Saturday, October 30, 2010

(Realismus) The taking of the barrio

The taking of the barrio



It was nighttime when a group of people, with gun in hand, moving silently but surely towards their objective.

These group of people, composed of full time rebels, and more than a hundred of militiamen, coming from local tribesmen escaped from the horrible tragedy coming from the enemy, set forth a complicated objective: taking the barrio being controlled by the enemy.

That barrio, once a peaceful village, was attacked then ransacked by the enemy-displacing its residents and even destroyed their property as if calling it as their territory. God forbid, but these people didn't notice that the people's revenge will stop their orgy of violence.

Nestled on the top of the mountain, that barrio, as well as the surrounding villages being controlled by the enemy, was been controlled under the counter-insurgency program being implemented by the enemy's command. But instead of order, people expected violence as these soldiers, along with vigilantes, ransacked some of the houses, killed suspected rebels that in fact, innocent people, and even raped women! These numerous human rights violations made by these rabid fools increased the people's defiance to the point of escaping from the barrio to another-or even to the comrades whom they spoke their grievances to them.

However,
That barrio was also crawling as well with informers, yes, civilian informers employed by the enemy, that forced some of the comrades to meet with another outside out of safety.

And due to the reasons coming from the suffering majority, the group decided to launch an offensive, a raid on the barrio and to enable comrades to conduct more systematic political, educational and genuine socio-civic work among the people. As well as to increase the supply of weapons through arms confiscation and to impose revolutionary justice to those who done crimes against the people. With this in mind, the Red fighters, revolutionaries, continued their journey to that suffering barrio.

The comrades reached their destination at midnight, all saints day at that time. They divided into three company size formations: one group heading for the village hall wherein the local gendarmerie and the military used as a barracks, the other one towards a house, acted as a detachment for the soldiers, and the last-wherein the houses of the vigilantes were.

Everything around that barrio had been planned enough, meticulously so to speak. Earlier, groups of partisan units cleared the surrounding areas of informers, of hostile forces that, those who survived were paralyzed with outmost fear! Followed by a patiently-conducted investigation of the area, conducted by some of the comrades, and drawn an accurate map based upon the information taken and collected. The areas, paths were also being drawn too. They had checked and counter-checked the numbers of enemy troopers and their weapons, had anticipated everything that could happen during the offensive, and planned for every eventuality.

From all indications, the raid was certain degree of success.

It took only 30 minutes to encircle the area. A "blocking force", consisted of the militia, was quickly set up along the major roads and exits to deter any enemy reinforcements that might arrive. All vehicles heading for the town proper, wherein the headquarters of the enemy located, were stopped, while vehicles heading in the opposite direction were allowed to pass.

By 2 a.m., the offensive began. Comrades surrounding the town plaza made their presence known to the enemy, calling them aloud to surrender. Shocked awake, the enemy troopers shouted back, cursing the guerrillas badly as they could. All the shouting made the dogs bark and howl, same as the chickens coming from nearby houses and the noise was deafening.

The "shouting war" went on up to sunrise, when suddenly the enemy opened fire towards the comrades. The latter then answered with superior gunfire from the BARs, FALs, AKs, M14s and M16s-making the barrio hall riddled with bullets while the enemy tried enough to counter, but failed to do so. Some teams ordered the people to be evacuated, while some immediately arrested the suspected vigilantes, informers, human rights violators-especially those who tried to escape or wage a shooting war yet failed.

The detachment, like the barrio hall, was also suffered-one of the rebels even fired a recoilless rifle on the window-suffering a greater damage and casualty amongst the enemy ranks resisting inside, the enemy tried to call for reinforcements-not noticing that an ambush stopped their attempt to break the offensive set forth by the revolutionaries.

By 8 o'clock in the morning, the battle stopped. And signals of surrender were tendered. "Come out! Don’t be afraid. You will not be harmed," the Red fighters called out. Slowly the Gendarmerie and the rest of their allies came out of the wrecked buildings, shaking with fear as they faced the gun-wielding guerrillas. They were taken prisoner and their arms confiscated.

At 10 o'clock, the disarming operation was ended.

The whole town population, with the local officials, were then assembled for a mass meeting and cultural presentation courtesy of the freedom fighters. There the latter explained very well the actions made by the offensive, and condemned oppressive local officials as well as military who once controlled the entire barrio and its surroundings, and exhorted the townspeople to join the national democratic revolution, and to wage armed struggle as its forefront.

After the presentation, the guerrillas also convened a people’s court to try the cruel officials, especially the members of the gendarmerie and the vigilantes who made various crimes in the name of national security. They even presented their findings to the masses, with testimonials and evidences coming from the victims.

Most of the people were then condemned them to die, while the defendants plead for their innocence and one of them even condemned the courts as a "facade for terrorism." People simply disagreed with the statement, and the members of the people's court immediately ordered the death sentence to the oppressive members of the order-being sentenced to death my musketry.

After the execution, the masses, as well as the guerrillas in the nearby consolidated areas surrounding the village then celebrated the successful raid with feasting, singing and dancing. The number of rifles seized in the offensive were quite as many than the last ambush set last time: 43 assorted firearms and 1,260 rounds of ammunition, as well as cash, paper, typewriters, office equipment, and others. The revolutionaries also set forth a revolutionary people's government, and even sent a contingent of revolutionary forces to guard the entire barrio in case of reprisal from the enemy.

The raid, turned into an offensive, the result of patient and persistent work, also showed the massive popular support of the minorities for the revolution. The red fighters, supported by the people's militia, were able, for example, to mobilize more than a hundred people to support them in this tactical offensive. They were able to move in and out of the barrio and its surroundings with ease, because their eyes and ears—their great rear, the masses—were always with them, caring and serving same as the revolutionaries as they defend and serve their compatriots in the middle of the people's war.



(Realismus) "All Hollows Ambush"

"All Hollows Ambush"



October 29 1955,
A day before All Hollows day.

It was a dark cold night when I, along with my comrades, were hastingly preparing for our journey based on our destination. As well as we've been reacted after a message telling us that an approaching enemy was coming near the encampment.

We hastingly packed our things, prepared our weapon and marched ahead in the middle of the night, with the stars as its guide, we walked on listening to the sounds of the wisping wind and of the quacking geckoes, dogs and cicadas chirping in the forest, walking on a long mile until we head on our destination.

One of my comrades then prepared a glass of milk coming from a pack and served to us as our early breakfast while we started to set up another camp in a new site far from the former one-this time an ambush site as our squad leader told to us.

In fact, this as a second time around in preparing for an ambush. Like the first one, we hoped that it would end up successful: gaining weapons, ammunition, as well as a victory for the revolutionary movement in this mountainous, swarthy land. There we immediately set up trenches, foxholes, while some hid themselves in a maquis-creating a good ambush site that the enemy may unexpect this kind of fate. On the top of the hill opposite we are two comrades acting as a look-out. They give us a warning if the enemy approaches, as they sought vehicles passing on to the road, whether from the nearby village or from the town.

While waiting for the target, I was thinking deeply about the past days, especially the time I joined in the ambush-one of my comrades told me that it would be far from what movies, media presented to us back then, followed by telling me to hid feelings and to keep my eye sharp.

The next day,
We kept on waiting closely until 8:45, as our lookout raised the signal that the enemy convoy was approaching, again, my heart beats faster as I expected, and the squad leader told us to get ready, the enemy continuously approaches until...

