By Virginia Jasmin Pasalo
ROYGBIV, a guide my mother made me memorize to remember the colors of the rainbow, in the same manner that “Man Very Easily Makes Jokes So U Never Pout” ingrained itself in my memory as a guide to the first letters of the 9 planets. The colors of the rainbow may evolve and the number of planets may change as research pushes further into the unknown.
The colors of the rainbow became a political metaphor in 1969, when the Rainbow Coalition, a multicultural movement, was founded in Chicago, Illinois by Fred Hampton of the Black Panther Party, along with William Fesperman of the Young Patriots Organization and Jose Cha Cha Jimenez, founder of the Young Lords, the first of several 20th century black-led organizations to use the “rainbow coalition” concept.
The term is currently used in countries with parliamentary systems to refer to a coalition government composed of several ideologically-unrelated political parties united by opposition to one or more dominant parties.
In 1995, Jose de Venecia created a Philippine version of the rainbow coalition, a converging of “political parties that include the LDP, NPC, Lakas NUCD, and other minor parties to make a solid majority” in the House of Representatives, which ensured his reelection as congressman and consequently as Speaker of the House. Former President Benigno Aquino had his own “rainbow coalition in the composition of the 2013 senatorial slates which includes former political rivals and his first cousin”.
The coming 2022 elections may not exhibit all the colors of the rainbow, as there seems to emerge a genetically modified coalition (GMC) quietly creeping and supported by those who have been exposed to GMOs.
When you tell me
of a blue sky, I see a blue sky
and sparkling blue stars
even in the darkness of night
in the absence of stars
When you tell me
something is red, I see red
I see the body of the devil
before my naked eyes
and I can instantly feel the flames
of hell and the lashes from his long stiff tail
When you tell me of green
I see you becoming a bee
flying over a field of wildflowers
sipping fresh juices, one after the other
and resting, with a bite of an apple
from my hands
your word turns all colors
into the color of hell and paradise,
the colors of my curse and redemption
By your thrust, I see the stars
with every push, I walk the rainbow
to a pot of gold, in a field of colors
moving rhythmically into a dance
divined by the collusion of the gods
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