Hounding his false dreams
Cared for grades than the lessons
Dispersed knowledge gained.
I’ve had many thoughts in this poem, but I cannot fathom and weave them into words. Each line is extremely powerful.
This poem gave me chills.
society faults severely
battle lines being drawn
poor’s dire, desperate living
dark nightmare with no dawn
yachts, condominiums, carriages
rich thriving, enjoying more
peasants, workers, destitute
thrown out of city doors
their voices drown in thunder
of sewage Niagara Falls
head down work in shame
infinitely oppressed raise the call
inflation equates subjugation
poverty chained castigation
eternally trapped inside ghettos
while affluent enjoying gelatos
inequality to end some day
natural continuum calling noon
daggers sharpened to extreme
killing commencing soon
ending human crime
revolution it will be called
opulence brought to justice
cleansing without consequence
no one spared no armistice
“Darkness thus is not all bad;
Great life lessons it teaches us …”
The truth has been spoken!
Who can truly darkness like?
When with evil darkness comes;
When full control darkness takes,
Many good things also start to go wrong;
Whereas darkness has its positive side;
Not just having a negative side;
Many good things from darkness come;
Much good also darkness does;
Darkness thus is not all bad;
Great life lessons it teaches us;
All dark moments that we have,
Great good also can they bring;
Look then therein for the good;
Spend less time on that dark side.
This poem is indeed humanistic. Every verse is breathtaking; the narration is simple, but the author weaved the words effectively. This is a masterpiece!
I’ve been sitting here awhile.
My cup is empty.
No matter, I like watching human traffic.
Foreign students chatter by.
Her! She passes every day;
fresh long hair, a breezy skirt, so beautiful;
the picture of my love when I promised her the universe.
Now there’s a young man with determination in his stride;
his tie flapping across his chest; his briefcase full of ambition;
I remember those days, before this.
A fretful girl struggles with her double pram. Are my children all grown up now?
As the world turns a dog sniffs my shoe.
Clink. Silver hits my cup. I salute you.
©Anna Ghislena 2013
This was another 100 Word Challenge for Grown Ups . To take part head for this link : http://jfb57.wordpress.com/2013/09/30/100-word-challenge-for-grown-ups-week107/
Loss of hidden pride
Inspires the damsel to shine
Flips hair, loves again
Inspired by RonovanWrites Weekly Haiku Challenge. Photo from Domestic Church.
Gazing at night skies
Thinking of old memories
Wounds turn fresh again
Photo credits to Wikipedia. A response to RonovanWrites Weekly Haiku Challenge.
My love ends neglect
Until my lungs exhausts, dries
Hope shall ever last
A response to RonovanWrites Weekly Haiku Challenge: ‘Love and Last’
A nicely done poem with a touch of the author’s political perspective.
Sense of belonging, longing and pride
One country in disarray, another one decides
Wars are fought, blood is spilled
Blind patriotism, numerous killed
Oath of allegiance, to Queen and the shire
Criticism treason, consequences dire
All but for the country of your birth?
Wake up humans, you belong to Earth
Be pleased with thy jeans.
Don’t threaten tattered wallets.
Choose needs over wants.
A response to RonovanWrites Weekly Haiku Challenge.
If you are looking for great adventures,
Search beyond the boundaries and the comforts of the city
Carry within you the struggles of the marginalized and the poor
And in a united goal , watch with them a lengthy starry night.
I knew you had to always look through the window
Because the chills of dawn caused your bladder’s impending explosion.
Remember, endurance’s a prerequisite to long journeys along the road
But in a few hours more,the embrace of warm sunshine will be above you.
The sandy, sizzling environment of Mabalacat, Pampanga
Surrounded by long fences and monstrous signs of corporate entities
Wanting to build golf fields and the planned Clark Green City,
The starry night is, but in loneliness, will soon dash away.
Two mountains standing apart, connected with hanging bridges
Spark great fear of falling onto the hard rocks brought by lahar
But to reach the community one must brave the height
Because the mission’s fulfillment gives a warm sunshine.
The Aeta children welcomed the strangers with a facial beam
Without the thought that they might be oppressors
Or the right hand men of the capitalists or of the landlords
And in their beautiful eyes a starry night might glow.
Happily they sang the modern songs they hardly understood
Singing Frozen’s ‘Let It Go’ in a repeating stereo tone
Or idolizing Lyca Gairanod and all other ‘The Voice Kids’ renditions
Their melody touches like warm sunshine beneath the ears.
