Am No Writer
(Poem)
am no writer
unlike those glorified in books
or showered with praises and perfumes
on a glittering, dignified stage
am just a simple encoder
of an unjust society’s realities
a narrator of the wretched lives
of slaves of injustices
of those hanged by exploiters
on the calvary of tears and grief
of those whose rights and dignity
are mere piece of tattered cloth
for wiping the rectum and feet
of political and economic lords
on the altar of mammonism.
am no poet
talkative only is my tongue
weaving plaited words
to curse evil demigods
plundering by the hour
the people’s hard-earned fund
they who are great bandits
masquerading as nationalists
in the city’s palaces
always entombming the masses
in revolting, despicable lives
always selling the people’s future
by licking the scrotum and anus
of scheming rapist foreign masters.
am no writer
am just a composer
of notes lingering in my ears
sobs of praying mothers
laments of dying fathers
who can’t get hold an aspirin
outcries of orphans
who can’t afford buying
miserable wooden coffins
yes, lingering in my ears
the rumbling of a twisted stomach
the crunching of bones
in some factories of greed
the blasting of a demolished house
beside the stinking putrid canal
the chattering of galvanized sheets
on dilapidated peeled-off roofs
the hissing of breath
of sweating emaciated farmers
in haciendas and fields of grief
the wailing of hungry children
prostrate on cemented sidewalks
of criss-crossing city streets
yes, the lamentations of the poor
anywhere injustices and oppression reign.
am no writer
am just a painter
of decaying wounded images
lurking in my memories
the brush kissing the canvass
through reddish paint
detailing nauseating scenes
in the land of discontent
worm-infested limbs
termites gnawing someone’s chest
guts quivering, bleeding
stomachs with bullet holes
faces skinned every inch
butchered naked bodies
devoid of sacred dignity
while the ruling class
sucks the blood of the poor
and feasting madly
in the fort of addicting power
masticating boiled flesh and bone
stewed heart and liver
beveled noses and gouged eyes
of the exploited, oppressed class.
am no writer
am no poet
am just an encoder
am just a narrator
am just a composer
am just a painter
am just a singer
of revolting realities
in this pus-inflicted society
with neither civility nor dignity
due to the predator ruling class
obssessed to make
their pockets and bellies
bulge forevermore
with stolen blessings
and repugnant wealth!
(my modified English version of DI AKO MANUNULAT)
