Poetry 2: Eulogy for a friend

Eulogy for a friend (2007)

Silence has reached your feet…

A predicament that grieves all

 Life has cut its wreath,

But so sad, an unexpected call…

 You have lived the drama,

the comedy has paid its part...

 the inevitable has come and passed.

I wonder why it happened so fast…

 Living the succulent life, you did,

But things happen even as you close a lid.

 Who knows? Who dares to?

The world leaves questions but not a clue.

As a stranger you bow your head,

As a friend, you took the lead.

 One final stand was left and then you fade.

Sometimes, I ask why aid is late to make…

 To reminisce those days, I stare at you,

Is more real, but not as sweet…

 You lay there with innocence I don’t know,

   My friend, you played the song until it’s final beat…

Death: Life's Final Page

by: Valred Olsim

They say life is a mystery to be solved, a riddle, the ultimate puzzle that can only be deciphered through living it. For centuries, writers and poets have written loads of literary pieces, not just to celebrate life, but to mystify the human experience called, “existence”. It struck me, however, as a cynic, that this proposition is trying to disguise the most important part of life: Death.

Sometimes, life is really simple; you‘re born, you live, and then ultimately, you die. Death, as a subject, has been always avoided, not just by conformist writers (which I’m already sick of), but nearly every soul you want to talk it with. None of us seems psychologically ready to the idea of permanent unconsciousness, whether to others or to ourselves. We always seem to deny the condition of being lost to nothingness and its cold grip that haunts our human thought. The idea is simply, terrifying and different from the day to day events that we are used to face. Death’s reality and its closeness have always inspired methods that would help us cope with the anxiety and fear that we repress. We disguise its power through mystification, religion, jokes and euphemisms such that we forget about its terror; much like hiding from the glares of a monster. We hide our eyes from its face, but still we spread our fingers just a bit, because there’s something in us that just can’t resist a peek.

Death is never the other side of life as others claim; it is just part of a vicious cycle that everyone will go through. The truth is, nobody knows what lies there; whether there is an after-life as they call it, or maybe nothing, but an empty vacuum. See, what scares us is our weakness and inability to know – our “innate fear of the unknown”. Still, we try to conceal its presence and live our life as though we can live forever.

I have nothing against the conformist and optimistic view of life and death. Certainly, it is not a crime to hide the dark and absurd reality of life by covering it up with flowers and rainbows. It’s just that I am bothered by how humans have become conceited even with its mortality; we have successfully reached the moon but have never visited our closest neighbor, we have made a lot of discoveries but have not discovered the secret to happiness, we have advanced technologically but have moved backward with out our ideals and values, indeed, we have forgotten the only thing that can humble us.

I have my own experience of watching a person you know or even you’re close with disappear from the face of the earth. It is painful; it takes a long time to realize that it is the nature of life that you must accept. I wrote about death not to scare anyone, but to remind us once more of studying how we have been living this temporary state. It is very evident that we have all been caught with the false and tempting promise of this material world; that, we are obsessed with the latest gadgets, money and property as if these are the only things in life. We have become soaked with vanity and triviality as if death is not looming in the corners. I wrote this for us to perhaps, stop for awhile and think about our lives and how we make every second valuable; after all, life is so short. 

Days of Age

My father logged out his facebook account and fell silent for awhile before he left the  computer table. He stood like he is still 35, far from what he looked like 18 months ago after he had his operation. Cancer. I’ve witnessed my friends, mentors, and my ‘lolos’ being devoured away by this disease ..after which, they cease to exist. Just when you thought you could still have the chance to talk to them..awan dan met gayamen. The absurdity of life is often reminded to you by the simplest pondering of everyday. Tonight, I saw a man who can still live for another 20 years.

My father proceeded to watch the evening news while I start to cook our dinner. My sister is already married and my mom is away from home about 3 years now, so naturally, “karne” nga kanayon ti maluto for us 3 guys . My brother is not yet home, I bet he’s on a night out – on a bar having his gig. I thought he could turn pro if only he can change some of his ‘rock and roll’ attitude, but then, he is rock and roll - just like me 6 years ago.

“Mangan.” (Eat) I called out, and prepared  our plates. I remembered that when I was in my first year college in my rebellious years, I had broken plates and glasses, after the occasional shouting and the screaming – ironically, I hated my father for his unmanaged anger on even the most mundane things, and often quarreled with my siblings because of reasons that I seemed to have forgotten. Tonight, there was only silence. “Kasano eskwela?”… “Ada bagsak ko ya…” I bowed to avoid his gaze. But he did not look at me, “istimarem ah nu next”  he said without any emotion at all. My typical dad. Back in college, even with the inviting explosion of demand for nurses, I took up “other” courses and shifted thrice – accountancy to political science to philosophy and finally to English literature, because it’s the easiest to pass…honestly. My undergraduate life was a joke, or shall I call it “rock and roll”. “Wen.” I said. I must have said that word a thousand times only to break them.

I finished my meal earlier and paced to the computer table. I thought I will just check my facebook for 5 minutes but I knew that ‘that’ will not happen – 5 minutes will turn to 1 hour to 2 hours to 5 hours. I suspect that FB is the reason why I failed the subjects. It’s really hard for a 23 year old guy, in a post graduate course who is, at the same time working, not to crave for a little bit of diversion or entertainment…in this case, Facebook (and occasional parties of course). “Single and ready to mingle”, I recalled while scrolling down on my FB status. And after a while, it caught my eye, I saw a link which my father posted and I saw a sign of a middle age crisis. It was a picture of a man with a quote which says:

“First I was dying to finish high-school and start college. Then I was dying to finish college and start working. Next, I was dying for my children to grow old enough for school, so I could return to work. Finally, I was dying to retire. And now, I am dying and I realize I forgot to live..”

My father, a 50 year old man who has yet to see his grandchildren, is evidently absorbed in a melancholic crisis of growing old. When I was in college, I fiercely debate for existentialism and even brand faith, the arts, and even entertainment as weaknesses to exist. I took the arrogance of sounding smart but now that I have succumbed to it, I realized that I have to live and pass through time, one year after another, to understand the ideas and feelings of the old and of course, the reason why they always tell me that I am  "too young".

In this life, the old is reminded by their impending demise when they see the young and see themselves in them. However, for us who are young today, soon, our skin will get wrinkled, our sight and hearing will get weaker, our body will be more fragile..,it will be a battle against time and disease, of this mortal age.,and soon we leave our names and possessions in our grave--not a professional, or a  doctor, a lawyer, or a wealthy man..but a decaying corpse. We, the young, shall also be reminded to take things slowly before we die.

So what is the meaning of life if this is how absurd it is? Is it in our own adventure or journey that will give us the answers? Perhaps.

With that conviction, we must move on from those questions to find answers..moving on even from regrets, from those mistakes.,and accepting that we are not any bigger than life itself. Perhaps, it is only then that we can understand…or perhaps, I can only put some words in this note to give me peace of mind.

(My father died about 7 months after I wrote this)