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Josefina Costales Poem
To catch a sunset cresting low over the sea
as the winds are blowing clouds above the waters
while the waves unfurl and curl to shore so gently -
something regal catches your breath and it falters.
Rising sun is burning the morning mist away
flowers open to blossom in exquisite grace
the world welcomes the warmth basking in it all day -
something regal wraps the earth in tender embrace.
At night the darkness shrouds the heavens with silence
a lost corner of paradise spewing stray dreams
melancholy hovers disrupting violence
something regal promises a dawn with sunbeams.
Mountains sit impassive, aloof, cold in winter.
Something is regal in icy whiteness weather.
Jjote 010821
Copyright © Josefina Costales | Year Posted 2021
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Josefina Costales Poem
Just a smile, a muffled snow-quiet one,
deafening in its silence when hearts ache
at parting, and dreams crash on barren shores -
the ebb and flow of love-tides cease to surge.
The sails of our ship were whiplashed by storms,
still I held on to dignity unfazed,
a saving grace biding steadfast with me,
and I was not sucked into your abyss.
We played a circle game of loves and hates,
a love-tide maze infinite and daunting,
no sense chasing after dreams beyond reach.
We shrugged off cloaks of false sensuality.
Love’s intoxication have been heady,
but like tides in seas battled by tempests
we were carried away from safe anchor,
struggled futilely and not finding land.
Now our love-tides are soothing, finding calm,
conflicts resolved, forgotten, forgiven.
The future beckons - an alluring path
for us to explore. We have moved on.
@jjote 022521
Copyright © Josefina Costales | Year Posted 2021
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Josefina Costales Poem
In thickened woodlands there are hidden falls
noticed by few and you stop - nature calls,
you gaze rapt in wonder as waters flow
into the depths of caves no creatures go.
If you have wings, fly swift with the current
feel exhilaration with the torrent
but reaching the bottom of this chasm
you know this journey is no phantasm.
From on top, their depths seem like an abyss
but the mighty falls turn streams bathed in bliss
swirling lazily through thick banks of moss
where waters run deep in rivers to cross.
A final grand drama Nature now plays
rivers curtsy to the seas so we praise.
@jjote030824
Copyright © Josefina Costales | Year Posted 2024
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Josefina Costales Poem
(writing for the voice of my son who has terminal illness)
Reality is searingly intimate. But they say anguish,
woes and sadness are emotions best shared.
I am not saying I enjoy lamenting on them or heaping
tribulations on others if I can manage these on my own
with grace, tranquility and acceptance.
Scouring out the dregs of my past is a notion
unlike exploring uncharted territory, but like pain,
I want to stare at it in the eye, no flinching.
Yet I ask, when did all go wrong; when did the roads
become forks and twists, and steep cliffs.
But I could then peer on tiptoes over the edge, unafraid
to take leaps of faith, always landing on my feet upright.
When did the moment of divergence start?
Life then made sense. Challenges I met with daring
and a tenacity to execute and perform to perfection.
There was relevance in chumming the waters,
cloaking them with the grace and finesse
that accompanies experience and excellence.
Work was not a drag - I thrived in the eye of storms.
Memories of the past are now more vivid than images of the present -
I sense that everything seems to pause in a single still moment.
Riding on motorcycles like the devil was on my tail,
leading my co-riders zigzagging on dangerous trails -
the idea of death was a vagrant who wanders another street.
How I wish time is fungible - what I would give to be where I was,
how I was, had been, always there, complete and fulfilled -
satisfying needs, goals, ambitions - been there, done that
is not my cliche.
My heart is a stuck sled in the middle of a sand dune.
Although I am in a world of stasis, expecting nothing,
I realize I have this clarity of thought and unclouded focus
to shed fear and panic as I stare death in the eye,
so I can leave this world on my own terms.
I want to dodge self-pity, dwell on the serenity of acceptance.
There is an ethereal glow in the night sky -
it should be an insanely beautiful vista out there beyond life.
@jjote031024
Copyright © Josefina Costales | Year Posted 2024
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Josefina Costales Poem
We spend our lives from solstice to solstice,
creatures caught in a trap hidden by darkness
stuck in a wheel of fortune spinning in no direction
in its endless circles we lose our way.
Despair prevents our souls from healing
all through the solitude of night.
We spend our days like it’s forever night
concealing grief from solstice to solstice,
no hand reaches out in gracious healing.
Moonbeams try in vain to pierce the darkness,
we stumble through a forest losing our way
Like hound dogs running in blind direction.
Heaven has closed all roads that lead to its direction,
so we slumber dreamless, awake through the night,
hugging pain the comfort pillow life brings our way.
Our hurts multiply with each passing solstice,
our days strewn with muck and darkness
in stubborn silence we cast aside light’s healing.
Storms cannot quench earth’s thirst for healing,
Sounds of thunder and lightning beat in all direction.
We sink deeper in a crimson sea of darkness,
struggling under the waves all through the night.
Rain pellets overshadow light in summer solstice
turning into rivulets of water to flood the way.
We stare in apathy at disasters that come our way,
they only aggravate our wounds beyond healing.
we bother not to survive in winter solstice,
as flotsam pieces of our lives scatter in no direction.
We lose our strength and surrender to the night,
under an ominous sky masking the eve of darkness.
We moan and beat the air in the invisible darkness,
feeling no urge to find our feet as we fall on our way.
