the bomb

sandy beach, sept 05, tacloban city

vintage bomb. wp-81. evidence of war. my hometown is a depository of such war remains. one was found in the beach resort near my house. some fishermen caught this bomb in a fish net. brought it on land. and made a show out of this. everyone was curious. no matter how the soldier guarded this relic, people still managed to get hold of it.

i was told the bomb remains active even after a hundred years. and yes, that bomb was. i noticed smoke billowing from the bomb. but we didnt feel any fear. instead, we were awed. we saw a vintage bomb "on live". we felt a sense of being part of the history of my country. that was 1945. and today is 2005. sixty long years, and it seems only yesterday. but that was bygone. no point of crying. after the bomb experts took "home" the remains of war, our day went on. we swam. we enjoyed. we frolic. after all, this is my place. the beach was inviting.

and i think this is the way life should be.

wanted

you get what you see. interested? email your CV to syrob_2p@yahoo.com. first come, first serve.

flowers in the yard

it is just one of those days. nothing extraordinary. so common. one hurries off, mind preoccupied of the day's business. write a report. meeting with a client. sales qouta to meet. now eyebrows meeting, face sagging, more wrinkles getting noticed. this defines the routine of most human beings in my place.

except me. i saw flowers and saw them all in a place uninviting. i saw flowers being spit on by a man walking by. i saw flowers being trampled by dogs playing. and when i took notice, i saw these all. and i saw these all in a yard in a sidewalk.