Now there once was a man called Obama
who did more grievous harm than Osama.
At Hillary’s coax
they conspired a hoax
so coming your way is some bad karma!
Written: August 2025
If given the chance, I might count
The fleeting times when
I fought to sidestep
Gazes that lingered too long,
Fingers brushing like whispers,
Heartbeats harmonizing in tender defiance.
For I fear
The gravity of such moments—
They pull and tether me
To places I dare not dwell for long,
Where shadows dance with memories
And silence speaks your name.
But even if the stars conspired again
To give me an escape,
I would not take it.
I won't.
For these chains of yearning
Are wings in disguise,
And I've learned to soar
In the space between heartbeats.
-
From time to time I feel low,
Low in self-esteem, low-keyed,
lowest man on the totem pole,
I have acrophobia, I often
descent to a lower level…
The higher I aspire
The lower I fall.
Life mostly lowball me
as such, my spirit keeps a low morale.
Maybe I come across as
a low bred and lowbrow person.
Conspired by my stars and the moon
My sea always rests at a low tide.
Shell-shocked by my low-minded destiny,
My fate and I must have
a high level showdown soon;
In the meantime,
I'll keep a low profile.
Be that as it may,
My soul is not doomed to wander
in the netherworld forever,
I am the patron of high hopes,
high cholesterol, high blood pressure,
and high sugar level.
I am also a high-strung person,
But, thankfully not of any highfalutin jargon.
Shy of highways, I frequent
the by lanes and side streets.
After the high-handed takeover by Time,
I live a high-pressured life.
Methinks, now is the high time
to lay down the highlights of my life.
From the descent and ascent of life,
this I have learned:
Not to gaze so high as ambition,
And to look no lower than despair.
madhouse of a ménage à trois —
the bawdy chamber of the blitz,
where three depraved darlings conspired in pagan rituals,
their lover's lament a discordant dirge amidst,
detritus of a bygone era,
a winter's eve of wreathed blossoms and withered dreams,
in this sterile hothouse of sentiments,
tender shoots of succulents twisted in grotesque abandon,
vault where love and decay convened in diseased romance,
till the one dawn ecstasy rose like cold air,
and winter's chill singed the hard prickles of their passion,
now vacant bloom, fossil of wounds,
trailing anguished bellflowers in mournful amusement.
Nothing lasts forever,
But the best that we can do
Is respect the writing on the wall
And listen to our “true.”
So Rafael Nadal will soon
Retire from his sport
And all his fans are saddened
By this “It can’t be!” report.
But tennis is a young man’s game
And Rafa gave his all.
Still, injuries and aging bones
Conspired to force this call.
A quote of his, “That is my true”
Reflects what he can’t hide,
Yet I hope he knows the joy
His brilliant playing did provide.
When the world seems to me an unbearable place
And troubles weigh too heavily on my shoulders
And try as I may there can be found no solace
For my pain, my anguish, and my sorrow to soothe;
When I feel like God and the angels all conspired
To deny me the pleasures of wealth, friends, and fame
And thus alone I rue my fate and call for Death,
In silent cries, to come and my existence end.
Then I hear her voice and the clouds seem to dispel,
With gentle tones that pull my feet back on the ground.
Her kindness, patience, care, understanding, and love
Awaken me from brooding too much on the dark;
Her tender touch calms the storm brewing in my heart,
She drives away the raging demons from my mind.
Thus, when I no longer want to cling on to life
She comes to me and somehow things turn out right.
She lifts my mind from wallowing in misery
To a brighter and a more pleasant reverie.
September 29, 2024
Lower Fairview, Baguio City, Philippines
If Lucifer and heaven's angels fell
before a time when man first walked the earth,
and ages hence conceived the virgin birth,
wherefore was I meant for this life of hell?
If God is so benign, then why the tale
of my lifelong privation (of love, hearth)
repeats, whilst consuming up all my worth:
as if my soul's cursed with no holy grail?
Before my dawn's emergence, fate conspired
with darkness to assault and end my name;
together, they erased all I desired,
wished for, worked for, planned for, then mocked my shame.
So I, like Milton, rose up: and, inspired,
played rhyme's grandmaster moves in life's chess game!
LET ME
By - kvg owen hamalala
Let me take care of your broken heart
and show you how to fly.
Let me hold you gently by the hand
and kiss your tears goodbye.away
Let me lead you to tomorrow's light
and out of needless rain,
'cause all I want right now
is to see you smile again.
Let me sing you all the songs I wrote
'til you sleep in my embrace,
and I'll keep you safe and warm until
the sunlight strokes your face.
Let me bring you up the mountain's peak,
and I'll let you touch the skies
to remind you of the strength I see
when I look into your eyes.
Let me kiss and show you what is love
and the happiness it brings.
You'll sail again like a butterfly
endowed with pretty wings.
Let me do all these to let you see
our fates are intertwined.
You're the accidental precious gem
I've waited long to find.
