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DoodleScribbles

Scribblings and scrawls of a hopeless romantic soul

Author

maria

A recipe to start the day

Take a cup of patience
Stir it with respect
Add a dash of wit
And a pinch of praise
No grilling or [pry]ing
Season with the spice of life
Top with love and kindness
And you’re all set—
Serve with the warmth of sunshine.


In response to dVerse’s Quadrille: Poems Stirred, Not Shaken hosted by De who asks us to stir up a poem of exactly 44 words inspired by the word “stir.”Head over here to join the prompt!dverse

A Woman’s Bite

There are no apples left for picking
At least not the ones that brought collective sin
So why do we feel like we’ve ruined Eden?
When we weren’t even named after Eve

Why do they bar our own progress?
Condemn us when we show our strength
Why can’t we be our own winner?
must thank a man for our gain

denounced
impugned
cut to the quick

Did a bite symbolize the fall of man
or was just that of a woman?


In response to dVerse’s Poetics: Apple! hosted by Ha who asks us to write use apple as a thematic or a metaphorical element in our poem.

This poem is dedicated to all women who have faced and are still battling with inequality, sexism and double standards. Like Bjorn, today’s prompt reminded me of the Forbidden Fruit. And it was thanks to Carol’s End of the Garden for inciting the idea of this piece. Let’s celebrate Women’s Month!

Head over here to join the prompt!

dverse

SUKDANAN [A Visayan spoken word poem]

Subo pamalandongon nga ang pagtan-aw sa mga kabayhanan karon sama sa usa ka value meal. Usa ka mabaw ng sukdanan nga giuyonan sa katilingban. Nila, niya, nimo.
Pero dili ako.

Wala koy mga legs ug thighs nga magpanghinam ka og paak, aduna koy duha ka bagtak nga gipagahi na sa panahon. Mga tuhod nga dili na daling mangurog. Mga tiil nga nanggamot– usa ka timailhan nga dili ko daling mamiya. Pero andam sad mudagan palayo sa mga way pulos.

Wala koy breast nga imong gipangita kay, sa tinood lang, ang akong atubangan mura ra sad og nagtalikod. Ug kanang white meat? Ayaw nalang jud. Kay sa pila ka adlaw nga pagbabad sa ilawom sa kainit sa adlaw, mapa-bukid man o dagat, dugay ra kong nasunog. Sorry na, dili sad ko ka-afford ug gluta. Apan aduna koy dakong kasingkasing. Andam maghigugma sa isigkatawo. Kanila, kaniya, kanimo. Puno sa kalipay ug kasakit sa mga kaagi pero nagpabiling naay lugar para sa mga bag-ong higayon, sa mga bag-ong hagikhik.

Ug bisan paborito ni nako kaayo, wala sad koy wings nga ikadalit. Adunay koy mga braso nga bisan dili kaayo kusgan pwede ra masaligan. Aduna koy mga kamot nga andam mugunit, musuporta, mutabang taliwala sa kahayahay ug kalisod. Mga kamot nga niagi nag samad ug paso gikan sa mga sayop. Mga kamot nga gikubal na sa kakugi sa pagsuwat, sa pagtrabaho.

Maong ayaw ko isama sa usa ka value meal. Dili ko chicken. Ug dili sad ko chicks. Kay ang bili sa usa ka babaye dili ra taman sa makita sa mga mata.

Ang kada usa ka babaye adunay bili ug walay sukdanang gikinahanglan.


As we march into a new month, we are reminded of a very important celebration. That is, Women’s Month. It is a time for commemorating the history of women’s impact to the world, raising awareness of issues women are facing worldwide, and uplifting women’s dignity. And though this should not only be a month-long celebration but a daily one, we are given a special chance honor the women of the past, present and future every March.

I wrote this Visayan spoken word poem for last year’s International Women’s Day. I did not publish it on this blog because I was planning to have it translated to English. But language really does have magic. No matter how grammatically correct we interpret it with another tongue, the feeling and conviction won’t be the same. In the end, I gave up. I just hope we have a way of understanding each other beyond words…

Here’s to all beautiful women out there. Stand tall!

Before the fall folds

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your smile turns summer into a feeling
and my world tilts towards you, babe

i am a teen once again—
blushing pink
‘neath love’s golden rays

and i know seasons are passing
and only fools rush in
but before the fall folds. . .

allow me to relish your summer smile
walk with me along windswept forest
talk about fate, destiny and magic

let me be the flower,
and you be the sun.


In response to dVerse’s Poetics: Impermanence hosted by Merril who asks us to write a poem that speak about impermanence.

