Poems by Noah S. R.de Luzuriaga

A View on Humanity

Caretakers and killers
Creators and destroyers
A swarm of ants viciously attacking
A colony of termites creating a home
Sturdy as rock in the past,
only to grow weaker over time
Thriving and expanding,
as well as evolving
Always trying to rise higher,
To shoot for the stars
Despite that,
they continually destroy themselves
They are neither predator, nor prey
They are both,
In a strange sort of way.




I Hold These Truths To Be Self-evident:

Children will always prefer play over work.
Life without end is horrible.
Humanity cannot survive
if there is too much hate and greed.
Dogs are cute.
There will always be
pureness and corruption.
Death is always at your door;
Before opening it,
Live life as best as you can.




Untitled

To be like Jose Rizal is what I want,
To serve the Philippines and my people
By showing them the atrocities
Of our corrupt leaders
and other evil men.
To fight courageously
and without regret
even if I'm about to be thrown
to the hungry lions.
To stand and fight
For the sake of my country
And for its people.




A Story

Like a butterfly, she magically flew into the
clouds and entered the heavens, literally. Mark
saw all spirits ascend like that. He was born
with the gift to see spirits, even those that
don't stay on earth.

Mark began to walk home from the funeral. He
passed his friend, Jim. Jim gave his
condolences, the ordinary thing people would
say to those who lost loved ones. After that,
Jim disappeared like all ghosts can.

Mark went to his house's porch, turned the
key, opened the door and entered. He sat on
the couch and shed a few tears.

I wish she could stay with me, thought Mark, then
thought better of it. Mark saw several ghosts
trapped on Earth because of things they did in
their life, unlike Jim who stayed on purpose to
watch over his son. Mark felt somewhat glad
that his dead wife, Lucy, managed to get to
heaven.

He looked at the carpet where Lucy had a heart
attack.

"I love you, Lucy," said Mark to his wife in heaven.

"I love you, Mark."

END


Noah is 12 years old. He is currently homeschooled.

