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SY 2005-2006
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LITERARY
MY Conftssion
By: Shaynechristie
PRISONER OF CORRUPTION
By: Marie Andrea Entmanuelle Urbano
Held prisoner in a cage A bird cannot foresee What to become of him In the hands of his captor.
After doing all his wishes, everything's fine to him,
Without even bothering to look back to
The creatures he hurt and scarred
There's no more talk as long he is full.
Freedom is his wish
But nothing can be done
To gain the freedom he dreams,
To return to his nest.
In the greediness of the captor
And for his hunger to fill all that he wishes
He is blind to the misery
Of a bird who can do nothing to be freed.
The captor can perform
All his wishes,
He can kill slowly
The bird he already owned.
That is the result
Of hunger for power
To the creatures
That are less literate than him.
The bird can be freed
If someone will help him.
Together with the urges,
He must also fight for his very freedom.
Winning of justice
ERASERS
By: Ria Mae Bolivar
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By: Belen M. Huyo - Guidance Counselor
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I fell in love for the first time. Naturally, I had no idea what I was getting into.
Youth, like me, for all our freshness and vigor we do not have wisdom of, past experience. And so it was that I was very ill-equipped when Cupid's arrow first struck me. I still have fairy tale notions of love: Boys like girls, girls like boys, boy and girl pledge undying love for each other, and they live happily ever after. I had to find my MR. RIGHT and everything would be alright. I was young and invincible. No sadness could touch me especially in the area of romance. When, I find myself drawn to someone for the first time, everything was wonderful and new.
The splendor of creation, the marvel of life – I had never tasted them more fully than, when I had a heart grateful for the first touch of love. It was bliss, it was ecstasy. I was madly, deeply, truly in love.
I thought my happiness was without end. But it lasted too early. Where did it go? I don't know. Maybe it wasn't love at all. Maybe it was merely a sweet but insignificant friendship. But if it wasn't love, what was it then?
Every time I see him comes out of the campus, my eyes would light up like an incandescent bulb. He would smile and I'd melt with
levels, and my drama was wasting away fora boy I had lost. Through it all I love him very much.
If he was happier with me only as a friend, so be it. Though it sometimes felt like I had a wound in my heart. It didn't matter, I love him anyway. Maybe I could not have his love but I at least have his friendship. I love him so much. I felt that it was such a massive injustice, tyranny even, that I could not have him, when I was probably the one who loved him most, after his mother.
Call it stupidity, call it insanity, call it obsession, call it infatuation, call it whatever you want, it was love, sweet bittersweet love, with love as with faith, if you believe that's justification enough, no explanation is necessary, if you do not, no explanation is possible. When you are blessed enough to love, it will change you so many
convinced my friends, I have fallen
in love with him.
I love his smile most of all. I remember how he used to smile at me when we'd passed each other in the school corridors. Reflexively, I'd smiled back, grinning like silly, and my eyes dangerously closed to splitting. He'd given me that dazzling smile of his and everything would stop just like that. It was as if the world had ceased to exist; it was only me and him: his killer smile and the vertiginous dance of my heart.
He gave me the greatest happiness as well as the greatest sadness of my life. The times when he made me feel most loved will be like treasure in my mind. I fell apart when it finally became clear that we weren't getting anywhere, at least not together and that our great love affair was only being carried on in my imagination. Love is a woman's existence and mine became totally disordered. I could not eat, I could not sleep, and I could not study. I could not do anything but think of him. I cannot imagige it now, but there was a time when my every thought was of him. I would be praying and I'd thought of him and then I'd prayed, "Please God, I love him. Please let him love me again".
I kept my life empty for a long time, so that he could freely reenter anytime he wished. Now I realized that this was a great disservice to myself. In great, tragic love for this person I had forgotten myself and became a victim of my own negligence. But then in the anguished lives of the young lovers, we need a drama to commensurate to our hormonal
different people, different things at
different times.
