ode to the pirate of Mindanao,
swashbuckler of the south china sea...
he lived by his wit and to stash in his kit
all he had hopes to be.
he was dashing and swarthy a joy at a party.
but beware when he sharpened his pen.
time paid to society through
wanting to leave
a world behind, start new...
little girls in ribbons and bows
had nothing to do with his adult sized woes...
too young, to explain, his distain.
so he battled and collected fame... wealth in his infamous name.
trafficked in guns and the lives of men
who died in battles for gain.
scarred and maimed he descended to bed
in a house built of nipa palm...
sold whiskey on the beach 10 pesos each, for a shot of the liquid sun.
what more does a man, with a war torn head, really need to do?
the women were beautiful but shy
and whiskey flowed from the sky.
one day, it seemed, when the world turned mean
and the voices of his children grew...
the whiskey stopped working, the ghosts kept lurking...
he really had nothing to do.
he got up
he shook it off...
and decided to take a wife...
start a new batch of kids
begin a new life...
one filled with joy
not strife.
but, old ways had become, part of his sin...
old friends had ideas to begin...
politicians and tobaccos,
president Marcos!
now what had he fallen in?
every letter he sent had to be copied and bent
by people all over the world...
so where were these folks
who knew of the hoax,
of all the dirt in the den?
he died last year...!
where were the copies of letters... then?
telling me it was time to come?
time to bury the pirate king?
to fold his arms, remove his ring,
minus one hand....
to kiss and to press his brow?
to tell him daddy, there's nothing to forgive....
i've loved you all the while.
so stash in the saber, put the coins on display,
drink up the last of the rum...
throw up and over, the old Jolly Rodger
his chop and his smokes and his gun....
burn all the papers...
layers upon layers
of tales and history...
the ship has been taken...
his ghost in the mak-in...
my father, the pirate king.
|
This was a very beautiful tribute....I lost my Dad 10 years ago this Nov.....time makes the pain dull...but I still miss him....I know he is with me now....in spirit...in the lives of my daughters...in the air that I breathe.....my heart is full for you at this time....peace and smiles..............petra
And familial interplace and elastic precise__less...ness.
Losing my decisions to be another kind of man...I am
So admiring the vanity of such a gentleman sailor.__Contraband!
Man... He lived by the sword of his blade.
Not cudgled nor hampered by the pampering class,
He made his way across the world.
I can only assume __you admire him so...
What be you, when you have been so thinking...
Could this be the long sword of the pen,
and in memory of this great man__ as well.
Your father __ you say...I believe,
Because you have honestly heartened my haste.
I will shy from being verbose.
Entertained by surprise and a whole new light.
But in vein and honor, and in light of your toast.
I believe your poetry is a delight.
What could be more__than to honor the man.
that took the care and the hope to marry your Mamma.
I've read the poem twice and will read it__
Again___ to gain more insight and patron.
My love is my gain for you.
Honored and readied for the work at hand.
You honor your family, as whole. And here.
I escape to the read__ of the wrote...What was writ.
Upon my return I shall extoll on the the meter of man.
To whit__ I am a man, as well and not the perfect, of sorts,
but I recognize the glaze of the eyes. The stature, and the
bigger than life__Degrees.
Far away thoughts from far away places.
What could I be thinking?
How can I still be standing here?
Your new opening I may impine
may be of a deeper wrote as well.
It was in deed, mastered fully,
my mistress of tones and tune.
On a hot summer's day, in the grey of the afternoon.
I came on a page and was fully surprised___
... and thrilled by the lacquer and rum.
The images of a pirate, to have known as the man,
of your blood__ is a wondorous turn on the stage.
Deep mystery of life__ Can you ever forgive me,
I have come to make amends.
Will you know that before I am gone.
I will say that I love you many times,
and I will know the depth of your loss.
I am crying here for the great love of your life,
that you have lost... and the distance...
___of the tallying time and dimension.
We are together as one__reading this distance as pain.
You have opened your heart to the life of your dream
__ and the truth of the words of your heart.
Hold tight to the history and hope of life.
Your piece of the part of the dream.
I know__ no other way, than to delight in the heart of you.
I am going to read once more__before I close.
My hand on my heart. I would, that it were not so.
I feel for the warmth of your page.
Back from the shadows.
I know of this tale and your loss.
The shadows of service to a world unrepentent,
... and not to be told what to do.
Your father was asked to do many things in the dark.
Far away from family and friends.
He did the best ...that he could
to leave a legacy of truth and hope
and the survival of his children.
He was a man so much bigger than life,
that most would say,
You can't ever know him. This man.
He is bigger than all of the stories...Foretell.
I fall before you and say, I apologise,
if I have made a mess of my regard for your
memory of your father__
I know that he must have loved your mother very much.
As such__He is and will forever be
The Once and Future King of your whole life.
He is a heroic figure...
and I honor him as a real man.
And truly the father of You.
May God bless. I love you.
Light of the World.
Forever.
_TR_2007_
The closest I'll come to the life that he led is by reading Graham Greene or Somerset Maugham. Goodness! What an interesting provenance. Your tribute is both epic and intimate. Like life - what else? My little sister has a rather romantic Philippine origin. She is the only one of us who researched her birth parents.
It is so very good to see you again.
Beautiful tribute, and I know, and feel, your loss.
a mystery unfolds
two writers
one muse
and one wild ride
on the high seas
to share
under the moonlight.
n.
Poem...TR said I should peek in and say hi....love your work..Hope your feeling better about your dad...for me, it will always be an irreplacable loss..you just pick up and move on and never forget, but you already know that..wink~!..but Petra's right..its exactly how he says...re: the pain...
Blessings..
Anon~
I miss your great writing.
i love the way you express
your pen frlies the night
your heart is so right
but where have you gone sweet mistress.
I hope all is well with youi,
Joe
The Raven haired beauty
She honors her Father
With verses so exquisite
She's a poetic cinematographer
So let's toast him
And his lovely daughter
May she live long
Enjoying all life offers
Prank ~ 9 Sep 2007