A MAN NAMED PEACE by Noah S. R.de Luzuriaga

A Man Named Peace by Noah S. R.de Luzuriaga 

 Harry was sitting in his small house, completely bored. Suddenly, his doorbell rang. He stood up and walked to the door. He opened it slightly to check who was outside. There was no one there. However, a small blue box , as blue as his eyes, lay on the floor. Harry picked it up and saw his name written on the blue cardboard. He shook it a bit, and heard nothing inside. He opened the cover and saw a little folded note. He unfolded it. It said, Move left now. Although suspicious of the note, Harry did that. Instantly, a big metal thing, that looked like a gigantic bullet, crashed through his roof and landed to his right. Oh my God, that thing would have hit me, he thought. A few seconds after that, Harry decided to investigate. The metal thing had a greenish color, unlike any metal he had ever seen. Harry then heard a ticking noise. He recognized the sound somewhere, but he couldn't remember exactly. At that moment, he recalled where he heard the ticking: in action movies, seconds before a terrorist bomb exploded. Harry ran out of the house as fast as he could. In about thirty seconds, an explosion tore apart his house along with other houses on his street. Harry barely had time to grasp all this when hundreds of completely circular spaceships appeared. Most of them went off in other directions, but two landed near the smoldering remains of his house. Two big robots went out of both ships. They stood near Harry's burning house, staring at it. Harry was then grabbed by a large, cold hand and felt a needle poke his neck. He did not have time to feel anything before darkness swallowed him. Harry woke up inside a round room. There was another one of those robot-thingies in front of him. While the torso, arms and legs looked like Terminator robot parts, the head was just a big dome filled with glowing green light. Harry prepared to fight or flee, when the thing emitted a strange sound. It wasn't like anything Harry expected it to say. It was like the sound you get when you move around microphones too fast. The strange sound stopped, and the robot reached inside a table ( that was floating, much to Harry's amazement ) and took out a syringe. It wasn't like anything humans used. It was more mechanized and electronic. Suddenly, the robot grabbed Harry's shoulder, spun him around, and stabbed the back of his head. This time, Harry felt the pain. “What is it with you and needles!?” asked Harry angrily. “Can you hear me now, Harry Ripley?” asked the robot. “Wait, you can talk normally?” asked Harry. “I injected a translator into your brain. My species' language is now automatically translated into your language,” said the robot. “What are you?” “We are the Fleshless Ones. I am not sure what your brain is telling you right now, but our kind is named because of our non-organic bodies that house our souls.” “Souls?” “Yes, souls. My kind has learned that all organisms are connected through a substance called a soul. They contain every bit of information about that organism. What it is, what it does, its past, its present and, most importantly, its future.” Harry tried to take this all in. He then asked something. “Why am I here?” “Because the human race needs you.” Harry was confused. Harry suddenly thought of the movie, Terminator, again. “I don't get it. Why did you try to kill me?” “I was not the one who tried to kill you. I was the one who sent you the message.” “Why did you save me then? And what am I doing here?” “Because my kind saw your soul and we saw that you would lead a resistance against my kind in the near future.” “Wait, if that's a bad thing for you guys, why are you trying to help me?”. “I and others like me did not want this war. Our world's leader, the Queen, said that we had no choice. We stripped our planet of its resources and we needed more. Your planet seemed to be an excellent choice. However, we needed to eliminate the human race first. The thought of committing genocide is unacceptable to me... to my soul.” “Why did you read my soul? What did you do, check every single human soul on this planet?” “No, we saw this fact in the future of your commander-in-chief, Barack Obama. He said that the fate of humanity was in your hands. Our ruthless Queen then searched for your soul and saw you as the resistance leader.” Harry was amazed that he knew the president. “How come this Queen didn't see you help me in the future?” “I managed to sabotage the machine that could read souls. That way, the Queen can't see what you or I will do.” “A machine? You need a machine to read souls?” “Yes. It is a gigantic supercomputer, capable of tapping into the soul web on a universe-wide scale. We call it the Soul Data Viewer.” Harry took a deep breath and tried to make sense of it all. “What's your name?” asked Harry “Name?” “Yeah, what are you called?” He paused for a moment. “Call me...Peace”. “Alright, err, Peace, what happens now?” “We fight, of course.” Peace gathered some of his friends and they formulated a plan. They received news that a new machine that could read souls was going to be built. Once again, Peace had to sabotage it. He also told Harry to help. “This mission will provide you with valuable experience in the future.” he said to Harry. The mission seemed simple at first. One friend of Peace would cause a diversion, while Peace and Harry would infiltrate the oval facility containing the soul reader. The first part went off without a hitch. Many patrolling guards left to investigate the diversionary explosion several streets away. Harry and Peace entered the circular facility and used bombs that were capable of short circuiting the robot bodies to knock out the guards. Freedom collected a map off one guard's internal database. “The machine is underground. We will have to go there and use this bomb.” Peace took out a bomb that looked like a square. After traveling through several corridors, the strike team went into an elevator that sent them underground. Upon opening the door, they saw a huge machine in the center of the gigantic room. They stepped forward but instantly, a bomb flew that exploded just like the bombs they themselves used earlier. Every one except Harry fell to the ground, stunned. A sleeker, thinner Fleshless One surrounded by a heavily armed Fleshless squad appeared. “You must be the supposed leader of the human race. You are just as pitiable as I imagined,” said the person Harry presumed to be the Queen of the Fleshless Ones. That is so cliché, thought Harry. He quickly grabbed the cube bomb and rushed to the machine. The bodyguards fired at him and one shot him in the leg. Bleeding and hurt, Harry knew that he could not get away. At first he thought of giving up, when he suddenly had a vision of the human race extinct and the Earth stripped of resources. I can't let that happen, he thought. Even if I die, as long as this machine goes with me, the human race will still have a chance. He quickly twisted the bomb, as if it was a Rubik's cube, and threw it at the machine. “No! You'll-” The queen did not have a chance to complete her sentence. The bomb was not in fact a fiery explosion but more of a concussive blast, which was strong enough to rip the soul reader into unrecognizable shreds of metal. It also threw Harry back into the elevator so hard that he heard several of his bones break and he saw his blood flow. With the last of his strength, Harry pressed the “up” button of the elevator. Darkness swallowed him again. He woke up inside Peace's ship, bruised but alive. “If you're wondering why you're alive, my friends rescued you.” Harry turned to face Peace, who seemed fine. “They managed to extract both of us from the ruins. One of them managed to heal you, but I am not so lucky.” “But you're alive.” “Not for long. During the explosion my suit got damaged.” said Peace. “What does that mean?” “My race has no physical organic body. Without these suits, we would be nothing but pure souls. Also, without these suits we would dissipate and die. I don't want to die slowly. My choice is to remove my suit now.” “Isn't there any way to save you?” asked Harry who was becoming quite distraught at what he was hearing. “I'm afraid not. However, I know you won't give up, no matter what our leader throws at you. Goodbye, Harry.” Peace then pressed a series of buttons around his robotic neck. A hiss was heard as oxygen entered the dome head. The glowing substance that was Peace's soul drifted outside the dome and started to die out. Suddenly, Harry stood up and repressed the buttons, causing Peace's soul to drift back inside. “What are you doing!?” asked Peace as he went back into his body. “You need an organic body to survive right? Is it possible for you to enter my body?” Peace looked at Harry's blue eyes. “It is possible, yes. But we'd have to share your body.” “ I can live with that.” Peace then opened his dome again and his green colored soul entered Harry's body. For the third time in a row, Harry fainted. He woke up to Peace talking to him. “Are you okay?” asked Peace, who was inside Harry. “Never better,” replied Harry. “What do we do know?” asked Peace. Harry said, “We fight, of course.”