Most of them lined up inside the small, hollow-blocked room
Waiting for the doctor’s stethoscope to be placed above their chests
The babies cried, but the schoolers observed in an open-mouthed wonder
And just like the blinks of the starry night, they wished to hear their hearts too!
The adults spoke about their stories and histories
As they offered root crops and nutritious meals to the hungry
As they spared their bedrooms and pillows to the sleepy strangers
I knew the warm sunshine blessed their souls with hospitality and prudence.
Our Aeta brothers and sisters suffered from oppression
Through false representations of those empowered by the ‘seats’.
They have always wished for self-determination,
But instead experienced some unwanted alienation.
In development they were not against,
But only hoped for the promised sustainability
Where the neoliberal agenda shall not prevail
Over the indigenous people’s interest and of the masses.
During starry nights I shall remember the Aeta children of Marcos Village
And as stars glitter I shall always see the hope in their shy smiles
Their mountainous settlement shall remain their paradise
So that their warm sunshine won’t turn in a cold instant.
This poem was published at Sulo’s March 2015 Issue. “Starry Night; Warm Sunshine” is the metaphor used to describe the current lives and struggles of the indigenous peoples in the Philippines.
Sulo is the official newsletter of KATRIBU National.
The validity of the ‘facts’ in this poem is absolutely stunning! This poem, moreover, shattered my heart into pieces!
With all my heart
I loved you;
Yet, this same heart of mine
Today aches with pain
That’s been caused by you;
A tender heart you’ve so broken,
A whole life you’ve shattered.
And now I have a tender broken heart.
How comes it, my love?
Why would the one I adore the most
In all the whole wide world
Be the one
That gives me
The greatest pain
In the whole wide world?
Sharp beacon of light
Fielding great moments through clouds
Battling against height
A response to Ronovan Writes Weekly Haiku Challenge
Photo credits to http://www.alaska-in-pictures.com/
In desire for war
Guts and strength overthrow fear
Fame is well achieved
A response to RonovanWrites Weekly Haiku Challenge. Photo Courtesy of wikipedia.org
(I had to copy this poem from the book I owned since my first year in high school. This piece was also the one we had performed in our high school Speech Choir Competition, in which we bagged the championship title.
I found the message also inspiring, especially to the youths like me, and because of that, I rewrote this poem at the back of my notebook, so that, whenever I feel down or lost, I know what is/are my passion(s) and my struggles in order to achieve my dreams.)
(Max Ehrmann, 1952)
Go placidly amid the noise and haste,
and remember what peace there may be in silence.
As far as possible without surrender
be on good terms with all persons.
Speak your truth quietly and clearly;
and listen to others,
even the dull and the ignorant;
they too have their story.
Avoid loud and aggressive persons,
they are vexations to the spirit.
If you compare yourself with others,
you may become vain and bitter;
for always there will be greater and lesser persons than yourself.
Enjoy your achievements as well as your plans.
Keep interested in your own career, however humble;
it is a real possession in the changing fortunes of time.
Exercise caution in your business affairs;
for the world is full of trickery.
But let this not blind you to what virtue there is;
many persons strive for high ideals;
and everywhere life is full of heroism.
Especially, do not feign affection.
Neither be cynical about love;
for in the face of all aridity and disenchantment
it is as perennial as the grass.
Take kindly the counsel of the years,
gracefully surrendering the things of youth.
Nurture strength of spirit to shield you in sudden misfortune.
But do not distress yourself with dark imaginings.
Many fears are born of fatigue and loneliness.
Beyond a wholesome discipline,
be gentle with yourself.
You are a child of the universe,
no less than the trees and the stars;
you have a right to be here.
And whether or not it is clear to you,
no doubt the universe is unfolding as it should.
Therefore be at peace with God,
whatever you conceive Him to be,
and whatever your labors and aspirations,
in the noisy confusion of life keep peace with your soul.
With all its sham, drudgery, and broken dreams,
it is still a beautiful world.
Strive to be happy.
This is what our Political Science 160 (Political Sociology) professor is talking about. Sadly, there is no existing theory yet that will vividly explain how social media can affect collective actions (or activism).
When activism is reduced
to complaining via social media,
change slips out of reach.
Love and the Universe
Orbits decree the farthest distance
And light years dictate the lowest chance
‘Cause I am Mercury and he is Mars
Revolving around a certain sun.
The stars die as the universe expands
Uncertainties conquer the realm
With Orion losing the last arrow in his arms
And notes of requiem, catching the breath of life.
Polar ends rotate and interchange
As love cripples out in mortal vain
Drying the tears of the ailing night sky
When the new dawn wishes to arise.
