JUST BE YOU
A Praying Mantis
Can’t be a butterfly;
Nor can a moth
Be a hiving be:-
Know that it’s not
What you are,
But who you are: God’s
Unmistakable child:-
Don’t ever strive to be
What others think
You ought to be;
Rather, always be
That great creature
God created you to be:-
Let the cosmic essence
Of your glorious being,
Forever be a shining star,
Enlightening terrestrial Earth
With God’s peace and love:-
Being who you are,
Is God’s divine purpose
Of your blessed being:
The creator of grace,
Peace, and love,
Never has, and never will,
Make a mistake:-
Thus, never attempt to
Exit who and whose you are:-
Oh no, I’ve fallen in love again
Why does this always happen to me?
Love is no bigger than a small apple
It reflects in the eye but beats in the chest.
What am I falling out of love with?
I can’t carry every apple I see.
IN AND OF WILLPOWER
Yes, strong willpower
Is a great thing;
But what is willed,
Requires much work
In order to be attained:-
And such work demands creativity,
And truth of the heart and the brain:-
Finally, if such is truly to be fulfilled,
It must indeed be, of God’s holy will:-
i remember the day love was found,
you and i were all the world had to offer-
when two hearts were love bound,
both listening to the thumping sound
of hearts given to each other-
no-
i’ll never find another lover-
like you.
i thought of our youthful desire,
and how you touched my soft scars
under moonlit teenage stars-
now these lines on my face still yearn
for those gentle hands of fire,
melting into my soul, I feel it burn,
yet they still touch with ease,
i’m begging you, never stop--- p l e a s e...
i craved a garden,
you planted a seed-
a heart that was hardened,
still a heart in need.
forever was granted so long ago,
and you vowed to never let me go.
i needed you then,
i need you now, still-
for i’ll always need….
the lover in you.
CELESTIALLY GRACED LOVE
The day has its sun,
And the night, its moon;
I’m blessed to have you,
Each day and its night:-
For your love is as
The cosmic beauty,
Reflecting the shiny glow
Of God’s divine light:-
As you are the ever glowing
Sun and moon of my heart,
May I likewise be of your heart:-
And may God forever grace us
In this onederful onement of
The oneness of our love:-
It’s whispers.
Can you hear them?
I don’t want to,
but they force me to.
Sitting in an empty room,
with no one—
just a cigarette in my hand.
Every time it touches my lips,
it kills me
and makes me want to avoid it—
I know that cigarette is not good for me,
but I like doing something
I know is going to kill me.
But he likes that I do that—
killing myself, he whispered to me,
saying, “Can we switch places?”
I said, “How can I get into the wall?
You are a shadow.”
But how…
I was talking to a shadow
in a room
completely empty and dark.
The whispers say to me:
“Look at me.
Look at the darkness,
and feel both sides of it
that you don’t think exist.”
I thought something was wrong.
I kept hearing him
until he said:
“Come closer…
to someone else in the room,
because my name isn’t dead.”
When I turned on the light,
I saw nothing
but my shadow dancing in front of me,
my body frozen, watching.
And when I looked back,
something was coming out of the wall
with a cigarette,
saying to me:
“I like doing something
I know is going to kill me."
The lighthouse
alone on the hill
just a tree at its side
its beacon
that light
It casts a long light
in a long blink
and then it's gone
in a spin
to mark the shore within
It sits on its own island
only accessible on low tide
the path a bridge
mercurial moat that hides it
The building is lit at night
as well as its beam
presenting an eerie glow
In the fog it seems
Almost haunted
romantic
so substantial
It's survived tsunamis
wrapped around its base
which left no trace
as they ravaged inland
A sight to see
A hike I intend to aspire
up those circular stairs
to peer out through that light tower
The lighthouse at Battery Point, Crescent City, CA
Why do someone kisses each other
Closes their eyes?
It's because the eyes not really see
It's the mind that really see
The good moments that register.
The mind is like a camera
Only those beautiful experiences
Are meant to be recorded and film.
When the time of dull and remembrance,
Someone able to recall and see those moments,
The past behind and ponder each unforgettable
Best encounter that you have in your life.
Whether love or life experiences is part of story.
