|Mindanao is Bleeding
Unleashing the Dogs of War
The Abuja Islamic Education Trust
Islam Through E-Mail
Fr. Eliseo Mercado, Jr.
Said Sadain, Jr.
faces of Mindanao
Manila Moods Online
Abou-Alsamh, a Saudi-American journalist goes online with his Arab News column on
the world of bugs, the ones that actually bite
Innovative Ideas Design
artworks grace this issue. Visit her site too.
The book BUGS
& BYTES, In Bigger Prints, is now available at National Book Store outlets in
MetroManila and the UP Press Bookshop in UP Diliman, Quezon City.
B&B by searching and buying your books & CDs from here.
Rene wrote this when he sent the poem to Bugs &
"they that learned not the lesson of the errored past are condemned to repeat it...
my deep apology to those who are victims of war... no amount of words can describe the
worst experience of their lives - the horror, the humiliation, the anxieties brought about
by fright and flight..."
revolutionary recounts the errored past
by Rene Bernales
It is said
that time heals,
Emotions sooth, feelings pacify,
If this is true and faithful, tell me why,
Grudges and hatred still linger by.
In the land
where heroes are born,
Where sunset never fails to unfold,
The beauty of the Sulu Seas -
What a wonder to behold,
My hometown, adornment of the far South,
Where roam the Martyrs of Faith,
The Guardians of Old.
furrows - tilling patiently their fields,
Others sailed "vintas" to the generous seas,
And bring home the prize of their toils,
With solemn pride in their tired eyes.
But that was
long ago and far,
Before the summer of 1974
Where mortars roared and thunder glowed,
Wailings and cries for help & mercy - you hear,
So horrible a scene- nobody can bear.
I was on my
14th year of age,
When a town of peace was terrorized,
Not by bandits but by armies of the state,
Forced by circumstance , I learned to defy -
A young revolutionary I become,
And vowed "an eye for an eye"
I lost my
adolescence and my innocence,
I become a man - I learned I could not cry,
Hands, so young and tender - that used to hold pens,
Now wielding guns, grenades and anti-personnel mines,
Dangers abound, but fear had deserted me,
I'll defend what is mine and get what is ours to take,
This is all about love and hate.
Now, tell me,
where is time ?
In the hearts of men reside scars and wounds,
Memoirs, memoirs, but not time.
For time is irrelevant and unkind - it has no pity,
Can it bring back the lives of those we loved dearly?
Can it heal the wounds of life I suffered most ?
What it gave me are memories, memories untold.
Of love and hate and adolescence lost.
poetry by Rene Bernales in this issue
The vanity of life
Of love & remembrance