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!
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!
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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.
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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
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.”
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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
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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. 😊
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! 😊
I was taking a bath when a streak of light hit my skin. From the gap between my wooden window, it came with the color of fire — the kind of orange you get when you light a lamp in the midst of a dim room. The ones we used to play with during brownouts.
Shadows. Silhouettes.
The clock strikes 5:49 pm and a wave of nostalgia begins.
Was amazed by today’s sunset and I had to write a little something. Also, linking this to this week’s OLN hosted by Grace. Have a great weekend, everyone!
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My Chemical Romance
I sit beside helium, neon, argon, krypton, xenon and radon
the laziest and most boring elements,
they say
Thinking periodically how you came—
and stayed
Perhaps because ours is a chemical romance
like helium that always comes in two
like neon giving colors to my gray days
like argon remaining colorless and true
like krypton giving each other strength
like xenon starting from being strangers
like radon becoming each other’s weakness
This, I think, is why I like noble gases
they were once set aside at first
until they finally found their place
In response to dVerse’s Poetics: Let’s get elemental! hosted by Sarah who challenges us to write some poems inspired by the periodic table elements.
Head over here to join the prompt!
