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Kp Nunez Poem
To take each day as it comes
To gratefully praise The One
Joyfully face the new dawn’s grace,
That's now my everyday plan.
To take each day as it comes
To guard my thought as it roams
On anything or anyone
That's now my everyday plan.
To take each day as it comes
To be careful with my words
To use the value of my hands
That's now my everyday plan.
To take each day as it comes
To do everything I can
And bring a smile to not just one
That's now my everyday plan.
To take each day as it comes
To celebrate other’s gain
Not consciously cause another's pain
That's now my everyday plan.
To take each day as it comes
Not all the time comes the sun
For sorrow comes to everyone
And that I must understand.
To take each day as it comes
And know that I’m but a man
I will be glad, life’s not that bad
And do my part in God’s plan.
*A resolution during a time of disappointment.
Kim Patrice Nunez
04 August 2015
image credit: Edwin Hofert
Copyright © Kp Nunez | Year Posted 2015
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Kp Nunez Poem
(For My Younger Self)
You have forgotten your muse.
You neglected her, in the hustle and bustle
of city life, in trying to carve a niche,
driving yourself too hard -
thinking it could make you rich.
She grieves.
Don’t you see her? She grieves.
How she longs to reunite with you
but you are far too busy, with everything new.
Too unmindful, too steeped in the practical
your change was so radical;
Too pragmatic, everything has become automatic.
You have lost touch with your muse,
no matter how she pleads you have become obtuse.
When will you reach into the softer,
more introspective part of yourself?
Please do not say, never.
Remember how you would write through the night
and people around you would wonder why…
Those moments were priceless,
the times you communed with words so ageless
as you poured onto paper all your emotions -
In the night, you would write of happiness and pain,
of a young love, and of your simple dreams.
Go back to those simple dreams.
Do not allow yourself to be lost
in the conundrum that is Life.
Step back, take stock, be still.
Find time for meditation, there is no condemnation
for those who acknowledge the need for salvation.
And as you find that inner peace,
write once more.
Write, and write some more.
Set free all those words that have long been kept
within your heart…the happy words, the sad words,
words both simple and intricate
that a reader will enjoy as he masticates
the meaning, the lesson, the joy and young wisdom.
Let your words dance…let your words s o a r !
31 October 2015
Poem of the Day 01 November 2015
Awarded 1st Place - What Would You Say Contest
Copyright © Kp Nunez | Year Posted 2015
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Kp Nunez Poem
The wonder of nature you describe with the color of feelings
that even the blind sees the beauty, for you anoint with your sight.
From my forgotten core, words you inspire gush forth in indignant prose
like the lion who protects her young, who roars in warning lest she devour.
You lend me insight from your wisdom and give me laughter with your wit,
you pump the pulse in my veins when passion and sensuality is lit.
You kindle the fire in this heart when love is found
and collect the ash from the burnt cinder that haunts, when love is lost.
You hold my breath in exhilaration when I soar to triumphant heights,
the balm that soothes my pain when I’m down, your song remains
the solace I have found when life is hard, and the one profound
expression of the myriad emotions that defy words of common use.
O Poetry, you bring tears to my eyes, when in your lines I feel God cries
as I endure and withstand the ugliness, the haughtiness, of someone’s pride.
Yet with the turn of page and time, you coax from my lips such radiant smile
for with each stage in this life of mine, a poem is birthed, flutters, and flies.
24 May 2015
Poem of the Week - 31 May to 06 June 2015
Awarded 1st Place for both A Poets's Worth Contest and My Favorite Poem Contest
Copyright © Kp Nunez | Year Posted 2015
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Kp Nunez Poem
Can a child ever forget, how deep a mother’s love abides
All those days since birth, till now I’m grown she guides
Remembering her smile, so tender, so warm as her embrace
More than soothes away my pain, my fear of failure and disgrace
Even in my dreams she comforts, her voice, her scent would stay
Never will her being mother stop, till when I’m old and gray.
26 March 2015
Contest : Acrostic on Mother's Day - 1st Place
Sponsor : TAMMY REAMS
Copyright © Kp Nunez | Year Posted 2015
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Kp Nunez Poem
Lapis lazuli mines with wide blue eyes
bringing to mind precious stones and
caramel scones; innocent and wise -
Wondering, yet without surprise.
Staring down the universe, a challenge
in your look though you are young;
The earth made only nine revolutions
since you came out to see the sun.
