sharp or keen - foolish or dull
something on which to mull
but I'm still at a loss
one way or another
I must choose oxys or moros
Categories:
moros, word play, words,
Form: Cinquain
Mormo nudges Moros shoulder hard,
chthonic behavior a bleak dance;
Cocytus is swollen with sad souls,
what direction do explosives flow?
Chthonic behavior a bleak dance,
it’s so easy to learn the steps to;
Be courageous, favor bold fortune!
Cocytus is swollen with sad souls,
Swim against this trend even alone,
capture optimistic moonlighting;
What direction do explosives flow?
Cerberus and Acanthodonto,
maybe the secret’s in their tension.
Categories:
moros, emotions, feelings, introspection,
Form: Other
Who died are the Sulus
not the so called Moros
They were the recruits
Were killed when refused
Sabah were to invade
They refused to take orders
Sacrificed not to kill brothers
Jabidah Massacre bolted
Jabidah Peace Garden
the name should be penned
part of the history and genuine
not to distort its tale
Not supposed ourselves
Supposed not to hide it
The truth of the fate
Shall come to take the lead
It is nice to be recognized
An honor was made
But think of the truth
A sincere hearts we should
We cried, laughed and proud
From the Mindanao plain
from the valley mountains
and from the breeze of Sulu currents.
I love you peace. Let's sail together. Layag Sug!
Nature City. 22 March 2015. 11:20AM
Categories:
moros, age, angst, appreciation, art,
Form: Bio
Before,
people are not Filipinos and Moros.
They're Mindanaons and Sulus.
Now they are being hid by two levels:
Filipinos and Moros.
The old names would be buried
forever if not rescued.
Categories:
moros, absence, abuse, addiction, analogy,
Form: Ballad
Recently, I read Kahil Gibran’s prose" The Criminal”. I have read it at least two other
times in the past but this recent read had effected me more so than the past reads. So
much so, that I was inspired to write this sonnet not too long after I put the book down.
In Gibran’s prose the man from the beginning was poor. How he winds up, to me, at least
seemed fated.
In my sonnet, in the first quatrain I added the God Moros (God Of Destiny) to build on my
theme (Fate)
The stars were dim when he entered as man.
The angry Moros god unfurled his wrath
on mothers womb, thus poverty began
its dolorous debilitating path.
His youthful foes were always hunger-pangs.
He'd sit at byways begging alms to no
avail. Idle dinner bells ne'er rang.
He'd think, when might I eat? He didn't know.
Unfed and desperate he took to theft.
Thus headed for the corner grocer's store.
A stolen staple booty was fetched, but yet
a meal was not in store--seized at the door!
Predetermined ill fate forced him to steal
to earn him an incarcerated meal.
Categories:
moros, god, god,
Form: Sonnet