Erick Cortez

Erick Cortez Poems

How can we answer the riddle if we are clueless in this life? How can we face the world if our root was shallow? How can we overcome life without a rope? Can we ever beat ourselves? Can we?

In a one woody place, there was a young tree standing and wondering if he can survive the storm coming through, he cried as he knew that he cannot endure such a thing like storm, he knew that storm can break his branches, can scatter all his leaves and maybe put him laid on the ground. He cried for this trial is more than he could do, as his tears falling to the ground he notice the small ants, he watche as the ants carry there foods. They are helping each other, as they work with there colonies extending their mighty strength. Then he said to himself, 'I want to be an ant, I want to be as strong as they carry their future.'
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Brother, sleep with the sins
Sound of silence now it begins
Here where I stand many are buried
Blood were shed fought by hatred.
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How long that I hid
Little flame in my heart
Casting shadows taller than my soul
Sparks a nightmare, poison my spirit.
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There’s a face in a mirror and I thought that I knew him, but his face was masked with wrath that even him couldn’t see his own identity. A phantom in disguise I could tell, only flame of fury lightened his mind and the loneliness keep his heart dim that only tears rule in his eyes. Every nick of time his fighting to stay asleep keeping him alive, keeping him walking at the sharp edge and waiting for someone that could tell him that there’s a heaven, but heaven is just a word for him, for even he is not familiar with it. His rage against his foes burst, keeping him at the shade of vanity.

Then there was a little boy standing at the middle of the rain crying and feeling so helpless. But there was his mother looking at him, waiting of how her son endure the awful rain, endure every dare of trials. But then the child was completely overwhelmed by the rain, he doesn’t survive and lost in the middle of nowhere and have a rendezvous with darkness. And now the child have a sting and a claws having a venom making his surround covered with fears and mourning, only dirge hear in every corner and a great destruction is waiting for every step of him. What a dreadful destiny is waiting for the child.
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At nagising si Haring Araw mula sa nakahihimbing at matinding bangungot. Magulo, malagim at mapanganib, tila ba ‘di malaman kung saan sisimulang iahon ang isang mumunting hiyas na nabaon sa putikan na dati’y kumikinang sa karagatan ng silangan. Isang hiyas na sa kanyang kinang ay naakit ang mga dayuhan dahilan upang ito’y tangkain nakawin at kanilang angkinin, mapalalo…. Mapagkunwari…..

