Sunday, August 19, 2007

Vallorbe in real life

The waters rage outside the caves of Vallorbe.

It Was the Caves of Vallorbe

By Mila D. Aguilar

It was the caves of Vallorbe
Les grottes de Vallorbe
That did me in.

That did me in,
Les grottes de Vallorbe
The cold of

The beautiful caves
Of Vallorbe.
The icy handrails

Of the caves of Vallorbe.
I hardly noticed
As I trekked up and down

The steel steps
Des grottes de Vallorbe
Admiring the

Stalactites and stalagmites
The odd formations
That produced not

One precious stone
That my back had clogged
That my butt had clogged

With the steely cold
Of the caves of Vallorbe.
And it did me in,

That was what did me in,
The icy cold
Of the caves of Vallorbe.

Saturday, August 18, 2007
2:46:51 AM
Philippine Time
Written at the airport in Frankfurt on a two-hour stopover of the flight from Geneva to Manila.

Tuesday, January 23, 2007

The Filipino Speaks to NICA & the CIA

(In memory of Prof. Jose Ma. Cui)
By Mila D. Aguilar

Killing them one by one,
You think you’re doing humanity a favor.
Not like Indonesia, after all,
A million in one swoop.

Here you’re targeting
The best of a generation: Just getting “commies”
Out of the loop, so that
You can mix your own soup.

Who was it that said
You can’t kill an idea by shooting it
Dead. And yet you just
May succeed, you evil weed.

Preparing for the coming
Of your Wicked One, the antinomy of mine.
Only remember you have but
Three and a half years

To spread your seed
And then your end will come for all time.
Oh, you’ll get your chance
Again, after a thousand

But the reversal will be
Compleat. So accept your defeat, beat a retreat,
Leave my world to me
And Him, who’s my eternity.

Tuesday, January 23, 2007
12:30-1:56 PM

Tuesday, January 16, 2007

In Excelsis Deo

by Mila D. Aguilar

This woman’s playing chess
Without a tear.
After eating up all the pawns
She’s now targeting bishops
From the rear.
No storm, it seems,
Can stay her
Rather deadly,
Ungodly career.

Why don’t the people
Arise, you ask.
So many lives wasted,
So much blood left out
In the sun to bask
Like dried meat seeking
Salt to stop the reeking.
Let me tell you one thing,
Dear, it’s not a simple,
Easy task.

You have been asked
To pray.
You have refused
On the excuse
Of forging broader fronts.
There is no way
This front can come together
Of its own accord.
If you’ll but see the greater power
This woman will not stay

Another hour.

October 4, 2006
11:03:59 AM - 12:55:06 PM