The earth and sky conspired to make us meet.
They knew we both belong
to each other like words and lovely notes
give life to every song.
So fly with me, my beautiful one.
It's time we leave the past.
I'm yours to keep, and you are mine.
We're finally home at last.
On this majestic month of May,
The clouds have conspired with the sun in a mist of golden gray,
Like a toxic forbidden love that fights to stay,
Wishing to birth magic yet creating an agonizing flurry of disarray,
Burnt barks that run under my raven slippers,
To great distances drenched in distressed heavens,
Turning hazel hardwood to grow weary and wet,
To a tender, dull mossy carpet.
Now under the violet visions, with the waters amongst the sand,
Lay the silent infestation of invisible insects on a holiday land,
Blazing on our skin,
Making us itch like a physical sin,
Leaving a searing within.
The alchemist too can’t tell where to begin,
Why does such love have to be a battling pain that wins?
Either pour a flood or flash luminosity,
Dangling doors standing against the raining in summer days,
A hopeless spar, but I am tempted to jump in for a swim,
Nature’s gym.
….. My thoughts have derailed,
But the empress of the sea prevailed,
With oils that bind to her heart,
And clarity that shall never depart.
So what more do I need on the logs that stand in this prickly cave?
Am I allowed to touch the blue of the magazine?
When stars otherwise kiss the somberness of the night?
Am I allowed to collect clouds in their ephemeral charm
And restore them their delectable delight to shed pain?
Can I turn orbs of sweet dreams of my own
Into the flavor that I love to color and add
a dash of my-ness into the air I breathe.
If so------
Then I promise I would recite the most exquisite poem.
Elucidate the most enchanting secret.
Write words that never conspired to appear in the most famous minds.
Let me drink my morning brew without exasperation.
and buy Time with my pocket of skills.
I promise I would give you a better garland
Whose fragrance would have designed no mind before.
I promise I’ll give you the piece that would
require no customization, and a tune free of cost.
I would give you the right to justify my wrongs without a grudge
And never turn a deaf ear to your sweated breath.
I would forgive myself for all that I have nurtured in pain
And give myself a Hi5 for having broken my own record.
If only you allow me to be, I’ll give you the gem I am.
Have I paved a path that’s not meant to be used?
Did my utmost plea turn vile to thy ears?
Still, I treaded the path towards your pleasing eyes.
Now, sorrow and grief, for long, shall abide.
Never did I knew that sorrow and grief has conspired.
If ever we tarry apart a spell
Because circumstance conspired with fate
Remember all our days for your heart's sake;
Remember and wear a little smile.
Keep it as one would a given token
Until in flesh we unite once again.
A scarlet-throated hummingbird, betrayed,
commences the annual rite of packing his nest,
in response to whimsical winds' pirouette
and the capricious moods of weather's ballet.
Distant friends once conspired in sunbeam pursuits,
beak-dipping in nectar teased from blossoms' allure,
whispers of the breeze tutoring flight's debut.
Without forewarning, save the whispers of history,
the wind turned, concealing its chilly shoulder,
snow's fragrance on its breath, contradicting denials.
Taking only essentials, nestled close to his breast,
an eccentric twig, a wisp of newborn down for nostalgia,
the unborn blueprints of a portico, a dream deferred.
Perched on a bare branch at dawn, the crimson aviator bids adieu,
soaring on a desolate breath, burden lightened,
leaving his heart with the capricious whimsy of sylphs.
A red-throated hummingbird, betrayed,
begins the annual rite of packing up his nest,
in response to the mercurial spinning of winds,
and the twisted temperaments of weather.
Distant friends once conspired together, chasing sunbeams,
beak-seeking nectar beckoned from blossoms' tease,
thoughtful temptations from the breeze who taught him to fly.
Without warning, save the predictions of history,
the wind turned her shoulder, hiding the cold,
smell of snow on her breath belying denials of inclemency.
Taking only what he needs, tucking it in next to his breast;
an odd stick, a tuft of newborn lanugo for the sake of nostalgia,
unhatched plans of a portico he had intended to build.
Red bird perched on bare branch, in morning bids farewell,
takes flight on desolate breath, his load less heavy now,
having left his heart with the unsteady humor of sylphs.
The RACE is on! And they're off!
We ARE the MASTER RACE neither
Black nor white we are BE-INGS
Existing in DAY OF LIGHT among
You all we sprawl! In the LIFE!
LESSON-- you will see bliss of
Contingency. LESS! Then take flight
Yes No more night of DARKNESS
IT conspired with The GREAT GRIEF
COMES no more humdrum Humdrum
Humdrum Soooo good DAY good
Day good day and now
LESSON LEARNED LESSON LEARNED
LESSON LEARNED LESSON LESSON
LESSON LESSON LEARNED?!
Good way survived ALL ARE ALIVE!
In others words the future will be
Brighter for everybody REMAINING. Nobody
Will call themselves Black or white.
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