Long Sunbeams Poems
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No rhyme nor reason why
yours truly recalled how
me late mother
(earlier in her fitbit livingsocial years)
non verbally communicated disgust
(insync with audible sigh)
quite often ultimatums
blasting fulminating nauseating
scathing well nigh
she loosed loathing against
grungy looking son (guess who)
futilely escaped wrath of Harriet Khan
clamoring upon rooftop high
offering birds eye view
out of earshot and eyesight aye
catching sunbeams while smiling wry
cowardly lion sought divine intervention
courtesy sheltering sky
acres of shingles I sprawled
these lovely bones did lie
property of garden variety generic guy.
She who helped beget and birth
sole heir inheriting gamut of behavioral quirks
linkedin with many predecessors,
who trod, slunk, roamed...
across planet Earth.
Best bet said present day scribe i.e.
poetic, nonesstablishmentarian, liberal,
jesting, humble, freelance, dilatory bummer
whose hindsight evinced a student dumber
than his classmates wheedled
(as targeted scapegoat) by bullies their flummer
re: entrapped - worse louse than lice
internalized trauma left figurative tread marks
analogous to raging road runner
pressing accelerator pedal of hummer
driven by (an actual person) one Roger Kummerer.
Despite agonizing vicious tongue lashing
against flesh and blood,
which venomous invisible whiplash
never petered out
(even when sundry bloke
got married and gladly left home)
abusive treatment markedly
left appalling, loathing and percolating
ambivalence if though mama passed away
(these last seventeen plus years) wrung
cash crop of poetic endeavors,
albeit resultant lackluster
literary crafted aspirations.
Memory of mom overshadowed
by similar facsimile thereof
think shrieking banshee,
an indelible psychological imprimatur,
I strive to acknowledge
emotional reverberations to date
(May 27th, 2021).
My trademark wordsmith fashioned communiqué
impossible mission to shake off bittersweet feelings
toward once (former) Arthur Murray dance instructor
which fancy footwork synchronized with favorite
debonair handsome young fella (papa)
both flirts buoyant with elan and energy
only thru death will angst become free
interestingly enough hands will clap with glee.
Amongst the mist of midday rain
I walk beside my heart's pain
Subtle images reflect what is not
Daydreams shadow things once forgot
Pitter patter of moistly wet drops
Splatter of rain ticks like a clock
Time is still amongst the mist
I close my eyes and reminisce
Silken skin soothes the touch
Long hair of auburn full and lush
Eyes that shine from a fiery soul
The beauty of a woman I love to hold
Keeper of my heart by her firm touch
Boyhood memories make innocence blush
Gone away I long for more
Misty spirit of my adore
I bite my lip and taste the mist
My heart is cold and adrift
Puddles splash at my shoe
Do I enjoy missing you
Sunbeams break through clouds of rain
Silvery visions evaporate within my pain
Soft breezes kiss her lips on my face
Such was once I shan't replace
Wet and damp with a splash of ill
Cold and old I begin to feel
I open my eyes and close my mind
Saving her memory for another time
Song of the Four Seasons 2-16-24
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Song of the Four Seasons
Jagged steel gray skies
Compose barren bough sculptures
Midnight days, Orion nights
White fire crystal symphonies.
Spring wriggles adagio toes,
Sunbeams thaw tuneless meadows,
Daffodils dream yellow melodies
Blossoms burst fragrant ballads.
Downbeats of summer rainstorms
Silver sonatas of moonlight
Heat rises in crescendos,
Cool waves soothe sunburns.
Scarlet scatters leafy notes,
Crisp sapphire skies motifs,
Harvest chorales of harmonies
Harbingers in orange transitions.
Sleepy thoughts loiter,
Dreamy images disappear...
Sun stabs sudden focus.
Subconscious thoughts come
Abrupt as light streams,
No time to think.
Senses aware one by one:
Like octopus tentacles
Twisting and curling to touch.