"FIRE!"

The voice of our commanding officer shouted the signal and all of us immediately fired directly at the enemy convoy. The enemy unexpectedly met again this kind of act as the rain of bullets coming from their once carried guns killed, wounded amongst their ranks while some of them tried to respond enough through their gunfire. Yet, except for two, who end up wounded, we continuously fire-one of us even fired an RPG to a stubborn APC trying to fire against us and it end up as expected-fired!

I was preparing to put my third magazine in my rifle as the commanding officer ordered us to stop. There we sought enough damage in that convoy. Many of them were dead, some were wounded, one of them acting in surrender with a gun raised on high. Some of us then went down as they collected over the rifles, ammunition, even RPGs and a Mortar, including the materiel on that convoy. The wounded foes were immediately treated by our medics all in accordance to the articles of war and of the Geneva convention, same as the prisoners of war that they should also be treated fairly-unlike their own kind who treated some of us, while captured, badly.

We immediately retreated after the ambush, one of us even set the carriers alight so that it may never be used again as expected. The materiel collected from the ambush has added impetus to our growing army. It certainly increases the confidence of the warrior's ability to destroy the enemy, and it also builds the morale of the people as they trust in the revolution and its ability to defend their interests.

Friday, September 17, 2010

Undesirable Poetries

Undesirable Poetries


Consists of poetry lately been written. Consists of Love poems and Struggle session poems being made during the past few years before being posted in this page. These poems are rather a part of my personal life and my life as a participant in the struggle.



The beauty of struggle is in you


The beauty of yours reminds of the barricades
Of wildflowers blooming over the barren land
Where once gunfire and bombs then explode
Where blood from bodies barren flow

The beauty of yours reminds of the garrisons
Wherein stragglers, comrades amongst us
Trying to resist in every corner
Willing to die than to surrender

The beauty of yours reminds of the red flags
Waving all over the liberated zones
And so are the trenches and the barricades
Being dug by comrades and the rest

All of these I have said to
For the beauty of the struggle is in you


Her beauty remains enchanted
(partly based from Jose Maria Sison's
The forest is still enchanted)


The make-up and the jewelries
Are left away in the wooden chests
The lavishly woven dresses
And the imported accessories
Have lost its lustrous power

The mere beauty of the past ages
Had changed for many years
As the chains once bound a someone's body
End up rot and broke easily
Leaving her alone once more to be free

And yet her beauty remains enchanted
And there's a new tune from her mind
A new magic from a loving face
To be inspired by amongst people to be as friends
To be loved by someone whom both cherished over
As they fought for freedom and to astonish the intruders

The passiveness and of the differences
Had been fade away as it lasts
As the age old disciplines
And of the unfair practises
Have closed its chapters

The differences of the past ages
No longer to be heard and seen again
The words saying "I am taken"
Hath disappeared in the mouths once being spoken
As a new and meaningful love hath risen

And yet her beauty remains enchanted
And there's a new tune from her mind
A new magic from a loving face
To be inspired by amongst people to be as friends
To be loved by someone whom both cherished over
As they fought for freedom and to astonish the intruders


BEAT THE ODDS: An Acrostic

Bucks in their pockets coming from our taxes
Education as a privilege while the rest end up none
Automated elections brought no meaningful change while
Transportation and the like all for profit as we sight

Terrorist state as what the people face
Hysteria against the activists what the administration hath laid
End up carcasses or imprisoned, or withered away

O people! why is this person wanted?
Dealing the rest with carrot and stick or hook or by crook?
Do we need to hear their appeals branded it as "BEAT THE ODDS"
Sounds like hollow to us for the nation remains backward.


Yvette

Yvette...
my beloved

Like a sugar you are
Such sweetness drives me
Crazy as if in the middle of the war

Noticing your Precious looks
That as if like those from the stories
Princesses, Fairies, Succubus
-Anything precious

Your eyes
So seductive and loving
Worthy to be loved

Your body
So supple and nice
Beautifully carved like Venus of long ago

Your skin and appearance
As what I may expect
Like roses blooming in the fields of war

And so is your soul
That made me compelled to create
This one of a kind poem

But then,
Despite noticing anything
I really think that someone deserving would be with you

Somewhat worth better than me
I, a writer would rather think it too different
Likely to prefer someone handy

But then,
Despite my expectations
I made this for at least in a simple act
Trying to make me deservable

We may have met one
Likely to be forgotten
Except I who remembered someone
Whom likely to cherish

Sweet beloved Yvette...

I hope we'll meet again
Seeing you appear grandiose
Of I letting myself to stop writing
As I, myself willing to be with you

I'll be with you Yvette
Yes, we'll remain...



Fallen Hero

(Left wing version of Rahowa's Fallen hero)


I feel the bullets running through my body, piercing my heart and mind
As your battlefield drews its last desperate end
Sensing the painless pain and blood flowing over
Until you fell and left eternally unconscious as dead

Like the past martyrs of long long ago
Another fallen comrade almost tears my will apart
And although we’ve been accustomed to losing what we adore
It is always be unforgettable as your shadow casts out

You are a fallen hero,
You fought for our rights from the start
You are a fallen hero
And your memory remains in my heart

And as what the history said to us
That dying for the people is like the mountains
Recalling the past memories
That the struggle will always be at the finest

And when the fash took your life away
I swore to avenge you comrade, and I promise until this day
I’ll fight on as you would, if you were still here with me
Like the mountains of Sierra Madre as stronger as can be

You are a fallen hero,
You fought for our rights from the start
You are a fallen hero
And your memory remains in my heart

And as I pledge my life to our struggle, to the red flag flying
To the martyrs and oppressed people continuously fighting
To think of all that wasted youth to the countryside nearly makes me cry
But at least you died for the genuine truth, and we all know the reason why

Another victim of this system, like the comrades gone
Created by the fascist scum branding terrorism to the revolution
But we’ve got to keep on fighting, we’ve got to carry on
As the red flag flying on the trenches and the enemies to its oblivion

Although they took your life away, we keep your memory
And in your people, to the society, you’ve earned eternity
So as we stand here at your grave, and because you died to fight the cruel
Creators of the world now say: ”To the revolution we will continue!”

Agbiag! To the fallen heroes, they paid the highest price
Padayon! To the people's warriors, gave their lives in sacrifice
Mabuhay! To the revolution, salute as we fight today
Hail! The fallen heroes, men of honor, men so brave
Hanggang kamatayan, Lumalaban!

Hail! The fallen heroes, men of honor, men so brave
Until death, still fighting!


Avenge Luisita
(Left-wing version of "Avenge Dresen"
by Rahowa)


It was 2004, long time ago for as we know
When the policemen and soldiers, they came from road
They appease the strikers but they kill men and women alive
Many farmers died
Oh tell me why, oh why, I must cry

Again like Mendiola
Like hell as we see ya
The government bragged their CARPER
But the program couldn't get further
As the farmers shout their pleas
And the rest as they see
Land to the tiller as they want to speak

An agreement handed down
They will not kill the strikers down
But the Aquinos were wearing their traitor’s crowns
And as the people watched in vain
Down poured a fiery rain
My heart is filled with pain
It’s such a shame

Ref: Luisita must be avenged
Brethren, we must make amends
Until justice is served, we shall not die
I hear the voice of the peasants cry:
”Avenge Mendiola, hacienda Luisita…”

A terrible holocaust - we must avenge at any cost
Beltran and the rest waged a fight, because the truth is always right
Just hidden out of sight on this night

Don’t tell me lies about the investigations
’Cause I’ve got some news for you
don’t tell me lies known as promises
’Cause to the traitors I ain’t crying over too


Midnight in Diliman
(version of Moscow Nights)


stillness in the field not a rustling sound
shadows still wander till the dawn
darling if you should now how I love the time
Midnight wandrings in Diliman.

