villiamor calventas

villiamor calventas Poems

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when i was young an elementary grade child.. One day in my life Life is not a dream is it real and trials, pains are the name of the game. Dawn; The rooster crows. It is 3: 00 am. I had to do my bedroll the mat, rush to the kitchen, hurriedly took a kettle pour water and boil it, Later and sip a mug of coffee then off to the fields..the carabaos are crying they had to go to the pasture and graze some green and brown grasses. It is a new day. These had been a daily routine for me at the age of nine and onward. I had learned to love the smell of the damp earth and the feeling of the sweet breeze at dawn. I had seen the beauty of the stars at the same moment as they slowly fade away for the coming of the sun and took the world with him flooded it with his golden rays and then the dewdrops on leaves of treetops gracefully vanish to thin air. My day had just begun.. Slowly gradually i command the carabao and we waded on the wet fields till it is ready for planting rice..Hmm i was one of a kind i just sang “Planting rice is a lots of fun” with that note i finished planting parcels and parcels of fields without actually noticing how i made it in daylight till i felt the hotness of the sun on my back clothe only with thin shirt it is time for home with the hope that i could eat well and then take a nap and be back to finish a goal that never ends. Midday... The “dulang” was decorated with fried rice the leftover i had in the morning.. I had no business to complain at least i had something to eat and i loved fried rice and i took a jar of salted fish mix it with the rice and some spoonful of sugar and i know i am feds enough no doubt about that. I said it is better this way than just having noting at all. I just thought someday all these will be through that is part of my wildest imagination and dreams. A dream of a lost child in the wilderness of work is what i am made of. Afternoon escapades... Thirty minutes past twelve..glance at the scorching sun as if asking him to be a little colder but his majesty just stare at me with blank eye..i slowly retrace my steps a while ago and with head bow down off to filed once again. For a while i thought of playing for a while but the moment i saw my unfinished work i am resigned to the thought well this is also play. Play with rice paddies, jump over them, plant..plant..plant until the job is done. Anyway the birds are chirping nearby and the dragonflies fleets here and there..i loved to watch them sometimes i wanted to catch them and i only manage to catch i few. Whew what a unique way of spending the time that should be foolishness of the young and the beauty of a childhood lost in the forest of yesteryears. Dusk... Hmm sun creeps slowly at the bottom of that majestic mountain..my carabaos are waiting for a ride down to summer’s dream..up to the memory lane. Yeah i love the dusk for it is a time for me to share moments with the cattle drive them to the white sparkling water of the river or to the brook depending on where i let them graze on marsh grasslands. I always enjoy the feeling of riding on carabaoo’s back imagining i was a cowboy in search of a lady in distress. Sometimes i fall back and my dreams and imaginations turn to naught i am back to reality that i am a man not a child of nine. The world is never for me a bed of roses but a world of work and jobs. Yet those days turn me to be what i am now a man with the dreams and beauty of a child’s thoughts, dreams and emotions. That is why am just unique and just one here on and on.. Twilight.. I could not trace the lines on my palm by now. Yet i am still on carabao’s back slowly trotting for home. On time i would reach the place under the pomelo trees fixed the cattle on their sheds, talk to them for a while as if they are my friends and i know that we understand each other that even they look at me with eyes that seems not to see i believe they understood the sentiments bottled up within the heart of a little child. Sometimes then i sobbed as i felt the harsh hair on their backs and as i shook their horns pat their backs and say good night sleep well tomorrow is a busy day for all of us. Night.. The thousand eyes above look down on the houses beyond and i could hear shouts of joy as the other children made circles and voted what game they had to play. Will it be patintero? Or better hide and seek, or rather catch me if you can.. I covered my ears with my trembling hands i hate to hear those shouts they only remind me of how weak i am after the day’s jobs. The time is too precious for me to spend for child’s play i had to sleep to rest for tomorrow is but another busy day. I do not need the twinkle of the stars to wink at me what i wish is the embrace of the mat and the comfort of the pillow and the music from the night owl to lull me to sleep and then i know i will be in dreamland of the day’s to come where i am also a child who could spend his days on imagining under trees, stroll on sands not this child of clay wearing tattered shorts and torn shirts having cared not by man but by breeze, and green grasses of the fields. This child of jobs who does not need a play to complete his day, this soul that is being cared by the graces of God above as He had said..Let the child come to me..Or was i a child or a man? Or a man imprisoned on the young physique of a child? That i cannot fathom until this day..The day i learned that is another story. For now i had a night to rest and hope for another day.. I am done...God bless you Jv....10.01.12 this is what transpired when i was in high school High school life happiest? Not again l“ High school life..oh my high school life anong ganda..anong saya...” there goes the song again and every time the students belched out the song i am not happy about it instead there is a feeling of sadness deep within me, from my heart, mind and soul..there are but few memories that would make that stage of my education a memorable one when it comes to pleasures and other forms of relaxation one has to enjoy in a secondary education. Please do not get me wrong. Do not raise an eyebrow just read my story and try to ponder these ideas i had then laugh if you must or cry if you can. That depends on how you look at the situation. Let the memories flood my emotions. I was eighteen, i should be