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DoodleScribbles

Scribblings and scrawls of a hopeless romantic soul

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NaPoWriMo

Silent Spring: A Triolet

It was a spring without voices, devoid of man and his obsessions
Warm light bathed, for once, the stricken world that was silenced
For what worth were our gold and our Earthly possessions?
It was a spring without voices, devoid of man and his obsessions
Love is what carries weight, not money or possessions
Nor hatred and greed can answer mother nature’s siren
It was a spring without voices devoid, of man and his obsessions
Warm light bathed, for once, the stricken world that was silenced

© doodlescribbles


Sharing this piece that I’ve written for #WorldofWords prompt that I am doing with Jade M Wong and A Reading Writer on Instagram (Jade’s IG, Rose’s IG and my IG). This one is inspired by the current global pandemic and Rachel Carson’s Silent Spring, a nonfiction that became one of the most-influential writings in the modern environmental movement. The book documents the adverse environmental effects caused by the indiscriminate and eloquently questions humanity’s faith in technological progress.

Triolet is a short poem of eight lines with only two rhymes used throughout. The requirements of this fixed form are straightforward: the first line is repeated in the fourth and seventh lines; the second line is repeated in the final line; and only the first two end-words are used to complete the tight rhyme scheme. Thus, the poet writes only five original lines, giving the triolet a deceptively simple appearance: ABaAabAB, where capital letters indicate repeated lines.

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Vignette: Into the land of the unknown

and then she melted
on the bed, her hands circling
the pillow while her mind drifts
away into the land of unicorns
and magic wands
and cotton dreams

pixies dance to an unknown
melody, strange yet familiar
soft duh-dums getting louder
at every second — alas!
it was the steady sound
of her heart all along


Day 3 of NaPoWriMo. I miss feeling dreamy like this. It’s been a while. 🌻💛🥺

At the end of the long road

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Let it be where winds may sweep
Through forest trees soft and deep
The murmur of the giggling brook
Calm every head that shook
And the thriving eastern wood-pewee
Bring broken hearts with glee

Let it be where a bluebird freely flies
Verdant meadows lie before our eyes
Harvest fields reaped and trod
To farmers a gift from God
And falling raindrops sing
For a family hopeful for spring

Let it be where stars may shine
O’er creatures living, peaceful and fine
Where the crescent moon watches over
Longing hearts that look yonder
And the rain once again
Heal the world in pain

Let it be where men breathe with love
And intent is as pure as a dove
Into each life rain must fall
But the sun still shines upon all
At the end of the long road is peace
Let it be where hatred and greed cease


Wordsmiths and poets make a sound, it’s National Poetry Writing Month everyone! Kicking off Day 1 with rhymes instead of today’s optional prompt. What are your  April plans? 🙂

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Laro tayo ng lokohan

Laro tayo ng lokohan
Bilang inaraw-araw mo na rin lang
Ang magpaloko sa ex mong makupal
Siguro naman ngayon,
Alam mo nang laruin ‘to

Pag sinabi kong kasalanan nila—
Ng mga NPA at komunista
At mga adik na kasing-liit ng daga
Maniwala ka

Wag kang magtiwala sa mga balita
Sa ingay ng mga aktibista
Na pilit ginigising
Ang iyong kamalayan
Manalig ka

Manatili kang nanampalataya
Sa sarili mong diyos na mapang-mura
Syang nakapanig na sa masa
At panig pa sa Tsina—
Siya lang ang tama

Silang mga butil ang ipinunla
Na ngayo’y umaani ng bala
Ay hindi marunong sumunod sa batas
At nagtatago lamang sa anino ng dahas

Silang mga isang kahig at isang tuka
Na ngayo’y sa kalsada nakabulagta
Ay hindi na dapat paramihin
Nang matigil na ang mga krimen

Laro tayo ng lokohan
Bilang inaraw-araw mo na rin lang
Ang magpaloko sa ex mong makupal
Siguro naman ngayon,
Alam mo nang laruin ‘to

Babalik-balikan ko
Ang mga linya
At mga pangako
Uulit-ulitin ko
Ang mga bula
Nang magtunog totoo

At kagaya ng laro niyo ng ex mo,
Kung sino man ang maloko dito ay talo.


Happy #NationalPoetryWritingMonth. Don’t be fooled, Pilipinas!

Allegory

Ours was an allegory of indecision—
Moving one step forward,
Taking two steps back
And love was the tide tickling the sands
Only to retreat
Back to the ocean.


Written for NaPoWriMo and A to Z challenge. Happy National Poetry Month, everyone!

Doodles and Scribbles at 2

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YAY! It has been two awesome years for Doodles and Scribbles and I, and the counting goes on.

Through the Years

Doodles and Scribbles has grown such a warm blogging community and I have grown as blogger myself. I remember a certain someone once told me,

“…you only want attention; to bask in praises from strange faces, unknown to you and you to them, never knowing what lies deep within.”