All the world is foggy and detached as the night,
Ugliness abounds and searches not for healing
We lose step with life’s senseless direction.
while the stakes cut deeper from solstice to solstice.
Each coming solstice may usher more darkness
we need direction to guide us on our way
bring healing to our hearts in the hollow of night.
Copyright © Josefina Costales | Year Posted 2015
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Josefina Costales Poem
the birth
a partial breeze.
gentle wind teases air,
carries fine rain into my face –
as tears
Slowly,
sky curtain rises to unveil
the promise of a storm.
a hurricane
unfolds.
wind shakes
all elements.
nature’s manic drama
begins – thunder then lightning soaks
darkness.
Rooted
to my seat, I breathe my fill of
storm’s wrath. Mere mortal peers
on the edge of
danger.
Copyright © Josefina Costales | Year Posted 2015
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Josefina Costales Poem
He glides
his skates swishing
in a flurry of ice,
caressing with slow movements; mere
foreplay.
Silence
compels the crowd
disguises excitement
Great expectations fill the air.
All watch.
He stops
at center ring.
Ice gladiator all set
to make a kill gently, with grace.
Grandly.
Then flips.
Perfect landing!
He hears the crowd’s applause~
incense daring him show his skills.
Dazzling.
Teasing
with his body ~
a hypnotic magnet
becoming a blur of colors.
Blending.
Music
goes mad as he
circles with dizzy speed~
a human whirling, spinning top.
Gidddy.
Floating
as in a dream
one cannot get out of.
Now he’s a leaf falling in slow
motion.
Still more
he builds into
a climactic finish~
a tornado that goes in a
frenzy.
He drops,
slips on his foot;
loses balance and dives
his nose flat on the cold ice. All
are stunned.
Copyright © Josefina Costales | Year Posted 2015
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Josefina Costales Poem
I go in search of an elusive Muse.
Her flight has left my vessels cracked and dry.
Shafts of moonlight bathing o’er savannah,
radiates no mist of magic in my mind,
where once we danced in step with wildest drums
and from my pen out flowed the words with ease.
An artist on a trapeze I swing with ease,
I ride a flying carpet in the arms of my Muse,
conquering worlds to the battle echo of the drums.
Never did I dip my pen in ink all dry,
I lived a fancy dream world in my mind,
exotic fantasies in wild savannah.
The moon a giant pearl in my savannah,
with wind a soothing breeze, I slept with ease.
The warmth of night shadows reassured my mind,
vanquished my phantoms as I journeyed with my Muse
ever gracious, her gift jars never dry.
Words poured out unceasing from her drums.
But now I feel the silence of the drums,
menacing clouds float over savannah,
the grassy plains once green, now are dry.
A flock of birds have plucked my words with ease,
like leaves they gather to lay at the feet of the Muse.
I am a scarecrow left bare and empty of mind.
My pen drags, no words come out my mind,
the ghosts of dead poets beat the drums,
marching, losing rhythm, without my Muse.
I beg the wind to find her in savannah,
bring her back to me, my pain to ease,
to cease poetic juices from bleeding dry.
My riverbeds continue to run dry,
without my Muse, I know I’ve lost my mind,
I can’t afford to leave the Art with ease.
In mysterious chambers deaf to the drums
I retire to salve my wounds in deep savannah,
and dream of waking up at the touch of my Muse.
I wait for my Muse, though she has left me dry,
In savannah I shall stay until my mind
hears the drums, again to write with ease.
Copyright © Josefina Costales | Year Posted 2015
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Josefina Costales Poem
my grandson wakes up early, excited
on the first morning of our weekend trip.
look grandma, a boat, a bridge...
can I go out and wade in the water
run across the bridge, then ride on the boat?
i'll be good, eat my cereal, drink my juice, please, please.
(not necessarily in that order, I thought. I'm not his mom
so thank goodness, it's not my decision to make.
but his mom and dad are sleeping late, and grandma
is as excited as he, or never sleeps late anyway,
life is getting shorter by the day, why waste it
when very soon, sleep will take forever)
so much activity my grandson is planning for his day,
I'm already exhausted, just thinking of it -
all I want is to soak in the quiet stillness
this peaceful collage of muted hues
the sky, wanting cloud and color, shark-grey,
blue-white and haughty, all blurring together,
in the pale thin light of a new day -
empty, innocent - as yet unsullied -
a universe of somber mystery...
but he is just a child
it will be a lot of years more
when such thoughts will creep into his mind
prefer silent moments than the boisterous
and in his innocence now, as yet unsullied,
I revel in the luxury of his universe.
-
Copyright © Josefina Costales | Year Posted 2015
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Josefina Costales Poem
[- with 2-4-6-8-2 syllables in a stanza]
Calm sea
curves in white frill,
as gentle, lazy waves
dash against each other, playing
catch me.
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Scrawny
cats gather close.
A bevy of them meet
on the gravel sand discussing
conquests.
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I learned
to watch the sands
of shifting friendships sink
like tides that ebb and flow with wind
pushing
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Her voice
a cruel thrust
plunged deep into his mind.
cold shivers made a ladder of
his spine
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Light spills
breaking shadows
weaves a patchwork of hues
painter’s dreamscape etched into his
palette
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Mountains
with crests of snow
look somber and sleepy
as distant mists of dawn start to
creep slow
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Copyright © Josefina Costales | Year Posted 2015
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