Minsan pa’y may isang ibong pipit na nangarap maging isang agila, ngunit ang agilang kanyang tinitingala na sa kabila ng malakas at matikas na katawan, makisig na pakpak, nasa likod ng matatalim na kukong pandagit nito ang mapagsamantala at nakalilinlang na kamandag, animo’y ahas na mapanukso.
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When silence start to burn
When all hatreds buried rises
You never know how to open your palm
You never know how to smile in tears
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Minsan sa aking mapaglarong isipan ay may mga tanong, ideya at minsan pa nga’y mga bagay na imposibleng mangyari. Ano kaya kung ganito? Paano kaya kung ganyan? Bakit hindi? Mga bagay na lilikot sa sulok ng iyong ulirat at susubukin ang lalim ng ating mapaglarong isipan.
Sa aking pag-iisa, minsan ay dumapo sa aking isipan ang isang tanong na tila mahirap mangyari, pero sa tingin ko naman ay gugustuhin ng karamihan. Ano kaya kung mabibigyan tayo ng pagkakataong isilang na mag-uli? Sa ilang ispirituwal na paniniwala ay posible, sa ilan ay maaaring reinkarnasyon at sa ilan naman ay hindi pupuwde.
Kung mamarapatin at tutal ito ay isang ideya ko lang naman, nais ko na isilang na mag-uli, marahil ang dahilan sa iba’y para maituwid o maiwasan ang mga sitwasyon o mga nangyaring pagkakamali, sa iba nama’y para maranasan uli ang sarap ng buhay at makasama ang mga pinakamamahal, siguro naman sa iba’y makamtan ang mga bagay na ‘di nagawa o naabot. Sa anong dahilan ba ang aking pipiliin kapag ako’y isilang na mag-uli?
Siguro’y lahat ng dahilan ay pipiliin ko, eh kung sakali mang ako’y isilang na mag-uli ay kaya ko namang gawin lahat iyon. Tulad ng isang punong nabuwal ng bagyo na kahit humandusay sa lupa’t maputol ang mga sanga basta may natitirang ugat sa lupa ay muling susupling at magbibigay ng panibagong pag-asa, mamumunga na siyang magpapaalala sa tamis ng bawat pagkakataong mabuhay.
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Sa malawak na lupain baga'y may tamang landas na marapat nating tahakin? Kung ang tamang landas ay matuwid, bakit dito mo pa mababanaag ang sadyang pagsasanga-sanga ng bawat katuwiran na siyang gugulo sa ating isipan. Tunay ngang sa matuwid na landas natin masusumpungan ang kaligtasan at sa baluktot namang daan tayo malilinlang tungo sa ating kapahamakan.
Isang bata na sa mura niyang isipan ay sadlak na sa kahirapan, madumi, maingay, magulo, ganito nahubog ang musmos na bata, sa ganitong kalagayan ay tiyak na kakainin lahat mong lakas at marahan kang ibabaon hanggang sa ikaw ay malunod at maparam ang bawat karampot mong pag-asa, ganyan kang igugupo sa landas na ang tinatahak ay dilim.
Ang bata ay binulag sa kinamulatang landas, ang kanyang paninindigan at paniniwala ay hubog sa anyo ng kanyang landas na tinatahak at ngayon nga'y mas pinatigas pa ang damdamin upang maging manhid sa katuwiran. Papaano pa ngang mapalalambot ang bata upang hubuging muli sa matuwid na landas, may awa pa bang sasagip sa batang bumangis na at ang murang isipa'y bahid na ng karahasan?
Isang araw, ang batang musmos ay nagising sa tagal niyang pagkakahimbing sa dilim, tumangis dahil sa mga panahong siya'y bulag at manhid sa katuwiran at katotohanan. Ang lahat ng tao ay may kabutihang naitatago sa kaibuturan ng kanyang puso, ‘di maitatangging alam natin ang tama at mali, mabuti sa masama. Balutin man ng kadiliman buo nating katawan ay may puwang pa ring liwanag na siyang kukurot sa ating puso't isipan upang tayo'y magbago.
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The Best Poem Of Erick Cortez

Disguise

How can we answer the riddle if we are clueless in this life? How can we face the world if our root was shallow? How can we overcome life without a rope? Can we ever beat ourselves? Can we?

In a one woody place, there was a young tree standing and wondering if he can survive the storm coming through, he cried as he knew that he cannot endure such a thing like storm, he knew that storm can break his branches, can scatter all his leaves and maybe put him laid on the ground. He cried for this trial is more than he could do, as his tears falling to the ground he notice the small ants, he watche as the ants carry there foods. They are helping each other, as they work with there colonies extending their mighty strength. Then he said to himself, 'I want to be an ant, I want to be as strong as they carry their future.'

One morning as he woke up, he notice the birds playing around and jumping over his branches as they sing, then the birds fly to hunt some of their foods. He smiled and said to himself, 'I want to be a bird flying to their very dreams that even the wind couldn’t resist as they fly. They only dance with the wind of trials and pursuing as they reach their goals.' As he watched the birds flew, he noticed the dark clouds seems to carry a heavy rain that could destruct all things that living, then again he said to himself, 'I wish I am you, for I can carry such a heavy rain to water every forest and of every tree, to nourish all the dry lands and to ease thirst, but not to destruct the living.'

Then the wind started to get wild, it seems the storm has come, the rain is bursting that every little drops of rain seems to pierce you enough to make you cry, his leaves scatter and his branches break as he knew from the very start, he couldn’t survive the storm. His trunk laid into the ground and he knew that later he will die. As the morning comes after the storm, he find himself laying on the ground, he cried and said to himself, 'I was one who doesn’t believe in my own strength, that’s why I can’t dig deeper my roots under the ground. All I can do now is to wait until someone finds me, to cut my trunk and burn into the furnace or maybe cut in halves to be a timber.'

One morning as the tree laid to the ground, he noticed the tiny little green leaves on his trunks, again his tears falls to the ground, truly that God gives us hope to stand up again, to learn every lesson that he gave, to be contented, to call upon Him and to thank for every littlest thing that we have. Sooner I stand again and have fruits to share, and to scatter my seed to every people to know the lessons God teaches me….

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