Edgy promontory here:
Eyes scan the cityscape fringes,
Twenty-storey window view
Far below the tiny people,
Busy with busyness,
Little rushing marionettes.
If they could see this puppet
Rising with drowsy countenance,
A curly smile will attend amusement.
Anyhow my simple heart
Prays a blessing for each stranger
Plunging into life's misdemeanours.
Awake and aware once again,
This new day beckons impatiently,
Sunbeams pave the way.
With humble thanksgiving,
Look forward to a blur quest,
Explore forthcoming murmurings.
Mind comes to know a field
Beyond the tragic wrong
And the dramatic right.
A certain field where play presides,
Where all can meet fond ecstasy
With rapture and delight.
Here fear and guilt and regret
Are purged from conscious thought,
Here feelings find sure innocence.
Once more, a wholeness comes
To bind each part as one:
Thus, each soul feels unique yet reconciled.
Yes, discovery greets mystery,
If you learn to discern
The perfect symmetry of life.
Even the inanimate life
In rocks and stones and hills
Salute the sacred gospel divine.
Look beyond the chaos
To sure goodness of wise nature,
See the face of God who lives and loves.
There is a certain harmony
Beyond science and religion:
The cosmos live in grace and beauty.
Leon Enriquez
15 September 2014
Singapore
Rumi Quote "Doubt is a precipice on the way to God. Blessed is he who is freed from its bonds."
__________________________________________
Walking toward the edge, facing a gray sky,
Paradise magnificence is dazzling below.
Goals are shrouded amid dense, rimy snow,
Amid scarlet stones, serenading scary lullaby.
Mountain summits catch nascent sunbeams,
Time for either primal bitterness or delight.
Flagrantly feeling fearful of a factious fright,
Falls fully into the recess of sliced streams.
Positioned on the edge of annihilation,
I was looking into the distance of my mind.
I am seated and pensive, on muse behind,
Have I the resolve to move toward obligation?
Yeah, the road ahead is all thorny and broken,
So I'm trapped, admiring it from a distance.
However, I am unable to reverse my insistence,
for the route I've taken is empty and betoken.
I've no action as to dwell in confine of truth,
Observing dread and splendor of doubt.
Skilled in leaving to safety despite flout,
Wish to dive into the dimness, still in my youth.
Fear the ambiguous; it is nothing but dread,
If not brave enough to tackle a rough path.
As I felt anxious at this point, unfit to lath.
Still, what path can I decide to sail ahead?
Should I return to weird safety or leave?
Is the charm of the enigma alluring to me?
What can I do? not a clear path to foresee
Yet, such ways will always be a lie to weave.
But I must purport to persist on this precipice.
Hinders the impending gravity of genesis.
Abandon through the flowing blue ice streams,
then rise to thirsty trees and fields of dreams.
Abandon in the beige fields of Indian red autumn,
skeletal keepers lean from the fragrant ledge then forgotten.
Abandon through the weaving champagne sunbeams,
stairway to nirvana, most transient gleams.
Abandon in golden salamander orange, that hath,
set archway of pendulous amber stipule path.
Abandon in the summer sky blue waterfall,
frond through the echoes, grayish fog call.
Abandon in lichen depth and pinnacle spears,
bent and rooted in the brown, in deaf ears.
Abandon in liquescent hands, in its melancholy vale, slowly unfurl,
meeting once more in a dying golden pearl.
Reaching for the stars, yet the soul hath life diviner.
Let it sooth my bleak sorrow and my ashen sin, a love finer.
