of the pitfalls he saw in her. But cannot correct and never tried to corrct. He told himself: "Let her figure it out for herself."





But honestly he enjoyed being with her because he learned many things from his Fill-Am friend.





And a smile on his lips will always be seen, when he remembered her.





*********

Poem
May 12, 2012

Tiring?

1.

I am tired of loving people,
Who don’t love me,
I am tired of caring for people,
Who doesn’t care,
I am tired of fighting for people,
Who don’t want to struggle,
Who betrays me,
Who cheated on me,
Who tried to sell me,
Who don’t want to free,
Yet I have to be with them,
Still love them, care for them,
They who made cry,
They who laughed at me,
They who rejoiced when I failed,
They who never cared
And used me
I thank thee
For you made me
Strong;
And stronger
Than ever.

2.

They who gave me food
Instead of feeding themselves
And their love ones;
They who gave their lives
For me and chose to die
Without saying any word
And never betrayed me
To their last breath;
They who were
my mothers and fathers,
who gave me home
their homes as my own,
Who nursed me back to life,
Who carried me through,
They who prayed and laughed
With me,
Played their music,
Their gongs and drums
To their hearts and war beats;
They who died for me

3.

For they are my people;
I will fight for them;
I have to,
And I will..

Apg
May 12, 2012

"

The Pigeon

Poem

March 24, 2012

The Pigeon

On the way to Waterloo,

In a train station…

I saw a one-legged pigeon

Trying hard to balance itself,

Limping but still able to fly.

I remembered the peace talks

Exemplified by it

Trying to soar and can’t get off,

The movement

Trying to move forward

After so many setbacks,

Then I remembered myself,

A broken-spirited soul,

Gutted by memories,

Trying to fly.

I remember the pigeon

As it flies away,

The brave birdwolf,

As it flies north,

Spirit still intact

As I should be.

On my way to Waterloo,

Where Napoleon met

His fate,

I remembered.

Alpie Garcia

Bagbag

Tula
Marso 16, 2012

Bagbag

Kapag namulaklak ang puno ng  Bagbag
Kailangang maghanap ng puputuling ulo
Ang mga mandirigmang Ilongot para ialay sa liyag.

Kapag namulaklak ang Bagbag,
Papasok na ang tagsibol sa Amerika,
Senyas sa pagpasok ng tag-araw.

Tulad ng sa Pinas, pulang pula ang bulaklak
ng Bagbag habang kayumanggi ang dahong
dating lagas na mabilis na nagsisitubo.

Labinlimang tag-lagas ng Bagbag
Sa Amerika, lalong nagmumukhang Maynila
ang LA sa dami ng lubak sa kalsada

Dumarami ang nagtitinda ng sa malamig
Sa mga kanto at nagluluto ng tostada
Pagdating ng napakalamig ng gabi.

Paparami ang mga pulubi
Na natutulog sa kalsada
Hindi na sila sinisita ng mga pulis

Puno ang mga pagtitipon
Habang bumibigkas ng “spoken word”
Ang mga Ingles na makata

Putok ang mga nite club
habang lasing na nagsasayawan
ang mga kabataan at may perang parukyano.

Dumarami ang nagsasayaw sa FACLA
Habang masaya akong nagmamasid
Sa mga walang sawang mananayaw.

Masarap uminom ng black label
o corona sa pagitan ng mga pulutan
habang nagbibidahan ang mga binata.

Matapos ang panonood
At ilang oras  sa  facebook,
Muli babagtasin ang kalsadang mag-isa.

Muling pagmamasdan ang Bagbag,
Nagkakadahon at mamumulaklak
Sa ikalabinglimang taon ng distiyero sa Amerika.

Al P. Garcia

DC, Bagong Ro

Tula
Marso 18, 2012

DC, Bagong Roma

Nilikha ang bagong Roma,
Bayang nililok mula sa putikan,
Sa gitna ng mga ilog at lawang
Tinayuan ng mga batong gusali
Upang pahangain ang mga hari,
Reyna ,Presidente at ulo ng mga bansa

Nakakalat ang mga monumento
Sa iyong pithaya
simbolo daw ng mga tagumpay,
Bagamat walang mga alipin at
Kayamanang ipagpaparangalan
Sa mga parada, ang iyong lakas
isinisigaw sa lahat.