Unguarded and arched, your brows
betray high wire tension; enough
to light up a hundred moons and warm
plump cheeks to cherry bubble gum.
Be not impatient to grow; you smell
of open grasshopper meadows
and firefly lighted lakeshore walks.
You’re a mother’s envy and pride.
Red lips! Your passion for life exists.
Scarlet, lipstick would be a surfeit -
Today as then till many summer’s been,
your spirit will always be free as the mist.
After: Portrait of Carol Nye Rhoades (Robinson) (1915)
For Debbie Guzzi's Challenge: Ten Pictures, Ten Poems, Ten Days - Painting No. 2
Kim Patrice Nunez
08 January 2016
Poem of the Week: January 10-16, 2016
Copyright © Kp Nunez | Year Posted 2016
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Kp Nunez Poem
To forgive or not to forgive, that is the question.
When you are offended, whether real or imagined
by a loved one, a friend, or by someone esteemed,
do you confront the other, or resolve to be patient?
If by some stroke of luck, the offender apologized
but turns around, talking glib gobbledygook,
do you keep silent and still, looking cool as ice,
or do you tell it to his face, that he’s more than a crook?
At such time as this, or any time for that matter,
it is best to forgive whether he asks for it or not.
Do not poison your heart with cyanide blather;
bitterness can bother like a bat’s up your butt!
Forgiveness frees the offended from the devil’s deceit;
and makes you smile at the debtor, as his debt, you forfeit.
*First line draws on Hamlet's soliloquy, Act III, Scene 1; W. Shakespeare
A modern sonnet.
06 October 2015
Poem of the Week - October 11 to 17, 2015
Copyright © Kp Nunez | Year Posted 2015
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Kp Nunez Poem
I paint your beauty in my heart and mind
in swirling strokes of wind squalls and light;
the youthful lift of limbs of early spring,
with summer’s joyful red, with fall's surprise.
I paint you in wonder of winter’s white
through snow storm's chill and my loving eyes.
I paint you beyond the blue pain of the past
with the gray of fear the future hides.
Jealous of luring space and power of time,
yet, with all the hope, the joy, the ache
as seen in the strength of my trembling hand;
I’ll paint you again my child, mesmerized.
After: L'Enfant au Tablier Rouge, 1886 by Berthe Morisot
For Debbie Guzzi's Challenge: Ten Pictures, Ten Poems, Ten Days - Painting 8
Kim Patrice Nunez
17 January 2016
Copyright © Kp Nunez | Year Posted 2016
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Kp Nunez Poem
It’s siesta, yet one can hear from the second floor of the house the animated sharing of juicy news some visitors have brought to the gracious host, the lovely widow of a wealthy sugar planter. The sound of laughter is carried over the charming veranda bordered by lacy cast-iron grillwork, with its delicate oak leaf and acorn design and colorful, overhanging ornamental plants and flowers.
Three Creole society matrons in their typical 1840s long dress fashion despite the sultry heat are being served their tea and fanned by the owner’s black slaves. They are talking about the strange happenings at what used to be Dr. Louis and Mdme. Delphine Lalaurie’s grand house at 1140 Royal Street, a few houses away from the where they are having an afternoon gossip. Apparently, the last tenant abandoned the Lalaurie house not only because of some ghost sightings and agonized sounds that were heard from within. His furniture business inventory was also being mysteriously destroyed at night.
The lady of the house remembers how Mdme. Delphine Lalaurie used to be a respected member of New Orleans society. After the fire in 1834 and the subsequent discovery by firemen of seven emaciated slaves at the attic with obvious traces of abuse and torture, the couple and their four grown-up children had to flee in the middle of the night, or be lynched by the angry townsfolk.
Were all the stories true? Six years later, no human bones were discovered at the backyard, nor actual records or reports thereof, negating further accusations of slave murders, including that of a young girl who allegedly fell from the rooftop trying to escape her lady’s wrath. If Mdme. Lalaurie was the inhuman monster the press accused her of that time, then all of her contemporaries were also guilty, including all plantation owners, for the practice of slavery was fundamentally immoral and depraved. The lady of the house tells herself it is best to keep silent and let one person take all the condemnation. This removes the attention of the press and the restless community away from her social circle and her own guilt.
privileged mindset
and undue exploitation -
cancer cell takes root
Inspired by A House in New Orleans Contest
27 January 2016
Note: The Lady of the House is a fictitious character, but relies heavily on historical background from:
1. Mad Madam Lalaurie: New Orlean’s Famous Murderess Revealed by Victoria Costner Love and Lorelei Shannon
2. Old New Orleans, a History of Vieux Carre, Its Ancient and Historical Buildings by Stanley Clisby Arthur
3. Mdme. Delphine Lalaurie, Wikipedia
Copyright © Kp Nunez | Year Posted 2016
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Kp Nunez Poem
Were I to know your depth’s degree
I’d want to dive quite fearlessly
give all the things required of me
to plunge into our destiny.