HENRY CROSS by Noah S. R.de Luzuriaga

Henry Cross by Noah S. R. De Luzuriaga 

 I walked down the road with my best friend Jake. It's two in the afternoon and we had a great time at soccer practice. All of a sudden, the image of detergent and soap flashed in my mind. My Mom told me a few hours earlier to head to a little grocery store to pick them up. “I just remembered, I've gotta get some stuff for my Mom,” I told Jake. “No problem, man. I'll see you tomorrow.” Jake walked home until I couldn't see him. I walked the other way, back in the direction of the soccer field. The store was only a few blocks from there. 15 minutes later, I arrived. After walking in I flashed my hand and felt the familiar surge of energy. The energy flew to a nearby light bulb. “Hello, welcome to the store. Buy something, please,” said the light bulb to me in my head. “I will,” I replied to the light bulb. Now, you're probably wondering what's going on. Well, you see, I can make objects come alive. Not “Toy Story” style, exactly, but I can make objects talk and think. They already are alive, the thing is, they can't talk or do anything. Not unless I switch them on. I found out about my little gift when I was five. The first thing I animated was a small piece of brick. It told me about how inanimate objects have minds, and that there were others like me in the past. Before he could tell me more, however, I accidentally knocked him into the sewers. I never saw him again. Anyway, I learned more and more about my power as the years passed, and I even made friends with the things in my bedroom. Okay, so now that I told you that story, I'm gonna tell you this one. I walked to the aisle for cleaning agents. All of a sudden, two guys wearing hockey masks went in and pointed a gun at the cashier. “Look, here's what's gonna happen. You give us the money or we shoot your head off.” said the robber with the gun. The cashier was shaking in panic. He quickly got the money and gave it to the robber. Meanwhile, I hid behind a shelf where the robbers couldn't see me. I lifted my hand and animated the cashier's desk. The lead robber leaned on the table using one gloved hand. “Hurt the guy's hand,” I said to the desk in my mind. “Can do,” said the desk. In less than two seconds, the piece of the desk that the robber's hand was resting on collapsed, leaving a hole full of dozens of unusually straight splinters. Each splinter managed to prick the man's hand. “Aaaaaaaaah!” he screamed in pain. I always liked how objects could collapse at will. He dropped the gun and that's when I saw the cashier press something, probably the silent alarm. I tried to sneak my way past the robbers, but the other one ( the one who didn't have a bleeding hand ) saw me. “There's a kid here!” I turned around and saw a fan that was switched off. I animated it. “On my mark, turn on,” I told the fan using my thoughts. The robber who saw me began to chase me. I ran to the fan. The robber was overweight so he wasn't fast. I slowed down so he could keep up. In a few seconds, I reached the fan with the robber close behind me. He reached his hands out to grab me. “Now!” I told the fan. Immediately, it turned on with surprising speed. I ducked down and the robber missed me. Instead of grabbing me, the man's fingers accidentally reached into the fan. “Owieowieowieowie!” said the man. In the distance, I heard a police siren getting closer. “Let's get out of here, Mark!” said the splintered robber to his friend. Both of them ran to their car, which was parked a couple yards away from the store. I animated their car, and I learned that it was a stolen vehicle. “It's payback time!” said the car to no one in particular. Instead of driving away, the car instead drove backwards and forwards over and over. After that, I saw it drive down the road fast, stop a bit, and then spin around in a circle over and over again. I could have sworn there was some puke on the windshield. The car wasn't done yet. It turned around and drove directly into a lamppost. The two robbers flew out the windshield and onto the sidewalk. I turned and saw a cop run to the wreckage. The cashier ran out and began explaining the situation in a ridiculously high voice. He looked like he was about to cry. “Thanks, guys,” I said to all my new animated friends as I walked out the store. “Your welcome,” they all said together. I was about to go home when I remembered the detergent and soap. I walked to the cleaning agents aisle and got the groceries. I left a couple of dollars on the splintery desk and I walked home. I only walked a few blocks when I kicked something red in the street. “Hey, watch it Henry! You kicked me once, you won't do it again!” “Brick, is that you?” “Yes, it's me Henry. You've grown taller. Bring me with you. Have I got a story to tell you.” I picked up my old friend and walked home, while he ranted about some adventure he had in the sewers.