In all my years of loving one boy with all my heart could hold, I learned that no matter where I went, no matter what I did, no matter who I was with, there was only one person for me. It was not his fault that I was so unhappy for so long, it was only my misfortune, my cross to carry. Inspite of everything, I am a better person.
To me love is not a conquest. You do not make a person submit to your will and mold him as you see fit to make him more lovable in your eyes. You love him for what he is. Do not brag to your friends that he is yours for the taking. There is no place for braggadocio in love. You wait instead for the time he tells you he loves you. You do not bawl at him, "How dare you tell me you love me, take my heart and then disappear from my life?". You do not blame him your shattered illusions and way laid dreams and least of all your broken heart.
It was never easy to lay open the door to your heart, because love and rejection get in the same way. Love is not for the fainthearted.
I envy people who are not afraid to go after their happiness and drama. consequences. I envy people who can go from one conquest to another without feeling diminished by it.
I can never be like them.
I will be contented to be alone. I have learned to swallow my loneliness like a bitter pill, hoping that my good behavior will make fate smile at me and say, "Here is the one for you; your name is written in his heart".
ueTeSfing corrupTion s growin.
Winning of justice over corruption
Must be planted in the mind
In yourself and to others
Abusers will be vanquished and justice will rule.
At the end, the bird can be seen
In the sky, happy and brave
Lesson of slavery already learned
We're all the same, who can overpower us but only God.
On the sixth day, the Lord created humanity. On the seventh day, God rested, not so much to recuperate from the precious six days of work, but rather to prepare for the work of the next day. For it was on that day – the eighth day – that God created the first teacher.
This teacher, though taken from among regular men and women, had several significant modifications. In general, God made the teacher more durable than most people. The teacher was made to rise at 5:30 a.m. and to go to bed no earlier than 11:00 p.m. with no rest in between. The teacher had to be able to withstand being locked up in an air-tight classroom for six hours, without a bathroom break, with 36 first graders on a rainy Monday. The teacher had to be fit to correct 200 term papers over Easter vacation.
Yes, God made the teacher tough, but gentle, too. The teacher was created with the stamina to resist the temptation to make the work too easy or too hard and the wisdom to know which student needed what kind of encouragement to get them through. The teacher was equipped with soft hands to dry the tears of the second grader whose pet gold fish drowned the night before, or those of the 16 year-old girl who was not asked to the prom.
And into the teacher God poured a generous amount of patience. Patience ... when a student asks for the directions to be repeated just after the teacher has repeated them for someone else and the rest of the class for the second time. Patience... when one-third of the class fails the test. Patience... when the textbooks haven't
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God also gave the teacher a heart slightly bigger than the average human heart. For the teacher's heart had to be big enough to love the kid who screams, "I hate this class – its boring", to love the kid who wets his pants in the middle of the phonics lesson given with the principal in the room, to love the kid who gets arrested for drunk driving the day after she got an "A" on her essay entitled, "The Evils of Alcohol", to love the kid who runs out of the classroom at the end of the year without so much as a good-bye, let alone a "thank you".
And lastly, God gave the teacher an abundant supply of hope and prayer. For God knew that the teacher would always be hoping and praying. Hoping that the kids would someday learn how to spell; hoping that for just one day no one's zipper would get stuck; praying for the child who misses school because of illness, hoping not to have lunch room supervision; praying for that unlovable child, hoping that Friday would com; praying for wisdom, hoping for a free day; and always hoping for decent pay in order to cover all the bills.
When God finished creating the teacher, God stepped back and admired the end product. God saw that the teacher was good – very good. And God smiled, for when God looked at the teacher, God saw into the future. God saw that a beloved child, Jesus, would someday came to earth and love among people and he would be called teacher, too.
(written by Melanie Svoboda, Notre Dame)
Isaiah 31:19-21
The captor can perform
All his wishes,
He can kill slowly
The bird he already owned.
