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Best Poems Written by Kabuteng P.Ink K

Below are the all-time best Kabuteng P.Ink K poems as chosen by PoetrySoup members

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123
Details | Kabuteng P.Ink K Poem

her silent seams



her words,

 now naked.

Finally 

letting them       e
                     e       v
                      v     o
                          l 

and run into
                 silent seams




Copyright © kabuteng P.iNk k. | Year Posted 2012



Details | Kabuteng P.Ink K Poem

Ilaw

The light is muted,
glowing ever so faintly
and I cup my hands
to shelter it from
the harsh wind...

It flickers,
it wavers,
and my heart
does a triple dive
then beats back to normal
as I see that flame
fight, become steady,
and stand up against that wind.

I've seen this happen before,
but it always tries to shine forth
with a ferocity
that can only be fueled 
by love and faith...

A different gust,
another typhoon,
yet still it tries to beam...

This light amazes me 
with its tenacity.
I go through life with
only a mere spark of it
in my heart
But how proud I am
to have been borne from it,
to have it with me, 
burning in my soul.

This light is awe-inspiring...
with just a kiss from it
and warmth abounds,
never burning out,
rather, sharing that glow
to brighten lives.

I fear though, 
for the light is muted,
glowing ever so faintly
and I cup my hands
to shelter it from
the harsh wind...

Taking deep breaths,
we search for ways
to make that flame 
glow strong again,
burning as bright as before

A strike of a match
for a candle,
with its smoke weaving 
its way to heaven,
to say a prayer
for that light
to keep on glowing

The wick may be short,
the wax melting faster
than we would want it to...
But the light is still there,
and that gives me hope.






12272011238p322

Ilaw --pronounced 'ee-lao' as in 'how'; meaning "light"

"Ilaw ng tahanan" is a Filipino idiomatic expression
that refers to mothers; 
This phrase can translate to "light of the home"

Copyright © kabuteng P.iNk k. | Year Posted 2011

Details | Kabuteng P.Ink K Poem

Kuliglig

There she waits by her window,
gazing up at the velveteen summer sky,
searching for her favorite bituin,
whisper-pondering

Only the kuliglig replies—
The quintessential tune of summer. 

Despite herself, she smiles,
happy with the fact that 
the sound fills the night air,
drowning out her own thoughts.

Anything is better than silence.






04022012335a355




Filipino-English translation

bituin—star
kuliglig—cicada, or can also be crickets here

Copyright © kabuteng P.iNk k. | Year Posted 2012

Details | Kabuteng P.Ink K Poem

Obsidian

An almost stillness came about
as she strode into my door,
like breath itself refused to move,
fearful of touching her mysterious beauty

But her obsidian eyes betrayed her. 

Sharp and gleaming,
with a silver sheen
she looked at me, 
and I knew…

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------

Molten lava spilled forth from her mouth, melting our clocks—
eighteen hundred nightmares compressed in two hours.
Long hand moving forward, as the short hand moved backward
How can memories persist in such an acrid life?

She spoke of a beast in the guise of a man,
 one who ravaged innocence with the flick of a click
A coward that collected milk teeth for hardened bones
of other horny beasts with no spine

That throaty tenderness when she spoke 
sprinkled crystal seeds of frustration in me
She says he loathed him, denied she loved him
but her obsidian eyes betrayed her

There she was, a bud he plucked from the nuns’ garden
He grafted then he pruned her, 
spreading her pollen, wafting her scent
yet folding her petals to himself

Caterpillars feeding upon her leaves,
she lets them devour her,
yet once they are wrapped in their cocoons to sleep,
she stabs them with her thorns.

Tears then slid down from her midnight lace eyes
and it was all I could do to catch them
She said she was weary of curtailing butterflies,
of tearing their wings before they can even fly

I had to ask, how many… how many winged gems?
She lifted her sleeves, and showed me her scars
One ugly mark for each innocent child plunged deep,
my heart getting slashed at least three hundred a beat.



