Witty words keep me sane
A giggle eases, life’s pain
When times are trying
Laugh through the rain
Reroute the grooves
Soften the grain
With faces stiff
A snooty drift
Good humor sees
Life is a gift
Minus a grin
Hard work won’t win
May spot the crowd
But won’t fit in
So when you choose
Smile over frown
You’ll lift the blues
A joyful sound
I found a blade beside the rose,
its silver kissed by morning’s close;
It caught the sun as if to keep
the fire warm while earth still sleeps.
It did not stir when I drew near,
nor tremble with a hint of fear;
It seemed to watch, in patient grace,
the wind that touched its polished face.
A vine had curled around its hilt,
like memory round the things we’ve built;
And rain had carved, in tiny streams,
the stories only metal dreams.
I reached to lift it from the ground,
and heard a low, unshaken sound—
The whisper steel will sometimes say:
“My edge was honed for more than play.”
Yet still it let my fingers hold,
its weight both steady, warm, and cold;
And in that moment, I could see
the storm it was, the calm it’d be.
Misty clouds fill my eyes,
After you stabbed my heart,
With a blade forged in hate.
Pain oozes out like blood,
But neither red nor caked –
Yet it outlives all thought.
Before a misty morning mirror
above a half-filled basin
such cold water was I braving
simply to lave my face in
but the coldest cut of all
and it only hurts when I smile
I severely slit myself while
I was busy shaving
but did my frozen fingers fumble
or was it just a rusty razor
which sorely needs replacement
that figured in my defacement
as there were many a slip
'twixt blade and lip
haiku contest
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submission: 26/5/25
mango
sun kissed blessed fell
tough smooth skin blade slashed, dripping ~
rip hair juicy sweet
A dagger’s kiss is cold and clean, But betrayal carves where none have seen.
It does not bleed, it does not scream, Yet haunts the soul in every dream.
A wound that festers, black and deep, A secret ache the heart must keep.
The hands once warm now twist the knife, A silent end to faith and life.
The tongue that swore in silver tones, Now drips with venom, sharp as bones.
A promise shattered, glass in veins, A love undone by whispered chains.
The eyes that swore they’d never stray, Now watch as hope is stripped away.
A wound unseen, yet felt so raw, A phantom claw that grips the jaw.
For daggers rust and wounds may close, But betrayal lingers—no one knows.
It wears no face, it speaks no name, Yet burns the soul in silent flame.
The rains are here, relentless as ever
The grass blade is excited like never
The season of hibernation is over
Swirling in water, as a duck dumpling
in sauce
The blade of grass has come home
A rich gourmet of moisture and nutrients
Thrusts the roots, taking its journey southward
And the shoots going northwards
The grass blade has taken its place.
As the rains continue in its season
The lush of greenery fills the reasons
Natural beauty in lyrical passion
Paradise in a paradox, Laying among
the lilies.
Every glance is a sharpened knife
aimed at a love getting harder to hide
my hand splays out, gripping your waist
the blade piercing flesh, desire misplaced
the urge to hold tighter never leaves
leaving me colder than fallen leaves
a body drained, its warmth set free,
bloodless, breathless—cut by need.
when love was scarce and bitter-spun,
i craved the warmth of anyone.
no silver spoons, no golden light —
just hungry hands that learned to fight.
i licked the steel of sharpened lies,
and swallowed tears in my disguise.
the blades that cut, the wounds they made —
became the price my heart had paid.
yet still, i sought what stars conceal —
a fragile hope that dared to heal.
through shadows deep and echoed cries,
i found the truth in shattered skies.
love is not kind to those who crawl,
it tempts, it breaks, it takes it all.
but in the dark, i found my name —
and rose unburned from blackened flame.
darn it~ I cut the grass too short
Your laughter haunts my lonely nights,
Memories echo in empty halls,
Each whisper stabs my aching heart,
Once we soared, now shadows fall,
A friendship lost, a love undone,
In silence, tears become my song.
The beauty in a blade of grass is
No matter how many times
You cut it down,
It always rises again,
Growing taller than before
It never gets discouraged.
The limericks piled in his yard
Made mowing and maintenance hard.
The blade would get stuck
When nonsense it struck,
The handle from hyperbole jarred.
Bless me, Father, for I will sin
And go against your laws
But the winds of change are blowing
I must pick up the cause
At break of dawn I'll march to war
My sword will rise again
For our faith will be no more
Should our foe prevail
Sekigahara calls for me
To fight that raccoon fiend
But save me while I'm falling
Christ, my bosom friend
God of Mercy, I'm in your care
Your grace my strength to lift
This cross, your gift that I must bear
Along my battle flag
- In the voice of: Konishi Yukinaga (1558 - November 6, 1600), to Fr. Pedro Gomez, SJ.
-- The Battle of Sekigahara, 21st October 1600
* "that racoon fiend" refers to Tokugawa Ieyasu, who is often derisively referred to as tanuki (raccoon dog) by detractors.
Feeling like a blade of grass,
Trampled on as strangers pass.
Unwatered, left to nature’s whim,
A fragile life, a light grown dim.
Beneath the weight of careless feet,
I bend and break in cold defeat.
No voice to cry, no strength to stand,
Just one small piece of dying land.
The sky above, indifferent blue,
Shows no concern, no guiding clue.
The rain’s a hope, a fleeting ghost,
A memory of what I need the most.
The sun’s harsh rays, they burn and blind,
A relentless force, a cruel bind.
I thirst for life, for drops of grace,
But find no comfort in this place.
In shadows deep, I try to grow,
But darkness only feeds my woe.
Each day, a battle, each night, a test,
With weary roots, I seek some rest.
My neighbors fall, one by one,
Beneath the weight of scorching sun.
Together, we endure the plight,
Helpless in the endless fight.
Mother Nature, distant, cold,
A cruel caretaker, if truth be told.
We cling to life with desperate grasp,
In silent pain, our spirits rasp.
Feeling like a blade of grass,
Walked upon, as moments pass.
In helplessness, I find my place,
A silent cry, a fading trace.
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