Pilipinas
Pearl of the Orienta beauty beyond compareno money can scalewhere homey smiles can be seenfrom the mountains to the seas
Image: Philippine Stamps
Day 15 of NaPoWriMo asks us to write a poem inspired by postage stamps. Since I’m not familiar with the ones from International Philately, I’ve decided to choose one from my country. Here’s a tanka.
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the girl in the mirror
i want to crawl inside my own skin down to where the deepest cut reachi want to rip my rib open see if the hearts still beatsi want to map each line on my soles trace every mountains and seasi want to peel layers of my calloused hands read what stories they hold
i heave. i ache. i choke.
i want to know the girl in the mirror— examine all her detached pieces kiss all her rosewood wounds
Image:…
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sleepless
i lie awake snuggled in your scentcoiled in reveries like a slumbering serpentstreaks of light invade my domainthis reality, an unwelcomed eyestrain
the sun and its mocking glareall my unanswered prayersthe flat bed of daisiesall my endless autopsiesthe blood-stained dreams-bitterall my anger aglitterthe little, half-baked liesall my nameless battle cries
i lie awake enshrouded in apathyashamed…
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Kassandra
she, who entangles menwith her nectarine lipsand sinkhole eyes,mouth full of sunsets,curses and lies
she, daughter of Priamwho angered the godswith her existenceturned her fate around—an act of vengeance
she, retribution incarnateblood spills in her wake,mildewed flowers set aflameplanets mourn, forests weepa prophetess crowned in burial wreaths
this time this will be no warningno stones to…
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Suspended
My wings are tired, no roses to rest.
Day 11 of NaPoWriMo is a breather. We are challenged to write a monostich, which is a one-line poem.
Image Source: Favim
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45,000 letters of love — or was it?
45,000 letters of lovefor a life short-livedshe was a silent IT girl at the center of gossip they pried her openleft nothing unturned from her haughty behaviorsto her gods and demons 1930s gave a taste of freedomthe silent IT girl has found her voice broken free from the world’s scrutinyjumped around from party to partythey said I was a madwomanif this be madness, let me be one
Continuing on…
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Ode to a Cup
In the calloused hands that cradlethis drinking vessela chain of memoriesbegins to arisefrom fragrant brews—majestic muse of morn,to the nature’s spring—life’s most sacred pourIn this household you comein different faces:ceramic, translucent, synthetic, metaldifferent in sizes, shapes, and designs yet one and the samein function and desire From your mouth,my mother drinks her dawn’s ritualwhile…
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The Forest That Time Forgot
there used to be something herestoried sentinels carrying secrets of oldthe earth laced by their gnarned rootsdappled sunlight carpeted the forest floor
amid these towering giants,a tapestry of life flourishes:from the curious plants never seen beforeto the strangest denizens that call this woodland home
here, time stopsdreams take flightpeace resides
used to.
Image: Unsplash
A late entry…
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Death of a Siren
she no longer desires to allureyou may pass — return to the moorthere will be no melody from this deadly songstressesher wounds have been dulled by the salt
somewhere Persephone laughs with Hadesfor the maiden who drowns in the weakest of wavesthe verdigris sea stretches across her sadnessas the day gives way to a lavender storm
feet bound on multiple pinionseyes a panoply of kindness and…
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Vignette: On summer mornings
you came in golden pools of sunshineand i get through another dystopian dayi forget the the world and its obsessionswith your sweetest melody
oh, love, will you please stay?i could use a warm hug and some birdsong.
It’s Day 2 of NaPoWriMo and here I am thinking of summer mornings.
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Warzone in the sky
Do you know what fireworks evoke? The beauty of breaking. In lighting up only to burst against the dark sky — to scatter, to fade, to bring a smile.It reminds me that just because some things are not meant to stay, it doesn’t mean it can’t beautiful. The seasons. Day and night. Friends. Childhood. Life.My hand reaches out to catch a tiny pebble, wishing that heartaches are like fireworks too.…
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all the selves in me are tired
i keep versions of me in a lockettuck it close to my beating heartfrom the 15 who wished to fit into the 30 who can’t tell pleasure from painat night, these selves kiss each other’s woundslay their pains on sun-dried poemsgather ’round the tear-stained pillowas they hope for a better tomorrow
Image Source: Unsplash
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i’m saving myself this time (2.0)
i am no longer your old playthingthat craves for love in the shape of canine teethi won’t allow any mortal blunderfrom your heathen touch or your rabid kissi have emptied my marrows of your beingtake away your godless sacrilegei have shed my old skin and has risenthis broken shackle is my apotheosis
Image Source: Favim
This is the expanded version of my earlier post, i’m saving myself…
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Rue grows on her crumbling bones
don’t trust the poetwhen you see her laugh ‘neath the mocking moonthe bruises on her skin never healedand the twigs still break under her feet
don’t be fooled by her innocent eyesfor she carry with grace her inherited woundsher doubts aplenty — she never sleepsand the morrow is still one more labored breath
the blush orange rosesthe wide smilesthe outstretched handslend credence to her…
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Quick Notes: Have a Little Faith by Mitch Albom
Genre: Nonfiction/Religion/Philosophy/MemoirCopy: PaperbackRating: 🌕🌕🌕🌕🌖
They said that each of us must have at least one book that we will reread at different stages throughout our earthly life. I guess, for me, that book would be Mitch Albom’s Have a Little Faith.
I finished this book back in 2016 as a part of that year’s Popsugar Reading Challenge. It was under the category: “A book that…
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Book Talk: On Gibran and the beauty of making progress
Hello, everyone!
We’ve finally turned a new leaf with the onset of the year 2024. As we begin a new life, I hope the universe guide us all to the path that leads to the fulfillment of our dreams. What’s on your list?
As for me, I actually do not have a new one. I am still ticking off checkboxes from years of unmet goals and plans. But that’s okay. I always try to remind myself to do things at…
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Mt. Madjaas: Aches, heartaches, and the steps we didn't take
It’s easy to think and say “circumstances have been against me” when things don’t work for us. Easy to rationalize our actions and factor all the ifs and if onlys that contributed to our defeat. But, truth is, deep in our hearts we know that all these are nothing but just sugar-coated excuses.
Trust me, I learned it from experience. My recent climb to Mt. Madjaas taught me this.
Mt. Madjaas is…
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