Welcome to my site! I hope you will enjoy reading the personal articles as I journey and navigate this life. I welcome suggestions for topics that you think are important, relevant, and valuable.
Please feel free to leave your comments by clicking the "Comments" section, located below each article. You can also email any article to your relatives and friends by clicking the "Email This" button, also located at the end of each article.
I am inviting my readers to share their stories of courage, success or resiliency to inspire other readers. You can submit your stories, 2-3 paragraphs in length, via the Comments section, located at the end of every article page. Your stories will be added to the "Readers' Contributions" page.
Another beautiful poem from Julieta Cabaraban Beja. Apollo, her poem title, is the Greek god of music, poetry, prophecy, and the sun. See what imagery and feelings are evoked when you read Sofia's poem. This poem is dated Feb. 15, 2011.
~Contributed by Sofia Cabaraban Beja
You are the silence of the dawn;
the tick tock and alarm.
You are the text messages most frequent;
the constant longing, my reply urgent.
You are the distant keys
of ebony and ivory release.
You are the skin-near string
where hope and inspiration spring.
You are the Eye of Horus-
the unsung melody of sexual chorus.
You are warmth, healing and prophecy...
and I, the Daphne of your mercy.
Another contribution from Romeo Naces. He told me that this poem, crafted when he was still a student at Xavier University, was written on-the-spot in the English class of Prof. Antonia Electona. To his credit, Romeo was exempted from the final exam. This poem is about forbidden love.
~Contributed by Romeo Naces
fluttering fronds above,
quivering streaks of light,
of tapering shadows
on anxious thrill,
on nervous joy.
ah, freedom so elusive,
there, smooth, wet sand,
yonder, mossy driftwood,
here, hidden scene,
we can clearly see
without being seen.
stealthily, ebb tide kisses
our sandy, naked feet,
but why the stealth?
why be reluctant?
why be furtive before
the naked truth?
is this passion a fugitive,
a despicable outcast
so hideous that the glow
of its flame must hide,
languish and die out
here in the dark?
I have requested Fred Derequito to contribute his poem, entitled "Funny Face" in my website. A former classmate of mine at Xavier University, Fred dabbles with poetry as a way of putting reality into artistry. Enjoy his poem below. This poem is dated Feb. 11, 2011 and is dedicated to all wives and mothers on Valentine's Day.
~Contributed by Fred Derequito
She looks lovable even when she is mad
and so composed when things turn out bad.
How she smiles even in deep, sweet slumber
that I love watching whenever I am with her.
Kids get sick, turns me into a nervous wreck,
she just smiles “Relax, hon, get some sleep”.
And while I’m snoring, totally lost to the world,
she lovingly nurses them with a heart of gold.
Next morning she whispers “How’s my man?”
What have I done to deserve such a woman!
I smile thinking her children really total five
the oldest of whom is fast approaching 65!
When like a volcano I erupt she allows me
then soothes it with “Are you okay, honey?
Now let's talk about this like two sane people”,
leaving me chastened, an old choleric fool.
I often wonder how she lasted many a year
living with my juvenile, explosive temper.
Thank you Lord for her, prays this nut case
married to a lady I fondly call...Funny Face.
(To all wives and mothers, Happy Valentines!!!)
Another contribution by Romeo Naces. He churns poems almost daily that I think he can now create a book of poems. This poem is dated Feb. 7, 2011.
ARDENT LOVER'S REVERIE
(A Valentine Poem)
~Contributed by Romeo Naces
In the quiet creeping in of tomorrows
and in the silent oozing out of todays,
there breathe moments so mellow,
so intimately yours and mine.
Spoken words for us are not anymore
of any use in these quiet hours of ours.
We have no need for them for now.
They have no place here in our silence.
For in our silence we feel, we know.
We understand, we question better.
We speak no longer with utterances,
rather with the throbbing of our hearts.
We don't need to open our eyes to see.
For the flame of our faith shall guide us
through dark caverns of doubt and fear
to the neutral light of truth about ourselves.
We grope for oneness of our hearts,
through our hearts, within our hearts.
For understanding in our ignorance,
for strength in our weakness.
For sweet, sacred, whispered secrets
smilingly shared by us, just between us.
Secrets that are truly yours and mine
in these moments that are truly ours, LOVE!
A Valentine Poem by Julieta Sofia Cabaraban Beja. She is a former student who loves writing essays and poems. She intimated that whenever she writes she feels "free and light". She is indeed a creative person by the looks of her writings! This poem is dated Feb. 7, 2011.
From my watery grave of sand and muck,
From feelings of loss and just plain stuck,
You called me by the name of my birth-
Softly, with a voice filled with mirth.
There wasn't a noble steed nor a sword.
Vined thorns unclasped at the sound of a comforting word.
No designer armor nor charm's delight;
You came with your wings and your light.
This poem is so lame, I know!
I tried to be extra peotic though.
I still fear your love's embrace;
Maybe, somehow, we'll see better days.
Below is a poem contributed by Romeo Naces, a former classmate and a friend for life. We both graduated from Xavier University with majors in Philosophy and English Literature. His poem is dated Jan. 13, 2010:
What Is A Door?
I've been a carpenter-mason all my grownup years,
and somethingng's been bugging this brain between my ears.
I've asked experts in architecture and furniture,
but the more they explain, all the more I'm unsure.
I must have been to them either a pest or a bore,
but then my question simply is: What is a door?
Some say it's that panel or board that's hinged to the wall,
that which you push or pull, swing or knock on when you call,
with knob and key, with lock and bolt to secure the place.
Yet others say a door is but that vertical space
through which you can walk or dash away from pole to pole.
As a passage through a wall, a door is just a hole.
But without a panel, you'll be knocking on nothing.
And if you do, some folks will think you're nuts or something.
But then without that gap or hole we call empty space,
that wall will flatten out that nose there upon your face.
Today I don't ask that silly question anymore
for when I do, I'm shooed away and I'm shown the door!
Contribution from one of my readers, dated Jan. 1, 2011, in response to My Personal Gratitude List This Christmas:
There are a lot of things which I am grateful for the year that was. First of all my family who have been there for me through my ups and downs and our 3 little gifts namely: Ckian, Ckiara and Rian. Second are my friends who taught me things by way of their constant sharing of experiences and aspirations. My former professors including ma'am Amy who planted in me the seed of curiosity about things and the wonderment that they bring. People do come and go and there are some who stayed, whoever you are, I am sincerely grateful. And also surprisingly there are new comers who amazed me of their giftedness that I find them a blessing and an inspiration. For every little thing that happened last year, I am truly grateful regardless if it/they were bad or good. To one and all, thank you very much! Onward! - SEF / JN