Holidays are good at the start
you look forward to them beforehand
counting down weeks and days till you go
getting the cases packed for the trip
Then you arrive at the destination
unpacking your stuff, getting ready
the weather decides your enjoyment
rain or sun, whatever it may be
But the day arrives when it's time to go home
you really dread it coming, but it's here
the thought of the end of this place
makes one ponder, to think, even shed a tear
Could you live here for the rest of your days?
you wish it could be, but deep down, no
reality has to set in for when you get home
it's old clothes and porridge, as we say here
Look back on holiday past now memories
enjoyed it back then, but now it's old routine
then once over, wish for next one
life affects us like this; so ever has been
Routinely, like clockwork, like every morning,
I walk to my drive way and enter my pickup.
I start the engine and turn on the radio.
Immediately, horrific and unbelievable news.
I head off to work, not knowing what to expect.
I stare across the airfield of an airforce base.
Not the least surprised, airplanes are grounded.
I arrive at work in wonderment.
Our work highly depends on airplanes.
Today is a none typical 911 work day.
We are instructed to perform our normal
duties of pickups and deliveries, except,
'Do not take cargo to airport but report to
The yard at end of route'.
They arrive at the start of spring,
In the morning light, they sing,
On branches high they dance,
Daringly reaching for the sky, taking a chance.
Emerald leaves sway gently
in the breeze,
A soothing sound spreads among
the trees.
Beneath Summer’s warmth they drink and drink,
In various colours displaying their
beauty, glittering in sync.
Then in a blink comes autumn’s call,
Turning emerald leaves to gold and
red,
Each leaf’s vein bleeds,
And in a final twirl to the ground,
they gracefully fall.
By Zyrool
9/26
As feathered flocks soar across sinking sun,
and dusk descends on a silent sanctuary,
animals arrive at serene springs.
Fluttering feathers disturb solemn shadows;
rich reflections shine as birds brush,
beaks creating concentric rippling rings.
Silence settles on the haunted hollows.
The Team
Life’s quest begins with natural talent to ascend,
On two legs in motion and words for communication.
With parental guidance and skill development by trial and error,
And observation and utilization of education as time progresses,
Every adventure is new and exciting as the senses are invigorated
And where leaps and bounds are greeted with self-satisfaction.
As years pass, physical and mental development focuses
On windows of opportunity that life offers for existence
Through failure and accomplishment in living experience.
Ambitions realized question rewards and behaviours
That require skill sets and demand continuous repetition
Until exhausted; success may not be the resulting accumulation.
The path to the summit requires effort and commitment
Of physical exertion, and mental capacity to attempt the challenge
With a methodical stratagem, deeper understanding, and patience.
Now is the time for reflection: “How did I arrive at this place in time?”
Many believed in your abilities; the joy and pain, setbacks and gains,
But you are not alone; a team coincides behind you every step of the way.
Remeber that toast from yesterday morning honey? Yeah what about it. It tasted like cake what was it. I fried the leftover poundcake into french toast. Hazelnuts and coconuts and whipped cream. I was faboulous Darling where did you get the idea. The gy at Cafe Mongol told me it's what his wife does when there's lefteovers.Editing, and distribution process. Jargon: why are you saying this Honey? Oh nothing I left the sheet music on the table did you move it? Yes it's in the draw by the door. Thanks I found it. Did you know they rebanned the 12-stringed Yatga in Mongolia? No honey, I couldn't give a damn. It's a banned instrument why is one here. I guess I'm some sorta "MUSICAIL OUTLAW" I guess.The Glass Armonica will arrive at the auditrium tommorrow. We might have some troubles do to it's abilty to cause muscle spasms. Yeah Honey! Well I'm off I'll be back after my workout.." Might the threads unravel i will depend on your love for my concern"! Yeah I love you to Honey. Put a block of ice on it Cool it off that way. See you later.
Together at twilight,
Separated at dawn,
Two intertwined hearts,
Two souls lost in silence.
A bed embraces two at twilight,
As they journey into the unknown and unseen.
They arrive at dawn,
Sometimes before the first light,
Other times with the rising sun.
This bed accommodates individuals with differing dispositions;
Its size reflects their choice.
Their togetherness signifies a unity of purpose,
A testament to the strength of their bond.
Yet, a shared bed does not guarantee shared love,
As they wander through a wilting meadow.
What once glowed now casts a shadow,
A shared bed becomes a symphony of gloom.
The geometry of a shared bed does not nurture the garden of the heart.