Mindnight winds blow over the grassy fields
Stars shining bright over the skies
And a song afar casts a lasting dream
And the songs coming from the heart

Jharelle, look at me, why the downcast eyes
And your lovely head bent so low?
Oh, It's hard to speak, and yet not to speak
Of the longing my heart does know.

I will promise you as the dawn appears
As the darkness ends into light
If you only knew how it's dear to me,
Midnight wandrings in Diliman.


Jha
(a "good" version of Rizza)


As I look upon you
You have a deep sense of beauty
Like Red roses and White lilies
Blooming in an abandoned cemetery

But unlike the other one once I hath said same this
You have a different interpretation
This time I felt as if rising
Whilst my world is in revolution

Your eyes, so enchanting
Reminds of an innocent maiden loving
Your appearance, worth remembering
Reminds of a warrioress from Valhalla coming

And now as I open the gates of darkness
Lend me thy key, thy sacred enchantress
Join with me o maiden, we'll rest the restless
We'll strike them out with dark holiness

Unlike the past beings end up as thy foes
I hope you remain as thy friend most
Till the last drop of blood I ought to sacrifice
For you, for my comrades resisting the forces of freight.

Friday, April 9, 2010

(Fantasia) Paulus and the magic of the Silver necklace

Paulus and the magic of the Silver necklace



It was anything void after years of war and blood, followed by cold and darkness in a once enchanted realm. And most people are quite faced an eternal suffering, a curse as if coming from something they can't explain much, or fully and yet they felt so unexpected.
However,
Something's different would reverse anything from what the people and the entire realm faced through.

It was all started when Paulus Castriota, son of Mihai and Charizza, walked in a dark forest in the middle of the night. Without any light in his hand, Paulus relied upon to the stars and to the shining moon acting as its light, slightly giving off a path.

But then,
As Paulus walked for long, he felt the tireness all over his body until he sought an old cottage in the middle of the woods. There he immediately enter and as he sought some hay, acting as if a bed, he lied over and rested long.

While resting, Paulus heard strange noises, noises of fairies outside, that may likely for him to waken up, but that young hunter ought not to think and instead continue sleeping; but the noises coudn't stop that really pushed him to wake up and went out to search for it.

And Paulus, driven by the noises, went out of the cottage and started to search over the enchanted noises that made him woke up for it. There he walked longer, and despite the stiffness that made his body suffered in pain, and of the tireness that binds over, Paulus searched until...

He found nothing, except for a silver necklace with a strange symbol that, according to him as beautiful to be left from them. And he grabbed it and returned to the cottage where he continued his rest.

Morning.
Paulus woke up and sought anything different inside the cottage he've stayed. Having anything as if like those of a warrior, at first, he thought that it was just a dream, for he entered and looked anything barren; and even surprised as he found that he lied on a silk couch instead of hay wherein he rested. There the young hunter-writer continuously thinking about it, then as he stood up from the silk couch, he even sought the silver necklace gone, and instead lying in the floor, only to be picked off and kept in his pocket.

Paulus then walked a little inside when he found a banquet full of richly made food in it. There he, also hungry, immediately approached the table and ate anything around, from roasted chicken to kvass, Paulus simply felt the enjoyment that at first as if like a dream, only to found that...

While drinking kvass, an old man wearing black dress appeared to him and said:
"Paulus Castriota."
"Me?" Paulus said.
"The bearer of the silver necklace?" The old man asked.
"Yes." Paulus said. "Why?"
Then the old man replied:
"Give the silver necklace to me."
Then Paulus arrogantly replied:
"Why should I gave this to you? I got this from the woods!"
"But then," the old man said. "That silver necklace you are carrying does not mean that it belongs to yours."
"Why?" Paulus said.
And the old man replied:
"That silver necklace belongs to a beautiful maiden who is pure and loved."
"But," Paulus said. "How come I need to give this to someone beautiful and yet I am a mere one? Last time I am being off with my someone then I need to seek another only to be repeated again and again?"
"Don't think of it." The old man said. "For in fact, there's someone who's better to be with you, better than the girls you have met, then separated from you away. And only the silver neclace will be its proof to show who's that person deserving."
Then Paulus asked:
"How about these kind of things around? The food, the luxury, are all of these coming from this silver necklace?"
"Yes." The old man said. "But it will end up lost unless you give that to her."
"But," Paulus said. "Where I will find her in order to give this?"
And the old man disappeared away, leaving him alone again.

After eating, Paulus immediately washed himself and immediately left the place away in response from what the old man said to him. There he, for days, walked through the woods, crossed the mountain ranges and of the rivers in pursuit of seeking the maiden, and in case of getting hungry, he tried to gnaw arrowroots and making porridge out of rice, brought Pti (kind of leaves), Trakuon (water plant), Pralit (water plant), Sleuk Bass, Sao Mao Prey and chili leaves, with snails, crabs, frogs, fish, lizards, grasshoppers, mice and so on, all coming from what he have foraged from the woods to cook. And in drinking, he substituted water for a grass dew.

But as he rose up after a short rest, a pack of wolves appeared from the bushes and cornered him. Paulus was surprised as he sought the pack cornered and started to vent their rage over him, but the young one immediately resisted them through his walking stick and beating every attacking wolf around, but the wolves remained strong as Paulus continuously beating them many times as he could, until they end up wither as pile of bloody flesh or getting fled away. There he immediately packed over and this time went over to his journey.

And as he continue in his journey, Paulus, being desparate in searching, think much in stopping from continue wandering and searching for the maiden, until...
The old man again appeared and said:
"Is there anything wrong Castriota?"
"Me?" Paulus said. "Nothing, I am thinking whether I'll stop or not."
"Its your own choice Castrota." The old man said. "It is your choice whether you want to stop or not. But then, it is eiher you want to be lost or to gain."
"But," Paulus said. "I crossed the mountains, the rivers, eating strange meals and sleeping in the dirt and even suffered from footsore. All of these are in search for the maiden, but you didn't say to me where she is."
Then the old man replied:
"Only a fool who speaks of that Castriota."
"But," Paulus said. "How come you say that my words are foolish, I am just asking!"
Then he took off the necklace from his pocket, offered to the old man and said:
"Here! Take this! I am tired from searching!"
The old man accepted and Paulus left away, but the old man, upon accepting what the young fool, then replied:
"In fact, fate destined you to give this. Most men tried to do so but they end up desparate and discontinue doing it. Castriota, this silver necklace does not possess total magic or anything that can give you instant wealth similar to what you have experienced in the old shack were you once rested; but the silver necklace also possess a special magic coming from the remains of the old Sampo that can affect anything around."
Paulus stopped moving as the old man spoke anything regarding the silver necklace to him, then replied:
"Give me the proof, the evidence that the silver necklace comes from the remains of the sampo. And how come you say that I am the one who ought to give that to her! I am tired of these dreams of promises!"
Then the old man replied:
"Yes! The silver necklace comes from the remains of the sampo, the remains are being reforged, of becoming this, and of intending to be given to a most beautiful concubine of the king, but the necklace before being given to the king, was stolen, then passed on to other successive possessors until it reached by yours."
"But then," Paulus said. "How come it end up by mine? I remember the time hearing strange noises, and I searched it all over until I found that thing out! How come?"
"THou hast you said it." The old man said. "That you, yourself found that necklace."
"But," Paulus said.
"You have anything to say?" The old man said.
Paulus didn't speak at all then the old man replied:
"Then take it."
Then he gave the silver necklace away to Paulus and said:
"I hope you may understand that it is you who destined to give the silver necklace to her."

