Precious – Haiku x 3

Delicate fingers

Eyes closed firmly from the light

Your sweet humble cry

 

Every single day

We have struggled together

More than words can say

 

In the darkest night

Your arms reach out to find me

Precious son, you’re mine.

 

 

baby feet

 

 

Dear Readers (I’m humbled that there are a few of you!),

Here’s a simple set of three haikus. Just to refresh our (read:my) memory,  a haiku is a Japanese poem written in three lines with the following syllable count:

First line : 5 syllables

Second line: 7 syllables

Third line: 5 syllables

Haikus do not traditionally rhyme, but as you can see, this one does rhyme a little bit here and there.

Here are some of my other haikus:

Waterfall,

Double haiku,

Striped &

Lather, Rinse, Repeat.

 

Thank you for reading.

Until next time.

 

 

 

Do you see me – Free verse

When you look at me, what do you see?

Dark circles, thin hair, crow’s feet

So many years, I spent searching endlessly

Time slipped through my fingers so quickly

 

When you look at me, what do you see

Are my eyes sad and full of longing?

It’s true, many days, my body controls me

My bones are tired, my mind is weary

 

When you look at me, here’s what you don’t see:

My heart beats red, flushing my pale cheeks

Innocence brims at my lashes, filling me completely

I dream of an eternal love I’m not scared to wait for

Yet I’m done chasing, I trust what God has in store

Ambition lights my spirit, my wish to succeed

The strength and ability to stand on my own feet

 

When you look at me, what do you see?

Don’t see what I am, see what I can be.

 

Dear Readers (if there are any of you still there),

It has been a very long hiatus from this blog for me, but it is my sincere wish to kick start it and get back to poetry. I miss this space so much and crave to write when inspiration strikes and more importantly, even when it doesn’t.

There have been so many changes in my life in this past year. I’ve always been guarded on this blog, but my poems have always been from an open heart and will continue to be so.

Thank you for reading.

Until next time.

Promise it won’t be next year 🙂

The choice

 

 

That charming blatherskite sold this addictive nostrum

Concave paper bundles

Mere ephemera, just good enough to trap us

Mindless eccentric euphoria

We struggle to accept our fates, but it makes us invincible

Ignites our souls, but fails to notify our brains

Infinite possibilities, but really only a few:

Kick and scream, or let rigor mortis set in

Careless episodic waves.

 

This poem has been written in response to Wordle #102 by Mind Love Misery’s Menagerie. Words given were as follows:

 

1.Struggle

2. Blatherskite (a person given to voluble, empty talk. nonsense; blather.)

3. Ephemera (anything short-lived or ephemeral. ephemera, items designed to be useful orimportant for only a short time, especially pamphlets, notices, tickets, etc.)

4. Careless

5. Addictive

6. Nostrum (a medicine sold with false or exaggerated claims and with no demonstrablevalue; quack medicine. a scheme, theory, device, etc., especially one to remedy socialor political ills; panacea. a medicine made by the person who recommends it. a patentmedicine.)

7. Terminate

8. Rigor Mortis

9. Notify

10. Decide

11. Concave

12. Episodic

Use at least 10 of the words to create a story or poem

The words can appear in an alternate form

Use the words in any order that you like.

 

Craving for boredom

A solitary prisoner, but with a purpose

Days passing by, aware of every second

Prayers rise and fall, firm yet yielding

This journey. surely a tough one after all

Restless nights confused by vivid dreams

Hyper paranoid each time this old body creaks

Thankful for every moment of normalcy

Never craved for boredom more than this.

Better

Can two situations that begin the same

Have different outcomes or a similar end

Nobody has the answers except the one above-

He’s not saying a thing, till the right time comes

Hope is a tricky thing, sometimes its like fine sand

Slipping through your fingers, the more you close your hand

We are but mere specks in this universe, our troubles even smaller

But each time we selfishly wish, that maybe this time, it’ll be better.

(If not, please God, make me stronger)

Not all black and white

Within black and white we search

A hundred and one shades of grey

Measure, evaluate, probe and estimate

The possibilities of what is and what may

Sometimes you need to believe without seeing

Jump when that rope seems too short to hold

Even faith as much as the tiniest mustard seed

Could weave infinite rainbows in those cloudy skies.

 

Twelve Stars

Twelve stars converged that night

A breathtaking constellation

Daisies blooming in the inky sky

Pristine white, eternal light

Behold this beauty in the palm of your hand

Mesmerised, stand at the precipice of life

A grateful heart overflows destiny’s wine

Everything has changed, but still remains the same

Each moment, testimony, of your precious name.

 

Liquid Ruby

Reaching under her tucked up sleeves

I tap and palpate, trying to track

The vein I need to puncture desperately

I trace it with my nails

Like some drug addicted fanatic

Who can’t wait for the next high

Throwing her head back, she closes her eyes

Grimacing with the dread of weary anticipation

I maintain the facade of nervous apathy.