I made this poem earlier during our Political Science 150 class, while I was struck with boredom. The piece tells the story of unrequited love and of moving-on, both of which I had tried to relate with the natural events in the Universe and even in our planet. Moreover, I am writing this interpretation because this is one of the skills I had learned in Speech 11, one of the General Education (GE) subjects that I have been taking for this semester.
The first stanza simply states that the author and the one he loves are different, in terms of talent, socio-economic status, likes, and the others. The third verse subliminally suggests that the author and his beloved are both biologically male, as Mercury and Mars are both Roman gods which are masculine in nature. But the fourth verse says that despite their obvious differences, they share the same goals and dreams in life, which is figuratively represented by the sun.
The second stanza is much more emotional than the previous one. The first line,the stars die as the universe expands, means that chances to go nearer to the one you really love seemed to be so distant whenever opportunities keep on knocking on your doors. This could also be interpreted as an abrupt enlargement in your beloved’s circle of friends, which could increase the probability that he may not notice you.
The first line, moreover, is also a statement of failure. Thus, in verse 2, it is normal for the author to feel the plagues of uncertainties as he has his heart broken. This emotional challenge is even more emphasized in the third line, with Orion losing the last arrow in his arms, which symbolizes despair and depression. The last line of the second stanza looks like an oxymoron, with notes of requiem symbolizing severe distress and breath of life symbolizing hope. When both of these concepts are connected with the word awaiting, the author may have wanted to say that the encouragement and help of loved ones could mend at least the worsening pain of the heart-broken individual.
The first and the second verses of the last stanza mean that whenever we repeatedly fall in and fall out of love and get hurt, we also tend to change our perspectives concerning love. Moreover,the third and the last lines of the same stanza are interpreted as the moving-on stage and the return of true happiness.
How about you? How do you interpret this short poem of mine?
Background photo from http://virtualphotographystudio.com/
The room deviates from the customary
For silence’s a requisite to survival
But neither of us shall deny
The consequence of a dying love
The room throws us back again
To the moment where we began our affair
Lingering, clinging to each other’s arms
Prevailing sleep for once in a while
The room’s trapped in indiscernible vacuum
Petrifying strong structures to be voided
Shattering, drowning hearts loudly heard
Playing the music of unsung hymns and melodies
The room leads to yet another room
Where two creatures fated to spend honeymoon
But such has borne great witness too
Of love’s gloomy dusk to commence soon
Roses will be plain rubbish
If once blue skies kept turning grey
Doves can’t anymore fly northwest
Leaves won’t transpire in zest
Each moment that passes
Every glimpse you create
All actions you make
Desert me, breathless
No creature shall complain
When I gasp in pure despair
How shall I love thee
If you already took my breath away?
In response to The Daily Post’s writing prompt: “Image Search.”
Longing for your arrival
Waiting for a chance.
But no departures
Shall shatter our love.
The piles of rocks
From a speedy avalanche
I found myself
With heart racing
In terror, I screamed
But my voice seems
To only bouncing back
No one heard me
I only thought of
Letting the night pass by
The howling wolves
Terribly scared me
I thought of you
While jailed in ice
The next day
I don’t know why
But I woke up
In a hospital bed
And I saw you
Touching my forehead
“I’m here now. Don’t worry.”
For a boy who lives in the tropics
Though the surrounding’s torrid
And wet oftentimes
He waits for those falling leaves
To mark his season of writing
He watches the trees
That are opposite the window
But an autumn is so far away
Nor found in nearby states
So he keeps his wishes
Inside his heart, that someday
He could travel the planet
Or go to temperate zones
Like that of North America
And see how wonderful
As things keep dropping
One by one
But the reality is that
An autumn is so far away
He kept on reading about it
In books, in encyclopedias
And even defined it with
A handful of dictionaries
But a writer indeed knows
How to imagine scenarios
So he felt contented by waiting
For the rain to cry once again
Then he’ll see the green leaves
Dancing with the wind
Losing balance, falling
Swimming with the basin
The boy is now happy
Holding his pen up high
And begins scribbling.
What a lovely poem. I can’t resist rereading this.
Do you see the mighty moon
illuminate a sea of stars?
Those diamonds sparkle just for you.
Do you feel the summer sun
grace your skin with its crystalline glow?
That warmth it oozes just for you.
Do you smell the radiant roses
gift their sweetness to the breeze?
Those flowers blossom just for you.
Do you hear the drip, drip, drop –
the gentle hum of a rainy day?
That music whispers just for you.
