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DoodleScribbles

Scribblings and scrawls of a hopeless romantic soul

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poems

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. 🌻💛🥺

Hope is an illusion

Hope is an illusion
A lie behind the blinds
It walks you into the wind—
Points you to distant bergs
Where refuge hides

Ask a child from Quneitra
Or the slums of Manila
And both will give you a laugh
For life has taught them what hope is
A vanishing mirage, not an oasis

No food, no water
Not a breath left for a dream
For a deserter trapped in the desert
Does hope even matter?
Does anybody cares?

Tilt those heads slightly
Perhaps, from a different angle, you’ll see
The lives of the lost, last, and least
Trampled down by privilege, indifference, and greed
A scene less click-worthy
Uninteresting for the media frenzy


Day 2 of NaPoWriMo and I am not feeling well. Emotionally, mentally, spiritually – I feel drained. Whenever I mull over something that strikes a chord within me, I experience a relapse of depressive episodes. Now, the obvious reason is the global pandemic COVID-19. And I am not only saddened by the number of deaths it brings but by the extent of hatred and greed it ignites. I need not zoom out because my country itself is thrown in disarray. It hurts. 💔

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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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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

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!

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