Posts Tagged ‘Irony’

Irony

Posted: August 7, 2018 in Poems
Tags: , , , , ,
Bea Pangilinan

Photo by: John Carlo Cielo and RJ Fulache

White-washed, plain, smooth walls;
Halls of linear, brown, wooden doors;
Wards full of beds with identical sheets
Smelling of strong ethyl and chlorine.

I sat by my room’s only window—
Glass and sill cleaned a little too well
To protect me from the world’s harms out there.
I looked outside to try remembering
What it’s like to live beyond white walls.

They say I’m missing nothing at all—
Only threats, dangers, and my very death;
That my life is kept better within these walls so white,
with syringes, IVs, and the machine beeping at my side.

“This food will make you stronger,” they would say,
always, as they give me my silver-plated tray.
The IV fluid will fix whatever is wrong,
My two tablets and five capsules would heal what’s broken,
And so long as I stay inside these white walls
I’ll live, and the rest of the details would be rightly woven.

That’s what they say, what I’ve always been told.
And I could never say they’re wrong, but I guess
there’s just a lot of things that they don’t know.

They don’t know that every time I soak my hands
With alcohol to touch nothing after,
I’m being stripped not of my filth but of my joy.

And every time I eat my colorless meals,
My mind and heart cry out I’m being poisoned.
Every time they change my sheets with another dull blanket
I run out of breath a little slowly.
Every time the IV is inserted in my veins
My blood runs dry a little more.
And every intake of my prescriptions
Seems to be little deaths, part by part, little by little,
Capsules replacing my cells a million at a time.

Call this depression, or call it insanity,
But for me it’s just plaintively funny
how the institution that exists to give life
snuffs that very essence out of me.

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Of Life’s Ironies

Posted: March 2, 2015 in Poems
Tags: ,

There are so many people

who are there only

to laud you in your success,

but never to strengthen you

when you’re fainthearted;

there to commend you

when you get the job done,

but never to smile at you comfortingly

when you commit a mistake.

There to say, “I’m proud of you,”

when you’ve gained world recognition,

but never was once there to encourage you

when you were still treading that trial-filled journey.

There are just so many people

who are ready to smile with you in triumph

without even bothering to know the heartaches

you suffered before reaching that victory…

and without bothering to realize

how they have actually inflicted all the pain.

Me: An Oxymoron (6.24.11)

Posted: November 24, 2014 in Poems
Tags: , , ,

Who is this confident girl you meet,
Who, for leadership, seemed to be fit?
Who is that girl who speaks out her thoughts,
Stubborn, seems hard to be trapped and caught?

I am the girl who appears to be strong,
Unafraid, confident to face the throng.
I am the girl who appears to be holy
To those who doesn’t know its meaning truly.

I am the unbendable that wavers;
I am the straight one that waves like waters.
I’m the strong armor that easily dents,
I’m the determined who’s ready for relents.

I am the leader who needs to be led,
And the strong one who is as weak as dead.
I’m the laughing one that grieves every day,
I’m the “righteous” who strays out of God’s Way.

I’m the “generous” who acts selfishly
And the “matured” who thinks self-centeredly.
Yes, I’m the “valiant” who is sinful
I’m the intelligent who is a fool.

I’m the “spiritual-wise” thirsting for knowledge
I am the hopeful whose hope is at the edge.
I’m the indifferent who’s weak inside,
I’m the solid that shatters in all sides.

They all see me as the strong-willed lady,
Yet I’m the girl who longs for God’s face to see.
I’m the unworthy and undeserving one
Who, if not by grace, would’ve been long gone.

I am the sinful, wretched, dying man
For whom Christ gave up the life which He ran.
I am the stone-hearted who heeded His call,
And begs for God to change my heart and all.

I’m the cold stone that grows warm by His grace,
I am the wimp who will finish God’s race.
I may be the girl whose words aren’t credible,
And whose life, with grace, is incompatible.

But I do know this one more thing for sure:
That God’s grace is limitless; it endures.
My life may linger with remains of sin,
But Christ can change me on the outside and within.