beneath the cracking pearl
A witness to the times.
It’s easy to love the Philippines for its beauty, like the beaches, the food, and the kindness of its people. But there’s a version of our country that isn’t found in travel brochures or official press releases. I’ve written these lines to document that side of our reality, and I invite you to bear witness with me. I offer these verses as a mirror to our current times. Please read them with an open mind, for there are truths here that require us to listen closely, beyond the noise of the news.
Movement I: The Eroding Nation
White for the purity that left our shores,
Blue for the peace that fled from every street,
Red for the blood that spills behind the doors,
Where power and the powerless collide and meet.
They sail their gray ships where our fishermen cast,
The West Philippine Sea is turning cold,
Our sovereignty is slipping in the past,
Sold to the highest bidder, bought and sold.
They intrude with hearts that harbor ancient wars,
And treat the surf as if they’re lords of birth.
They plant their flags upon our shores,
And claim a kingdom on this piece of earth.
You did not find this mapped upon the stars,
You have no mandate written in the sand.
Stop looking for your “promised” healing scars,
While carving out your conquest in our land.
Movement II: The Domestic Decay
The meter’s toll has doubled fast,
A parasitic drain upon the poor,
A glowing debt that’s built to always last,
While candles flicker by the bolted door.
The floods surge in, the streets become the sea,
The budget wasted on a false defense,
We drown in debt and lost prosperity,
The consequence of hollow recompense.
The city streets are cold with rising fear,
The crime rate spikes like fever in the night,
The silence grows, the danger draws so near,
We lose the simple luxury of sight.
“I have a family,” the rider writes,
A helmet’s plea against the coming dark,
He prays to see the porch fire’s golden lights,
Before he leaves his final, desperate mark.
Movement III: The Systemic Parasites
The “Silicon Pact” glows with cold, fake light,
They hunger for our water, deep and clear,
To cool their engines hidden from our sight,
While stripping minerals that we hold dear.
The servers drink the reservoirs we need,
Leaving the citizens to face the drought,
Our nation drained to serve their digital greed,
While all our future lights are flicked right out.
The secret coffers bleed their hidden hoard,
Where millions vanished without sign or trace.
The public trust, once vibrant, now is scored,
By funds that never found their rightful place.
A trial borne of secrets and of greed,
To judge the hand that took what wasn’t hers;
For every peso lost to callous deed,
The nation’s long-held patience now incurs.
The men in power walk without a chain,
Their crimes are scrubbed by gold and influence,
They thrive upon the losses and the pain,
And build a fortress of their own defense.
The system is a maze of broken glass,
Designed to keep the honest in the dark,
While those who cheat will always get a pass,
And leave the nation with a barren mark.
The gap between the master and the slave,
Is measured in the steel of gated walls,
We build the structure of our early grave,
Within the comfort of these marble halls.
Movement IV: The Call to Wake
They praise our smiles beneath the rising tide,
And cloak neglect in “strength” to soothe their guilt.
They call it grace, this armor made of pride,
To hide the ruins of the homes we’ve built.
They market survival as a holy art,
To keep us drowning while they hold the line.
For suffering is not a noble part,
But a cage crafted by their dark design.
We work the night to pay for failing days,
We navigate the wreckage of the land,
We lose ourselves inside the tangled haze,
Of power slipping through a tired hand.
The cycle repeats, the actors change their masks,
The script is old and weathered at the seams,
We fail the simple, monumental tasks,
And lose the light inside our waking dreams.
So let the note upon the helmet be,
The symbol of the life we hold so dear,
We claim the light, the future, and the sea,
And cast away the shadow of our fear.
But we are tired of this corrupt regime,
Of endless thieves who pillage all we hold;
We’ve woken from this broken, fevered dream,
To end the cycle and the lies they've sold.
Why I Write
This poem was born from a place of deep frustration and, ultimately, love for a country that is being pushed to its breaking point. I felt compelled to write it because we are living in a cycle that has become impossible to ignore: families are being crushed by soaring electricity costs, the tide of crime is rising, and we are witnessing the creeping loss of our lands to foreign interests.
I look at our leadership and see a system where justice is a commodity, where corrupt officials remain untouchable, and where public funds are siphoned away into shadows while the people go without. From the theater of impeachment trials to the looming impact of projects like “Pax Silica”, which threaten to drain our vital water and mineral resources, it feels as though our future is being sold off in pieces.
Most of all, I wrote this to challenge the label of “resilience.” For too long, this word has been used as a shield by those in power, a way to make us accept poor treatment and suffering as if it were a badge of honor. We’re told to be strong so that we might continue to endure bad governance, but I believe we have endured enough. This poem is my rejection of the idea that we must suffer in silence. It’s time to recognize the cycle, demand better, and stop accepting the unacceptable.
Beautiful insight into some of the daily realities and hardships living in the Philippines , expressing feelings and details global news may not cover or portray- particularly your poem on domestic decay.
I also appreciate the note on the perversion of the concept of “resilience.” Many governments speak of daily hardships in their country as a trigger for admirable strength. In actuality, inescapable difficult realities for people could be resolved by those in power if they truly wanted to. Resilience of a country’s people is often necessary to respond to failures of global governments.
oh my, different countries of origin.. but ultimately the same fate. i’m sending you and your loved ones so much strength.