Head over here to join the prompt!

dverse

The Unravelling

she peels herself away
in words and verses—
layer after layer
of emotions, thoughts
imperfections laid out
for your lips to read,
ears to hear,
eyes to see
hands to touch—
peelings, nothing more
unravelling
in pinpricks of light
the stories she long hides

MS


In response to dVerse’s Quadrille: Peelings, Nothing More… hosted by Mish who challenges us to write a poem in 44 words inspired by the word “peel.”

Head over here to join the prompt!

dverse

Writer’s Quote Wednesday – THUG LIFE

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“Sometimes you can do everything right and things will still go wrong. The key is to never stop doing right.”

Angie Thomas, The Hate U Give

The Hate U Give Little Infants Fucks Everyone.

Angie Thomas’ novel revolves around this redefined meaning of THUG LIFE by Tupac Shakur, popularly known as 2Pac.

It follows 16-year-old Starr Carter whose uneasy balance between her poor neighborhood and her fancy suburban school is shattered when she witnesses the shooting of her best friend at the hands of a police officer. His name is Khalil, but the world calls him a thug. Everyone wants to know what went down that night. But Starr’s decision to stay silent or to speak comes with a risk for her people and her life.

Some people snicker at the thought of reading books under the young adult genre. They have this stereotyped belief that YA novels are shallow, sappy and superficial. They rarely see it as an avenue for discussing socio-political issues. But Angie Thomas proves these people wrong.

Without mincing her words, she delves into the most delicate and controversial subjects in America and the world today: racism, oppression, privilege and broken justice system. The book is thought-provoking without being preachy. It gave me different perspectives to look into. It made me introspect on what I have done and what I would do when faced with these issues. Other than posting about the hashtags and signing every petition there is, do I have it in me to act against racism, oppression or injustice?

In the end, this novel goes to warn the society that what it gives (hate/violence/injustice) to little infants (the poor/minority/less fortunate) will always come to haunt them. The THUG LIFE cycle continues…

Secrets: A Cinquain

secrets

unknown, unseen

whispers and silhouettes

a moonlit night undressed by truth

no lies


In response to dVerse’s Poetics: Shhhh! Do you want to know a secret? hosted by Merill who challenges us to write a poem (in any form) about secrets.

It’s been a while since I wrote a poem in specific form. This piece is an attempt at Cinquain.

A cinquain is a five-line poem that was invented by Adelaide Crapsey. The traditional cinquain is based on a syllable count. It has five lines consisting 22 syllables in the following pattern:

line 1 – 2 syllables
line 2 – 4 syllables
line 3 – 6 syllables
line 4 – 8 syllables
line 5 – 2 syllables

Head over here to join the prompt!

Monday Musings: A matter of choice

Today, I will not romanticize love.

Ours isn’t spellbinding or a gift from the gods and goddesses. Nor does it have to do with an arrow piercing two hearts together at the perfect time and place. It’s far from orphic to begin with and the universe isn’t always on our side.

Ours is bitter and sweet. Love and hate colliding— an endless cycle of cuddles and fights. It is coming back after hundreds of walk outs. And we never learn. We keep messing things up only to patch them in the end. With music, long walks on a moonlit night, laughter.

Ours is a downright matter of choice. Holding on to what keep us together rather than those that tear us apart.


Sharing another old IG post for Monday Musings.

I’m not an expert in all matters of the heart but if there is one thing I have been writing about and has come to prove firsthand, it’s about love being a choice. It is seeing the beauty and the ugly in a person — and choosing to embrace them both. 😊

Monday Musings: Do it scared

It’s killing me softly, love is. But I wouldn’t mind this kind of death.

Icarus didn’t aim to burn but he knew it was coming. He felt the wax scorching his back and saw the feathers falling off his wings. He could have stopped but there is so much we do not know about flying.

And, perhaps, this is how I refuse to be. To be like the trolls and sprites who must have watched Icarus in shame. Knowing that they never tried. Clueless of how great it must have felt. Forever wondering why Icarus chose such kind of death.


Two years ago, I wrote this with a promise to myself to do things scared.

I have always been a hermit, preferring the comfort of solitude and quiet. Always been a hopeless romantic, too good with words yet too afraid to apply it.

But here I am, fast forward to 2020, appreciating the beauty of connection. With nature and people. Wide-eyed, silly grin plastered on my face and a whole lot treasured moments to reminisce.

I’m still a hermit and connecting can at times be a struggle. Still a romantic yet now a hopeful one. Definitely still scared, but you know what?

Like Nike, let’s just do it.
Like BDO, let’s just find away.

Fighting! 😊

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