Long Fiesta Poems
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I hardly brew coffee alongside the metaphor of
English mornings blended with summer’s febrile breath.
But, on this occasion, I did....
It was a stifling moment on television.
The social media was abuzz with the hiss of
Integrated journalism. I hated this moment I failed to believe myself
Upon the altar of this recent toponym. BREXIT.
The name plinks with resounding voices, exerting that energy of
Political consciousness.
Lexicographers must hasten it into the dictionary
Before the return of Christ.
Must be cooked in the crucible of NOUN and
Heavily spiced in VERB.... And then, play host to nimieties.
It’s plainly a matter of exiting the circumference of a common, dancing market,
Where freedom of movement spins the web of twinkle-toed arachnids.
My coffee whiffed with the Brazilian hegemony
Upon the Indian scheme of teas and secular drams of rum,
And Iran’s love for green tea.
Summer’s mornings are difficult, I must remind you.
Waking from the posts of work and a bivouac
Stretches the eyelids beyond groggy eyelashes
With the haste of a speeding dawn.
But the TRUTH remained salient and voluble:
BRITAIN HAS VOTED TO LEAVE THE EU.
And it’s not a hypnagogic matter.
It has no business with amphigoric journalism.
It’s a British-fried piece of truth.
Are you kidding me?
I find it totally execrable when people say what they do not know,
Rather than ask what they do not know.
Sunday Times spread its pages to annex some truth.
So did The New York Times and Washington Post and the
Community of tabloids – all tried to
Squeeze out the sprinkles of the matter from collapsing firths.
There was no trace of Churchill in this BREXIT fiesta.
Even de Gaulle exuded remedies of a fractured Europe; he remembered
The WAYWARD WAR, whose frenetic winds blew us no good.
My coffee, black and gold, with the supple bubbles and yellow froths,
Welcomed the degree of weather forecasting.
Will it rain?
Will there be isolated thunderstorms across the EU?
Will BREXIT brew some heat? Slanting showers?
What Celsius does a degree reach before there’s a
Pandemonium?
DID YOU MEAN POUND-EMONIUM?
HAVEN’T YOU HEARD ABOUT THE CRASH OF THE POUND?
Pamplona - full fight - 'El Toro Bravo'
Who's got more balls the matador or the bull
Nature or nurture the survival is skewed
The stage is set culture maintained and the
Fiesta bound to unravel in wild screams and suspense
Paloma however sports a pacifist's creed
Prefers a siesta with Paco's gentle sword
Sheathed in passion smooth motions of Peace
Bow to freedom and compassionate love
Pony and stallion dance al fresco in white sheets
When the night settles and they glow in the dusk
The arena nearby is empty bar blood in the sand
But Paloma and Paco rest unblemished after the
wondrous rapture and a clear conscience in kind
A clatter of human hooves
drums on through an after- dawn marketplace…
the wide tunnel of mouths
reel from the splintered chorus
of jangled tunes bargaining and rattling
papaya, arabica and sushi roll orders: a fiesta
of succulent aroma whisks mid-air,
talkative faces sampling potent crops
on weaved baskets , hanging neatly
before slurpy hands condemn
them to boiling pots: the errant
noise loose like gander and hogs.
How much is this and that?
The slithering, crumpled bills drop
their tongues on purses scraped from
one week’s abominable toil.. oh, darting
fishes jerk their bellies while the array
of chicken hunks glaze under lights, frozen
and lumped from farmers’ harvest
rites... morning so luscious with grapes
colored velvet skin, lettuce tips
pulped by shiny green: and the procession
of lapping mouths reach head tone pitch,
dishes, dishes for salivating tongues,
taste buds for citrusy fruits, on one delirious
mecca to a market, market day!
......................
A Poem You Enjoyed Contest of Lewis Raynes
Entered 9/13/2016 (Old Poem)
My memory tells
about your happy school days
as seen in your smile
I heard recently
you bought a dress for your mom
with your own money
I saw you lately
at the center of the crowd
beside the right lane
An old man asked
"He is your student, isn't he?"
I could not answer
You went to Sog-ong
last night in a barayle*
it was fiesta** there
Our eyes were not there
to see the knife reach your lungs
and mar your future
Your friends could not serve
as a thick metallic shield
to face the sharp blade
All that they could do
was to carry your body
home by the hammock
Goodbye, my student
whose life was taken swiftly
like a lost bubble
* Barayle is a local term for "night party"
** Fiesta is a tradition in the Philippines where people celebrate a feast in honor of a saint
It's a beautiful night
the sky's clear, the clouds giving way
the moon in full, casting its light
brightness all over, darkness gone away.
Like fireflies having fiesta on a treetop
Family celebrating dancing around the fire.
Baby having nap in her mother's lap
peacefully unbothered little sire.
It's a perfect night
to play hide and seek,
the owl's on guard in site
to watch every step that stake.
Like best friends gathering, having little chats
siblings together sharing little dreams,
revealing secrets teasing each other's guts
singing, humming their joyous screams.
