Before nothing bothered me,me,
I walked under the bright sun,
I waited until it went down
to find that spark
from a rising star;
I loved to play my guitar!
Julie waited for me,
smelling a wild rose
she picked on the way
to our hiding place;
on those summer's nights,
my warm arms wrapped around her:
it was the libido of sensual Romeo.
We laughed, we smiled,
not counting hours,
oh, it's the first night
I let these tears
flow so quickly;
nothing around me
is joyful and pretty,
because I lied
to the cutest girl alive.
O dark night
send dazzling moonbeams
to excite my libido
of sensual Romeo.
even the angry moonlight hides;
do I have to beg, scream and cry,
turn around and go home,
make up a ridiculous alibi
that's not needed anymore?
It's the first night
I'm crying in desperation,
without that heart
driving me wild;
it' s the first night
I'm ignored and pushed aside
to excite my libido
of sensual Romeo.
That summer of 1969 in Venice still resonates within me...
A Slovak boy, Mario, and an Italian girl, Laura – fourteen and thirteen years old.
She had long chestnut hair and captivating eyes…
We sat on a bank by a bridge in the evening,
while illuminated boats floating on the lagoon.
The song Sotto le stelle, Beneath the Stars, played from a nearby bar.
I listened with amazement to that melodic speech, watching her charming gestures.
I didn't understand a word, yet I felt a blissful warmth in my heart...
Suddenly, heavy rain began to fall; Laura gave me a quick kiss on the cheek
and vanished under the arcade of a weathered building.
Just then, a shooting star fell...
I have carried the imprint of her lips in my heart all my life.
If Romeo and Juliet could meet
And mate enmasque a thousand years ago,
Then our short period of trick and treat
Could generate a love none would outgrow.
For we hid not behind a frightened mask,
Nor sought protection cleverly disguised;
With eager joy we warmed up to the task
And found ourselves most pleasantly surprised.
Discovery and moonlit interlude
Replaced by coffee bars and taxi rides;
No balcony to climb, no attitude
To change, our long-developed love abides.
The Bard wrote “star-crossed lovers” with his pen,
But we are not; let’s do it all again!
They wonder why I don't write about love
Love is hard to describe cause it came from above
God loves us and we should love Him back
He forgives us of all our sins we can't keep track
Don't know what this did to us human beings
We don't love each other like we love earthly things
Feeling like Tupac he did speak truth
Thinkin 'bout getting on a beat from Charlie Puth
Men do really love they might even sweat
They living like Romeo finding their Juliet
Might even drink poison to follow the heartbeat
And come back to life and do it all on repeat
Hope Juliet faithful when Romeo not around
Not when he goes away then she goes out of bound
Might throw this away right after I'm done
Papa Romeo finna put on my head a gun
Anthropology studies human societies,
human culture, humankind, human us.
You were the anthropologist that sifted through
the baubles of life I mired in the fissures
of the way I spoke impedimented English.
But you were my diction that weaved between
the w’s I mispronounced and the ph’s I forgot to shape.
I reached for the dove's excalibur to accept that you, my love,
have bewitched the melody against the carnage that consumed
all my adoration for you, only to be transfixed
by the Black Excalibur in your virgin hands.
And I had to relearn how to survive, how to stand,
resurrected from being a cold, dead man.
I am the Romeo that breathed first.
In the doomed book I refused the poison.
And you married Count Paris.
Our doom painted blue and red on human society.
Now the anthropologist observes purple remains
stained on the ink of dirty historical papers.
Romeo and Juliet were fiction
as if that's not enough
her balcony in Verona
originally a medieval sarcophagus
no more than a tourist attraction
may also have been a water trough
and the Dal Capello family building
where he posed 'through yonder window?'
'but soft' and completely off-the-cuff
to which it's now attached
was once a 13th-century inn
but as stories go really quite unmatched
With apologies to William Shakespeare
Juliet’s wondrous lover, Romeo*
serves as an epitome of a perfect husband, more than a beau---
oh, may he resurrect and multiply to fill the demand of an ideal spouse
prayed for by every lady needing a father in a godly home-fortressed house**.
*Shakespeare’s protagonist in his play, Romeo and Juliet
**Psalm 127:1 Except the Lord build the house, they labour in vain that build it: except the Lord keep the city, the watchman waketh but in vain.
January 6, 2026
3rd place, "A Literary Character Clerihew" Poetry Writing Contest
Sponsored by Andrea Dietrich; judged on 1/13/2026
Love is not won by conquest,
But by love.
If you really love someone
Don't force her
To go against her nature.
It's by far a disaster.
Don't wait her speak first,
When she's most helpless.
