by Tomas Talledo
Imperceptible, moving the unmoving ceaseless Tao of Revolution,
The immovable Law of Motion calls,
“Come Li Ta-Chao, come Azad, come Reds now…”
Victory revealed by time, space and causality when burst forth open.
War machines spurt foul operation plans,
But Ho-Chi-Minh’s pond stays Zen.
Still is the tempest waiting, murmuring,
“Nanay Walingwaling, Kumander Posa, Ka Tingting”.
Fools are they who spit at the sky.
Summons of kubing, drums, gongs call over, over and over,
I glimpse of communism in dances of Tumandok highlanders
Where moving fauna totems meld together
In such ancient brave colors of their skin apparel.
While navel gazers amongst us are blind what lays ahead,
So are bourgeois ego lickers and eaters of the dead.
–18 July 2018