Poets Corner

Overdue Mangrove Visit

Whence, the balding mountains of Negros
Nude, gashed, ruptured but not barren
Should get parched, extremely thirsty
Through the brownish meanders of aged
Untiring rivers still flow homing to the sea.

Still thousands of these motored vehicles
Leave black soot like mobile dirty kitchens
Still, the heads turn to see these patchworks
Of paling green, sickly brown; beautifully anemic
Mountainsides looking like Christian Dior skirts?

Whence, the bridges shall break
To the pressures of brown liquids
In their sporadic overflows, beating
Man's awareness and self-control,
Causing the innocent spontaneity
In temperaments and cycles;

Whence, the restless mangrove must visit
These plastic looking heights
Just via the rivers and outskirts
Of Palinpinon's hot springs, to evade
Angering their already bubbly gurgles
Giving out the hottest spits;

Thence, the restless mangrove shall see
To the balding mountain's cures.

The beauty of this poem is in the be-reader. Thanks for letting the words become.

SEOUL BILLS [Billboards and Bills, an impression poem]

Their main armors are colors
Hues carrying deep intentions,
At first glance, they dance.
Then the colors resist
Leaving the eyes; they travel
Inward to synapses, relaying
Messages of confusing pleasure.

The plague is a beating embryo.

Now, the colors dance outside
Now inside, then all together
The synapses, endings sparkling,
They, too, dance. Ride on,
If one desires preoccupation
Stealing away the occupation,
Time is paid for,
Gold or silver,
Whichever.

Meanwhile, the boards glow
Like bioluminescent organisms.
In the morning bus rush
The young minds, they clash
From last night's concentrations
Black and white definitions
Promptly displaced by the glow
Dancing, sensuous, intentional,
[The traffic flow, I don't know...]

Unstoppable, that's about all.

Thanks for the opport.:p

 

I don’t like sappy poems
Loaded with big words and idioms
I prefer the folksy ones
Tailor made for everyone

But that’s just me I’m really folksy
Grew up with nothing fancy
Simple words I treasure
Simple life a pleasure

I have poems about potatoes
Bananas even tomatoes
I can make one about Shakespeare
But who would care, he’s dead my dear

I love sappy poems
Full of words that makes you wonder
Shall I smile or be weary
Or shall I get a dictionary

 

love me or not

Love Me or Not

Love me or not, love her I must or die ;
Leave me or not , follow her needs must I.
O that her grace would my wished comforts give.
How rich in her, how happy should I live !

All my desire , all my delight should be,
Her to injoy , her to unite to me:
Envy should cease, her would I love alone:
Who loves by looks, is seldom true to one.

Could I enchant, and that it lawful were,
Her would I charm softly that none should hear.
But love enforced rarely yields firm content;
So would I love that neither should repent.

By: Thomas Campion

 

Grandpa's Song

The box was now lowered into the pit
And I thought the song with him was dead
I told myself, to remember it, was no need
What had been sung was past and said.
This grandpa told me before like a creed.
"Do not ever be sad." Grandpa said.

To my grief the sad lyrics came back
Onto my face, on others' no lack
Of details grandpa failed to crack
Like the red/green covered books
Now sitting untouched in the stack.
:(
....................

Budolbudol

Bantay sa budolbudol
Atake sa mga butol
Maayong moestorya
Apan baya klaroha
Paglingi pa nimo sa wala
Nahanaw na imong kuarta.:D

..............................
Either way, life is sound!
Glad the world is round.
Someone out there is sleeping
For some much needed healing
While others are making
Several rounds of shopping
[Did warn you I can be boring!]:D
Here I am facing the forum
I think this poem is going colorum.:D

 

love it love it

Duma..Mam A....Panday Pera.... lets go for the biggest number of hits on this forum, regards JB

 

Here is a different one for ya

No Purple Heart

I have heard the high pitch scream,
of tracers in flight.

I have screamed for the Medic,
and rode the Medevac flight.

As a youngster I sucked it in,
must act like a man.

Now, I cry like a baby,
just a sobbing old man.

Some nights I sleep alone,
for fear of hurting my wife.

I ran from that war,
most all my life.

Some nights I don’t sleep,
because of the Nam.

Many nights I still fight,
the bam-bo boggy man.

I have no purple heart,
but yet I still bleed.

Because in my sleep,
I still fight over seas.

04:55 03/15/09
Sgt. James Bridges

 

If I can reach down in your soul
And pluck the part that torture you
Would you let me?
Would you lie still for me?

Forget the Purple Heart
You have your brilliant life
Ten fingers and ten toes
Two eyes and ears to go

So cast out the Demons my friend
You have won in the end
Would you trade a beating heart
For a million Purple Hearts?

 

nice!

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that's nice panday pera !

 

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grandpainak.., you have some more ? take care

 

In dying we live
When our life we give
So have no fear
Every strand is counted of your hair
This life is just a short passing of time
Eternal spiritual life is thine
So believe The Word
and in Him trust
Ashes to Ashes Dust to Dust