Everyone has etches of making a history,
Whether simple, complex and riddle script,
This is life itself that we can never forget
For the rest of our life whether here or never.
Every privilege demands responsibility
To yourself, to your family and to others
The most privilege is to obey and serve God
For we have a soul for eternal salvation
For the soul is boundless and andless entity
Each has his own worth and accountability
Be sure to have an eternal insurance joyfully
Not nashing of teeth in the judgment day
Our title, our wealth, our profession is nil
Unless you are sure to hit the target of life
And that is to arrive your place of refuge surely
Life has given three scores and ten years
To find the salvation of your soul perfectly
For there is always a law of dimishing return
Life comes in this world weak and ends weak
We don't brag of what we have but be humble
For we came nothing and end nothing
But the soul whose real face all at the end
Give accounting and will face the judgment.
The sign of Jesus coming
Is like a woman's labor pain
The pain is interval in nature
Like every hour is in pain
Then in every thirty minutes
Then pain in every five minutes
Then it's time to go to hospital
To deliver the new born baby
It's like in the time of Noah
God reveal His plan to him
People live casually, incessantly
What's wrong with marriage
What's wrong with business
What's wrong with ambition
What's wrong with wealth
What's wrong is that they don't know
That the ark is already finished
The selected one just come in
And all the animals for proginy
And people they don't know
The visitation of the Lord to them
Salvation has now come to those
Who heed the call to repent and obey
Eternal life in righteousness is on the bow
For everyone who just made perfect.
Don't judge,
Be humble,
Be forgiving.
The lofty, abased
The abased, lifted up
Humble heart, justified.
Don't be holy than thou.
He accord with whom humbles.
He's glad with whom have faith.
He who obey the law is blessed.
Respect your heart, mind and soul.
Love your neighbors and yourself.
Give your tithes and offering.
Worship Him in spirit and in truth.
Love your enemy, forgive and pray for them.
Offer yourself as a living sacrifice.
Find salvation while you have still time.
Love God and obey His words to the letter.
I loved you.
I know asking you to love me back is not what love is about. With you I’ve seen what true love is all about. Forgiving you in the gravest of situations and picking up the pieces of us even when it hurts my hand. With you I’ve seen what love is not about. You neglecting my hurting hand is not love.
Dreams of us running wild in the rain, looking into your eyes with my hand in your hair, no horizon, no end…have come to an end.
There are no butterflies, no blooming flowers, no loud love confessions.
When you walked into the garden that day, I expected it to turn from night to day, but you stepped on the grass and it died, it turned to ash, you entered and the colour slowly faded as the fountain went dry. The rose wilt and withered as you walked upto me.
You touched me and I turned to dust, mixed with the wind and gone. And the beautiful plot of my oasis turned to desolate land.
Summer’s End
The sun begins to set a little earlier now—
a gentle breeze brushes past my suntanned face and
I walk briskly on the sand which feels cool beneath my feet.
My pace quickens, like the prance of a Cat on the prowl.
Once home, the trees which line the street on which I live
stand majestically tall. No longer still, they begin to
sway to the music of the gentle breeze which softly touches
and fondles the leaves with a caress that only the breeze can give.
The air envelopes me, telling me it’s cooler than before—
and I run to the place that I call home,
Glad to be sheltered from something I feel in the air—
from a sky whose sun, today, will shine no more.
I pause in the house whose windows openly beckon the freshness of the crisp breeze as it quietly enters, gently pushing aside the ruffled curtains, and as it filters through the rooms—
I suddenly realize, it’s Summer’s End!
What does it mean to be the next flower to fall after the garden fence is reinforced with tears from the street?
OF COSMIC TERRESTRIAL HUMANITY
We were born
Creatures of love,
And for a while
We remained so;
Unaware of knowing
And learning
Anything else:-
Then, as if
By a human-like
Summer solstice,
We tilted
Towards becoming
Creatures of hate:-
Now, we find ourselves,
Being confused, vacillating
Creatures of life, caught
In human-like equinoxes
Of love and hate,
On the terrestrial equator
Of human suffering:
Caught between earthly
Jaws of justice and injustice:-
Here, in the cosmic
Terrestrial nature
Of our humanity,
So much is taught
And learned
In our life’s seasons,
As we bloom and grow
From the womb to the tomb:-
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