Waves Without Sounds

When things come crashing on the shores of the mind.

Month: September, 2015

Blast from the past: The Balangiga Massacre

This literally hits home as Balangiga is in the same region as my hometown.


Today marks the 114th anniversary of the infamous Balangiga Massacre, which exemplifies the brutal treatment and racist attitude of the Americans towards the Filipino people in their quest to “pacify” the Philippines and integrate our islands as an  American possession—as in the words of President McKinley, to “benevolently assimilate” the Philippines. Despite the US government’s effort to cover up their atrocities in the Philippines, the Balangiga Massacre remains one of if not the best documented example of  American war crimes against the Filipino people.

  • The Action of 28 September 1901

Originally, the “Balangiga Massacre” was referred to the battle that happened in the town of Balangiga, Samar on 28 September 1901 where the troops of Company C, 9th US Infantry Regiment were garrisoned in order to close down the town’s port and prevent supplies from reaching the guerilla troops of General Vicente Lukban.

The townspeople decided to attack the Americans…

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In the Null

Is this an incapacity
Or a mental capability
To let oneself adhere
To the urges that we shun?

Does it not take one some courage
To let our very nature
Act for us in such a way
That we really mean to act?

It is an animosity;
It is brute;
It is primal;
That is what all says.

But when the current aims to take you
Wherever it wishes,
Is it not strength to swim against
The very path it flows?

Deviance, they call it,
Power, that I say.
Power to rise over the waves
And trends the world demands.

Power it is,
Not abnormality
For is it not supremacy
To go beyond the norms?

To stand out of those outstanding
To be more than a face in the crowd
There is no shame to be oneself
There is no shame in staying true.

When everyone is trying to
Be like everybody,
This means anybody is
Sure to be nobody.

In the everything and nothing,
There could be anything
As for me, I would rather be
Something or somebody.

The Great Deception

raised-handsI want to believe there is more to this.
I want to believe in a greater thought.
Upon this barren land of hopelessness,
A light will shine one day
And all will be blessed and all will be bright,
And all will ascend from this abyss
Of gloom in which we fell.
If only I can lie enough to myself.
If only the number of times
I utter this lie will someday lead
To its conversion to reality.
For now, all that I can do
Is speak this lie as if I mean it
And whisper this to every ear
More than willing to listen
Until we share in one great lie–
In one great shared psychosis–
And all will call this very lie

Trade Between End and Beginning


Whose are the eyes I stare at?
Who are you who stands above
The pit I was thrown into,
And why have you come to me?

I was lifeless. I was dead.
I was condemned to lay beneath the earth
For all eternity.
I have been fed to the void.

Why did you resurrect me?
Why did you labour upon my grave
With none to light but the closing eye
Of a mocking silver moon?

I owe you nothing.
You are a stranger to me.
Could it be that you want me
To owe this new life to you?

I have lost my heart and soul, dear,
Do not expect silent submission
To your every command.
You lord no power over me.

I hated the world when I was living,
And I loathed it more in death.
I was at peace when I stopped breathing,
But now you bless me a new breath.

Let us make the matters simpler.
Let us make a trade–
Your life for mine, my death for yours,
And I see you accept.

Cunning merchant that you are, dear,
I now understand this is a bargain.
Now rest in peace, grim necromancer,
Feel me tread the earth under which you lay.

Beating Hearts


Beating Hearts

The smell of iron all around me,
Upon my skin, a haunting warmth,
I feel a wetness on my hands
Which are fists coiled round surface cold.

I take in the metallic air
With breath drawn deep into my lungs.
I open my eyes and now I see
The dripping crimson all around me.

And there you lay, your body warm,
Still clothed in all your luxury,
Though bludgeoned, your grandiosity
Left unbetrayed by my monstrosity.

Beautiful even in your death,
My love, that is you are–
Ungrudging canvas of my art;
My divine muse incarnate.

Can anyone come to know
How truly we love each other so?
Or how deep the roots our passion bore
Into our hearts that dance one rhythm?

I want the world to know, my love,
How true and pure our love has been.
How life is both ours to fight
And death our consummation.

Hence I display for all to see
How deeply dear you were to me;
How much our love deviates
From their vapid norms.

Though they say mine is crime of passion,
Love, we do both know,
This crime–if it even is–
Is as much mine as yours.

Neither is it brought by unstable minds
Nor of a sudden surge of lust.
This is an act of loving hearts–to stop each from beating.
Now watch me, love, as I carve my own heart out for thee.

UNBETRAYED. I made up a word because I have no other word to best display my thoughts. I have been dreaming of blood lately, one time I even woke up to the scent of actual blood because my nose has been bleeding. The Philippine weather is to blame for my nosebleed.

The Plunge

PlungeThe Plunge

My love, my love! Oh look at us,
We are a tragedy.
Look how the Fates tear us apart;
Displeased at you and me,
I know for naught. My love, take heart,
For we shall find a way
With none but guile, no diffidence,
And little certainty,
Beloved one, we’ll consummate
This grim matrimony.

Here we are now, my love.
Look– the raging sea below.
Look– the pitch-black sky above.
Our time is running slow.

Now bathed in cold, forgiving darkness
And soaked in the blood of our prey.
In the aftermath of death, my love,
We’ve no laws to obey.

So warm and comforting the way,
You take me into your arms.
“It’s beautiful,” indeed, you say,
All my guards you disarm.

Ah, my love, as we fall now
Into the crashing waves,
Let this fateful plunge be how
Our love will be engraved
Upon the sands of time and on
The slates of history.
Let us now dive, my love, into
Our immortality.

 Above is a screenshot of the ‘Hannibal’ season finale. I am so smitten by this programme that I find it difficult to move on from its ending. Do not blame me for shipping Dr. Lecter and Will Graham, though, the show itself is obviously their romance story.

Rejecting Goodbye


Rejecting Goodbye

We were at our zenith when
You made it known you’re leaving.
I cherished each hour since then;
Caught each breath you were heaving.

At the same time, love, I did
Steel myself for your goodbye.
All the sorrow I had hid
Each time we looked eye-to-eye.

But love, I did not foresee
The damage that you were to
Leave and engrave deep in me
Come the time for you to go.

Ah love, love, how you left me
With a great and gaping void.
Such a feeling so empty–
I was nothing but destroyed.

So love, will you please allow
Me to leave all this for you?
Come, my love. Come, let us now
Leave the life that we once knew.

I had just watched the finale of ‘Hannibal’. It was unsettlingly beautiful, but I refuse to acknowledge that the journey that had me spiraling down to the brink of insanity has come to an end. It left me in a partially unsound mental state for some moments and also a deep feeling of hollowness.