I don’t want to talk about disappointment,
you don’t have any pigskin in the game.
Save the conversations for the basement,
what I am liable to say I’m not to blame.
Everything these men led me through,
trash talk isn’t doing me any favors.
I know it will never make sense to you,
so please do not wear my team’s colors.
The light that flickered will glow again,
laughter is best shining through tears.
A win will restore a dormant toothy grin,
snap that losing streak and it reappears.
Head down keep silent and motivated,
remember that we are all in this together
I’m a true fan if you are loved or hated,
this storm’s just another one to weather.
Step back if you cannot stay loyal,
I promise you we aren’t like the others.
Bandwagon jumpers make my blood boil,
so please do not wear my team’s colors.
While the universe is ever-expanding
life on earth becomes even more demanding
despite a few one or two
world-shattering improvements
man is still wallowing
in the proverbial primordial
and if this road he insists on following
our future looks severely bleak
as where once we were happily winning
we're now all on a losing streak
yet history has taught him nothing
that and his memory is short
no thanks to his stupidity
between rocks on a hard place we are caught
but what about our children
those innocents who go unsung
there's not a lot for them to look forward to
that bell can't be unrung
as the genie is out of the bottle
what with plastic and fossil fuels
here's one last thought
I'm glad I won't be around to witness
the final endgame result
of what we silly fools hath wrought
Mine was a somewhat humble Holy Grail.
For forty years, I hoped to see a plane
fly right across the moon. I hoped in vain.
Though once I got to see a vapour trail
bisect the orb, I couldn’t quite prevail.
Like Joey Starrett, running after Shane,
It seemed to me the gods might preordain
a lifelong disappointment. Would they fail
to humour me? It all looked pretty bleak.
One hoary April morning, just last week,
on glancing up, I broke my losing streak!
Flamed by a sun which, here, had not yet risen,
a tiny aircraft, shining with mystique,
flew through the moon, and smashed my earthbound prison.
Was I maudlin over our breakup? For a minute.
If I think of you now, it’s like a slideshow of unflattering images.
At the time, my breakup buddies reminded me you were a bad
choice - like a brand of deodorant that gave me a rash or fashionable shoes that chafed, even after they were stretched.
“Ruca,” my girlfriends would say, “you’re shootin-terrible, they’re a million pork-swords in the sea.”
Finally, I pulled the trigger - double-tapped us.
At first, reminders of you, those siren whispers of nostalgia, were everywhere - like the moon - which, I just had to live with.
You passed from memory though, that’s how memory works. Events fade, like last week’s chemistry test, or yesterday’s lunch.
Now, if someone asks me, “Hey, remember, what’s his name, your big love from high school?”
I say “Nope.”
I chose to laugh, dance - and shoot birds at the moon.
.
.
Slang:
breakup buddies = friends who help you get over a breakup
ruca = girlfriend
shootin terrible = on a losing streak, not doing well, making bad choices
pork-swords = come on, think about it - it’s funny.
Bunny Boggins was a brilliant batter for sure.
He hit home runs that were the team’s big cure.
Until he came along, they had such a losing streak.
He is up at bat right now; don’t make a squeak!
You mean he cannot bat if you make noise? Someone said.
He can, but it is not advisable, answered his cousin Ted.
We have to keep that gorgeous bunny in the sunbonnet quiet.
Bunny Boggins is a lady’s man. If we lose, it might start a riot.
A tempest night sky presses, my lattice windows shake,
as if someone’s being thrown against them, or worse yet,
a yeti's breaking in. They lock with little levers that seem far
too flimsy to keep out the prying fingers of turbulence.
We watched a man plodding outside - obviously a student from Alaska.
He was talking on his phone, his breath a continuous, cold white cloud.
He slipped, careering drunkenly but managed to stay upright by
assuming a surfer-like crouch.
“Where do you think HE’s going?” Lisa wondered.
Forget fall’s polite, amuse-bouche of chill, we’ve been smacked,
full frontally assaulted by the gigantic, cold-fist of winter. “Go on,”
I said, to the weather gods last fall, like an unlucky gambler on a
losing streak. “hit me!”
Now I’m searching Amazon for “flannel underwear”.
Our team lost today
lost yesterday too
the game before that
the one prior to that too
Seems they're on a losing streak
Is our team really that weak?
Or are the others too tough
and ours a creampuff?
Whatever the truth, I'm loyal still
I believe that our team surely will --
win a game or two someday soon
~ before the appearance
of the next blue moon
______________________________
The title means 'Ever Faithful' in Latin
I sat on the couch on a dull afternoon in deep thought,
The meaning of my life I genuinely sought.
