There is a gentle whisper, deep inside the heart,
it tries to show the way, for us to do our part.
It’s gentle tugging, to fill our heart with love,
to move in peace, as we live in God above.
To learn to forgive, as we have also been forgiven,
learning to love, makes life more worth the liven.
To walk in His goodness, and to hear His voice,
to be led by His whisper, is only by our choice.
The HolySpirit, strives with us each day,
to listen to His pleading, from the bitterness, walk away.
Those thing’s of the darkness, they’re borne in the heart,
they bring forth a spiritual death, when we give them part.
We know what is good and bad, dark and light,
that gentle whisper guides us, to do what is right.
On the other hand, this driving force is clear,
where there is no love, chaos draweth near.
Where upon the earth do I acquaint new life?
A Spirit who scampers upon a banshee breeze,
Unsure—anxious thoughts taking aim, rife, unmoored
Focus unsharp—a fog on a mountain freeze—trees
Seek hope, its landing unannounced, high and lofty:
A child, clay-borne, raised by morning’s star,
and bearing the velocity of love
Untainted, untrodden, undaunted, unstifled—
What nurtures freedom in a nature made for freedom
Time clicks; a moment slips, forgotten.
Hallowed, sought, bought, fraught—a chiefdom
Berean, listening without ears of cotton
Whispering, churning, turning, burning—wind
A persiflage ingested as thunder rumbles, grumbles
Persistence, resistance—conscripted in sin
There, a cry for wisdom, yet stuck—fumbled
Who? A father, mother, sister, brother—kin?
Progeny, cacophony—perhaps fools on atolls
All, forgotten tenets in interplanetary space
The medicament—far-reaching, teaching bleeding souls
Contrary to prevailing belief: to show no grace
Yet responsible life-stewards, a virtuous gift extols
Greater, higher—hope, faith, and love proclaim the Ancient Scrolls
Thunderstruck
=======
Seen as a collection of spare parts
swimming in close formation
neither fish nor fowl
from a southern hemisphere nation
sewn together as if torn asunder
the amphibian antipodean
from way Down Under
is the odd-looking bottom-feeding
no muss nor fuss
otter-footed beaver-tailed
egg-laying duck-billed platypus
the males of which are venomous
an excellent swimmer
whenever it dives
it closes its ears nose and eyes
altho' a riparian carnivore
electroreception is how it survives
Life in a Jar
I’d like to find a special jar
To put aside some life,
A jar that keeps both face and form,
And stints the scourge of change.
I’d put therein, a rusted leaf,
Or summer’s one perhaps,
To always have the seasons at
The twisting of a wrist.
I’d put therein, my true love’s kiss,
To always know its taste.
And next to that a snapshot of
The world within her eyes.
I’d also save, encased therein,
First cries out to the world;
Of lives conceived through gifted love,
And feeling newly born.
I’d store away the vistas of
Grand aspects, earthly borne,
And let them burn through fired glass
From every lay of land.
Then I would not be far from life,
From where I cannot see.
No, I prefer to keep it fresh
For morning’s light, through glass.
It’s change that writes the script of life
And fleshes out the page.
While time is just a numbered pause
Without a story told.
The men went through the fields and gardens,
Ripping the weeping petals off of flowers
Which had not yet blossomed,
Claiming their beauty was not right.
The men shouted until their voices grew tight and ragged,
Pulling wild horses by their manes to the stables,
Angry that they ran and bucked.
The men sharpened their swords,
And scored one another with gashes and scars,
Each to triumph in the skill of his violence.
The men did all this while the women sat quietly,
Sowing seeds and feeding horses and cleaning blood away,
And then the men came into their houses,
With their daughters and mothers and wives,
And cried and cried and cried that they
Never knew love
I have being sending out telegrams
to forsake my whereabouts,
as a fully qualified survivor
I'm trying to reach your heart
you're laughing at me
chewing on your foibles
You cried like Cinderella
claiming you had no friends
and worse was to follow
You blew out all the candles
proclaiming what is to be done
banished to foreverland
borne to repeat the same error again
Water-borne diseases
Man senselessly increases
With his trembling “No”
To drinks he doesn’t know
Instead of “The firmest”
That portrays “The Dead Earnest”
Water-borne diseases
One hopelessly increases
By not taking The Certified Pure
Or with a bow declining The Impure
Between tap water adjudged pure
And liquor blissfully a lure.
