778.
The 2 Black Widows
May 2 ama…
Na naglahong parang bula…
Parehong namatay sila…
Sa eroplanong sakay nila…
At dahil doon, may 2 biyuda…
Na naghangad maging reyna…
Oh kawawang Kambal na Agosto…
Nabahiran ng dugo…
Nina Ninoy Aquino…
At Jesse Robredo…
Upang iluklok mga asawa nito…
Ang 2 Black Widows na yellow…
-02/22/2020
(Dumarao)
*EDSA 1 Anniversary
Old Mrs. Gable stared from
her porch with cold, hollow
eyes.
Children avoided her rotting
mansion, fearing her sharp,
bitter tongue.
When she died inside, the
neighborhood breathed a
sigh of relief.
Yet the heavy velvet curtains
still twitched whenever
anyone walked by.
The rusted front gates would
screech open, inviting the
curious inside.
Those who dared enter
found her scowling portrait
watching their steps.
Her rocking chair swayed on
the hardwood with no wind
around.
A raspy, phantom voice
hissed from the dark,
demanding they leave.
Then the doors slammed
shut, locking the trespassers
in her trap.
She is still entity, and now
they belong to her house
forever.
How can I go on?
I reach out for you
To be in your arms
But then I awake
My tears start to flow
I'm trapped here in life.
Swift winds,
Soft morning dew.
Smells surround me,
Sudden thoughts of you.
You left so soon,
I did not know what to do.
I close my eyes,
Bitter days gone by.
In your time, did you think of me?
Did you wonder where I could be?
One day comes,
Another day leaves.
You did not cherish all that was good,
You did not love me the way you should.
You passed from this life,
No more longing, no more strife.
Bough breaks, flowers toil.
Feet planted firm, planted firm in the soil.
Widow’s walk frightens me
Look outs are not my choice of tea
Come on up to the crow’s nest!
Mom’s idea is not the best
I am frightened to death of tall heights
I give her grief, whining, crying and lots of fights
I well never be caught on a bell tower day or night.
These heights give me a fright, they are not right.
widows speak their jargon
we don’t all speak the same language
they don’t understand me
i don’t understand them
i’m mystified to find
they’re foreign to me
we have in the end
surprisingly little in common
i hate platitudes
i can’t seem to talk to anyone
without getting frustrated
things I guess
are complicated
subtle differences heightened
come to a head
no one it seems
listens with their heart
AP: Honorable Mention 2022
Body Politic
David J Walker
The shooting never stops
Until the bullets are all gone and the
Bombs are all dropped on the city streets
in the way of a foreign
Body politic
Declaring a breach of its borders
And ironically orders an invasion
So goes the persuasion of
Defensive strategies and arguments
Concerning armaments
Employing the services of accountants
Keeping death tolls and destruction
And payments to
Widows and orphans
Veterans with lost limbs
Trying to remember when
Things were different
Back then
Echummi was married
even before she learnt to
wear a saree
and when she did learn
she learnt to wear white
only white
and often when she passed a mirror
what she saw would chill her spine..
A shaven head, bare hands
and bare forehead
Oh! how she would have loved
to see colors..
A big red bindi, green bangles
a purple saree-
She was taught to drape herself
In a way she could hide her curves
And so Echummi learnt
to conceal her beauty,
to hide her youth
and to drown her verves
''Don't look at men ''she was warned,
And Echummi learnt
to curb her senses
and her impulses;
she learnt to stifle her
dreams and her sobs;
She learnt to sleep on hard floors
not yearn for a caress or a touch;
Echummi learnt to cook every dish
And to abstain from delicious food,
She learnt to be absent
on all auspicious occasions
and not cross the path
of propitious people,
She learnt to go unnoticed
unrecognized
like a shadow on the wall..
Unheard, unseen
sinking into oblivion..
Echummi learnt to die
even when she was alive!
The many widows have a lock on they mouth,
The reason for widowhood will be deep hide.
The killer helped ms Smith this position allowed,
And for ms Jones helped just a dose cyanide.
the widows’ club
seasoned companions
suitcases full of wit
playmates up for adventure
out for an escapade
consortium of allies
league of septuagenarians
a powerhouse of wisdom
tote travel bags of history
AP: Honorable Mention 2020
The banker didn’t see me,
but I saw.
The bag behind the bush contained
everything.
Clothes. Food. Memories.
Everything that was left of an indigent life.
Forced to part with all their worldly possessions
for a moment,
perhaps to pee, perhaps to eat, perhaps to beg for widow’s mites,
someone had hidden the bag under the bush
like a broken wren,
delicate, consecrated with the hope it might fly again,
if it survives all the things that crawl in the dust.
The banker must have thought it convenient,
the way that life was stuffed in a 40 gallon bag
ready to be pitched.
How easily he threw it away.
A chore he enjoyed
for once.
He had no sudden awakening
to save him from his egregious sin.
No angel tried to mediate his cruel delerium.
The wind just played with his tie
as he returned to work, obtuse.
Contest sponsor John Hamilton, Eight Word Challenge 9
9/6/2019
beautiful red-headed bucking star
brilliant whorls- green aurora-eyed
quick-minded, sprinting faster than light
thought I could tame it-bring it to its knees
but she's also a teaser, artist supreme
painter of widows and orphan dreams
she bucked me off like all the rest
into a black wall of red star regrets
here we lie broken, gazing at the sky
praying for another chance for a
wild bucking star ride
Through the uncurtained widows
Of life we see hope rise and fall like
A knife
Through a shrill scream
Of a darkened dream
We feel thrills
And hopes rising higher
Like flames of midnight desires
Only to awaken to the same
As hopes falling
Tripping down over lifes
Games
Whips upon my back
Silence upon my tongue
As my mind whispers in the silence
Of my head
Sleep please hold me upon my bed
For my visel feels strangle
Trapped between
A dream and realty
A dreamer who only feels alive
Within a dream..
Hear the silence whisper's
Within my head..
love is to a heart
as black widow is to mate
they can be killers
I gave you my change....
Because that's all I had left.
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