That is the result
Of hunger for power
To the creatures
That are less literate than him.
After doing all his wishes, everything's fine to him,
Without even bothering to look back to
The creatures he hurt and scarred
There's no more talk as long he is full.
The bird can be freed
If someone will help him.
Together with the urges,
He must also fight for his very freedom.
Winning of justice
Sprouting of confidence and courage
To your duty by
Detesting corruption's growth.
Winning of justice over corruption
Must be planted in the mind
In yourself and to others
Abusers will be vanquished and justice will rule.
At the end, the bird can be seen
In the sky, happy and brave
Lesson of slavery already learned
We're all the same, who can overpower us but only God.
On the sixth day, the Lord created humanity. On the seventh day, God rested, not so much to recuperate from the precious six days of work, but rather to prepare for the work of the next day. For it was on that day – the eighth day – that God created the first teacher.
This teacher, though taken from among regular men
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By: Bcicn M. Huyo - Guidance Counselor
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come and classes start tomorrow.
God also gave the teacher a heart slightly bigger than the average human heart. For the teacher's heart had to be big enough to love the kid who screams, "I hate this class – its boring", to love the kid who wets his pants in the middle of the phonics lesson given with the
be alright. I was young and invincible. No sadness could touch me especially in the area of romance. When I find myself drawn to someone for the first time, everything was wonderful and new.
The splendor of creation, the marvel of life – I had never tasted them more fully than, when I had a heart grateful for the first touch of love. It was bliss, it was ecstasy. I was madly, deeply, truly in love.
I thought my happiness was without end. But it lasted too early. Where did it go? I don't know. Maybe it wasn't love at all. Maybe it was merely a sweet but insignificant friendship. But if it wasn't love, what was it then?
Every time I see him comes out of the campus, my eyes would light up like an incandescent bulb. He would smile and I'd melt with happiness. Even to this day, when I have successfully convinced myself and unsuccessfully convinced my friends, I have fallen in love with him.
I love his smile most of all. I remember how he used to smile at me when we'd passed each other in the school corridors. Reflexively, I'd smiled back, grinning like silly, and my eyes dangerously closed to splitting. He'd given me that dazzling smile of his and everything would stop just like that. It was as if the world had ceased to exist; it was only me and him: his killer smile and the vertiginous dance of my heart.
He gave me the greatest happiness as well as the greatest sadness of my life. The times when he made me feel most loved will be like treasure in my mind. I fell apart when it finally became clear that we weren't getting anywhere, at least not together and that our great love affair was only being carried on in my imagination. Love
it all I love him very much.
If he was happier with me only as a friend, so be it. Though it sometimes felt like I had a wound in my heart. It didn't matter, I love him anyway. Maybe I could not have his love but I at least have his friendship. I love him so much. I felt that it was such a massive injustice, tyranny even, that I could not have him, when I was probably the one who loved him most, after. his mother.
Call it stupidity, call it insanity, call it obsession, call it infatuation, call it whatever you want, it was love, sweet bittersweet love, with love as with faith, if you believe that's justification enough, no explanation is necessary, if you do not, no explanation is possible. When you are blessed enough to love, it will change you so many ways you can never be the same again.
Love means different things to different people, different things at different times.
In all my years of loving one boy with all my heart could hold, I learned that no matter where I went, no matter what I did, no matter who I was with, there was only one person for me. It was not his fault that I was so unhappy for so long, it was only my misfortune, my cross to carry. Inspite of everything, I am a better person.
To me love is not a conquest. You do not make a person submit to your will and mold him as you see fit to make him more lovable in your eyes. You love him for what he is. Do not brag to your friends that he is yours for the taking. There is no place for braggadocio in love. You wait instead for the time he tells you he loves you. You do not bawl at him, "How dare you tell me you love me, take my heart and then disappear from my life?". You do
Isaiah 31:19-21
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