Isn’t affordable to the poor
Bottled water for official tour?
Then, one always pick one up after manicure
Beating the vulgarity of A Moor
And keep declaring for The Pure
For even elixirs that cough cure …
For their not-one-not-two numbing releases
Trifle not with water-borne diseases.
I see the bends in the straight lines.
Convince me it’s water when I see wine.
The lies behind the fake or sincere smiles.
The dirt track road of miles and miles.
The pain behind the smiling eyes.
I see the cruelty and loneliness that you create.
I see unbearable pain borne alive, awake.
No matter what colour their skin or how they spell their names.
Sorrow looks the same in any eyes of any face.
I see the light, I see the dark.
Simple mistakes that tear families apart.
For I am a person who no one wants to see.
Sometimes when I get to know you, you can never know me.
I must see all your fears, understand all your lies.
I must act in fact to remain effective.
For I am a Detective.
Maya
Hypnotic trance
Dance of duality
Joy and sorrow intermingling
Truth veiled
27-October-2020
It didn't need to grow wings, it floats on the breeze.
Or...
If you don't believe science, you might as well pray to idols.
dandelion drift
soft the seeds set sail windward ...
next year's bright meadow
~ 1st Place ~ in the "Hi-Ku (3)" Poetry Contest, Brian Strand, Judge & Sponsor.
~ 1st Place ~ in the "Writing Challenge 3, May 2019, Nature Haiku" Poetry Contest, Dear Heart, Judge & Sponsor.
~ Poem of the Day ~ featured on PoetrySoup.com on May 26, 2019.
In my garden flowers grow,
But I did not plant them though.
Borne on the wind, wild seeds found
Just by chance my piece of ground.
Through the winter months they slept,
Beneath the soil, safely kept.
Then when springtime called anew,
Their time had come, so they grew.
A riot of colour filled my plot,
Wild flowers grew in every spot.
What could a spirit be but lifted,
To see the beauty nature gifted.
Bright burst of light to purge the dark,
Observe the change of vision here;
Rush of new sight that lights a spark,
Nature feels strange in new found cheer;
Emerge from old to a life new.
Apt the light feel as love makes right,
Gain what takes hold in being you;
Attest deep zeal as joy takes flight,
Indulge calm fest with a sure heart;
Now watch how time mellows this space.
Bloom floral zest in lavish start,
Etch vivid chimes that follow grace;
Invite your soul to show you how,
Nurture fond whole that lives right now,
Glimpses unfold where truth endows.
Leon Enriquez
23 April 2018
Singapore
You are a thorn, borne deep in my heart
The prick that sticks me with each breath I take
A tether, whether I want to be bound to you or not
The flame I blame for burning holes in my soul
Droning chants are rants lingering in my mind
Rumblings and mumblings within my sad breast
The wrong kind of song written for those in love
My eyes sting when I try to sing the sweet lyrics
Broken vows spoken; words shattered like glass
The refrain of my pain keeps wounds from healing
Sorrowfully shaken and forsaken, I had to walk away
Your pretense was immense, the shame of your fall
Love was spoiled, foiled because of your weakness
Your reason for treason, based on a foundation of lies
The suppression of your confession has taken a toll
How cruel to fool the one who gave you her heart
No one knows the sure way
Watch the show that sets stay
Set the time to feel space
Void in mime shows a trace
No one part can fit reach
Know the heart each to each
Mind the feel now and here
Know a will in sure cheer
No one tells of this loss
Strain now dwells in odd toss
Heed the nudge of wild plot
Purge old grudge in vain lot
No one comes here with much
A bleak sum prunes as such
Seed firms tree in life's spree
You and me now can be
No one here knows the way
Pain and fear mask the play
Borne again in swift strokes
No complaint can free yoke
No one hears the last poke
Even cheer wears vain strokes
Let's be brief with things sad
Lasting grief can be bad
Sad to say feel thought stray
Here this day with vain way
Leon Enriquez
29 January 2016
Singapore
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