COMICS by Noah S. R.de Luzuriaga

(Published in the Winter 2008 # 85 issue of the CALVERT CONNECTION - Newsletter for Calvert School enrolled students. Image above lifted from Marvel Comics.)

COMICS


Balloons with words
Heroes saving the Earth
When I read them I join the fight
Journey

Noah de Luzuriaga
Fourth Grade
Pasig City, Philippines

TAIL by Ralph Pena

I am posting this on the Net for anyone who might have use for it – actors, hopefully, but maybe non-actors too. Do whatever with it. Use it for auditions, for class, or try leaving the messages on a complete stranger's answering machine. That should be interesting. My only request, if it is to be presented publicly, is that you please give credit to the following, either in print, or else verbally. These names must be acknowledged.

Tail received its premiere in New York City, featuring Jodi Lin and directed by Graeme Gillis, produced by Second Generation Theater, with Lloyd Suh as Artistic Director. Tail was developed at the Ma-Yi Writers Lab with the help of Ms. Cindy Cheung.

Thank you.


TAIL

By Ralph B. Peña


The action should progress over a day.

A room. A phone.

An Asian Woman in her early thirties.



SEGMENT 1.

Hi. Hello? It’s me again. I’ve left, two, maybe um, twelve messages. I just get your service. You’re probably out, maybe – and I’ll just throw this out there – maybe, having dinner at that Italian restaurant you like so much, Gino’s I believe is the name, I should know because I took you there, first. I can accept that. Or maybe you’re at the gym, because well, you did mention going three times a week, and today is Thursday, so that could conceivably cover T-Th-S where you would take a day off in between workouts which is the recommended routine by most, well, workout experts, but then it could also mean M-W-F, which would leave you open today, Thursday, and which then forces me to re-imagine why you’re not home. Not that it’s any of my business, really, because I would be the last person to foist any kind of responsibility on you, knowing your issues with, you know, i.n.t.i.m.a.c.y.

(pause)

As you know, I come from, um, Asia. Okay I can be more specific, but I didn’t want you to think that “specific” is interchangeable with “needy.” So okay, I will be – specific. I’m Equatorial. A racial cocktail, with a just a teeny touch of bitters. Mix well and stand back. Hello? Are you still there? Don’t be scared.