-----------------------------------------------------------------------------


A certain stillness came about
as I strode into her door,
like fear itself refused to move,
letting breath touch her mysterious beauty for the last time....

Her obsidian eyes had betrayed her. 

Sharp and gleaming,
with a silver sheen
I looked at the knife beside her.

Maroon-mapped sheets, a stunted womb.
 
Strains of Bon Iver’s “Flume”
flit past the sighing air like a butterfly,
and I knew…









08112014

Copyright © kabuteng P.iNk k. | Year Posted 2014

Details | Kabuteng P.Ink K Poem

Suncatcher --recited

A visitor— icicle fingers tapping on my windows' pain— white blanket in tow Hurting enough, I paid him no mind so he kept tap, tap, tapping ‘til cobweb-like cracks appeared: a final, gentle tap shatters my windows My rainbow world now smothered, pallid, forced into boredom and slumber, sunlight chased away and I am never the same again… Soul gets plunged deep in the cold blinded by whiteness, numbed with simplicity there is an eerie stillness, almost as if no one dared to breathe, even the barren trees refused to quiver brittle dendrites seem to claw the sky futile though, for they are frozen, grasping at nothingness, clouds stubborn and stoic, brooding in silent grayness …and then from within, a filigreed whisper escapes palpable and brave~ it weaves its way through the branches, gathering strength wherever it went it beckons to the sky, which in turn gives in and celebrates ~ letting dainty confetti fall white, yet amazingly graceful each flake falls softly on the ground— a fashionable brocade trees softly sway now, and dance to a winter song the sky weeps with happiness for seeing a glimpse of life— diamond teardrops they catch a bit of evasive sunlight, of which I thought I’ve lost and give birth to miniature rainbows… all this time, Sunlight was there I just never knew how to catch it.
an audio of me reciting this poem http://www.4shared.com/music/Q_tqp2LEba/suncatcher.html?#

Copyright © kabuteng P.iNk k. | Year Posted 2011



Details | Kabuteng P.Ink K Poem

Forty Today

Visited you today
as the sun set in the horizon…

the orange tinged carnations 
were a perfect complement 
for the skies
and for you… 
orange and blue
always remind me of you

the winds softly blew
and I just sat there
staring at the grass,
well more at your name really…

hardly believing
what I am looking at, 
that it’s been seven years

of missing you,
of just putting that reality
at the back of my mind…

But there are days,
such as today
which make me 
confront that reality—

I see your smile,
remember your laughter
celebrate your spirit
and your love

Tears, I tell you I have
the most stubborn tears
maybe because they 
make it so real for me?

I look around me
and look for that sign

Nope, not there…

I say a prayer
and speak to you
thankful for the life shared

I kiss the date that you were born

and walk away

my reflection on the car window
misty

One last look around,

and then I see it…

a cat, as we drive away…

Skies now streaked purple and pink


**My brother would have been 40 today, May 6…

Copyright © kabuteng P.iNk k. | Year Posted 2011

Details | Kabuteng P.Ink K Poem

where barren branches touch newborn leaves

Scurrying on my way home, a little leaf catches my eye, and I am compelled yet again to slow down.

a whirlwind of thoughts
compete with swaying of trees~
lone leaf on my shoe

I am not sure exactly when my fascination for falling leaves started, there is just something so beautiful and artistic in which they drift to the ground....I recall one particular moment in my college literature class when my professor inquired into my choice of the word "wither" in my leaf metaphor for a dying old couple. 

My explanation involved telling him that for me, that particular word had a certain gracefulness to it, and that was how I saw that couple in their twilight years. But I deviate, for I merely intend to write about the interesting tree that I saw the other day. I do not know what species it is, but it bears its berry-like fruits on its branches and it has cordate leaves.

barren branches touch
newborn leaves on other side--
a paradox tree

A smile languidly forms together with my memory of seeing that same tree six days post double-faced state. It proudly donned a full crown of leaves in less than a week. With this image in mind, I can’t help but feel mystified, with the constancy and dichotomy of change….It seems like everything around me is continuously evolving, revolving. I can’t help but feel lost.

