97.
Letter Poem to My Family
Tatay, Nanay, Nene
My one and only family
How precious you are to me!
To whom shall I compare thee?
No one can surpass your love to me
Despite my flawed personality
How beloved you are to me!
To whom shall I exchange thee?
Whatever bad things I say and do
To the three of you
Whether be it false or true
Without you, my life is worthless and bad too.
-03/02/2012
(Dumarao)
*Third Incubus Collection
32.
Christmas Gift
I cannot give you a teddy bear
Nor a pair of shoes so fair
Not an apple, grapes nor pear
Never a soft-cushioned chair.
I cannot give you a bounty cash
Earned so slow, but spent so fast
Hurts my pocket, gives it lash
Damn that money that don't last.
The only thing I can give you, dear
Is a greeting so sincere
“May your Christmas for this year…
Be filled with smiles – full of cheer!”
-12/14/08
(Dumarao)
*for Nene Angel…her assignment
Banquet of people like wildflowers, shemales swaying thier county sides from left right, funky cat shoes, bikinis
all that stuffs, some religious ones were odd though.
Every male manning his Oars. Things seem clearer now .
Some smiling in between pains, some laughing while
the pain is under, some buying attitudes some selling .
They say "life is such a business," "buh what think u?"
Me!," "what u do with it today is what u get from it the
Morrow & what u do away today is what u
do without the Morrow."
Suddenly Nene came, but Dada has just gone on a sudden journey
never to return. Momma is lonely and I can't comfort her.
Lola is a bleeding heart and Junior has marked another sexy figure.
So I roadbed my phases & titled it " three phases of my life "
"experience is a name that men give to their mistakes"
A damsel looked at me , she said
"Jerome hi," and I just said "hello" but she isn't letting go her eyes lash off me. I don't know why she comes around often,
Though am good at maths a little, Lola she is fondly called.
She made me believe I had tiny heirs on my upper lip, they call
It mustache. Lola's father sterns at me, her momma smiles at me,
my momma frowns at her, my Dada smiles at her.
I thought I liked Lola, then Junior came and she left with him.
I cried a little then Momma said" forget about her, Nene will come."
So with bleeding heart, emotional tattoos inscribed on my neural,
I bubbled out like a golden Tilapia fish from the deep & dived
into the third phaze.
I found myself in a very big hall, no uniform like former times. "What! Why?" Rhetorics
Childhood friends helped each other
Known since we are 8, 9 years old
They helped me with Gen. Austin- a scammer
I fell, was hard but I accepted
Now, there are those who’s she’s hurting
God and me
We’re hurt because she’s committing a sin
She is living in a world of lies
She was hurt when I told her
Starting to say hurtful things
It is okay I love her
Was helping her
It hurts but there is love
That’s what friends are for
Togetherness
It was not my time to speak today
I must rest as much as possible, need a new
battery for my reserve heart and have to do
with my damaged heart.
My feet are swollen challenging to walk, but drove
my wife to the cemetery and the ashes of
my wife´s brother was placed beside his
mother´s coffin
I was driven there an uphill walk got a lift.
Nene, his name, rests beside his mother, he was
her favourite son both words together on a glass door
it was a touching moment.
Drove my wife home slept for two hours and had
a restless dream.
A skeleton and ashes one has to be religious
to believe the two will ever meet, but for now
they are together.
the loss of Nene
Forever is an awesome word we use without
realize the implication of the verb.
A friend of mine is dead.
I will not see him again in my lifetime I say this
to avoid saying forever.
Summer and winter will pass
snow-topped mountains will remain, but my friend
will eternally be dead.
Ashes in an urn are lightweight
and has little to do with the man I knew.
He is an abstraction
like the dust in the road,
to say goodbye is useless
he is beyond the known.
N-ame
E-mploys
N-ice
E-xcellent
D-enotation
O-f
B-eautiful
L-ovely
E-xpression
Topic: Birthday of Nene Y. Doble (July 12)
Form: Vertical Monocrostic
N-ewness
E-liminates
N-ight
E-vening
D-ark
O-nce
B-eacon's
L-ight
E-ases
Y-our
A-nguished
P-light
T opic: Birthday of Nene Doble Yap (July 12)
Form: Vertical Monocrostic
N-ewness
E-xpresses
N-ice
E-arliness
K-nown
A-s
R-ay
E-ndorsing
N-ext
P-ositivity
U-nder
D-awn
A-s
D-ay's
E-agerness
R-eappears
A-gain
Topic: Birthday of Nene Karen A. Pudadera (July 01)
Form: Vertical Monocrostic
I cried for you this morning
Whaled out the pain hidden nene the the mask.