And months passed,
Paulus, still carrying the silver necklace, feasting in roots and drinking grass dew, continued searching the entire place until...

He found the ruins of an once majestic city, with towers intact whilst others perished, and he went inside, thinking that the maiden who ought to possess the silver necklace would have been living. But then,
as he searched inside, Garre, an evil sorcerer, appeared to him and threateningly said:
"Give me that necklace!"
"No! Never!" Paulus said. "This necklace belongs to the maiden of this realm, and before you get this, kill me first!"
Then the evil sorcerer replied:
"HOw could you!"
And with his staff he attacked him, only to be responded by beating him with his stick, followed by throwing him with a stone. Garre, feeling the pain, then retaliated by attacking him. Paulus tried to resist him by beating, but then Garre, again countered him and this time beating Paulus so many times that the young man felt treamandous pain and yet the silver necklace remained unto him in the pocket of his dress.

And after beating, the evil sorcerer searched the silver necklace by unlothing him one by one until the young man became naked. And as he finally sought the silver necklace in one of the pockets of his dress, Garre felt somewhat amazed and at the same time venting rage on the lying naked body of what he have beaten.

But Paulus, despite the pain swelling around his body as well as blood flowing over the soil, tried to stood up, and with the light glowing upon to him over the darkness, he started facing upward with arms outstretched in an offering manner, and spoke an incantation:
"Forest green and scarlet red
Destroy the filthy evil dread..."
And through his incantation, a shaft of light, as if like the rising sun, coming over the naked Paulus struck and stunned the evil sorcerer Garre as he sought over him despite having the silver necklace in his filthy hand, he even felt the pain over as the silver necklace, reacted by the heavy heat of the rays coming from Paulus turned red hot like a molten lava as he continued carrying it, and despite ever counter incantation being said by Garre against Paulus, his words doomed to fail and Garre met his demise-leaving the silver necklace lying over the clothes of the evil one.

The next day,
As Paulus, still naked and lying after the fight, a maiden, dressed in forest green gown came from the dark and sought him lying, at the same time she sought the silver necklace, in which she got it over and wore in her neck. Paulus then woke after a deep rest and sought the maiden wearing what he ought to give, then said:
"Who are you? Are you the girl who deserved to have the silver necklace?"
"Yes." The maiden said.
Then Paulus immediately covered himself then asked:
"Then who are you if you are the one who deserved that necklace?"
"Me?" The maiden said. "I am Jehla Slimpatica, and you?"
And Paulus announceth himself:
"I am Paulus, Paulus Castriota, son of Mihai and Charizza of Mahadika."
Then Jehla offered her hand to him and said:
"Here, come and join with me."
"Why?" Paulus said.
"Don't worry." Jehla said. "Come and I will show something to you."
And Paulus held over Jehla's hand as the maiden joined him in going through the "darkness."

And as they enter darkness over the ruined town, Paulus felt somewhat the warm hand of Jehla as if like the early rays of sunshine, then asked:
"Jehla, where are we going?"
"Don't worry," Jehla said. "We're near the place."
Then the two stopped and Jehla sought over the carved symbol similar to the necklace, acting as its lock that she pressed it over using the necklace she've wore. There light flashed over the entire place that Paulus made him amazed, then asked:
"What is this? And why is it all light flashed over the entire ruined place?"
"Paulus," Jehla said. "This entire place was the once proud town before the evil barbarians raided and destroyed it. And in fact, I am one of the survivors living in this place, gnawing on arrow-roots and drinking grass dew as if like water."
"Sounds similar to me." Paulus said.
"And for sure the old man told you that the necklace I wore comes from the remains of the Sampo?" Jehla said. "Yes, but there are some things that are also coming from the Sampo. Like the trident and of the sword the late king Narai used and of the armor Khaeng wore, all of them are coming from the metal Ilmarinen made thousands of years ago before we're born."
"But," Paulus said. "Why not give it all and instead recreate the sampo? For sure all of us faced fear, hunger, thirst, death, anything around us, of famine, tragedy, anything disastrous all of our lives. The old told us about it, and yet out of them we didn't melt and started to remake from it?"
Jehla, upon hearing what the young one said, then replied:
"Fate hath destined the Sampo to be destroyed as Louhi, in reply, pursues them and combats the proud VäinämÜinen. In the struggle, Louhi is vanquished by the proud, but the Sampo, carried over by the evil Louhi end up destroyed."
Then Paulus replied:
"And if it end up destroyed and its remains end up as artifacts of war or power, it is also destined to be destroyed, and instead to be created as instruments of peace, of prosperity, of love that we have wanted for us. For sure the heavens, especially our ancestors like the great Ilmarinen and VäinämÜinen wanted prosperity, so why not these things coming from the Sampo be brought back to its origins? Of being the sampo itself?"
Jehla couldn't speak as what Paulus told to her, then Paulus added:
"And through the sampo itself may give rebirth to this once barren realm, for I will reverse the fate what the Sampo ended."

And thus,
Paulus,with optimism in reviving the Sampo through its remains that end up as weapons of death, immediately carried over to the furnace wherein molten mountain ores from the snow capped mountains and its treameandous volcanic-like heat melted over it. There he tried much in recreating it, but...

As he sought Jehla approaching him and carrying the silver necklace, Paulus stopped her and said:
"Why are you going to the furnace?"
"I just wanted to help you revive the Sampo." Jehla said.
"But," Paulus said. "By throwing off the silver necklace?"
And Jehla replied:
"Yes, and I know you will get happy in reviving the sampo by having the remains bring back."
"But," Paulus said. "I notice that the silver necklace seemed sentimental to you."
"No need to speak for it." Jehla said. "For in fact, I even notice that you are trying to do your best in reviving it, so perhaps I need to give it to you and have it melt away along with the remains in the furnace."
But Paulus refrained her from doing it and said:
"That remain perhaps is intended for you Jehla. And instead I am contented in creating every feature as long as every remain unites with another ore."
And he hath wore over the silver necklace into Jehla's neck.

And after reviving the Sampo, the spirit of Garre appeared to him, this time stronger, and said:
"Oh! Seems that the young fool hath done something! And oh! With beautiful maiden joining with him!"
"This is none of your business Garre." Paulus said. "And this Sampo is not intended for you!"
"But then," Garre said. "I, being the descendant of Louhi intended to retrieve it from you Castriota!"
And Jehla immediately respond to him:
"Never!"
Then Garre, reacted by what the two did to him, then replied:
"If that's the case, then I will destroy it!"
And he immediately attacked the two, this time carrying a scythe, while Paulus carried a hammer and Jehla with a Sickle. There Paulus, tried to defend himself while Jehla raised off her sickle and slashed Garre's shoulder fatally as she could, Garre, feeling the pain, retaliated by swaying Jehla over and pointing back against his arch-enemy.

