alive once again
When I take my last breath and my life fades away, listen for angels with their harps and the happy tune that they play
You see, death is the beginning and is like opening a door, as the hurt and pain you have suffered will be no more
You will no longer be old or confined to a bed; you will be the younger
You and not a grey hair on your head
In heaven with the angels where you belong, reunited with loved ones you thought were long gone
And when they say death is the end and you are no more, you just have to follow the light through that open door
So don’t be afraid and don’t shed a tear; you will not be alone, and there is nothing to fear
So when your time has come and you are no more, just walk a few steps through the open door
To a place of peace and where there is no pain, a place where you are young and feel alive once again.
ONCE AGAIN: OF YESTERDAY, TODAY, AND TOMORROW
(Apropos Of Another Perspective)
Yesterday’s tomorrow has become today,
And will soon become tomorrow’s yesterday:
Associating change and sameness:-
Yesterday’s oppression remains with us today;
And with eyes on the prize, we continue to seek
Tomorrow’s coming reprieve:-
In doing so, let’s be mindful that yesterday’s ancestors did more with less,
Ensuring that we today, with more, would have less to do, to ensure that
Tomorrow’s heirs would indeed be in the gaining of coming liberty:-
Thus, each day perpendicular to the blessed earth, give praise and thanksgiving,
That each day is the blessed day given to us by our Savior’s assurance, that
“Where the spirit of the Lord is, there is liberty.”
When love visits me again, I will not feel like a burden.
I will take in every effort and see how deserving I am, see how worthy I am." — Rede Omowunmi
He felt the quintessence of pure sadness:
He cursed himself for his badness.
The wayward wind wailed within his grief.
Could he ever regain some gladness?
His body trembled like an aspen leaf.
His mind felt like waves smashing on a reef,
Billows flowed to the shore, white foam so fine.
In his heart, he felt a beat so brief.
The struggling sun hugged the western skyline.
He walked down the path, all lined with pine.
Found a chapel, a quiet place to stay.
She was kneeling. Will she be mine?
He brought her red roses just cut in May.
He knelt near her, though he could barely pray.
She looked at him, and she smiled happily.
To Our Lady, he offered her a spray.
I once waited to be loved for years,
Sitting there with uncertainty,
With hopes he might come back,
That love they once showed you when it all began,
And it costs me tears,
A broken heart,
Sleepless nights,
Like what is cost everyone else who waits,
And I have been saved from it,
Someone walked me out of it,
Unseen, underrated,
He did,
So , when feel like you're lost again,
I hope you find your way back,
I pray you don't go back to that path, that pain,
That thing that you have been saved from,
Cause love shouldn't feel like waiting nor begging,
It is, and will always be certain,
Dahil kung kaloob ng langit,
mangyayari kahit hindi ipilit,
once again
little pen
take me
to your garden
of flowers
and towers
where the hours
are all ours
she glides into your life quietly and unobtrusively
pretending to be dainty, shy, demure, fooling you once again
because you are gullible and ready to believe in her good intentions
her first bite is but a neck nibble, not horribly painful
a mistake she giggles, and you believe her
because you really want to
She has those pretty green eyes, and that adorable smile
you give her your heart, and share your bank account
she’s grateful, giddy, and gives you the answers you searched for
let’s move her in you think
all of your relatives are screaming no
because they know you, and they have seen this web before
she is spinning her lies and cheats into a dainty tidy nest
you are caught before you realize how painful her bite really is
Everyone loves him. A nice amicable guy, as he is no relative, he is no refrain. He starts within a rhythm when often a melody is surreal and soars along the flight of the song, up high, high above, where God knows everything about eternal time, beyond the worldly cacophony and hustle and bustle. Sometime a song is a mere glass effect and even though some days are also a lit up chandelier and even after all these I feel homesick for a glow in the dark with a softer greenish hue of prayer bids, long dispersed, long gone, Am I growing in lie, am I hardened in feasts through the festive nights, that knew that everything fits through misfits, ever sustaining to adjust , every discord, every subtlety melting with heartache , mundane trickling down over the smile lines, ever paired?I never wanted to know. My shadow leaves there, before the effort of guessing into the depth.
And Salah rush to myriad, I will come back to thee, after every sound, every note and a long day.
And I will bring shalom to thee!
ONCE AGAIN
Once again, we cry;
Again, a nation apart.
Our togetherness has run dry,
Whitered like a broken heart.
Division kisses oneness goodbye,
And once more and again, we cry.
Greatness is in being together;
Together, no matter the weather:-
Once again, we must sow onement;
Reaping a oneness that is God sent.
Love is once again finally arising in the air
And I am finding myself without a single reason to care,
As I forget the one who never wanted to be there.
I am teaching the dogs about their new hangout
Where they can poop and pee and frolic about
They love it so much as long as I am it here too
But when I leave, my dogs jump up; they are through.
Once more, I am thinking about writing -
coils are uncoiling,
snakes study the intricate anatomy
of legs and next steps.
My audience of one
must be propped up as if yet still alive,
geriatric words must be given their shots.
I can tell it's going to be a performance,
the poem is even now going off script.
It babbles; the entire cast of 'Hamilton'
has just walked out in protest.
Only Prokofiev and his 3rd piano concerto
can save me now, his notes are jungle drums
for the hard of hearing,
however, the write is not a musical
or a concert. It's, it's err...
Anyway, it is almost teatime.
Already the critiques
are sharpening their pencils.
I pull apart my white fancy actors' shirt,
buttons pop exposing the telltale signs
of recent romantic heart surgery.
Now an overwrought muse is yelling in my ear.
Dammit,
I simply cannot write another thing
under these circumstances.
I box up the coiling snakes,
exit left.
I woke up from a warm summer dream,
Winter winds were blowing away the stillness.
Bare branches danced with a quiet scream—
Once again, the world feels empty.
The earth shivers under the blanket of snow,
Hiding the path I once walked.
Dreams melt like frost beneath the pale morning sun—
All that was there is gone.
But even in frozen stillness,
The river flows quietly under the ice,
Carving its way forward.
Even in the silence of snowfall,
New hopes are forming quietly.
Once again, the earth waits,
Knowing spring will come.
The moon shines above the frozen fields,
Whispering promises of tender warmth.
The cycle continues,
And once again,
I hold onto the hope of blossoms—
Of trees painted with pinks.
What sold was for millions as art so grand,
Was bought for a few cents at a fruit stand--
A fancy mall nor mart,
Nor place of art apart,
Nor was banana taped with swanky band.
But a joke so cruel
In art’s name was this all,
Or call it a crime of a dollar land.
______________________
Happenings |02.12.2024| art, irony, humour
Poet’s note: The banana that was sold for millions as an art piece was purchased at a fruit stand outside Sotheby’s auction house for 35 cents apiece, or 4 for one dollar (purchased for $ 5.2 million by a crypto currency entrepreneur-- who else?). How absurd can things go in this so-called world of art gone crazy for money? The banana seller, one called Shah Alam from Bangladesh, literally cried after knowing this. Yes, a joke it was this all, a cruel one for the poor banana vendor. Artist Cattelan pontificates, ‘Art, by its nature, does not solve problems-- if it did, it would be politics’. Indeed, the banana vendor was stunned and left still poor. See ‘Art going bananas’.
I rather be alone
and it's hard for me to say
cuz I know I'm not good
at being by myself
but I rather be alone
than living once again
that empty old life
that I know so well.
Jessica
The dream has ended
I am awake once again!
Please come back to me
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