Habang ang mga parada
Ng tagumpay ssa digmaan
para sa New York,
Ang panunumpa ng presidente
para sa iyo,
Ang seremonya ay mula sa Kongreso
Tungo sa Bahay na Puti
Pabalik sa iyo.

Tulad ng mga nagwaging senturyon
sa mga digmaan sa kanilang karwahe,
dala ang mga dambong ng digma
at mga aliping huli,
paparada ang mga hukbong
nagwasak at sumakop sa mundo.

Dito ang mga ulo ng  bansa
Ay kailangang magbigay pugay
Sa Puting Bahay na Bato
Hindi na Senadong walang babae
Kundi ang kanilang mga asawa at kabit

Dito ang gabi ay tulad din sa lahat,
Kung saan puno ang mga niteclub
At lihim na putahan at lalakihan,
Nabababaha ang alak at pulutan
At nagpapalitan ang katas
Ng mga nambabae at nanlalaki

Tulad ng dati
pilit itinatago ang panlulumo
sa tagay ng alak at pagkawala ng libido,
sa sayawan at walang kwentang usapang
hahatong sa kama at tagisan ng mga katawan
at makamundong pagnanasa.

Habang ang mga bantayog
ay naliliwanagan ng mga lente,
ang kukutikutip na mga casa
ay umiindayog sa mga katawan
mistulang sutla na nagsasayaw
sa hangin, sa alak at tugtog.

Ano ba ang bago sa Washington DC?
Wala, kundi ang lumang kapalaluhan,
Ang yabang ng kapangyarihan
At lakas ng banta ng digma?

Nag-iba lang marahil ang DC
Sa isang pag-ibig sa gitna ng protesta,
Kahit kailan ang pag-ibig na ito
Ay dalisay at totoo.

Itong lang ang too sa gitna ng dalisay
At maraming puting crysantemum
Na nagbubunga sa tagsibol
Ng bawat panahon.

Al P. Garcia

Under the Tree at 1st and Independence

Poem
March 20, 2012

Under the Tree at 1st and Independence

Its fine to  rest on the bench
Under the tree at 1st and Independence
Gazing at the Capitol Dome
Right after beating the halls
Of US Congress in a lobby
in a March afternoon.

To breathe the fresh air of early spring
After the suffocating air
From the classical buildings
And the balmy offices of Congress,
Its fine.

It’s nice to watch the crowd
Pass by in different get ups
Like zombies of the walking dead,
Unmindful of the thoughts of people
not wanting to eat flesh
but read minds.

The sense of urgency,
The heat up passions,
The anger still there,
Like the smoking barrel of the gun.
Still hot from gasses and powder,
Ready to explode in the sun.

Al P. Garcja

Tadek

Poem

Tadek

Al P. Garcia

I missed the beatings

Of the wooden drums,

The stumping of

pairs of feets

Upon the trodden bamboos,

The swaying hips that grinds,

The brown stalks into submission

Until it becomes dark white

From the mortar,

As brown bodies

Filled with sweats,

Intermingled with tears,

Body juices erupts

into consuming estacy,

while we dance

deep into the moonless

night.

March 09, 2012

Full Moon

Poem 3

Full Moon

When was the last time

You embraced the earth?

And shrouded it with

Your loving arms,

Spread your brawny

Brown legs

wide overshadowing

the angry sun

on solar explosions,

as bright as your wide grin

and beautiful dimples,

blankets as it

intoxicates and caress

the  countours

of your magic mountains…

like the sleepy

beauty…

since when?

March 10, 2012

Four Days at EDSA (Day 4/ The Final Day)

Discordant Notes

February 25, 2012

Four Days at EDSA (Day 4/ The Final Day)

The description of that times were like the lyrics of the Frank Sinatra’s  song My Way: “ and now the end is near, and so I  face the final curtain…”

And on the fourth day, the coast became clearer. Now that the major TV and radio stations are all at the hands of the military rebels, the more we cannot rely on them on factual news. It’s all hallelujah time for the rebels and for Cory Aquino.  