The aperture of my needle slips through

Despite the lack of confidence, jittery hands

I feel the soft resistance of spirit soaked skin.

Tourniquet as tight as a whalebone corset,

Blood flows thickly, filling the clear syringe.

My chest swells with empyreal pride

Of a blood crow that discovers the purest liquid ruby

Pooling beneath the rubble of a tortuous battlefield

I wipe the sweat of relief from my brow

Every doctor must have a first time after all.

 

 

 

liquidruby

 

Dear Readers,

Its prompt time again! 🙂 Here’s my response to Wordle #88 by Mind Love Misery’s Menagerie

Here are the words we were given:

1.Vein

2. Track

3. Throw

4. Fanatic

5. Bloodcrow (a person who scavenges battlefields for treasure)

6. Nails

7. Reach

8. Aperture (an opening, as a hole, slit, crack, gap, etc.)

9. Apathy

10. Dread

11. Whalebone (an elastic, horny substance growing in place of teeth in the upper jaw ofcertain whales, and forming a series of thin, parallel plates on each side of the palate; a thin strip of this substance, for stiffening a corset.)

12. Empyreal (pertaining to the sky; celestial: empyreal blue, pertaining to the highest heaven in the cosmology of the ancients. Formed of pure fire or light: empyreal radiance.)

Use at least 10 of the words to create a story or poem

Thanks for reading everyone 🙂

Vita e Morte

Dear Readers,

This is my response to Bonus Wordle #2 by Mind Love Misery’s Menagerie. I went to a really dark place with this write. This is purely a fictional piece, I do not intend to offend anyone. This poem has some graphic themes, please look away if you are under aged.

Here are the words we were given (many words in different languages and a few english words that are not in standard dictionaries)

 

  1. Gnarler (via Yves) A little dog that by his barking alerts his people that there is a burglar inside the house.
  2. Chirping Merry (via Yves) Exhilarated with liquor.
  3. Jabber (via Yves) To talk thick and fast, sometimes to speak in a foreign tongue
  4. Gregorian Tree (via Yves) The gallows.
  5. Honey-peeler (via Yves) A person who manipulates through seduction. Honey-peel is the act of manipulation through seduction
  6. Lentamente (via Bastet) Italian for slowly.
  7. Muore (via Bastet) Italian for dies.
  8. Makisig (via Ladylee) Filipino for handsome.
  9. Malakas (via Ladylee) Filipino for powerful or strong.
  10.  Lazulitopian (via J Lapis) “One who resides in a mental world of blue perfection; flourishing at optimal emotional, spiritual rest when surrounded, submerged in blue—all shades, all day and indigo night.”
  11.  Moje Dziecko (via Pat) Polish for “My Baby”
  12. Nudnik (via Cressida) Yiddish for a pestering, nagging, or irritating person; a bore.

Few Italian words that are in the title of the poem and in the poem itself:

Morto – Dead

Vita e Morte – Life and death

(Hope those are right, I used google translate. Please excuse me if its not correct)

 

When was the last time I heard it

“Moje Dziecko,” whispered

A gentle caress of my soft forehead

My mother, a pale ghost in a tattered nightgown

She tried so hard, but a frail body deceived her

Yellow hair falling out in clumps

Hollow eyes blinking back tears

My Nudnik of a “father” was of no help

Blamed her for her illness, blamed me for existing.

I close my eyes to make memories disappear

Poverty and hunger led my way after “father” left

I cringe at the mirror at my lack of dress for the night

Blue bustier, blue fish nets, blue eyes.. not much else

The customer is some sort of Lazulitopian freak show

Money means commands and instructions to follow.

They’re all different, but pretty much the same

Some just want to get in and out, so to speak

Guilty and squeamish, they can’t look at my face

Jabber endlessly about their hopeless lives (or wives)

Need to be chirping merry to get a decent rise.

So many sadists, I try to steer clear of those

Cigarette butts, handcuffs and things I  hate to think of

They call me a honey-peeler,try to slap me around

The buzz of my taser usually calms them down

My Filipino colleague calls me Malakas

But there’s no other way to live this life.

Once, just once, there was a man

Makisig and intent, he would come by over and over

I told him to stop, showed him my scars to scare him

But he was unrelenting, his touch sent me spinning:

He used the word love.

The promises he made, I started to believe them

With time, I told him that my battered heart was his, forever.

Well, I didn’t see that gnarler again, not ever.

He was the third kind of client, little did stupid me know

The kind that wants to believe its real, like we have a chance

They’ll zip up and be gone when they’ve got you in their trance

My Polish, devout mother, I inherited her eyes and that was all

I’m sure she doesn’t look down at me from heaven any more

Only Hell’s Gregorian Tree awaits a whore like me

Under the weight of my sins, the noose tightening

Lentamente.. Muore.. Morto.