Almost in defiance to this line of thinking, I shake the leaf off my shoe, and trample on it. Instead of feeling satisfied, I feel guilt. I never did forget that Enid Blyton tale of how dried leaves were actually fairies. 

littered autumn road
I stomp on the frail fallen….
my feet crushing death

Rolling my eyes with my melodramatic thoughts, I continue my walk home. It’s crazy how leaves can make me go philoloopysical. I am tempted to actually stop in the middle of the road and simply sit there—be among the trees as the wind serenades them, with the leaves swaying gently, some choosing to pirouette, some doing the salsa dip.  

Being the practical person that I am, I just run my fingers along my wind-discoed hair. If it were possible, I would like to be a leaf. I find such nobility and grace to it. Imagine being able to capture light, transforming energy to create nourishment. Giving, breathing life. There is a delicate artistry with the changing of its colors—a complex, fascinating chemistry in each blade that I’m sure God is so proud of.

eyes gently follow
  dying trail of withered leaf;
wind sighs its mourning


I pick up one leaf to remind me...

11202015

Copyright © kabuteng P.iNk k. | Year Posted 2015

Details | Kabuteng P.Ink K Poem

Interwoven

Place your head on my shoulder,
let it stay there
and we'll just breathe
together
in
...and... out

Inhale positivity,
exhale negativity-

Pluck the sadness from the air,
unravel that ball of worry...
We'll find that knot
that started it all,
untangle it, 
and wave ribbons 
in the air

We'll let those colors swirl
around each other,
we'll blend them...
then weave them

into a tapestry

that comforts us 
in the end

Doesn't matter 
at all
if it turns out
 too short

Our lives
are full of tangles
anyway,
a lot of thread
out there...

So place your hand in mine,
let it stay there,
and we'll weave
together
...in
...and... out...






03062011619p637

Copyright © kabuteng P.iNk k. | Year Posted 2011

Details | Kabuteng P.Ink K Poem

Lessons Learned from Trees

"A woodland path in the dappled sun, hushed and quiet "

                                                             ~A Rambling Poet~



A canopy of trees
filters the sun for me,
and I am grateful...
For I do not feel like 
having the rays glare
in my eyes today,
in a brooding mood I am.

The earth is damp,
drunken with dew,
seemingly commiserating
with me

I lay myself down,
jagged rocks beneath me
--cutting, rough--
and I welcome it
For it grounds me,
a reminder
that not everything 
is sunlight and blooms

I sink in my darkness
and close my eyes
to dwell in it and drown,
just sighing

For an eternity,
I am mired with
muck and moss in my mind,
thoughts eroding
to nothingness

...until I open my eyes
to Wonderment

The trees above me 
stand tall and proud
in their radial glory,
the sun just
breaking through,
shimmering, dappling
my cold being

Leaves gilt with light
blink back in awe
and I am floored,
blanketed by warmth
of hushed spirits 
surrounding me

These trees 
tell their tales
of growth and survival,
of yearning for 
that light,
of their struggle
to catch a glimpse
of heaven...
of capturing 
its light,
using it,
feeding off from it,
in order to 
give back to others

some of them stumble
yet most of them
succeed

I am humbled.
I am awed.

Yes, the canopy
gave me shade,
temporary darkness
from the light,
I look up again
and realize
that the tiniest
pinholes of hope exist,
reaching deep within...

little sparks
that set off
a chain reaction
of life




--June 11-12 (2011)

Copyright © kabuteng P.iNk k. | Year Posted 2011

Details | Kabuteng P.Ink K Poem

Whipped


Watching the trees 
get whipped by wind and rain,
      I thought of the birds

of falling nests 
and    
broken wings,

why are there none 
at my window today?

Yesterday they were here, 
when the liquid curtains fell

Let them seek shelter here.

I hear them distantly, 
and pray they are well,
braving gust and water,
far, far stronger 
than me. 




08212013100.202

Copyright © kabuteng P.iNk k. | Year Posted 2013

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