The nature of reality is clear and luminous
But we miss it because of obscurations
Like a cloud filled sky
Or flawless diamond covered in mud.
We miss it to the point of complete unawareness,
Which means we don’t know who we are,
How we got into our current predicament
Or how to get out.
Getting out is as simple as stepping out
Just letting go at last and popping out,
But it takes a lot of perseverance
To get to that point, so many never do.
And so the journey begins
A journey of discovering just how ignorant we are
And just exactly what we have been ignoring
So assiduously in our foolish bliss.
Breaking through is essential
And the natural result of earnest inquiry
But it takes effort, one-pointedly determined
To arrive at the effortless ineffable moment.
And when we do…
The sky opens to reveal its natural radiance,
Unsullied by clouds, none other than,
This radiance condensed into its own veil.
(5/1/26)
The beach beckons to me
I arrive at the beach, my soul is clouded
I take a deep breath, as my bare feet are wet
Waves wash over me as I breathe in the salty air
Tiny droplets of stress roll off me like sand crystals
I am now cleansed and my soul has cleared
These times when there is so much hatred in the world
I am grateful for the words of Maya Angelou
which always help me cope:
Love recognizes no barriers.
It jumps hurdles, leaps fences,
penetrates walls to arrive at its destination
full of destination…
full of hope.
No noise we make,
Walking in line as to fit in with others,
No words I dare speak,
As to nobody to hear..
We leave as if a routine,
Walk to the car, others follow suit,
drive away as it’s only a building,
places to go, things to do, life doesn’t stop..
Arrive at home, perhaps the park to take a quiet stroll, this has become my church, a lonely empty bench calling my name, is thus my pew?
Ducks busily looking for food, GOD will provide, who will feed my empty soul, no judgement no liability here, for Our GOD the Father breathed life into MAN, made squirrels, birds, the squirrels and eagles to soar high above the sky to bring joy to HIS daughters and sons of HIS, My empty soul thus falling down my cold winter face, “Thus is my daughter from which I am PROUD”. I hear, see your hurt and sorrows deep within your Soul, I am with you thus very moment, Lean on Me my child, let me wipe away your tears”.
Darkness is upon thus park of which is my church, another day is drawing to a close, sane time same place My Child, Mass is ended, Go in peace to love and glorify my Name.”
Seize or be Seized
I wake 6, sleepy
I wake up I will win I feel this deeply
I will not let them take my joy
I am not a toy
I arrive at 8, awake
I will win and take,
Take this day,
Take the suns golden ray
I sleep at 9, victoriously
I took the day it did not take me,
I won today, I will tomorrow
I will win and swim not drown in sorrow
'Hospital- this Way' is my familiar street sign,
I park my car, then step out onto dew soaked grass.
Cars whiz past, engines roar in unison.
My footsteps echo onto the pavement as I walk.
Brisk walking strides propel me toward my workplace.
Magpies, in the trees warble their morning greeting.
The crisp clear air bites my uncovered fingers.
People pass by, some ignore, others smile,"Morning"
At the traffic lights I wait to cross, Green Man, my turn
More birds fly overhead, destination unknown.
Around the corner, another cross over-
I stop, take in a full breath, exhale,
Marvel at the feeling of just being alive.
I arrive at the hospital my workplace.
You will say something unexpected,
a sudden potency will bruise my blood.
I mention an ordinary thing,
you show me how my words are clouds
beneath your skin.
An invisible tissue
connects our common language.
I imagine the tympanic bones
of our ears as they converse
in contrary vibrations,
duets that we sing from different rooms.
You say an odd thing
which I cannot translate.
I comment upon something
you have no knowledge of.
In-between the words
campfires ignite
in synaptic junctions.
Eventually we arrive at an understanding,
practice a deep listening
ignoring all dictionary meanings.
85.
My 14th Leaf
Picked thee from rush day
About New Year, hey
So end in fourteenth
Not on leaf thirteenth
Front house “euphorbia”!
To us it belongs
Despite many thorns
Few people out here
Perhaps to drink beer
Elder relatives
Twelfth month – thirty-first
Year's final outburst
Twenty-Eleven
Has come to an end
Last sunlight ‘bout six
On plant's row outside
Along the roadside
Leans on bamboo fence
Beside wooden bench
Just in front our house
This year's Toladas
Arrive at its last
Turning point it is
To next year's new leaves
Oh Happy New Year!
-12/31/2011
(Dumarao)
*My Toladas Collection
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