No. No. No. I’m being deliberately glib. Inside, I have real… you know, pain. Do you think that’s good? Do you like pained Asians? Or are svelte, smooth, and Third World the only requisites? I’m kidding. I can kid. My father and mother, on the other hand, have no sense of humor. Do I sound judgmental, because I’m not really. Except with Republicans. Oh God, I hope you’re not – because that would never, ever work. My parents voted for Reagan – which is partially, why I ran away from home. My father and I would be at each other’s throats. I would accuse him of being a fascist reactionary pig, and he -- well, he didn’t like that I shaved my head and pierced fifteen different parts of my body. He also said that my anger was privileged, that came it with trade-in options – Reagan today, Redwoods tomorrow. He called it my angst du jour. (pause) Okay, he would never say du jour. (pause) Or even angst. In fact, I don’t think he said much of anything at all.

Hello? Hello?!



SEGMENT 2

(Long pause. She stares into space – then starts.)

So you’re not at Gino’s, and you’re not at the gym, I know that too, because I called all the Equinox, Crunch, and New York Sports Clubs in Chelsea, Tribeca, Soho, well, in Manhattan, really. Just in case. Getting information from these places is impossible – I mean, what’s the big deal? So the ones that wouldn’t give out information, and there were, oh approximately forty branches, I just visited myself in the last seven hours – and that’s okay, really, because I got a good aerobic workout.

You know, I just remembered, I know so little about you – and well, I want to know more. Like, oh, little things: your parents’ names, or, how about where you live, although you did mention, one time, in passing, and you may not recall, but once you said: Westside – which is terrific, because, really, is there any other side? Driving around – I rented a car, I figured that was wise – driving around, I narrowed the possibilities to within a few blocks. I figured, south of 57th, north of Varick, West of 5th, and East of well, the Hudson. That was thrilling!

So I drive – I’ve driven – for not a long time – two, two and a half…um, months is all, every night, between 6 and 10 PM hoping to catch a sight of you – and once, I thought I spotted you, through binoculars, I’ve gotten quite adept at driving and looking through binoculars at the same time, and once – I thought I spotted you – coming out of that new trendy bar called Trendy, is it? I could’ve sworn – but…well.

Hello? I have to wonder, out loud I’m going to wonder – if you’re not sitting there listening to me go on and on… please feel free to pick up at any time – but you might be busy – so I’ll just keep talking. Is that okay?

Good.

I don’t drink – much. (pause) But when I do, which is – RARE -- I can play the ukulele with my feet.

(She holds)



SEGMENT 3

(Still gamely at it)



Hello? Are you listening to all of this? You should be back from Gino’s or the gym.

So, you know, I’m just a regular, uncomplicated, Asian-American-Spanish hybrid. I like James Joyce.

I can cook, and I drive stick. (pause)

I’m equally comfortable in rough country or swinging around in the urban jungle. (pause)

I ADORE, like big, big mammals – you know? (pause)

I would love to live in Katmandu or, say, Tampa. But I’m flexible – very flexible, in case you’re married to the Westside. (pause)

Call me. Please, for the love of Jesus.

I’m going to hang up now.

(She doesn’t hang up)

Hello?

Buh-bye….

Hello?

Well, I’ll just wait in case you’re on your way home… five, ten minutes…

Lalalalalala..lalalalaa.. In case your machine is voice activated.. don’t want it cutting off…

Lalalalalalalalalala….

(She hangs on, silent, eternally, unquestionably – HOPEFUL – as lights dim).

End.