Were I to touch the heaven’s gate
I’ll even bear hell’s jealous hate
for being in this tortured state
you’ll see that I’m your destined fate.
Were I to scale the steepest height
of friendship's pleasure and delight
I’d want to share our deep insight
fun and laughter each day and night.
Were I to taste your sweetest kiss
I’d want to stay, that I won’t miss
for too long I did wait for this
the moment our souls meet…a bliss.
Were I to hear your heart’s desire
I'd want to touch, feel the fire
the fiercest heat while wind and choir
rise to the highest notes of lyre.
Were I to hold the strength of yours
absorb the substance of your force
I’d want to leave a charted course
and row with passion’s guiding oars.
Were I to ride the ocean’s waves
before it feeds the tempest’s graves
I’d want the shelter your heart saves
for you my love, it’s I… who craves.
But, were you to ask this of me
be your true love eternally
I still cannot accept, you see
…this is my sad hypocrisy.
So I'll pretend not loving you
I'd rather hurt ourselves in lieu
of people who shared our lives' hue
before my world got splashed by you.
KIM PATRICE NUNEZ
What is Your Hypocrisy Contest - 1st Place
08 April 2015
Copyright © Kp Nunez | Year Posted 2015
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Kp Nunez Poem
You knew you were going to die. 1
And yet you came, thinking no matter how insane,
the man on the seat of power would never want you dead
… it would be too much on his head.
And so you came, and there in the brightness of the day
they took your life away, on the tarmac… in broad daylight. 2
I was too young to fully understand, and yet I cried -
The greatest leader we never had, the greatest leader we needed to have … died.
August 21, 1983 was a day of ignominy.
The nation suffered from shamed infamy;
Too many people, not just one witness,
yet not anyone saw, everyone was witless.
The world mocked our country of too little people.
Seemed all we could do was pray on the steeple,
we were hopeless, hopeless…helpless…
Quo vadis, Filipino?
The tide of justice was slow in turning,
even though on the streets, one felt intense mourning.
Peace loving people were silently seething,
faithful and compliant, yet inwardly…defiant.
Seventeen years seemed still not enough,
the man on the throne just couldn’t give up;
With close-knit advisers, and media sanitizers -
If one contradicts, he sees the gunpoint…with silencers.
What must have you felt the days after you left?
Did you think we were too blind, too mute and deaf?
Took almost three years for us, to finally get our act
I guess we were too set in our ways, too afraid…to react.
What the man in power and his cronies up the tower.
must not have considered… are the new movers and shakers.
There was only so much we could take…
There was only so much we could tolerate…
February 25, 1986 was the day we started to fix 3
the road of our shamed history.
It was the day People Power came to be
the man in power was kicked out from tower
as ordinary citizens , nuns and everyone
faced his armed men aboard the tanks.
People unarmed, just some bottled water,
a few sandwiches and bunches of flowers.
It was the day we looked up the sky,
offered a fervent gratitude to heaven’s door -
and told Ninoy…thank you for believing
“The Filipino is worth dying for”. 4
History Notes:
1. Benigno "Ninoy" Aquino, Jr., then senator and leading opposition leader (to Pres. Ferdinand Marcos, Philippine dictator who was in power 1965-1986) was advised by the First Lady not to come back from 3-year exile in the USA, as there was a plot to assassinate him. As to whose plot, it was not clarified.
2. Manila International Airport, right after he went out of the airplane. Media took photos from the window.
3. There was so much social unrest, and Cardinal Sin, through the radio and other respected media men, finally appealed to all people to go out and stage a massive peaceful protest with people making human barricade against the tanks in EDSA Avenue, Metro Manila's main thoroughfare. No one was killed. Ninoy's wife Cory Aquino who won the election, took the oath of office. The People Power Revolution, the first of its kind, in the Philippines and in the world, was eventually copied by France and other countries.
4. Ninoy Aquino, in an interview a few minutes before he left the plane to his death.
31 July 2015
Copyright © Kp Nunez | Year Posted 2015
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