But then,
Paulus immediately respond by raising off his hammer, still red hot then trying to maul the ressurected Garre as he could while Jehla, immediately rose after being swayed over, then approached and joined with the revenging Paulus in beating Garre out. But, with his last breath, Garre tried much in defending himself from the two, then comes back with a slash towards Paulus using his scythe-giving another mortal wound against him.

Paulus, again felt a fatal pain as blood flow over from his wound and yet he, with the sickle wielding Jehla continued offending the evil Garre. And with darkness again binding over the entire realm, storms raged over and over since Paulus and Jehla avengingly beating the foe, giving off his strength and exceeding its limits. And as they continue beating over, and Garre feeling defeat and having a battered body, tried much in giving another slash and thrust to Paulus-only to end up given a fatal blow by the avenging bloody hammer of Paulus Castriota.

Garre couldn't resist as Paulus and Jehla joined together in beating him, as the hammer and sickle gave off its strength until he, battered, gave off its breathm cursing the two:
"Scum!"
And he perished away.

After destroying the evil Garre, the old man again appeared to him and said:
"Seems that you have reversed fate Castriota."
"Yes," Paulus said. "And why?"
"For you tried so hard in creating the great Ilmarinen made past ago."
"Yes," Paulus said. "For I am sick and tired of weapons around, especially to those things, coming from its once remains which I have melted away and revive what Ilmarinen made."
"And who's to carry for it?" The old man said. "Especially its riches?"
Then Paulus eventually gave over the Sampo to the old man, and said:
"Here, take this and have it give prosperity all over the entire realm than to those who are trying to get it for greed. This Sampo what I revived is intended to those who are in need but not to those who ought to get contented and idle because of it."
"I will." The old man said.
Then the old man sought Jehla wearing the necklace what Paulus once carried over, then said:
"I am so happy that you have found the maiden intended to wear over for it."
"Yes." Paulus said. "And perhaps I need not to have any wealth for Jehla gave what the real wealth is."
Then the old man replied:
"I know. For as what I see from you, you are seeking what comes inside, and it yearns for it, and thus that girl whom you are now with is the one who completed what you are yearning for."
And he left in the mist, faded away from the two.

In the end,
As the Sampo give off its riches all over the entire realm, Paulus Castriota and Jehla Slimpatica end up married and lived together ever after.

Saturday, March 13, 2010

KATLEAH: Poems of Liberation

KATLEAH: Poems of Liberation




These set of poems are created out of sympathy for the people as well as the society that I belong. Calling for liberation that in the past many people are fighting for it, as well as genuine social justice towards the creators of our history. It also includes the poem "Litany of Katleah" since it was originally a part of the compilation.

In addition to that, these set of poems are influenced by the styles coming from the first three compilations RIZZA (about the anger), MAFE (of love) and HUZN (melancholy), as well as inspired by the realities that people experienced, specifically the struggles being faced through and dreams of liberation and genuine social justice. Or even out of imagination, of knights wearing armor and fighting with its horde to break the chains of oppression and instead of preserving their lord's abode, I would say that most of the words are likely to be called as subversive, but on the other side, these comes from the sentiment of man as he or she tries to free from the chains and blindfolds being bind through. And so were these poems being made- a sentiment being written.



Katleah

Katliya Zivi!

Well brushed brown hair, white skinned lady, joining in the ranks
Wearing an armor, with sword brandished in her hand
What a lady like the other warriors end amazed
For her name's Katleah, freedom fighter fighting to redeem

Blood of warriors, knights and rebels even Valkyries
Flows in her veins to her beauty that seemed enchanting
But in battles she's quite valiant same as amongst men
Leaving chains from slaves and oppressed rot until opened

From every field, from every town lies the holy hordes
As her horn blown giving her foes fleeing on their abodes
Coming from the darkness comes to light shining and shimmering
Coming from iron, from Katleah and her hordes charging

Blood and Iron, chain mail and fire fused in every field
Same as darkness, thunder, lightning and the shouts being heard
This may the Ragnarok being said by ages and retold?
Now been fulfilled, the final war begins to unfold

Will the oppressed ones joining in her hordes giving foes revenge?
From her horn blown and broken chains leaving foes their stench
This may remembered or may forgotten her life and exploits?
Perhaps someday people will know this is history



Lovely

Staring at your gypsy like eyes
Reminds of the midnight skies
Recalling the happy times
Even we're apart

Likely to hear your sweetest voice
Likely to feel your touch that flows
That makes me happy and thus makes free
To a lady I call her Lovely

Well brushed hair enchanting looks
Like a nymph in a story book
Makes me inspired with happiness
Makes me rising from sadness

And thus in every pencil or a quill
Gives life to an endless work
All because of you Oh Lovely,
A flower of the protracted struggle.


Izabelle

Red roses blooming in the fields of struggle
Picked by the maiden whom I remember most
As she walk forth to the way where my comrades
Marching and staying in trenches and the foxholes
Fighting the foe back then many years ago

Just like a young child as what others think of her
The girl what others called her as Re-Belle,
Oh Izabelle you are the Rose of the battle
Whose color is deep red the color of spilled blood

Just like the old past when the world is in distress
Likely to be seen in your recalling eyes
List'ning to stories of knights along with peasants
Same as the stories spoken by the partisans
Fighting the foe back then many years ago

Just like a young child as what others think of her
The girl what others called her as Re-Belle,
Oh Izabelle you are the Rose of the battle
Whose color is deep red the color of spilled blood

Staring the sunset and the evening's beginning
Thus you are thinking the ones admired most
Smelling the scent of the fragrance of the roses
Makes you to rise and to join the suff'ring masses
Fighting the foe back then many years ago

Just like a young child as what others think of her
The girl what others called her as Re-Belle,
Oh Izabelle you are the Rose of the battle
Whose color is deep red the color of spilled blood



Call of the People's War

An answer to this system: PEOPLE'S WAR!

Rotten trees, rotten roots
Rotten all over or even its fruits
Despite having new leaves the disease makes them rust
Makes them rust, makes them rot

Same as the society where the system remains the same
As the past continues to creep being dictated so it seems
The people thinking free end chained as they end deceived
By the authorities around whose their word as decree

Comprador-bourgeoisie, Landlord-CEO
Staying on their offices where their profits grow
Workers, farmers, Petty-B's
National Bourgeoisies scramble for few

Is this the system that will forever last
A system created from centuries past
Despite our freedom created calling sham
Despite the laws we obeyed or calling it spam

Different presidents, different senators,
Different congressmen, different mayors
Being voted as leaders, chosen by people
Or rather handpicked by the few, picked by the compradors?

Same as our economy where anything is cash crop
Our rice is so expensive so why we angry not
And so in the commodity like water and electricity
Growing expensively, growing to end up cut?

And so is our culture where anything enforced us
For they forced us to flow whatever deep or where it goes
Not knowing where is its end, nearly forgetting who are we
Noticing that we are in chains, brains washed in the TV

As well as the military and what we have seen
Acting as security guards of the few society
Calling as soldiers, servants of our people
But why are they acting like paramilitary?