As time hastily passed by,
I began to suspect my actions to justify.
Sadly, I never made use of my time,
My life had a very boring rhyme.
The reason my dreams were always in a fog
Was only because I was a lazy dog.
Then I decided to let go of the past,
At least I realized this pretty fast.
I searched with enthuse on how to live in zest,
But all I got was a pass in patience test.
Bothered I was about my life,
Felt like walking on the edge of a knife.
The expectation of family was at its peak,
While I was on a losing streak.
A desire to come out all guns firing
Was the reason I opted for engineering.
Life of a fighter it is inside,
Every beating you got had to be pushed aside.
As I face the mirror and see a responsible man,
I boost myself by saying “yes I can.
Arduous days will soon end,
And a winning message I will send”.
You can break a promise, break a toy,
Break a rack in pool;
Break a tennis player’s serve
And even break a rule.
Break a horse to saddle up;
Take a break for lunch.
Break a glass (at Jewish weddings);
Listen to it crunch.
Break a habit, break a heart,
Break your back by lifting;
Break your neck and break your fast
And break a line by shifting.
Break up laughing, break-out stars,
Break out with some zits;
Break a losing streak and break
Your taffy bar to bits.
Break dance, break-up, break a bone;
Break a record – wow!
Break your train of thought, just like
I’m going to do – now!
The words are playing hide and seek
And I’ve no clue where I should peek.
My situation’s not unique
But confidence is shrinking…
I fear I’m on a losing streak;
Without a paddle, up the creek.
My brain a rowboat with a leak
And I am slowly sinking…
I used to have a fine technique
Yet I’m in need of quite a tweak
Though I’ll provide my own critique,
The consequence of thinking…
Violence breeds pain
Pain beyond gain
Violence signs show
A dying flow
Violence is crude
Decay burns rude
Violence spreads fear
Let love mark cheer
Violence is mad
Vile beyond sad
Violence is harsh
A sinking marsh
Violence now trades
A fake charade
Violence knows fest
In cruel jest
Violence now spills
Evil ways thrill
Violence is sick
An empty flick
Violence speaks loud
Haughty and proud
Violence is weak
A losing streak
Violence lays waste
Vile acts that paste
Leon Enriquez
11 August 2016
Singapore
TV sensation
Prime time news;
Wake up call
~~~~~~~~~
Elegant poise on TV
Charming sweet voice;
Brilliant anchor delivery
~~~~~~~~~
Homegrown talent
Sparkle and shine;
New media sensation
~~~~~~~~~
Stock market trends
Upswing and downswing;
Challenging times
~~~~~~~~~
Politics of freedom
Confrontational constituents;
Angry defiance
~~~~~~~~~
Observe the times
Conflicts permutates;
Right and left and wrong
~~~~~~~~~
Losing streak
Gambling losses;
Cut loss and run
~~~~~~~~~
Affairs of the heart
Uneasy showdown;
Bruised egos clash
~~~~~~~~~
Pun of old wit
Can still sting;
Mad hornets stir
~~~~~~~~~
Kill joy this talk
Something for nothing;
Deceit attends conceit
~~~~~~~~~
Gain or loss
Not much has changed;
Greedy is greedy
~~~~~~~~~
Here we go again
Flirt from old pain;
Embrace new pain
~~~~~~~~~
Sweet baby asleep
Mother's fond embrace;
Peace in the valley
~~~~~~~~~
Leon Enriquez
20 October 2014
Singapore
The dice always lands on that zero
And what are the odds, zero
Even so, why bother?
Because luck is an illusion
Luring us the losers to confusion
With false hope, living us bitter
Stuck in this infinite losing streak
That you so badly want to break
In this game you can’t win
Until you really sin
Living in a world of guilt
Cross examining every thought
Slaughtering every thought
On which your world is built
Never gets you very far
You sit and wait
You watch and wait
To hit one under par
But you’ll get there one day
When you do something
When you start something
While your masochism is away
So maybe wait another week
To do something
To start something
And add a year to your losing streak
Even as a seasoned, no, jaded,
pub folksinger,
he still feels quite queasy about
night crowd temper;
at times he's sincerely booed or
jokingly applauded;
in either case he knows he's
actually insulted.
He doesn't seem to mind the sham fame
with its true ache;
though he's on a losing streak, he still
hopes for a break;
he's weirdly grateful for sober jeers
and drunken cheers
from jolly hecklers and teasing pranksters
quaffing beers!
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