At Charlene's party, I was talking to a friend, and she mentioned how she could totally see me as a high school teacher.  It is a provocative thought and one that a few of my friends have mentioned to me.  I don't know though.  I've always seen myself as not having the charisma or the wherewithal to be a teacher.  I don't think I could get through to the teenagers of today.  I think I'd end up preaching all the time.  It takes a special individual to teach, and I am not sure I have it.  Would I really be cut out for that?  I don't even know where to start.  I wonder if I could do it.  I don't feel that I am in tune with high school students of today, or that I can really relate.  Maybe I could eventually get to that point, but it's hard work.  What isn't though, right?  I will sit on the idea for a while.  I'm quite flattered by the prospect, especially because of how influential educators can be.

It definitely is a good feeling to know that other people believe in you.  It is strange however, when they believe in you more than you believe in yourself.  I tell people that another person's opinion of you, doesn't have to be your reality.  I tell people that the only opinion that really matters is your own.  I'm too stubborn to let simple opinions change my own.  I need facts.  I need evidence.  I need truth.  Then, I can change.  Nobody knows me better than me.  That's why I doubt myself so much. 

Just came from a funeral.  My cousin's grandfather on the other side of the family passed away.  He was ninety-two years old.  The eulogy was very nice, as it was done by one of his thirty-two granddaughters.  She had a very heartfelt eulogy, and there were two statements that stuck out to me.  One was that Lakay Ambrocio liked to play cards, even in his advanced age.  I can attest to that.  He didn't play solitaire either.  He gambled.  He played a game called 41, which I have no idea to play, but I think I should learn it now.  The other statement that stuck out was that there was a language barrier between them.  That bothers me quite a bit.  It's another sign of how it would be beneficial to have classes in different Philippine dialects. 

Next on the list is the FAYLC counselor debriefing, PYC screening of "Lumpia", Sinag-Tala practice, and Charlene's birthday party. 

TOO

(The Origin Of) Defender of Man

I wasn't always this
dashing hero,
kevlar cape
and reflective tape,
standing atop buildings
like I run shit.

I wasn't always
the darkest day's
anti-player savior
answering distress "67" beacons
and cries of "Captain Torch! Save me!"
at which point I would
fly down and ensure
that justice was served.

It wasn't always like that.

See, I just figured
that when one day
I woke up
stronger than
those who would hurt me,
better than
those who would fuck with me,
smarter than
those who would scheme to defeat me,
when one day I acquired
the ability to see through
bullshit
and could leap
tall lies
in a single bound,

I swore to myself
that never again
would the nice guy finish last.
Cuz I've got this alter ego
and he's far from a hero
to the many girls in this world
who are looking for something
not real or not right
from outside of it.
I'm sworn to protect
the sweet, the sensitive,
the helpless,
against the wiles
behind the smiles
of the fairer of the species,
the ones that are more unfair.

There are villainesses out there,
with cute tactics locked,
but decide to cockblock
like they fear toxic shock
when all we ever wanted
was to kick it.
Evil chicks
with sweet charades displayed
who always say the nicest things,
singing mating songs
with syrupy venom
on their tongues
to get us to hear it wrong.
Girls who encourage
with a flourished wave
of hand or an eyelid.
"Man oh man,
why did I ever think
I had a chance with that?"

It wasn't happenstance.
The plan was a trap
because they know
you'd bite.
And so I don my cape,
full outfit on.
for those who've been
shit on,
I'll make it right.

So to every cocktease,
every girl fishin for
a fuckin compliment,
every dominant chick on
a mission for
some sucker to pick on,
every girl who wants to
toe that line
for kicks
then change her mind,
every woman who's ever
led someone on
just for a little attention
and generally
every pretty face
in the place
who wishes to waste
my time or anyone else's
with the sole motive of being selfish,
let this serve
as your final notice
to cease and desist
at once and from now on
before I get really pissed.

I do this on behalf
of any man whose wrath
and ire
proved futile against
some of the flyer
yatches
withholding anything
from snatch to even a true match
from the last cat
who was a catch
and proved to be
far more than adequate,
and at the very least
hardly average.