6/26/2018
Pax vobiscum – peace be with you
He came to earth, the perfect light
Faith, hope and love filled the night
He was more than merely the only way
He was the king of kings they often say
His love is wonder, joy and grace
He is the One who fills this place
With kindness beyond our dreams
Wisdom more alive than sunbeams
His laughter arrives with the rain
He relieves our sorrow and our pain
Delivers us from the sin in our past
In vibrant hues that leave a contrast
His glory arrives on the kiss of a tear
Shimmering so bright it melts the fear
Wipes away the silence with its insight
Whispers of elation like the moonlight
His life reminds that we hold this peace
From His spirit,… love will always increase
Because He came to give us a second chance
The miracle of a life alive with the romance
Peace be with you… is His wonderful vow
Filling hearts with inspiration to allow
His love to penetrate the center of a heart
With amazing blessings that will never depart
Latin Lessons Poetry Contest
Sponsored by: Margarita Lillico
January 5, 2022
Scent of floral buzz,
Dash of fleeting time;
Smell the morning gush,
Heed the playful chimes.
Plumeria surprise,
By this walkway stuff;
White floral advice,
Fragrant sure enough.
Sunbeams flood new light,
Awesome colours fling;
Conscious curious flight,
Watch the choral sling.
Old memories come,
Rush of past charades;
Pungent poignant psalms,
Words move lyric trade.
Linger and loiter,
Take fond mornings walks;
Let joy not falter,
Stillness needs no talk.
There will be time when
Joy and sorrow meet;
A glimpse will know then
Kindness that now greets.
Leon Enriquez
21 September 2017
Singapore
Everyone called Joanna Wilde, Joanie, like an abbreviated crescent moon,
Of which she was much enamored, with its silky, maroon darkness tunes.
Pert Joanie was a young night owl, loving lone whip-poor-wills, singing,
And bewitching midnight stars of glitter, and a calm silence, for thinking.
Joanie was a successful librarian, and always dreamed of advancement;
And having the morning shift, she worked hard for career enhancement.
On weekends, Joanie and fatigued friends, had fun days in fresh flowers,
Below feathery clouds floating far, in warm honeyed sun, of tonic powers.
Sunshine fever fetched family and kisses, when flowers feigned fainting,
'Ere purple finches stood still at noon, in jade scenes, like fine paintings.
Joanie lived in the house of starry eclipse, of dusk and moon hiding sun;
The red, gold and purple not much missed, afore a rare night was done.
Sweet sounds and scents traveled far, along her street of silver willows.
And minty butterflies kept so busy, as sunbeams slept, on cloud pillows.
Neighbors brought their needlepoint, with news, on nice, nostalgic eves;
For nothing's as neat as nonstop conversation, like a chattering of leaves!
'Cuckoo' flowers denoted colorful hours, as 'busy Lizzy' steadily bloomed;
While mimosa blossoms wore lush silk in sun, in the teal world, perfumed.
Purple bleeding hearts mourned sunset, in the summer of vibrant sparkles.
Red carnations shone as if for queenly coronation, awash in gold marvels.
Joanie was finally up for promotion. That set her ruby heart to dreaming;
But, working nights, she suffered burnout, like grape sun, when scheming.
Her habits had to change-and soon! Like 12 hours spent amidst a lily moon.
She'd hence be a night owl only rarely; like a sable nightingale's new tune!
'Birds sing in the morn
To tell us to rise,
And he who sleeps late
Will never be wise.
For early to bed
And early to rise
Is the way to be healthy
And wealthy and wise.'
It all worked out for the best, to the pride and pleasure of Joanie's family;
Who loved her enough to be a part of, every heartache and fuchsia victory!
Black edges a turquoise horizon,
inking silhouettes a cobalt blue.
And shining stars, like twinkling candles,
faintly flicker in and out of view.
Color escapes from night’s dark abyss,
as shadows reborn are given shape.
And sunbeams gild the rim of the earth,
distilling reds into shades of grape.
Sound is suspended, all is silent,
a magical time, before birds fly.
Magenta clouds share shades of crimson,
imbued with fire that ignites the sky.
A birthing sun ascends from the east,
its brilliance engulfing all of space.
Daylight reclaims territories lost,
and night vanishes, without a trace.
Written Jan 7th, 2016 for the contest, Any Poem, sponsor, Broken Wings