And all those favours; all that charm;
I would sacrifice it all,
just for you.
This is the kind of problem that our society has today. Relationship status does matter to most of us, but undermining the role of each in creating a good future for the humanity.
In a Relationship
In a civil union
In a domestic partnership
in an open relationship
Since When did my relationship status matter to you. Since when did my relationship status trump who I was as a person. Since when did my relationship status determine my views on the world. Why does my relationship status worry you? Does it cause you any kind of harm? Does it make you uncomfortable? Does it not allow you to function in your everyday activities? No! My relationship status doesn’t make me any more or less of a person. It does not make me any less of a great friend because I’m single. It does not make me any less fun to have as a niece because I am single. Family dinners with everyone and their husbands and significant others do not make me uncomfortable until you…
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When our high school teacher in English asked us to read this, I found it quite uninteresting. But now, I realized that this is one of the most powerful and vivid poetry that I ever had read, and the Thomas’s exquisite use of metaphors gave description to the poetic yet realistic narrative. 🙂
Do not go gentle into that good night,
Old age should burn and rave at close of day;
Rage, rage against the dying of the light.
Though wise men at their end know dark is right,
Because their words had forked no lightning they
Do not go gentle into that good night.
Good men, the last wave by, crying how bright
Their frail deeds might have danced in a green bay,
Rage, rage against the dying of the light.
Wild men who caught and sang the sun in flight,
And learn, too late, they grieve it on its way,
Do not go gentle into that good night.
Grave men, near death, who see with blinding sight
Blind eyes could blaze like meteors and be gay,
Rage, rage against the dying of the light.
And you, my father, there on the sad height,
Curse, bless, me now with your fierce tears…
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One of the best poetry I had read throughout the WordPress reader today.
The moon will shine like the sun,
and the sunlight will be seven times brighter,
like the light of seven full days,
when the LORD binds up the bruises of his people
and heals the wounds he inflicted.
~ Isaiah 30:26
Intense pain of a haunting past
Anguish consumes the heart
Bleeding under God’s crushing hand
Torturous to mind and soul
Struggling simply to exist
Lord, You cut the heart deeper each time
Endless lies once festering pour out freely
Creating wounds that reveal your truth
This affliction is so harsh, so devastating
Why does it have to be so hard?
You slice and rip the flesh apart
Bringing brokenness once again
To embrace Your truth means letting go
Releasing deceptions harbored in the dark
Lovingly this pain flows forth
Leaving room for a God filled heart
Credits to http://blog.timesunion.com/ for the original photo!
Poetry by S.J. Takeshi
The fact is that I spend 50% of my school hours reading books or studying in the library. This is quite saddening, but I hope they can find a way to incorporate technology for modernization of existing libraries.
A knock at the door!
That’s quite a surprise!
Visitors are often quite few and far between!
I open the door, quite cautiously
Stranger looking for the library!
Well, that’s quite quaint I must admit!
A library was a place I often used to frequent!
From when I was eight till about eighteen!
My favourite place apart from being at home
Would be to be lost in the Library!
But times have changed and so have we!
And poor Library is being replaced so rapidly
With iPads and iPhones and iBooks and iEverything
And iDirections too in case one needs to be
In a hurry at the Library!
But I had to empathise
On the spot and with love in my heart
If Stranger needs to be in the Library
Then the chances that there would be
Some technology to help find the way
Would probably be very remote and…
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I am writing a new novel write now. But it seems I have to pass over this circumstance.
The unwritten words
Trapped within my subconscious
Wanting to escape
But lodged in cavernous realms
Unable to venture out
My fingers hover
Over the keyboard, waiting
Escapes my fatigued senses
Elopes with my eloquence
Am I not worthy, Muse?
You’ve inspired Homer’s tales:
“Iliad” and “Odyssey”
I, too, presented off’rings
But he was your fav’rite scribe
Must you torment me this way?
Let my words fly free!
Writing is my catharsis
Venting an intense release
Inspired by this week’s Writing Challenge: Genre Blender (“Mash up different genres and writing styles in your post.”)
I’ve written a rant to the muse Calliope in the form of a Tanka poem. I wonder if she’ll respond?
Your smiles’s enticing,
Invites me to spend
One more sweet day.
And fortnights pass
Kissing on thorned bushes.
Life’s filled with no regrets
Rolling ourselves on the bed
Shared each other’s glances.
Entering the coffee shop
Staring at you as you order;
Sipping the same drink together
While I’m wiping your lips.
Your smiles’s enticing
Persuades me to wake up again
For one more sweet day.