Anything around us are those who destroyed us
Destroying nationalism, of popular sovereignty
Replacing with globalization, of their own democracy
Being drugged by the ideas of the oligarchy!

And so are the sounds of the music we hear
Near and far, all over that tries us to fear
AS we being chained all over in our bodies
Same as our mindsets virtually washed off for years!

We can't withstand this pain created for many years
As we resist this challenge despite doubt and fear
For this system is rotten and there is a solution
And the answer to this system: PEOPLE'S WAR!



March of the oppressed masses
(Made using the melody of the song "White Army, Black Baron",
also known as "Workers of Vienna")

Comprador-Landlords hate the masses
Turning a state in a debt and mess
But from the mountains to squatters we'll see
The People's Army brings victory

So masses hold your ranks
Stand fast and steady
For struggle raise your rifles strong
Towards Manila,
Towards our freedom
Get ready for the last great fight

The bureaucrats hate the ways masses stand
In every urban or rural land
But the oppressed ones will end up in arms
Whether the placard or by the gun

The horns of war are raised
Blowing the people's war
An uprising of masses strong
United under
The blood red banner
Get ready for the last great fight

We'll hear the rattling of guns in the fields
Same with the beat of the truncheons in streets
But as the farmers and workers unite
Creating an army to counter the "right"

Encircling their strongholds
Repelling their own fold
Destroying chains of centuries-old
Reviving freedom
With revolution
Get ready for the last great fight

Forward now comrades march, march ahead
Towards Manila as our last stand
Carrying the weapon in our blood stained hand
Swearing to live and die in this land

We shall scare the oppressors
Both here and from abroad
From farm to town, slum to city
Carrying the weapons
Of revolution
Get ready for the last great fight

United front of the masses shall see
Millions strong makes them hard to rip
We'll flood the cities and rip off their rights
By the oppressed ones with all their might

With the party as guide
People's army as might
The front shal't join us in the fight
United under
The blood red banner
Get ready for the last great fight

So masses hold your ranks
Stand fast and steady
For struggle raise your rifles strong
Towards Manila,
Towards our freedom
Get ready for the last great fight

Towards Manila,
Towards our freedom
Get ready for the last great fight




Our flag

I

I want to see my banner
With its top is color red
For that is the color of struggle
Of the masses with blood bled

I want to see my banner
And not to say it calls for war
For red signifies the people
Who fought for a land just

We shalt hear no reaction
Who calls this intention bad
For the masses has the reason
To defend this oppressed land

And thus we'll raise the banner
With its top is color red
Recalling our martyred dead

II

I want to see my banner
With its top is color red
It does not mean its a coup d' etat
Or other fiasco led

I want to see my banner
With its top is color red
For that its means the masses
Dwelling in a water centered land

We shalt hear no reaction
Who calls this intention bad
For the masses has the reason
To defend this oppressed land

And thus we'll raise the banner
With its top is color red
Recalling our martyred dead

III

I want to see my banner
With its top is color red
Being flown with the red flags
In every corner of the land

I want to see my banner
With its top is color red
For our ideas never die
And all will understand

We shalt hear no reaction
Who calls this intention bad
For the masses has the reason
To defend this oppressed land

And thus we'll raise the banner
With its top is color red
Recalling our martyred dead




Na Juris!
(Made using the melody of the old Yugoslav song "Na Juris",
meaning "Charge")

Na Juris! Na Juris! Na Juris!
Advance! Forward the revolution
Destroy and repel the reaction
From field to the city
Rip off the old glory
Na Juris ohej partisan
March forward towards our freedom!

Na Juris! Na Juris! Na Juris!
Swarm like the fishes in waters
Of masses, oppressed ones and others
Repelling the fascists
Destroying the Racists
Na Juris ohej partisan
March forward towards our freedom!

Na Juris! Na Juris! Na Juris!
We shalt rebuild our country
We shalt restore its real glory
Proletariat's vision
Is Partisan's mission
Na Juris ohej partisan
March forward towards our freedom!



Kings of the Trigger

Many months, many years
Justice is the wish and the people's will
Justice against the long term oppression
Coming from the oppressors, and the unjust

"Kings of the trigger" as what we called them
Ready to trigger as fast as lightning
Every oppressors cannot escape
As their skins end up penetrated by the bullets

"Working class defenders" as what we called them
And the mission they got is "to defend the working class"
Oppressed sectors, seeking real freedom
Only to be redeemed by the "Kings of the trigger"

Every wrongdoing always bend
As the "Kings of the trigger awaits them to end



A partisan's paean

I always wanted to become a Partisan
Defending the entire working class
And contributing to a new society
Starting in this forsaken land

The partisan's mission is to change
Creating a just and free society
A principled objective
That involves our lives as our price

Knowing the society as totally oppressed
Semi-feudal, Semi-colonial as what they expect
And in every solution they agreed and set
People's war as their answer and will never forget

And marching to the mountains
Marching to the fields
Fighting against every oppressors
For the oppressed to be redeemed

Same as in the cities
Using voices not arms
Calling for changes
In midst of the crisis

Arousing the people and so is organizing
Then mobilizing them all over the community
Disseminating the truth, redeeming everybody
Punishing the oppressed all over the country

From the mountains to the cities
From the terrain to the sea
There will always be partisans
Fighting until this nation redeemed!



Litany of Katleah

She is the girl, and her name is Katleah
She is the girl, the female partisan
She is the girl, whose music is the struggle
She is the girl, whose instrument is her gun

Hej! Katliye! fire the gun partisane!^
Hej! Katliye! fire the gun partisane!
Hej! Katliye! fire the gun partisane!
Hej! Katliye! fire the gun partisane!

She is the girl-descendant of crusaders
She is the girl-the seat of st. Aquinas*
She is the girl-the sword of the oppressed ones
She is the girl-Of million blows and thrice strikes

Hej! Katliye! fire the gun partisane!
Hej! Katliye! fire the gun partisane!
Hej! Katliye! fire the gun partisane!
Hej! Katliye! fire the gun partisane!

She is the girl, whose blood from her sword flowing
She is the girl, whose rifle kept on firing
She is the girl, whose banner is red flying
She is the girl, a woman worth remembr'ing

Hej! Katliye! fire the gun partisane!
Hej! Katliye! fire the gun partisane!
Hej! Katliye! fire the gun partisane!
Hej! Katliye! fire the gun partisane!

Hej! Katliye! fire the gun partisane!
Hej! Katliye! fire the gun partisane!
Hej! Katliye! fire the gun partisane!
Hej! Katliye! fire the gun partisane!



Litany of Katleah (another version

Because of Katleah and a flask of vodka,
I and my men will march towards Manila
Will burn the enemy's outposts and checkpoints
Two or three that enemies feel their loss

Hej! Katliye! fire the gun partisane!
Hej! Katliye! fire the gun partisane!
Hej! Katliye! fire the gun partisane!
Hej! Katliye! fire the gun partisane!

Beacause of Katleah and a flask of vodka
I and my men will march towards Manila
Oh! Kamarad remember our objective
Saving the people and give our foes Justice

Hej! Katliye! fire the gun partisane!
Hej! Katliye! fire the gun partisane!
Hej! Katliye! fire the gun partisane!
Hej! Katliye! fire the gun partisane!