We got a clearer picture, analysis  and news with the VOA and BBC broadcasts.

The hand of US Imperialism was very clear from day one. The United States sent its big time negotiator to Manila to warn both sides of the AFP, the Marcos loyalist and the RAM rebels led by Enrile and Ramos not to slug it out for it will only benefit “ the communists.”

And the two sides complied but conducted their own initiatives The Marcos-Ver forces ordered the AFP artillery from Fort Bonifacio to fire at Camp Crame but the army refused. They ordered the air force to bomb Camp Crame and they defected en masse. They ordered the PNP to disperse the crowd but the PNP defected to General Ramos.

On the other side, it was the RAM who seized the initiative. We were surprised to see in that morning newspapers the CHDF from Cagayan and former NPA rebel returnees who terrorized the masses of Cagayan with Major Aguinaldo who attacked and seized Channel 2 and 4 stations. It was the former ABS-CBN Broadcast center. And now they are being treated as heroes in Manila.

We learned it again in 1987 and 1989 during the “ acoustic wars” between the Pro-Cory yellow forces and the combined Marcos loyalist-RAM rebels cum coup plotters  with the US acting like a referee and dictating the tempo of their armed clashes and conspiracies.

One thing was clear. Everybody were claiming themselves as heroes. How they sacrificed so this will be a reality. Including the arch enemies of the people.

The same persons  who were also with Marcos – deep in his inner circle when he declared martial law; Juan Ponce-Enrile, the warlord from Cagayan and General Fidel Ramos who was the vice-chief of staff and PNP Chief during the 14 years of the Marcos dictatorship.

The media even the foreign press was announcing that there will be an important announcement that afternoon. The ground was abuzz with the unconfirmed news that Marcos had fled the Philippines. People were tired of the FVR psywar that Marcos fled earlier that was not true. Now they are all waiting for confirmation of the rumor that Marcos and his family fled somewhere.

It was erie silence again when the crackle from the radio came in. It was a voice of a magistrate and a women who is being sworn in as the President of the Philippines. Corazon Cojuanco Aquino, the bereaved wife of opposition senator Benigno Aquino Jr is now the president of the Philippines.

The news anchor described the events at Club Filipino in San Juan, Rizal. Present at the swearing in was General Fide Ramos and Juan Ponce Enrile. Later the news confirmed that they were appointed by Mrs. Aquino as Defense Secretary and new Chief of Staff of the “New Armed Forces of the Philippines” or the NAFP.

As the French says it; “ the more it change, the more it remains the same.”

The revolution is over. Marcos has fled the palace and that night, the news reported that multitudes of people ransacked the presidential palace. The rest is history.

We put off the radio. And we all went to sleep after four straight days of sleeplessness. Everybody were tired. I can just smile to see them dozed off at different corners of the house we were in.

And we know that a new chapter of the people’s struggle is about to begin.

With Enrile and Ramos at the helm, with the AFP in their control, it’s like Marcos time without Marcos. Weird but true. We are all thinking of the inevitable. What will happen to the people when the rebels forces or the NAFP  came back to the provinces?  Will they stop the human rights abuses or will they just aggravate it?

The King is dead, long Live the Queen!

We have to sleep and rest, save our energy to wake up for another day.

Days ahead will be full of troubles.

***********

Four Days in EDSA ( Day 3)

Discordant Notes

February 24, 2012

Four Days in EDSA ( Day 3)

“ The battle of EDSA will be decided on who can bring their reserves to Manila” 

This was the analysis of Prof. MacCcoy of Australia on a broadcast by the BBC on the third day of the EDSA Uprising. He mentioned the failed attempt of RAM forces to bring in reinforcements from Davao  in the Manila International Airport when they were all arrested upon arrival by the Marcos loyalist forces.

Its funny because Prof.McCcoy stressed  in his BBC analysis that the Philippines have only two C130 plane and it is still controlled by Marcos forces. The RAM forces came in a regular PAL flight. I will learn later that Prof. McCcoy made a very good study of the notorious RAM officers and it was a very authoritative study of the human rights violations by the RAM during the 14 years of Marcos dictatorship.