Next time you fuck with
any defenseless heart
and start its motor
then leave it idling
unattended,
broken and unmended,
surrendered then
left for dead with
not so much as a
thank you note
for the man you broke
whose hopes are dashed
and vital fluids are leakin,
I'm just saying
you better hope
you don't see that
distress beacon.

Cuz Torch ain't havin it.

- Jerry Ponce

STEP presentation and Sinag-Tala planning meeting. PYC meeting, Sinag-Tala rehearsals, and Chi Rho Omicron rush party. FAYLC debriefing potluck, PYC "Lumpia" Screening, and Charlene's birthday party. Mix that all up with my full time work schedule and working on stuff for SAVE, and that's my To-Do List for the next three days.
I like to stay busy. Maybe it's me running away from something else, trying to ignore other facets of my life. But they always come back and I have to face them eventually. Maybe it's for me to stay sane, to stop thinking for a moment and to act. But acting is a natural result of thinking, analyzing, and choosing. Maybe it's me trying to make up for my many mistakes and faults in the past. But you're future is not determined by what you have done in the past alone. Maybe it's me asserting how I am valuable, instead of wondering how valuable I am. Because too much of the world tries to pigeon-hole you into a certain position in life.
If I take a look at the Veteranos of World War II, I see a group of people that fought for the freedoms that so many of us take for granted. I also see a group that has been besieged with so many unfair policies that they could've have given up long ago. They haven't though.
Neither can I.
Right now, we have HR 677, the Full Equity Bill. There are also at least six bills in Congress, all Benefits Improvement Acts. One bill, S 1213, has been gaining momentum, but it does not give full equity. What are we to do? We all seek full equity, but some of the people believe that we have to do it a little bit at a time. Some believe that we need it now. In Sacramento alone, we have five Congressional districts with about 20 representatives that haven't signed onto HR 677. It's an uphill battle that we face. What else is new?
We've been here before, and every failure brings us closer to success.

Talk Dirty to Me

dirty bitch.
am i yet another conquest of your
rampant mouth,
perhaps the only one to not enjoy it?
am i
someone to talk about
speculate about
wonder about
make shit up about
between your own various
acts of scandal?
feral bitch
with nothing to do
but root about
sticking your snout
in other people's shit,
don't you have
some wet t-shirt contest
you should be entering?
i heard about that.
or don't you have
some friend's friend to fuck?
i heard about that too.
i wasn't gonna say anything.
but hey, as long as we're
talking about
what we know of each other,
i thought i'd share a few things
with you,
seeing as we're friends and all.
dirty bitch.

-grumbling groaning, Jerry Ponce

ticket stub

we each hold
half a memory,
saved like
little footprints in pavement
looked back on in amazement.
but back then were we
thinking so monumentally
looking past that friend-to-be
at things maybe
meant to be?

i hold my half,
while ripped and incomplete,
whole in that it's concrete
and thoughts were sweet
before they were
vilified and corrupted
busted and besmirched
by optimism
ambition
imagination at work.
now i hold my half,
unsatisfied by
partitioning,
fractional potentiality,
factional actuality,
war between what just went down
and the other paths it could've taken.

you hold your half,
similarly torn
by dreams born
now runaway
to invade waking days.
playing
20 questions with a ticket stub--
am i wild or pettable,
analytical or vegetable,
mineral rock-solid dependable?
the answers are here
as they are there
just ask
to compare
and you'll see
that my half of this memory
placed with yours
might tell us something.

- brother to the night (i just got home), Jerry Ponce

Taking Turns

i'm sorry i
probably just missed you and
maybe i should've called you but
spare time ain't been spare
nor languid nor lazy,
just crazy
lately.
and sorry i
keep weaving in and out of
open lanes of communication but
damn i get sleepy
on long bending roads
of fate,
at the wheel but not awake
as places i've been,
time and date,
can't be spun back on this plate
where all grooves lead to
finally being centered.
i can't see shit
these paths are black as night i
think that light by
the side i
saw was you but i blew right by.
i'm sorry i
just missed you,
but if you can wait
i'll be around again
sometime
before the song ends.
and i'm sorry i
am sorry i
am sorry i
just
miss you.

- hominy grits, Jerry Ponce