It's a special night
cuddling in your mother's lap
sways by your father's arms at night
playing with your siblings having laughs.
A beautiful affair
Perfect night to leisure
A special family fare
Moments of life to treasure.
12/10/20
BIRTHDAY TO REMEMBER
My birthday with my two daughters was to die for.
Celebrating it in New Mexico
to enjoy the Hot Air Balloon
Fiesta and ride it,
to see the Loretto Chapel in Santa Fe
and to soak in mineral spring water.
Was so excited with our trip for October,
two thousand nine, flew to Albuquerque.
Toured downtown and all around it.
Drove to Santa Fe, zoomed
to the famous spiral staircase in Loretto
Chapel and went to do what I adore.
Soaking, relaxing in hot spring water before
heading back to Albuquerque to go
to see all the Hot Air Balloons
so bright for being lit.
Then our Hot Air Balloon ride, our trip finale.
Birthday to remember with my daughters.
A Little Memory - My Invented Form - Poetry
1/1/21 Constance La France
Used How Many Syllables and Rhyme Zone
Seabull baste the coup de faste
Infectudo goncerotia gonzo
Ron done wrong and was corrected for it
Foresca fiesta frescoe fiskars deshthroes kiskstar
By Start Up bark slarm no harm done to a cherry tree
Wood freeze it ASAP keep it the cooler like Texas does
Drip Diamonds in flex fuel beef it up
Life ex[pands its expectancy
Drims sound cool up pull up pull off a coup or live miserable
Defective decendant A Bravis son
Don't Davis me saveth her ass for special occasion
Dip set throuh the Tip saw
The e·lic·it replenished diceptiva
Trek or ball inflate streamed in time
Coup de FeD Framas Grace fluent in the gruesome scene of a Frogman
Resital dial it quick Sentry's kept of dialpads
Weapons weekly I used my deceptive mind zone
Introspective friers as WASAP
Wichita sounds like Wise county
Gileads crosspath
we poets are waiting for the moonset
sitting on my balcony, evolutions shamans
now wandering the beach
we are solving every social ill
while walking Blake's path of excess
to some palace of wisdom
this sojourn has but one worry
the hour the liquor store closes
less the worry here, shamans open doors
money, lycanthropy meandering the beach
a ramada where we wake the proprietor
who finds such occurrences propitious
vending beer, most cultures' insanity is sacrosanct
the moon is waning into the ocean
to Bach's Toccata and Fugue
we are singing Eddie Arnold's cattle call
while the other horizon eructs
red-orange warnings poets love to ignore
evanescent crescendos
write something every day, i am not that bored
the sleep never begun is over
quart bottles cover the table
our proprietor lies in the Land of Nod
poets of Laputa, self-serving pataphysicians
the bench is strewn with the problems of Gulliver
La Senora arrives, shift changes, orders breakfast
and this proceeds until siesta time
the repairing of every social ill
retiring into respective hammocks
we are philosophers, possess our epigrams
no siesta, no fiesta, tomorrow i swear
a new and improved version
the beach is safe now
for white bucks scribbling in the sand
while our feet are beyond and supine
covered with flies, killing us
did not the Beats do this
San Blas 91 The Patient Stones
47.
My 5th Leaf
Plucked thee while sitting
While Mayor speaking
Unlike the first four
You're not for décor
Lo! “Carabao Grass”?
CapSU family
And unknown to me
Crowd – far and near
Cluster – there and here
Fiesta spectators
PM August One
Start of feast on town
There's not enough sun
Not hot, not cold – fine
Mayor gives message
Parade to playground
Crowds and sounds around
Audience view – right side
Itchy grasses side
Kneel and Indian seat
It was eight years past
Since I was there last
Take part Padagyaw
Rejoice Dumarao
Our Lady of Snows!
-08/01/2011
(Dumarao)
*My Toladas Collection
Banquet here
On island resort
Fun greets cheer
Where fancy casts lot
Sea of crowd
Swirl of new faces
Noise floats loud
Happy new traces
Time for smiles
Wonder seeds gaudy
Sensuous styles
Eclectic fancy
Joy streams fest
Decor in sure flair
Seize fond zest
In wedding affair
Buzz regales
Fusion menu fare
Catwalk tale
Watch frolic move air
In glad swirl
Banquet blooms precise
Apt moods hurl
Finesse flings surprise
Strokes breathe fond
Fairy tale ideas
Prize moves bond
Sparkle oomph streams cheer
Poise knows voice
In catwalk parade
Noise greets choice
In lovely charade
Tryst casts cheer
One of a kind night
Love floats dear
Craft of sheer delight
A prompt dash
As glee feels set free
Sparks now flash
In love's symphony
Hearts know art
A dream fable gift
Craft you start
As feelings uplift
Love moves each
As journey quest grooms
Joy binds reach
In bright floral blooms
Live fond souls
Love that patterns find
Twin hearts whole
Seize true peace of mind
Leon Enriquez
13 May 2017
Singapore