Earlier, the marine contingent was stopped by the multitudes of people at the corner of Ortigas and EDSA. The old amphbious vehicles/tanks driven by the Marines were stopped by Col. Tadiar because he cannot bear driving it through the millions of people who were holding up their tanks. Thus the reserves were stopped cold in their tracks by the people.

On the onset, as if the advantage was still on the dictator’s side. But on the third day, the balance of forces began to turn as some of the AFP forces began changing sides, became neutral or refused to budge in their positions as millions of people gathered in EDSA to protect the rebel forces.It seems that the dictator is losing his grip on his forces who began to mutiny.

Late that night, we heard over DZRH that private cars shadowed a convoy of armed personnel carriers (APC) coming from Malacanang before they reached EDSA and blocked their way at Timog Avenue. The cars were led by actor Aga Mulach and former broadcaster Orly Mercado. We can visualize the chase and can hear the honking of cars by the tune of "LABAN."

But were also saddened when Radio Veritas (DZRV) went off the air because of a bombing incident but were gladdened again when Radio Bandido went into the air. It was so nice to hear the battle hymn during that election campaign; “Mambo Magsaysay.”

What really surprised us is that the PNP forces under General Alfredo Lim who headed the NPD, switched sides and refused to obey the orders of the dictator to disperse the crowd at EDSA. He reported to General Ramos and took orders from him.

And then we heard over DZRH that early morning that the some AFP anti-riot forces led by General Balbandero, Camp Aguinaldo  Commander tried to disperse the crowd at Santolan. They threw gas canisters at the crowd but the wind blew the gas back to the camp perimeter at the delight of the crowd.

The biggest news of that day was the defection of the 9th Strike Wing of attack of the Philippine Air force. They were tasked to attack Camp Crame but Col. Sotelo, a Cagayano and a province mate of Enrile changed his mind when he saw the millions of people in EDSA.

Instead of attacking Camp Crame, he landed the helicopters into the parade ground of rebel held camp  and reported to the rebels. Now the AFP rebels have their air force.

Later that afternoon, the Sikorsky helicopters bombed the palace, destroyed some air assets in Villamor Air Base and warned the Marcos family and their cronies that their end is near.

The coup de grace came late in the afternoon when the military rebels were able to wrest the two government owned radio and television stations, Channel 9 and Channel 4 and the live feed of Marcos inauguration at Malacanang Palace went off the air.

We were right in cautioning ever body that the fight is not yet over when General Ramos announced that the Marcos Family fled.He even bragged that it was the job of the police to arrest the President who is still holed up in Malacanang. It was all a psy-war propaganda. It turned out to be false alarm because Marcos went on air on his inauguration. But when the broadcast was cut-off, we felt something is really happening that night.

We went on the 3rd day without seeing any military forces in their camps. We heard in the FEBC news that the notorious 48th IB Philippine Army based in Isabela and Nueva Vizcaya  was deployed at the GMA TV Station in EDSA.It was the erie silence that bothers us.

The 17th, 41st  and 21st IB were called to the NOLCOM Headquarters in Tarlac. The 5th Division, the armored component of the AFP was based in the North. They were  called in as reserves with all its APC's to Manila  but cannot proceed to Manila. They were at the NOLCOM  HQ and was stalled in Tarlac because the  borders of Pampanga and Bulacan were barricaded by the people. The center of struggle  now is in the urban areas.

Even the government radio is now broadcasting the news that the PNP is under the control of Ramos loyalist. One by one, the PNP regional commands are reporting that they are awaiting orders from Camp Crame and not from Malacanang.

Changes are happening everyday, and it kept us on our toes.

What if Marcos forces counter-attack?  Are they still capable of mounting  a last ditch stand or a desperate offensive?

We closed our eyes and had an uneasy sleep that night.Too many questions unanswered and yet more questions came to the fore.  Is this just a prelude to a more bloody revolution like Russia in 1917 or China in 1949 or very specific in the Philippines?