Katliye Zivi!
("Katleah lives" in croatian)

Katleah lives inside our hearts,
For our struggle lives undone;
Recalling her past, adventures and exploits,
Recalling her past, of redemption of truth,
That every book written with love.

We will always remember her,
and thus she will live;
In our hearts, our minds and spirits whole,
For she redeemed us from our enemies,
In every killing spree.

Forever in our hearts she will always live,
A lasting memory in life's history;
That a maiden clad in armor,
And her sword raised in valor,
Leading us oppressed to victory.

And to say "Katliye Zivi!"



Hymn of the Democratic Youth of the World
(English version, based on the song made by Novikov)

Children of different peoples
We are dream of lasting peace
But in every distress
We are willing to fight as they pleased
In every country and nation
With different race, creed, religion
Coming together, in common purpose
Leading towards freedom

Let the songs of friendship of children resound
Let resound, let resound
Let our voices of our struggles sing aloud
Let aloud, let aloud
We, children are,
We are united with a common goal
Let the songs and voices of of children resound
Hand in hand, shout as one

Recalling our past struggles
Lead by masses of ages old
Despite of different blood flows
Unity is our lasting goal
From faces happiness glowing
Reminds of new era rising
"We are the future" This what the old says
Therefore we will fulfill

Let the songs of friendship of children resound
Let resound, let resound
Let our voices of our struggles sing aloud
Let aloud, let aloud
We, children are,
We are united with a common goal
Let the songs and voices of of children resound
Hand in hand, shout as one

All despite our youngness
We all swore our unbroken oaths
We will raised our banners
We'll confront the reaction as foes
Forcing our peace to its deep grave
That altogether we must save
Let's rise together, hold hands each other
Against the tide of war

Let the songs of friendship of children resound
Let resound, let resound
Let our voices of our struggles sing aloud
Let aloud, let aloud
We, children are,
We are united with a common goal
Let the songs and voices of of children resound
Hand in hand, shout as one




To Ayala we're marching
(Using the German song Dem Morgenrot entgegen)

To Ayala* we're marching
Marching in hand in hand
With red flags in staffs waving
And Placards in our hand

We'll march until we reach and meet
The other ones in another street
And sing the songs of struggle
In a new modern beat

We will meet the policemen
With truncheons in their hands
We are ready to beaten
But not to understand

The words that oppressors speaks
For they hate us for this event we meet
We are ready to beaten
And we'll reply with fists

We'll see the nice made buildings
Made by the calloused hands
Of workers still left unpaid
And more sweat in their backs

They are marching amongst us
Just like the strikes of back then
And shout along with others
"No to that damned Con Ass!"***

Perhaps the evil midget**
Is watching that event
Then she'll reply with killings
And Forced disappearances

Perhaps the people now see
And thus they will now reply
Either with fist or by gun
Fighting for our freedom!

*or Mendiola, same as the title as "To Mendiola we're marching"
**or "Perhaps the damned reaction", then "they" on the "she" part
***or "Gave us what is for us!"

HUZN:Poems of Melancholy

HUZN:Poems of Melancholy




These collection of poems, again is more like melancholic, out of sorrow to create these works as well as out of experiences being made and passed through. In fact, like the first two collections (Rizza and Mafe), these poems bear also defiance and a need to rise up. Melancholy in a sense that I am too attached to the realm that was and is likely to destroy me and I trying to be free; passion perhaps it can be as a symptom of this kind of melancholia as what the Arab doctor Al-Kindi said, or in case of Ibn Sina that I diagnosed Ḽuzn (melancholia) in a lovesick man if his pulse increased drastically when the name of the girl he loved was spoken (oh god!).

Well...
I am trying to recover, simply by the use of poetry.


Limbo

I am not from hell
I am not from heaven
My life now unknown
My mind is broken
A shattered dream
Now found and fused
As my soul now sent
To a place called limbo

My soul is now in limbo
My soul is now unknown
The victims forgotten
In limbo now on
My soul is now in limbo
My life is in there
Where my life is mended
By reason and fate

Bound by faith
Leading to an unknown fate
Whose their sound is somewhat happiness
But their sould bound for the way
From the day baptized in water
From the day baptized in fire
A desciple of heathen, a desciple of god
Will set the scripture virtually now

My soul is now in limbo
Where freedom is known
The wisdom of the centuries
Where left and undone
My soul is now in limbo
My life is in there
Where my life is mended
By reason and fate

When I play upon the music
I felt so with doubt
The song of virtual darkness
Out of pain, out of fault
As the dance of nataraja
Now sets upon to me
The door of limbo opens
Even baptized like me

My soul is now in limbo
Where my saddness flows
No god nor even devil
Ever set foot or saw
My soul is now in limbo
My life is in there
Where my life is mended
By reason and fate


The song of Charmel in response to Paul's death

Justice for the man, whom dwellth in the prison cell
For his cause is trason whom never made or prepared
His writings not bad for him
His criticisms are bit for us
But some considered wrong
While others called it right

Justice for the man, whom dwellth in the prison cell
Our justice for him will be until his death
And so is his love for us
As his pen laid to rest
A the lights then turned off
And left his room will end in gloom

Our memories will fade
Like dead leaves on the pathway
If he dies we'll die for him
For death's the beginning

Someday the authorities
Will bow unto him
His ideas set free
Unlike he's then living

Justice for him, even he's dead today
But for us he's not dead
He lives with berglend
Till the end!



Tis! the scriptor dies!
(aka: The Writer’s Requiem)

Tis! the scriptor dies!
cut off by hate but not his faith
Accomplished is his sacrifice
For his written work is done

The pen laid in him alone
The black ink had spilled and flowed
The waxing moon is risen on
and his revenging days now roam.

The days of Death and mourn is set
and all may live through him set free
his fiends lost their mortal pow’r
Tis destroyed by infamy.



A Writer’s Hope

My hope is built on nothing less
than my own blood and my own pen
I dare not trust my unknown fame
but Inspired me by love and pain.

Through you o Endless love I bow
and other ones have broken vow
and other ones have broken vow

When midnight veils its lovely face
like my love with unchanging grace
through my own pen and paper lies
and life’s written by fate and time

Through you o Endless love I bow
and other ones have broken vow
and other ones have broken vow





Pen

The in, like blood flows
In every part of paper
That paper, acts like flesh
In our bodies tender
The idea would act as its soul
Annd its words its mind
For the one who hath made is human
And therefore he created his written own


Your heart will burn my soul

"Adios, mujer del noche
Adios, rosa roja en la pluma"

The symphony of fate goes as the song plays
Playing their instruments suitable
As melodies release through
And it passes though my mind and soul
And penetrates them all
That leads me to some temporary distress
That comes before you

Oh!
You can't descend from the abyss like satan once do
You can't come from heaven like the lord who remain through
You lady from the nights, in darkness you came appeared
With your heart burning my soul totally
A written symphonic mythology
That becomes a reality
Written by you for me

As the sound of music continues as you came
You, like a symphony, would transform into a fairy
And enter my realm to free
Your heart, with outmost heartbeat
Would set my body free
And my soul burning with our glee
And I screaming as I see
You embracing me


Chloe
(for Chloe Dauden)

