A map peppered
With modern skyscrapers
And tranquil hamlets
Have I traversed today -
A map colored
In vibrant yellow tones
Of laughs and smiles galore
Have I traversed today.
And yet -
A map littered
With ruins of shattered
Buildings, cities, lives
Do I witness today -
A map tainted
With bloody, scarlet hues
Of warfare and struggle
Do I witness today.
And yet -
The same earth holds
Cities, towns, villages -
The same joy pervades
Young, old, and all in between.
The same soil sees
Cities, countries collapse -
The same heart beats
Within, as blood pours.
The map does hold
Several stories untold
Of people so diverse
Yet sharing the same soul.
Defrosting that damned freezer feels like a lifetime’s work;
a silently leaking judgement from something I’d neglected.
Midnight cracks reveal something wrong, something broken -
hot steam, blankets and warm pans mock a makeshift spa.
In the dripping a wall is revealed, a cavernous backdrop uncovered;
White Cliffs of Dover in a snowstorm, traversed with ice picks.
The black cat traversed the alley
when the pavement kept the rain.
The houses gave no answer.
No one looked out from the windows.
It walked across
the broken concrete.
It stood near the wall of bricks
until the rain
tapped the metal above its head.
It passed those corners
as before.
It let out one low cry.
The alley heard it alone.
The storm stayed over the alley.
The alley then grew silent.
Daylight came over the roofs.
The old bricks kept their place
but no shadow crossed them.
FIXATION
Eager eyes and a hopeful heart
of innocent and pure intent.
Just to be in close proximity
gives smitten eyes their glint.
Clouds beneath infatuated feet,
lost in daydreams through the night.
Weakened knees and butterflies,
the tell tale signs of loves first bite
Who's not traversed that winding road,
whose ups and downs are not yet shown?
Each twist a chance to turn romance
into love, loss, or the friend zone.
It's a tight rope walk on eggshells,
drama traps made to anger or please.
Perchance you reach the other side,
and the juice just ain't worth the squeeze.
The lesson here, though all too clear,
is lost to infatuation.
Loyal and steadfast makes love last,
sparks are frivolous fixations.
Sent out with a mission;
Embraced with a assignment;
Running through the forest;
Tracking through the valley;
Discovering a boarded cave;
Traversed through a tunnel;
Stumbling upon a hilly place;
Climbing a mountain;
Feeling a lot like a race;
Requiring a ton of grace.
THE ROADS I'VE TAKEN
I've traveled down some of lifes long roads,
they get you there, and they take their toll.
I've cruised the freeways without a care,
the top down, tunes up, wind in my hair,
and I felt each low road bump and hole.
Can anyone know what a road will bring
having never traversed it before?
'Tis safe when the roads are close to home,
'twas fated when they all led to Rome,
but life is the open road, explore.
Who know himself tries to pick the road
that suits his unique disposition.
When the dusty road chooses the man,
and he's doing the best that he can,
the journey brings dreams to fruition.
Fresh black asphalt winds among the trees.
The open road calls neath skies of blue.
The road doesn't care to know your name,
regardless of your fortune or fame.
In this ol' world all you have is you.
Lost and alone on a dead end road
there's no one else on which to depend.
Life never promised you easy street
or cursed your path so you can't compete.
Your life to live, or not, in the end.
A line divides the bed they share
a line, invisible, but there.
Between the North, South East, or West
who knows which side now offers rest?
Post-angered words it widens so
a space where unspent feelings flow
and neither dares encroach this place
with cautious touch or first embrace.
The line did not exist at first
when then their tangled limbs traversed
the bed at any angle known;
no part of it they claimed to own.
Now he lies left, and she lies right
the border crossed by some invite;
and neither knows the reason why
some nights allow, and some deny.
A line divides the bed they share
a line, invisible, but there.
“Spring drew on...and a greenness grew over those brown beds,
which, freshening daily, suggested the thought that Hope traversed
them at night and left each morning brighter traces of her steps.”
~ Charlotte Brontë, Jane Eyre
I feel the caress of Spring's gentle breeze
wafting through meadows and verdant hills
and swaying branches of budding maple trees
Spring welcomes rain as each drop softly spills
dampening the cheeks of my upturned face
until the sun's warmth relieves me of my chills
It's the season that I so lovingly embrace
when flowers grow in vast, colorful profusion
lovelier in a garden than in a vase
Lavender scents the air with sweet infusion
To God and Nature, I bestow gratitude
for the beauty found in their collusion
Spring arrives offering hope renewed
and fresh beginnings are redolently imbued
This measureless waste
Traversed alone
Of what does for a vagrant
Always bemoan.
Speak I not russian
Nor do, kazakh.
That heard of this wind species
Was it passed on
Through eagle's, harrier's quick
Decoding knack.
She wrote of the fields she walked
the lakes she traversed
Her stick in one hand
her pen in her purse
Wherever none existed
she planted arbors
Revered by all, known by none
~ ‘til she was called back to harbor
Just a dot on a dot in this universe
each being so small, until traversed
to unit with creation larger than life
to feel the force, just to be... without strife
56.
My 12th Leaf
Picked thee from a vine
Name unknown to mine
Hanging on the air
To passersby bare
What plant are you? Tell!
Men on middle age
Girls looking teenage
Those men were standing
The girls were walking
Strangers on the road
Nineteenth November
From class just after
Fine day – sun was high
Filamer bye bye
Was about to climb
Overpass school zone
Traversed all alone
Trellis – on school side
Opposite – trike ride
And novelty store
Sat. class first time me
English MAT
Night – Ante Mily
Came from UAE
Twelfth Leaf memory.
-11/19/2011
(Dumarao)
*My Toladas Collection
I am grateful for having lived long enough…
having traversed life’s ebb and flow
to be around to watch my family grow
and grow and grow.
And I am just as grateful every day
for all the friends I’ve made along the way.
Finally as a new year begins
as I turn the next corner…the next bend…
I’m grateful for my friends who have become my family
and how my family have become my friends…
On the first day of Christmas
'twas a silent night 'neath yonder star
(while shepherds watched their flocks)
when three Wise Men traversed afar
to view a new-born child
as in a fairy tale storybook fable
(away in a manger)
ensconced in a stable
all the while bearing gifts
yet although a total stranger
they did leave him their presents
under the tree where they belong
(there in Bethlehem)
but before departing they sang this song...
'Happy birthday to you
happy birthday to you
happy birthday dear Jesus
happy birthday to you'
The spent year sinks in the captivating cauldron of history,
traces a fading furrow on traversed time by the setting sun,
etched on the realm of remote remembrance weary,
the new year comes blooming buds of promise one by one.
Janus opens routinely for me the door to the new beginning,
after my time crosses the corridor of the worn-out year,
I’ll weave unseen dreams in the tapestry of future ensuing,
unsung songs I’ll sing for the seasons as they will appear.
Along the path God paves for me I’ll begin the new journey
with cornucopia of resolute resolutions to make me wise,
reach amused the edge of the time plateau I don’t see,
yearning to greet 2026 with a joyous sunrise in my skies.
Maybe I’ll make naive the old mistakes many more time,
but resolve to commit them the way they won’t repeat.
I’ll swathe life with some fun, make jokes of me in rhyme,
and laugh my heart out as seemingly senseless stupid feat.
I’ll express profuse gratitude to those close to me I’ll see,
even if they don’t take me as I am with imprudence inbred.
For my muse my pen will be re-filled with ink in glee,
I’ll keep on writing poems that may not disappear unread.
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