Here comes rain pouring
Along with new year’s blessings
A grateful soul smiles.
your life is your life
don’t let it be clubbed into dank submission.
be on the watch.
there are ways out.
there is light somewhere.
it may not be much light but
it beats the darkness.
be on the watch.
the gods will offer you chances.
know them.
take them.
you can’t beat death but
you can beat death in life, sometimes.
and the more often you learn to do it,
the more light there will be.
your life is your life.
know it while you have it.
you are marvelous
the gods wait to delight
in you.
Had Charles Bukowski lived longer, he would be celebrating his 100th birthday today. This gem of a piece of is one of his simplest yet most powerful. In these trying times, it reminds us to push forward despite life’s inevitable hardships. 💛
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.
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!
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!
She craved to write something beautiful
Like how the night sky stretched endlessly
A dark veil that hung overhead—
Unmoving and still
Like how the stars that flickered up above
Reminded her of home, of dreams, and of unicorns
That each glimmer was a tinge of hope—
A touch of a whimsical dream
Like how the moon, full in its glory,
Brought light to her darkest corners
Reminding that she is never alone—
That it is ready to listen
But as her eyes closed in the cradle of the crisp air
She found beauty in a pair of eyes
So dark that the night sky cowered
Its iridescence made the flickering stars shy away
That the moon, even in its full glory,
Winced to the radiant glow of those eyes
She craved to write something beautiful
Something about the night, the moon, and the stars
But, instead, she found herself writing
About a pair of dark eyes.
© 2016 Maria. All Rights Reserved.
Artwork by Paul Pond
Today’s Filipino word prompt is “paraluman” which refers to “a muse that inspires artistically”.
P.S. This was an unpublished poem I wrote last May. I have been out of the blogosphere for three days now. Work happens. 😦 My apologies for the posts that I have missed and comments that I have not answered to. I will catch up on reading your posts the soonest!
Hugs and kisses! -Maria.
Come on!
Write a poem or a fiction
Snap a photo under the sun
A six-word tale or a long post, perhaps?
Let’s all get word-high this July!
Want to join the fun? Find the prompt words HERE! Don’t forget to pingback & use the tag WordHighJuly. Mazel tov! 😉
Ghosts no longer live
In haunted houses
And peepal trees
No, they no longer reside
In abandoned buildings
And eerie streets
Ghosts now live within me
In a memory
A nightmare in my sleep
And how dire it is
To be haunted at night
By someone
Who’s still alive
In response to Writing 101: Poetry
Day 3: Sleep
For Day 3, Rohit Pandey (aka R ‘I’ P) offers us a prompt on a theme we all care about: Sleep.
Sleep: a world where our thoughts rule.
A place where reality is overshadowed by dreams. A time when we transport our soul from the real world to the virtual. For some, the hours we spend asleep, alone and in peace, are the best of the entire day; for others, whether haunted by nightmares or unable to fall asleep in the first place, not so much.
It’s time to think deeply about sleep. Dive into the pool of night and let whatever it is you find there take poetic form. (I hope this prompt doesn’t make an insomniac out of you!)
I stared at the girl in a little black dress
She stood looking youthful and classy
I recognized her and her bright auburn hair
Those red-tinted lips speaks of fierce
Her eyes fixed on mine and then I realized
She was not a stranger, she was me
From rags to riches, grief to bliss
She made through it all, she should be happy
But her smile is a shroud
To the depths of her misery
To the pits of agony,
A playful veil
For she may have gained the rest of the world
But in meaning and purpose, she failed.
In response to Writing 101: Poetry
Day 2: Reflections
Prompt 2 is a courtesy of Melinda Kucsera.
On water, in puddles, in glass, in mirrors – reflections can clarify, blur reality, or fracture it altogether. They can serve up surreal images or a perspective that’s unexpected. Whether it’s street light-reflected raindrops or the sky distorted in a half-melted patch of ice, reflections are nature’s funhouse mirrors.
Reflections are not limited to non-living objects. Our bodies reflect our internal health and our clothes reflect our lifestyle. We also reflect internally upon our world, our physical state, or on ideas bouncing around inside our skulls.
Clear or distorted, in your poem today tell us something about the reflections you see — in the world or in yourself.
When I think of magic, I think of your tricks
And the deck of cards in your pocket
How you came to me and asked for my name
Showing me an old trick, you were classic
“Pick a card, any card, any card at all”
That’s what you said and I did as told
Little did I know, I’ll be your Queen of Hearts
When I picked the Ace of Diamond
But like all tricks, yours was a ploy
A joke. A prank. A caper
For I never saw what was under your sleeves
Until you broke me to pieces
52 cards, 52 weeks—
That’s a year if you were counting
When you turned that diamond into a ring
You were Jack of all trades, I should have seen.
In response to Writing 101: Poetry
Day 1: Magic
The first prompt of the course is out, courtesy of @laduchessederat. It invites you to write a poem involving magic, whatever your take on the magical might be.
I wanted to write something light and jolly but, yeah, madness happens. I enjoyed this bitter piece though. 😉
DoodleScribbles 