Captive In Babylon
July 25, 2009 by hames-1977
On the passages, it says
of a prison, an exile. In Babylon
where walls and ceilings are gone.
Watching the blue sky
turn into darkness, blotted out
by billows of smoke and fire
over ruins of crushed bricks
and pulverized sandstones.
Three hundred and sixty five days.
And life now are moving images
of evacuees and troops,
of tanks and warplanes
from a distance. Boundaries
of earth mounds and trenches.
Through my camp’s window
is a restive realm to which I stand
invaded by bombs and gunfire.
I daydream of home-
while placidly inside,
a vision of seed emerging,
growing into a tree.
Whose blossoms
quite imaginary
at the old hanging gardens,
the fruits at its season
drops by the waters
carried away into streams.
And rivers, down into
the Persian Gulf.
Freedom and peace-
these wandering thoughts
and the desert winds
whispering to my soul. As restless
as the river currents shifting
from Tigris to Euphrates.
Like Nebuchadnezzar- whose ancient cares
flocking like grebes by the floodwaters
inundating history. The centuries old
slipping away a kingdom whose
former glory will never be restored.
I have changed.
“The centuries old
slipping away a kingdom whose
former glory will never be restored.
I have changed. ”
……..speechless, i am….
……..you have such a brilliant mind!
The sentiments laid in this poem could well be every filipinos’ sentiments of dreaming a different kind of freedom : freedom from poverty, oppression brought about by the chaos in politics, freedom from corruption, from not too many opportunities, freedom from a country that seem not promise any bright future for our youth . . .
In one of my iteneraries during my recent weekend trip, I went to a summer fair in Racine, Wisconsin: “Starving Artist Fair” where artworks and crafts by young and unnamed artists are showcased and sold to tourists. I am greatly moved by idea seeing and chatting with the artists and I find myself sharing their sentiments specially with the young artists, because they remind me of my youth not knowing what to do with my gift.
This kids, and this nameless artists are still lucky they were born in America, and that they are given such an opportunity and a venue where they could showcase their works. We do not have that much freedom as artists nor given the same opportunity in our country like they have.
We are literally STARVING ARTISTS in the Philippines, most of our born artists die before even seeing the dawn of hope to fully blossom as artists. I am very sad for the fate of many of our artists. I am lucky enough to have this chance to see all these at 37.
This part of the poem strums a chord in my heart the loudest . . .
“a vision of seed emerging,
growing into a tree.
Whose blossoms
quite imaginary
at the old hanging gardens,
the fruits at its season
drops by the waters
carried away into streams.”
You should see the painting I just recently finished, Marvin, which I’m going to post as soon as I get the chance. It is the finale to my collection and a prologue to the next. The sentiment in this part of your poem resonates to my thoughts in the painting: “Prolgue” and my poem that inspired the painting:
“Let go of your clinging grip; it is time.
Your fate beacons from the unknown distance.
Hear the ringing of your destiny’s chime,
Answer the summons of this tenuous chance!”
It is great to see the world different from where we were born and where we grew. We get a different and better perspective. I hope I could share what I saw in many of our young artists back home to give hope and feed that hunger within, that I share.
I wish you well.
~ Jeques
zen,
such a humble gesture of admiration. i am awestruck by your statement. keep reading and wait for my poem as a reprisal to my moonscape. he he he he
best of times,
marvin
jeques,
we are left orphaned by our motherland while art is being clutched by the ruling elite as if they had the upperhand. and your many travels have provided the contrast of how america is treating its artists and they have the means for survival.
well, during college, i have had the chance to showcase my art through the auspices of gov. tingting cojuangco. during the time of her being the governor of tarlac, she patronized arts and have given the public venues to discover new talents. i was given that chance. and the group born out of it is munad.
but opportunities like these don’t last for long and survival really rests on the individual to follow their heart and stand by their craft, no matter what. so it takes an artist to have constant prodding to create and create, develop and develop until it become a masterful work worthy of a legacy.
to become an artist is not really to become famous, but to establish honesty of expression, unblemished by gimmickry of prevailing media pressures or trends. artists should not be compromised by popularity but rather should have a deep conviction to truth and genuine concern to humanity.
artists should move people to think forward and subliminally influence them to become better persons of the society in which they belong.
and now, you have showed that power of the artist in you who dared to cross boundaries and question the established realities. and that hunger which you have said has been satiated by your disclosure.
thanks for your encouraging words.
best of times,
marvin