She will be moved by compassion,
And anger later.
He who initiates love most
Receives the love he deserve.
Love shared by two
In war and peace,
Is the most epic of all
Ever written in a love story.
Every whisper fades to silence,
Every touch a fleeting lie.
I search for meaning in their gazes,
But love has never met my eye.
They take my trust, they take my kindness,
Turn my soul into their game.
A pawn upon their twisted chessboard,
A heart consumed by nameless pain.
I wonder if I’ll ever find it,
A love that stays, a love that’s real.
Or if I’ll drown in empty echoes,
Lost in wounds that never heal.
I reach, I call, I dream in shadows,
But no one answers, no one hears.
A Romeo without his Juliet,
A love eclipsed by hollow years.
The world is cold, the nights grow longer,
Every promise turns to dust.
A sacrificial lamb to cruelty,
A heart that dared believe in trust.
They weave their webs, they play their mind games,
Like love’s a prize to steal away.
But in their wake, they leave me hollow,
With no more hope, with naught to say.
So here I stand—no shield, no savior,
As night devours the dawn once bright.
I have never known true love,
And now, I doubt I ever might.
The love that knows no boundary set by clan;
The clans that know no love except for war;
The flower that dares to bloom, but never can;
This then the story Shakespeare told, in core.
And what the nature of a petty feud?
Where pride replaces peaceful, prosperous life;
Where little things as mountains are construed,
And things far greater die within its strife.
How might a lesser quill have writ the tale?
One family good, the other dripping ill;
The timeless lie, the righteous must prevail;
And happiness the final act to fill.
But not these things, you had much more to say:
And that is why we think of you today.
alfa romeo
convertible at high speeds
freedom redefined
‘Romeo, Romeo! Wherefore art thou Romeo?’
(Romeo and Juliet, Act 2, Scene 2)
Romeo, Romeo! Wherefore art thou Romeo?
Juliet, it is so cold when we perform this sweet tableau
so, twixt my legs, just a tiny icicle does grow.
Is it she you call sweet Rose that saps the strength from my sweet beaux?
That you wilt leave me so unsatisfied and not your gift bestow?
Thus, each night, you have such words which you dost nag and crow
and with them, it is that makes my manhood fail to show.
I Once gazed my wond’ring eyes upon your bulging codpiece so
Yet now, not so, again I ask; Wherefore art thou Romeo?
Oh my sweet Juliet, I am indeed in deepest woe;
this night, Friar Laurence, with my blue potion failed to show.
‘Romeo, Romeo! Wherefore art thou Romeo?‘
(Romeo and Juliet, Act 2, Scene 2)
By Shakespeare
that night they were to meet
but Romeo got cold feet
on Valentines Day
he went away
Romeo was afraid to commit
because he would have to submit
her sweet exterior
hid her real demeanor
she passed herself as shy and sweet
but he knew he would take a back seat
so, he sent her a short letter
saying “I’m outta here!”
Dear Romeo,
There is no time on the clock that does not hold your memory. There is always a breeze in the air that carries the essence of your presence.
The most pleasurable sight of my entire life is the lotus I have. My lord of life and love, I offer you my purest feelings, for they are the only treasure I possess—a collection of years, the purest of the pure and the sweetest of the sweet.
I have nothing but vivid images in which you looked so beautiful and soft, like a flower.
I cried hard, but love did not vanish into the sea of seven tears—neither the love from my heart nor the flame of you from my mind.
This Valentine’s Day, I am still waiting for you, this time far away in an unknown land.
My dear Romeo, a day will come when time shall turn, and I shall find you, for love never goes unrewarded.
In this city of temples, I will worship in every shrine for years, praying for our union. And I hope you will come from the city of trains.
May you glow more and more in the moonlight as you watch over my balcony.
My moon-like Romeo.
Farewell, dear child, with whom I shared my joys,
Who suckled at my breasts as didst my own.
May thou find in the world where thou now art
All that thy heart desired while still alive,
But this our living world had thee denied.
Too young to have gone in the realm of shade
(Fourteen short summers only thou had lived),
Oh, would that I could give some of my years
To thee, I would most willingly extend
For thee to breathe once more and with thy grace
Give light to the house of the Capulets.
Farewell, farewell, thou victim of young love
Which love, though beautiful, consumes with fire
And makes one blind to society's norms
And even to break from strong kinship ties
To seek to be in the beloved's arms.
Farewell, my darling child, rest now thy heart!
This sepulcher though cold and hard shalt be
A citadel that for eternity
Thou and thy Romeo wilt never part.
November 8, 2024
Baguio City, Philippines
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