Lips no longer able to curl to form the mask I have carefully constructed.
Slow breaths taken- breathing in that consistent pain. I cried for you this morning.
Wishing Him to be the parent you lost the other you don't want
Praying a shield around you from the elements of your choices.
I cried for you this morning
Tasted the salted pain of love in the midst of frustration abandoned on this island of self blame and inadequacy.
I//Cried//for//you.
Want to hold onto my Vonna, deliver you through the purpose, my chance to relax back into peace. I whaled out the pain of strong woman. Weakened by her child. Reaching out for branches misperceived as roots, watching them snap in half as branches can't take on this weight.
Spewing empty "I love you" failing to activate it as a verb. "I'll pray for y'all" able to reveal the lesson I long taught you that I am the rooted love you'll always have.
Forgiving your lies of nine years absence
Understanding your pain of the missing.
Asking you to let me make you better
Come home, Mama is still here as she always will be.
(A LETTER TO R. Nene)
Dear Heart
The world is changing so fast.
Words are
Too loose to convey strong
Meanings.
They are worn out
With the fast
Flying of time,
With the overwhelming
Power of our madness
For money is madness.
Dear Heart
In me grows your deep
Deep Love
In love, dear Heart,
My Heart is like a
Fire,
An eternal fire
That keeps
Entities to four.
So long!
Remember, my dreams,
First loves
Have all gone out of
My sight.
The padlock hasn’t yet
Broken
My heart, for in it
Lies still
As quiet as the
Queen‘s throne,
As precious as gem,
A splendid abode
For you.
Believe me or not,
Dear Heart
Your love is the right
Way
To follow
Your love is the only
Garden where I could
Plant my red
Red heart.
Take
Me in fresh, dear Heart,
So I may blossom
Forever.
Mars 20012
Conceived in nineteen forty six
By naturalist, Sir Peter Scott,
This wetland paradise now thrives
And teems with ducks and geese and swans.
The wild geese drew Scott to the marsh,
The flood plain of the river Severn,
Where countless wintering wildfowl stop
Upon their migratory journey.
There’re nine varieties of swan
And more than twenty types of geese,
Not to mention ducks by the dozen
With varying plumage through the seasons.
Flamingos, elegant on stilts,
Gather gregariously together.
They make a brilliant splash of colour,
Frome palest pink to brightest orange.
Some stars will often steal the show –
The friendly Nene (Hawaiian Goose);
No fear of man, almost extinct,
Till Scott encouraged breeding pairs.
That shrill cacophony of sound
Which drifts across the shining lake
Is made by happy Whistling Ducks
That yearn to share their thrill of life !
Andean Geese in regal splendour,
Proud pairs that strut upon the shore,
Each one so full of self-importance
That smaller ducks will keep well clear.
Our visit now is near its end;
We bid farewell to feathered friends
And leave with glowing memories
Of Slimbridge on the Severn marsh.
This Regency Dandy flying across the river,
Jumping Jack Flash of kingfisher blue that
I was lucky t see, this dainty dandy of English rivers and streams.
A compact colourful apparition my sore eyes waited some
Sixty years to see, others boast much earlier visitations of these
Bluish-green, orange and red feathers attached to a Cyrano De Bergerac
rapier beak,
Outshining the honking harrying flotillas of Canada geese not capable of
Competing with this fisher of minnows, as we strolled across the Georgian
Bridge at Blatherwycke straddling the nonchalant flowing Nene of this
shire of shires,
Now of only one squire, but still many fine spires in this shire of Northampton.
El Varón, 2010
V. Ortiz Vazquez
Car____li_____tos
Third-second son of Carlitos
O…el nene de mami
Car____li_____tos
“I want that,” he says to everything he sees
Car____li_____tos
“Where is Ca?”
“I love you Ca”
Ca, short for Carlos
O…el nene de mami
Varón, who cries when something goes wrong
Varón, who does not like dirt on himself
Varón, who strips down when at home
Car____li_____tos
Third-second son of Carlitos
O…el nene de mami
El nene de Ca
Talks a lot o hasta por los codos
Runs around the house playing with:
Self
Others and imaginary friends
Carlitos
Car____li_____tos
Third-second son of Carlitos
O…el nene de mami
Car____li_____tos
Varón
Nene de Ca
Strips down
Talks a lot
Runs around the house
Tireless
Energy runs through
Energetic is he
I sit and smile
Amaze
Carlitos
Sub Categories
Looking for the formal definition, structure, and history of this poetry form? Visit the Poetry Dictionary entry below. Then return to explore how PoetrySoup members bring the form to life through their own poems.