Forgetting all yesterday’s pain
As we linked our hands
Feeling the heat in your palm
Showing me your burning love.
Going out on Saturdays
Treating me with street food
Bringing me to places I never knew.
We stood by the corner,
Passed by long, narrow roads
But I knew and I am sure
I am in love with you.
And everytime you let me go,
Everytime you lose your smile
Ships sink, my world feels cold.
Today, I brought no ring
But here’s your popcorn, dear.
Kneeling in front of you,
To ask you to marry me.
Your smiles’s enticing,
Requests me to spend
One more sweet day.
And I am all the more willing
To share your pains in the past
And the uncertainties of the future
I can’t afford to lose your smile again
Stay forever with me.
And in this another sweet day,
Will you marry me?
A response to Daily Post’s Writing Challenge: Genre Blender; I used Romance as my genre and Poetry as my style.
A response to Daily Prompt’s Sweeping Motions
This isn’t a Harry Potter story
Or of some lovers sharing glory
I opened my phone, utters some voice
You said, where are you now?
But the calling time’s maximized,
So I clicked the red button.
The train driver had notified:
Taft Avenue, this is the end station.
I looked outside, sunset starts
And the clouds on the opposite side
Filled the skies with gloomy shade
I phoned you back again
Saying, wait for me there
You dropped the call; shocked to see me
As if I were a ghost, or a mystical wannabe
Our eyes interlocked, moments froze
We met by the rusty escalator
But with you, tightly holding a girl’s hand
Like I expected, she’s of beauty
Her posture’s great, complexion dominates.
Uttering a word, you cannot do.
She said, do you know each other?
You said no, so pain stabs me
We both nodded, but I was doomed
Then the rain heavily falls, shouts in thunders.
We both parted ways, soon after
All the rainbows slowly fade
At that transit’s end station.
‘Twas a big, rainy day
Friends come by and say hey
And all my clouds turned to gray
Finals will come by May.
My eyes locks at computer screen
Feeling nerd, I have been
Summer fades, stress release!
Playing games with ease.
At last, the exam was laid
On my chair’s desk, nerves break
I looked into the first query
My nose bled in fury!
I came across a pavement
Full of compulsive buyers and sellers
Of different garments.
Nervous, held my bag,
Fearing snatchers to pass by.
Suddenly I heard someone spoke
Her voice’s enticing, clinging into my ears
Her words: Buy this at low cost.
‘Twas a old woman, with black-grey hair,
Rugged clothes welcomed me.
Oh sure, Madam! said I.
This vial, said she, will let truth speak
Smoking around your victim!
She laughed; I became a crazy madman
Slowly, opened my purse
Gave her more than a grand
Say, thanks! And left.
And came to my bestfriend,
Removing the vial’s cork;
His breath was overpowered.
For a while, he felt dizzy
I said, Have you ever loved me?
I haven’t, his straight reply.
But at least,the truth has been spoken.
And lies no more linger on my veins.
A response to DAILY PROMPT’s Truth Serum
In response to Daily Prompt‘s Ready, Set, Done
Our free-write is back by popular demand: today, write about anything — but you must write for exactly ten minutes, no more, no less.
The professor said,
Pass your papers!
In a count of three
One … two.
But sir, I haven’t finished
Can’t seem to think
Things filing into bricks
Sleep is indeed
For the weakling
Care about me to rest?
No, my dear, no
You have to study
And prepare for
And for upcoming failures
My back will be laid
On our thick bedsheets
Finally, I’ll sleep!
You’re about to enter a room full of strangers, where you will have exactly four minutes to tell a story that would convey who you really are. What’s your story?
I sat down
For an interview
The breeze, so cold
Touches my hair
I looked around
The panel head
Speaks up, saying
I opened my mouth;
But when word’s uttered,
He speaks again,
I asked, Sir?
Four minutes only. he replied.
Gone into my head.
As I go ahead.
I didn’t hear myself,
Nor the sound of my breath.
I am … I remember.
And finally, they smiled
I now see those teeth
Flourishing white as pearls
Saying, Come back next week.
I said, Sirs?
Welcome to my home
Red carpet’s placed by the door
Welcome to my home
Little do I know
That you’re my brother
And you already have your own daughter
Let her sit on the couch
But let her pee there … never
We knew that you are clever
But you won’t be prevailing ever
This is my home
My house, my whole lot
Welcome to my home
Be now ready to suffer.
I am a Windsor.
Born with great fame and jewels,
Never wished for royalty
But since you desire for it,
Here, the crown is fully yours.