Chloe was like a barbie doll when I last saw her
And she looks so happy as she with her boyfriend together
But her boyfriend was so sad, emotional and in grief
While Chloe wanted him happy- a doll for a freak

Chloe was so chubby sexy when I saw her
She's a preppy, preppy like the other girls before her
And so the other boys keep staring and see
That Chloe today was not so glee
For her boyfriend was dead, hanging in an oak tree

Chloe turned different as her boyfriend end dead
She became emo? OH GOD!
I was so shocked when again I stare at her
Even her parents, friends, strangers alike
That Chloe turned emo walking on the roadside

Her eyes end black and red as I saw Chloe
Different from her old pink and white
Poor Chloe I just wanted to make her happy
I'll make her scream to the music of this song



The sound of the Kos

When I hear the sound of the Kos
In the Mehterhane last night
I feel the tension as my blood flows
Directly on my heart on time
With the sound of Zurna piping
And Davul, Nakare beating
With the trumpets continously blowing
And so our voices wailing

When I hear the sound of the Kos
We join the chant and sing
I scream as the beat laid
Out of tension in my heart bring
As if destruction now come
With the hearts of war running
And so the sound of the Kos
Its melody sets fire to me

As we wail the song and I scream
The sound of the Mehterhane blazes
The melodies of our sound fuses
Like blood and powder raised
And so is the fire comes
From the beat of the giant Kos
Like the fire of the cannon gun
Set to the enemy at once

But the song we've sing is not joyful
For a requiem is what er've sung
The melodies of the Meherhane
Is such joyful as it was
As we've reached our guitars and play
And so I will scream and sing
Along with the Kos still throttling
For it adds fire to me

With a shot of nice absinthe
And rhum cola as we please
We sing the song of madness
And of sadness out of hearts to ease
With our melodies we have made
And the Mehterhane we have made
Starting with the sound of the Kos
It leads us to our cause

With tension and swelling of our hearts
And blood flowing in our veins apart
The music continue playing
With the chants and songs we start
Starting with the sound of the Kos
And the instruments playing
Our requiem will be voiced on
Turns into the sound of fire and cause upon


Ode to the Red Warriors

"Carpe diem! delenda est Tirannia!"

Legions of faith, driven by fate
Revenge is their cause to set on
Scarlet as color, and so is dark black
Set fourth the old Ascension

Marching over the silver moon
Footsteps in the Winter gloom
Warriors red as Righteous Cause
with legacy written in the stars

Men then stayed in same cold night
waiting for such ascension
While others fallen in every mile
Destined for such Redemption

Then Advance fourth! Death came soon
Out of enemies casting doom
Then the battle fourth as the old Predict last noon:
The cult of holy war has brought!
Death will came and step on path fourth!

Blood of red Warriors spilled within
over path and over green
Corpses of red warriors scattered within
as angels of death stepped in
Shrieking winds of Red warrior's souls
someday born again on midnight call
as Death rides his black stallion
At the fore of the lost battalion
As Winter and fire casts hate
An epoch of redemption



The Oath

I hereby swore to god almighty
one in holy trinity
To my comrades as witness be
My faithful allegiance to them
sole and indivisible
forevermore

I swore that I'll not use my power entrusted
For Oppression wanted
I swore only to defend
Till the last tear of blood flows
and end up as carcass

I swore to my comrades, my friends, and my family
That someday hope will fullfill
I swear that I'll give up my life
As a sacrifice to thy sacred cause
and honor wanted to have

And so is my last breath
That I shall hate the Enemy
Who molested my community
And includes me

And through your call
I came upon to join in
Even life is my money
and so is my blood to be

And end up as Martyrs
Unknown and missing as I
Considered as Legendary figures
Written by Fate and History

And so this my solemn Oath
I am bound to be
DEATH for DEATH
BLOOD for BLOOD!

and so it ends
and so help me god
through the compassion of his son!

AMEN



"Oh Where are the days"

Oh where are the days
How did we spend them?
They've gone in a twinkling of an eye
How sweet is their memory

My god is my destination
My god is my goal
Written in the scriptures
Foretold to all
My god is my destination
My god is my goal

As the crusader thy announceth
Thy famous sacred call
Our people fighting fourth
Did not renounce his religion
As they end up sold
their souls into the lord

Thy lord who lead us
Who terrorizes thy enemy
Who cast them to hell fire
And thus end their journey
Our strength is his faith
And our weapon is gun brandished

If they call me a heretic
I say that this is an honor
Our terrorism is blessed, a divine decree
If they call me a bandit
Thus some call me a freedom fighter
Our terrorism is blessed, a divine decree

We destroyed thy enemy
With prayers and bullets
Out of such theology
Of freedom from sadness
Turning their fortresses
Into pile of rubble

Oh where are the days
How did we spend them?
They've gone in a twinkling of an eye
How sweet is their memory


For Irgun Zvai Leumi

What is dearer to me in yerushalayim
As it shook its earth and we raise its stones
You will not be saved o thy foe
Thy Apocalypse hath just begun
Trying to resist to end in the hell fire
thy Apocalypse hath just begun

From the volcanoes of Eretz Israel's stones
As you are the target of my eyes
As I will even willingly fall as a martyr
Likely to Beatify, Canonize as a saint
And you will end on the hell fire
thus be prepared for it


We will strike

Many times defeat seldom win
End up in slumber,set fourth within
but someday we will set revenge upon from it
after the times we end up beat

The tracks today have been set right
from the grounds of darkness and reap the light
we will set the wrath coming from our past
we will strike the fire-this will be our last!

The hearts of every men, comrades and alike
now bursting into fear, as they hear the news last night
They saidth through that they’ve been beaten,for others called it right
-But to us Never it called as Right-and we will strike

The tracks today have been set right
from the grounds of darkness and reap the light
we will set the wrath coming from our past
we will strike the fire-this will be our last!

Walking on the street, in every way
Looking at the statue of the man as if crucified and cry
But on his tears the flames from his heart shook
As if like molten steel making a hook

The tracks today have been set right
from the grounds of darkness and reap the light
we will set the wrath coming from our past
we will strike the fire-this will be our last!

The hearts of every men, comrades and alike
now bursting into fear, as they hear the news last night
They saidth through that they’ve been beaten,for others called it right
-But to us Never it called as Right-and we will strike

The tracks today have been set right
from the grounds of darkness and reap the light
we will set the wrath coming from our past
we will strike the fire-this will be our last!

we will strike the fire-this will be our last!



"the march of liberation"

in dark days of the morning
the army now marching in
with our guns now pointed
unto the enemy

singing the songs of the old
alongside the new hymns
with the pleasant music
as we march to the fields

o freedom we are coming
we will cry we will scream
for we prepared to die in
in fields full of filth.

O almighty set it free
set fourth our blessing
and the damed may get cursed in
to befell and killed.

tis the song of the fallen
they'll hear the song we've singing
the music of the struggle
with requiems and of fire

with history as our wittiness
now records our fight
more dead wounded and missing
and names disapeared from our places

rise up the host of freedom
from oppressor to the oppressed
rise up the guns and fire in
to the wrath of enemy's

let them die flee in squalor
for death is approaching them
let revenge of the fallen
set now upon to them

to martyrs to the fallen
to the dead we thing this song
may their grave be remembered
and to those lost may found

let our cries be disappear
and peace may come in
the darkness will fade away
and so is our pain