We will know the answer on the next day.

*********

FOUR DAYS of EDSA ( Day 2)

Discordant Notes

February 23, 2012

FOUR DAYS of EDSA ( Day 2)

Arturo P. Garcia

Away from where the action is, we were like boxing or basketball aficionados listening to the radio and getting a blow by blow account on what is happening in EDSA in Metro Manila on the second day of the Mexican stand-off. And that was February 23, 1986.

To facilitate the news, we assigned people to listen every hour on different stations. We assigned them to listen to specific radio stations like the DZRH, Radio Veritas, the government radio and the foreign broadcast namely the BBC, the VOA and the Far East Broadcasting Corporation (FEBC) based in Manila but was broadcasting via shortwave.

We discussed and analyzed the news as it comes.

We also assigned people to listen on their rounds, so while the others sleep, others can still listen to the news  as they do their daily chores. Everybody were glued to their radio sets. And then we made it a point to hoard batteries because we feel that the crisis will go on for days.

All the radio stations gave a blow by blow account especially when the breakaway group of Enrile and Ramos transferred from indefensible Camp Aguinaldo or the DND building to a more defensible Camp Crame, the headquarters of the PNP that is very loyal and controlled by FVR.

The evening earlier, Cardinal Sin made a call to the public to mass at EDSA to protect the breakaway duo who from the broadcast made a public confessions of their sins against the people and asked the people to protect them

It was a revealing moment when Enrile admitted the fake ambush in 1972 and the cheating in Cagayan Valley. We were right after-all and we were elated that the truth about election rigging in the northern provinces were validated by the guy who made it possible. The old warlord who was so arrogant is now trembling at his unknown fate and is laying on the table the truth at last.

And we were surprised that Enrile and Ramos admitted that Cory Aquino won the elections and they were offering to recognize her as  the elected president of the Philippines. I smiled and thought, how desperate men clutch at straw at their desperate hours.

And then we confirmed the fact that days before, the rag-tag PC Major Rodolfo Aguinaldo’s private army composed of former NPA rebels, Negrito fighters and CHDF from several towns of Cagayan were transported by bus to Manila.

Yes, we missed how these arrogant bands who usually marched in the town centers, manned the checkpoint and brutalized the people everyday, harass religious and human rights workers and even ordinary people—everyday.  And all of a sudden they were gone.

We also confirmed that companies of PC soldiers under Provincial Commander Tirso Gador, fresh from his advance schooling in Fort Benning , Georgia the personal bodyguard of Defense Minister Enrile who was also from Cagayan also went to Manila riding public busses in civilian clothes to converge in Manila to take part in the failed coup.

Later we learned that they manned the defense building in Camp Aguinaldo where Enrile and Ramos made their press conference. We saw their faces on the morning Manila newspapers that filtered the provincial capitols.

Later we  learned from the radio that they were being armed from the helicopters coming from the provinces that dropped arms cache on top of the MND building in Camp Aguinaldo.

That morning, the still confident dictator paraded before the media, his generals and captured coup plotters and proudly announced that they discovered and quelled the palace coup that was hatched by the RAM led by Col. Gregorio Honasan. He asked the Defense minister and the PC Chief and also the Vice-Chief of staff to surrender peacefully.

He even commented; “This is the most documented mutiny I have ever seen in my life. So, Minister  Enrile and General Ramos, IO again ask you---surrender now because all your actions are duly recorded.”

It was very quiet in the provinces because nearly all the army and the PC camps were empty. It seems everybody were in Manila. But it was very silent and we were not used to that silence. The only time that obscure silence occurred was the day when Senator Aquino was killed in the airport. And that was August 21, 1983.

We made a joked. That this is the time that the NPA must declare that the provinces in the north are “liberated areas”. But they did not do it. Maybe they did not like the joke. Or maybe they do not have the capacity to do that. Or both.

One by one, politicians have switched sides. I heard a former navy officer resign and placed his bet on the side of the people. The DZRH as well as Radio Veritas has reported there were millions of  people in EDSA.

We all concluded that that will be a long night.

The second long night at EDSA.

******