What is it with Mornings

What is it with Mornings
by Alan D. R.de Luzuriaga
August 26, 1993

What is it with mornings

The fresh air and the slow radiance

Green leaves and purple petals

reaching out to the heavens

Their soul thirstily

Wanting, Waiting

For that unseen spirit

Sprinkling life to a new day

What is it with mornings

That makes your eyes shimmer

With renewed anticipation

To sing with the birds

To roar with the mighty engines of man

As they rise from their slumber

To sweep the dust

Of yesterday

And trod

The newly washed path

Of today

What is it with mornings

That makes your eyes glimmer

At times with tears

Not of joy

For the beauty that is the morning

Makes you wonder

On what is to be

For the rest of the day

That can match its splendor

To keep our hearts moving

Our soul erupting

Rapture Eternal

Longer Than the Future

Longer Than the Future
by Alan D. R.de Luzuriaga
May 15, 1993

Groping in the emptiness

Of none-life

Seeking

Hoping

Feeling

What is there

To live for

What is there

To die for

We have

The Future

We have

The Life

To live

Or to waste

A friendly reply

Not to worry

For we shall solve all

All these problems

All in the future

I continue

And say

And pray

Hopefully,we

Can mend our wrongs

Longer

Longer than the Future

Total Eclipse - Jovy de la Paz

Total Eclipse

by Jovy de la Paz

I govern the day; I romance the night

I empower the intellect; I inspire their arts

I am their source; I am their muse

I am your reason; I am your reflection

You are my heart; You are my crown

We never meet; Our shadows kiss

I rise; I depart

The mathematics of our game

Constant sum of fire and rain

Caught in between aerial space

Ushers the rise and fall of empires

Devouring sweet stolen moments

Immortalizing reason and emotion

On new leaves of undying poetry

Never to meet but in discreet

Shadows of the sun and the moon

To rise and soon to depart

Into the huge trembling stage

Of the unknown transformation

CRUMPLED

CRUMPLED
Alan D. R.de Luzuriaga
(May 8, 1993 – Given to my Mom on Mother's Day of 1993)


Crumpled in a womb of warmth
Gentle beats of a caring heart
A cry of pain, a gasp of blind life
A journey of uncertainty

Crumpled in a womb of mystery
The beats and caresses unceasing
A cry of pain, a gasp of a life gone blind
A journey of hope

BOOKS - a cinquain

Cassim (a revised ending for Ali Baba & the Forty Thieves)

This was written by my eight year old son -Noah as part of his homeschooling work. He was asked to write an alternative ending to the story of Ali Baba.- ADRL

---------------------------------------------------------------------------------


Cassim ( A revised ending for Ali Baba and the Forty Thieves )


If Cassim got out of the cave, I would like this to happen.

When Cassim was going home he slipped and fell in a river. He lost all his treasure. When he got out, he saw a yellow feather. He took it and dropped it in the water (by accident). When he found it again, he saw it turn to gold. He decided to keep it.

He travelled but couldn't find his way home. He found a water path that he thought would lead him home. He saw that the feather became dirty. When he washed it and took it out of the water, he did not see a golden feather but a golden wing. He was so surprised but he just kept on walking.

While he travelled he kept seeing his golden wing (once a feather) get dirty and the more he washed it the more bird parts it formed until he finally completed a golden bird.


When the golden bird became dirty, Cassim washed it and the golden bird became a real bird. The bird flew in one direction and Cassim followed it. When the bird landed, it landed on a tree next to Cassim's house. He thanked the bird and the bird flew away.

When he told his wife his story she was surprised.

Cassim became a new man.

The End

Even Titans Do

Even Titans Do
by Alan D. R.de Luzuriaga

Rumbling in the
Sweltering icy chamber
Of longing
Gently comes the strokes of
Images past
Bringing calm to the whirling walls
Putting dreams into an embracing
Sleep
For even men of wax cease to melt
And form into another day
Dark Harmony
A majestic yellow of hope
Leaves and fields of green
For even titans do live
For even titans do love

Awaken

Awaken by Alan D. R.de Luzuriaga 

  Dreams are made of oceans 

Memories of roaring flames 

Atop the sunlit blinding Light locked in eyelashes 

Sunset lips amidst foggish 

Eyes. 

 Circling sounds 

That thunder to an 

Endless waking slumber

Welcome to ADRL Publishing

Welcome to ADRL Publishing.

We invite you to read & view (poetry reading and storytelling vlogs coming soon) the various works posted by our resident writer - Alan Defensor Ruiz de Luzuriaga, as well as featured friends and guests.

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