my son archie


the run-away bride, your Mount Everest


Seek protection under the dove's wings

Our Lady Of Guadalupe

Our Lady Of Guadalupe
Graced by Nay Tita, your light shines on



Just A Piece In Her Chessboard?

Just A Piece In Her Chessboard?
To restore Arts Health and integration back to society

Eulogy For Marina

Eulogy For Marina
In Honor Of The Virgin Of Antipolo

I Am The Clown Bobo

I Am The Clown Bobo
Through her eyes, my grand daughter, Tiara Luise Imperial

Blessings To My Soul

Blessings To My Soul
Mama Tita, Your Light Lives On

Solar Energy From Lifeless Objects

Solar Energy From Lifeless Objects
A collection from my antiques

Oil In Nana's Kitchen

Oil In Nana's Kitchen
I Big Mo...from my cash register....

Born In The House Of Levi

Born In The House Of Levi
A design, concept and rendition in collaboration with my son

Artist In Saint Bartholomew

Artist In Saint Bartholomew
My niece Malen

Bitter-Sweet Memories

Bitter-Sweet Memories
Held at the entrance

Coconut Vendor, done by Carmen Herrera-Uy, early '80's, oil on canvasss

Coconut Vendor, done by Carmen Herrera-Uy, early '80's, oil on canvasss
Reserved for Manang Grace E-M...Herrera

Lotus, Emblem Of Truth And Purity

Lotus, Emblem Of Truth And Purity
By Oscar M. Figuracion Jr.

Keep Still My Jittery Bug

Keep Still My Jittery Bug
Kalachuchi flowers, a reflection....

My veil as a bride

My veil as a bride
Mother of one, surrogate of many

Sunday, June 27, 2010

My View OF Economy

What is this thing called economy?
I believe for a healthy one is refusing some echoes
Of the sounds of their lost identities in the city
They are the whispers of the evil one on Jesus' humanity

Of promising the whole city to him if he worships
Suggested to you through movements, sounds, and expressions
Blocking your way to your motherland
Your own home in the Father's Kingdom

They are around in your presence
Seek protection from the Holy One
They are the virgin souls uncorrupted
Baptized through the Holy Spirit

They promise to turn the stone into bread
They are those who plan for your death as their pension
The killers of your inheritance back to His Kingdom
Fear not, my Soul, I am still your contracted virgin bride

The evil one builds false dreams of promises of a tower
And asks you to jump down promising to be held by angels
They are the ones bidding for your soul
Which they steal with threats forced into your consciousness

Fear not my Soul, for your Mother is around
Protecting you with the Holy Father's presence
Welcoming you into our Kingdom

Saturday, June 19, 2010

The Executive Class

They execute the plans of their Bussiness
For an unending rule of their land
Of obedience to the law of the just
Whom Jesus welcomes to His kingdom

They are trained in legitimate schools
With the embossed parchment diploma as seal
Of receiving honors and all responsibilities
Taking care of the tree planted within the school

They have to have an eye for the undesirables
Who thrust their way to the top
Stealing and cheating their way in
Through threats of violence to your kin

They have to be dealt in the executive way
Tagging and packaging them the legal way
For you don't just sell products
You have to sell your service too

Some hired or casual workers are pests and liabilities
Tag them as your company's waste
Some loyal ones can be sold as recycled containers
But some destructive acids has to be dealt with

They are either sent to prison you trust
Be careful though of the killer general
And of those who misinterpreted their powers
Of destroying food of the people, and enslaving the tillers

Of herding vendors honestly earning for a living
Disregarding the basic value of the land
Posing as the lover of all mothers
Pitiful condition of one who was never shown love

They are the pa-cute over-aged gurang
Seeking a home begging by deception or force
Go seek your own ghetto mother somewhere
Not in my privacy you paroled prisoner

Tuesday, June 1, 2010

Judges And MacThe Knife's

They lurk within your own soul, the vigilantes
Not necessarily within the benefit of formality
Of helpless souls committing suicides and aggressions
Of martyrs and fencers even in your own home

The judges are those who sentence a scam
Claiming to be the god of all
Taking everything into his own hands
The downtrodden comes back as an old soldier

You see them in the eyes of little children
Travelling the dessert again
Provide for their keeping, feeding and learning
They will welcome you back in heaven's soul

Beto-Beto, Beso-Beso

From gambling boys in the streets
Throwing a pair of dice to earn some dime
To carnivals of games pula-puti
Down to the high ends of Casinos

Learning some mathematical formulas
Complicated chains of probabilities
Hired men are working, keeping tract
For an endless humanities

All in books kept for the new generation
Of running around the economy
Everything forgotten, but those I choose
Posing the question back again
Of solving the problem who caused the light bulb's end

Of the source of strength for my Art
My kiss in His church was my seal