You and I are natural born poets
Established from the Words of God
A void-full of nothingness
Then love took away the darkness
You and I are a-natural work of art
Chiseled from, mercy-full-of-grace
From dust to the dawn of the Holy Spirit
Inherited to dream life up, to the limit
You and I are natural shoe-makers
Captains and masters and chiefs
We make rules where rules are made
And make homages to what Jesus’s-life, paid
You and I are natural home-makers
Leaving no stones or pebbles, unturned
But who’s the most natural in God’s point of view
Naturally, it’ll be a tie, between me and you
By:Wilbert Evangelista Dela Cruz
How glorious it must have been
our ancestor's thinking it the end
giving homages and priestly prayers
joyfully they dance and sing praises
For us over here only a silvery full moon
something to do with angles of reflection
meant we missed this amazing event
lost it was in the distance by many miles
Yet I can perfectly picture this red moon
as it towers up high lighting all with strange light
blood orange red with streaks of purple
running on its surface criss crossing
written 04/24/2014
contest Red Moon
Wrestling Verses
Spilling ink onto paper,
reading tea-leaves,
fragments of mirth,
shards of anguish,
remain,
trapped in rolled-up sleeves.
Turning up my collar,
as blue as these days that slip by,
scattered verses plunge into,
the fathoms of unknown waters.
My ink runs, slips, treading lightly,
penning odes to love on bare skin,
your skin,
your bare back my canvas,
my fingers tracing, caressing, scribbling,
homages to our laughter, our tears.
Wrestling verses,
lie spent, exhausted,
famished and parched from saying too much,
still,
my fingers tickle your soft skin,
my ink would run dry,
were it not for your gentle touch
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