enjoying the life of a teen, joining escapades about giggling girls, attending picnics or spending nights n serenades of ladies but here i am on nervous feet, a trembling heart and my mind was filled with problems. Reason? It was the first day of school way back 1971 and i am a first year student at eighteen.. What a freshman? That is the truth “mi Amore” the truth is harsh but it is the truth.. Imagine that? Before attending classes daily from day one till I graduate.Dawn was never a happy hours for me. It has been routinary that before i ate my breakfast i had to ride on my rickety bike and peddle pandesal to the community that was how I earned my finances for school. Yeah after that i ate breakfast, if not planting rice early then off to school but most of the time i worked on the fields, see that the carabaos are grazing and then off to school i go. Night I had to go to the sea and catch fish with the other fisherman. Hmm “Mi Amore” how about my lessons I carried my notes with me and if the moments permit i kept on reading theme anywhere. That is one of my favourite moments..Moments of joys for i am lost with my self and engrossed in exploring horizons only me had known. I am doing that until now Mi Amore and because of that i emerge as the best of my class from freshman to seniors. Great heavens at the age of 22 i was the first valedictorian my school ever had. Miracle of all miracles..That was my greatest moments and memory all others I had not known. Let me tell you why... One thing so had about that is there are but few old students like me most belong to the younger generation. I was an outcast. Bach then i am a social snob. I do not know how to get along with people. I had spent my days on working odd jobs, talked and friends of bees and birds and my books and magazine. Mi Amore what could i do? If there were no classes i sat down on a corner take my notes and scribbled my ideas. But there is something good about that my BFF until now notice and talked with me. She was with all smiles and we become friends. She gave me pad of papers, ball pens she treated me snacks and almost anything. Until now my BFF Cheryll Rose Calipjo is still there in times of my distress whatever it is financially or emotionally. She was an angel and she was the best thing that ever happened to me in my high school days. Do not get me wrong MI Amore we had that real friend between us. Maybe she regards me as a manong and as a friend. Each admittedly MI Amore i was among the poorest in my class...i had no father and i am a bread winner. That might be the reason Cheryll became a friend of mine she wanted to help me ease the pain of poverty, to have someone to talk to. (Thanks again BFF) . Ouch do not cry for me.. i had enough tears that kissed the earh for that matter. I survived the pains Mi Amore survived with flying colours more colourful that the rainbow in the clear heavens on a rainy day. We had juniors and Seniors Promenade then sure Mi Amore. Did I enjoy the fun? Nope MI Amore I was afraid to ask for a dance. I do not know how. I can dance with the wind and the breeze during planting and harvesting season but not with beautiful ladies and besides i am ashamed the attires i am wearing were borrowed from someone from somewhere.. What a life Mi Amore.. So what had i done? Seek for a hideaway look toward the sky and count the stars..Search for the Milky Way. I found my enjoyment there not on the sweet and sometimes noisy songs from an old phonograph under the lights coming from an optimus (U know MI Amore those things are now antique today..They do not exist anymore especially the phonograph) On sports Mi Amore? Well i played basketball, volleyball and softball. I am a little good on batted games then. Reason? I regarded the ball as a symbol of my failures, my madness, my frustrations, my pains, and everything that hurts me and i hit it with gusto. For volleyballs i can swat the ball a little, for basketball i played the three and i became a little good about that. Yet mind you after those games i sat and think about my cattles were they being fed so well? Here i am playing and my field is waiting for my hands to care. So i had to run home and check it out. Then and only then i can have peace of mind. Less i forget Mi Amore..How about girls and ladies? Hmm so sorry I never courted anyone I had so many jobs to think about lessons to learn to look at them. I never had any crush; they are totally out of my senses. I was so sure of that. It was a dry maybe but a life full of lessons that i had used to follow my dreams and goals on the journey of life It was that way Mi Amore..Going to sea at night, peddling pandesals at dawn, planting rice before school read notes on free time i spent my days under the sun and of course the rain and then graduation time came.. It was the happiest day in my high school life. Mi Amore spare me a little time for bragging. Please forgive me for that. Why? Miracles of all miracles I was the valedictorian? Imagine a poor boy of 22? Valedictorian but the sad part of it MI Amore i am wearing a borrowed suit except my underwear. So when i delivered my speech which i made out of tears everyone cried, weep for my estate but at least Mi Amore I am happy within I was given judgement by God for in my elementary days I was a victim of poverty and of course of people who look at what you are in the community. That was the reason why i was so happy of that. And i sobbed looked at the people and said. Good day. God bless you. Someday I will come back and offer this simple life to this Alma Mater of mine. That is my high school life Mi Amore.I hope you find it interesting and something to ponder upon in your moments of solitude. God bless I love you al)

The Best Poem Of villiamor calventas

Fragments

days of stress
even the psyche moans
of the existence of nightmares
within the soul
peace of the mind
got tired so so tired
and the sosl cried
but never heard by the ears
long shutted down
by emotions wailing
on the sands of times
and the dove wishes
not to fly on the wilderness
so much pains within
the troubled water
from the river of no return
there was a call for retribution
but the angels would not
care for anything
but wings broken
in the fragments of imagination
of this trouble man
and in madness he tried
to move about in
this world of unknown dreams.

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