I felt bad for these harsh words and disappointed at this someone, who never had a blogging community in the first place, saying such things. He called it shallow and pretentious, which is not.

I am grateful for the people of passion that I have met through this blog. Their worth are far beyond the praises that I have received and in contrast to what that rude someone said, these bloggers–who I consider friends–have read and seen right through me. Vise versa. Continue reading “Doodles and Scribbles at 2”

Taguan

 

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http://www.tnmaa.net

Tagu-taguan maliwanag ang buwan
Giggles, titters, and silly laughs
Wala sa likod, wala sa harap

Little kids restless and eager to play
‘Pag ka bilang kong tatlo nakatago na kayo
,
Run swiftly as the wind; find a place to hide
1…
Climb the mango tree
2…
Crawl behind the shrubs
3!
Hearts beat faster
Breaths held like forever
Close your eyes
And wish the seeker won’t find


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Day 18: Today, I’d like to challenge you to write a poem that incorporates “the sound of home.” Think back to your childhood, and the figures of speech and particular ways of talking that the people around you used, and which you may not hear anymore. Coax your ear and your voice backwards, and write a poem that speaks the language of home, and not the language of adulthood, office, or work. Happy writing!

Taguan is the Filipino version of the game, Hide-and-Seek. One player is randomly chosen as the it while the other players then hide. The it goes to search for them. The game ends when all of the players are found. The player who is first found will be the new it (the searcher) in the next round.

Tubī Daor

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Photo Credit: SANGUESUORELAGRIMAS

 

What do we say to death?
Tubī daor. 

What do we say to doubt?
Tubī daor. 

What do we say to hate?
Tubī daor. 

The night is dark and full of terrors
In High Valyrian, it is ‘Bantis zōbrie issa se ossȳngnoti lēdys’
Dark—for when you’re clouded with hatred and rage,
The shimmering stars start to fade
Full of terrors—for when you play this game of life,
You either succeed or fail
Daoruni gīmī—ērinis iā morghūlis
(You know nothing— you win or you die)

But what do we say to death?
Not today

What do we say to doubt?
Not today

What do we say to hate?
Not today


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Day 17: Today, I challenge you to find, either on your shelves or online, a specialized dictionary. This could be, for example, a dictionary of nautical terms, or woodworking terms, or geology terms. Anything, really, so long as it’s not a standard dictionary! Now write a poem that incorporates at least ten words from your specialized source. Happy writing!

Still working on my day 17 on NaPoWriMo’s day 20. >_<
Arghh! Busy days!! Writer’s block and procrastination aren’t helping either. *TEARS*
So here’s a little something inspired by GoT’s High Valyrian language and a suicide I’ve read in the paper this morning.

My Love: A letter to D

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Digital Art by Melinda (WhiteRaven90)

Dearest D,

I yearn for you like the irises yearn for summer heat and warmth. I want to kiss your hands and hold them as we climb atop the Pyramids of Giza or sit beneath the mango tree watching kites fly in the deep blue skies. D, I am like a beggar waiting in an alley with an empty can, pleading for your love. Every memory of you haunts me like a ghost. Like how the world stopped as you walked the hallway in little black dress—and how I wished to be the silk that night. How your sweet giggles played a melody to my ears as you watched the comical clown on the street. How the light in your eyes shined brightly as you talked about Louvre and travelling back in time, of Area 51 and aliens, of John Keats and Little Red Riding Hood.

God, how I wished for those moments to be frozen in time.

I would brave the earthquakes and fight the wolves just to see you walk the aisle of Basilica Minore del Santo Nino with me— hand in hand. I want a brighter word than bright and a fairer word than fair that would suffice to describe how I see you in my eyes. And if one day you are drowning in doubt, bear in mind that my love for you is like a phoenix. My love for you is eternal; my love for you never dies.

Forever yours, M.

Poetry Form: Prose


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Day 16: Today, I challenge you to fill out, in no more than five minutes, the following “Almanac Questionnaire,” which solicits concrete details about a specific place (real or imagined). Then write a poem incorporating or based on one or more of your answers. Happy writing!

I enjoyed this prompt so much that I ended up using all my answers in the poem. ❤

Weather: Summer heat
Flora: Iris
Architecture: Louvre
Customs: Kiss in the hand
Mammals/reptiles/fish: wolves
Childhood dream: To climb atop the Pyramids of Giza
Found on the Street: beggar
Export: silk
Graffiti: clown
Lover: D
Conspiracy: aliens in Area 51
Dress: Little black
Hometown memory: flying kites
Notable person: John Keats
Outside your window, you find: Mango tree
Today’s news headline: Earthquake
Scrap from a letter: I want a brighter word than bright, a fairer word than fair.
Animal from a myth: Phoenix
Story read to children at night: Little Red Riding Hood
You walk three minutes down an alley and you find: Empty can
You walk to the border and hear: Giggles
What you fear: Ghost
Picture on your city’s postcard: Basilica Minore del Santo Nino

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