Feeds:
Posts
Comments

Posts Tagged ‘sky’

Forever seems a word unspoken

upon seeing the herd of caribou

silently crossing an ancient pathway

under the pearly moon.

 

The soft glistening flutter of misty light

on the river finding its way to the sea.

Reflecting the stars painted on the sky

like little eyes- all knowing

since the beginning of time.

 

It made me cry.

 

Something within me springs

divine and humbly I begin

to wonder-

 

My smallness

in the scheme of things

pre-occupied with thoughts

of needing only to survive.

 

Creatures of this earth on the move

tracking down the maps of our lives.

Encircling this cycle waiting

for the sun to rise in the morning.

 

Travelling through journeys

winding as these trails

like the herd of caribou

silently passing by the route

 

with one life to live.

Advertisements

Read Full Post »

Someone have told me

that when your feet begins

to dig deeper into the ground,

as if you are carrying a heavy rock

upon your shoulders.  Do not fail

to look up and turn your eyes

from looking down.  And you will

discover  the big sky above you.

 

Let the wide space fill your mind.

Embrace the world and fathom

the depth, the height and width of it.

Let the wind carry your spirit-

a dot in the sand completing

this tapestry of life. You belong

to a grand plan, ever since

when the universe is born.

 

No matter how fearsome it would become

No matter how fierce the odds are.

No one will take away your piece of sky.

Be steady and look beyond the horizon.

Drift like an eagle  among the clouds.

Redeem  your place in the sun.

As hope burn brightly like a new day.

Read Full Post »

Lines converge

into the center of our visions,

unhindered by picket fences.

 

Shuffling images on a collage-

brick walls in grafitti,

kites, flags and confetti.

 

The gaping surrealism

in cloudless sky of reverie. Fleeting

in the tail-end of comets.

 

Color trapped in spectrum

of rainbows and sandstorms

obscuring the bluest of hemispheres.

 

“The world was linear,

we exist in parallelisms.”

This is our perspective.

 

Have we understood

the secrets of the horizon?

Our dreams fading without trace.

Read Full Post »

Look at me.

A corporate soldier.

Working wounded

in the company of men-

wolves in sheep’s clothing.

Deceiving as snakes.

Cunning as sharks.

 

And here, the desk became

my war machine. Riding

in the engines of my brain.

Words and strategies wielding

like speeding bullets, as weapons.

 

I must learn the art of combat.

 

And it’s going to rain today.

But not of the sky.

But with paper planes

piling up in my incoming tray,

touching down like flies.

 

The cubicle is a battleground.

 

I need a saving grace, ejecting

from this capsuled seat. When

life signals on a high wire-

blinking signs of warning.

Maneuvering survival,

evading a free fall.

Beating the deadline.

 

I’m burned out.

Read Full Post »

To Pablo Neruda

I write these letters in smoke. They are fog

to the starry night of the south where you existed,  

circumnavigated the world, then extinguished

as a flame, long before I was born.

 

You said you had lived in the springtime

among the cherry blossoms of the west. While

here on this island, I had lived humming

lullabye amidst the scorched patches of sand.

 

I cannot sit still and my memory was filled

of your presence here. I can hear your voice

from a distant time and place. Your voice has traveled

and finally touch down inwardly and it lingers.

 

Tonight, the sad lines of your verses haunt me forever,

love is short and forgetting is so long”.

I chewed the words on my empty stomach

as the light from your waning moon fills my room.

 

I have no windows, they are shattered.  There is no door to enter,

so you don’t need to knock.  Inside my house is fire left by bombs

and gunfire.  And on my earthened floor are scattered pieces

of limbs and severed heads of dead dogs and cats devoid of shelter.

 

I have seen the heaven through the bullet holes on my tin roof.

And the fire is still burning from within. I have seen the clouds

unfolding and unfastened as I became the enemy of the gods,

pot-bellied in the pulpit- imposing cruelty to fools purchasing piety.

 

I have been an inheritor of misfortune, like a stubborn root

of an old dying tree, digging the earth to its graveyard, a tomb.

I seek to find in this endless tunnel, a repose for my corpse-

stiff, in pain and left there naked, writhing in the cold.

 

I can no longer find the stars in the night sky, Pablo.

And the tears begin to fall like rain on the tin roof.

Outside, you wailed a storm, flooding my being,

persistent, engulfing me with the soliloquy of the night.

 

This bed I made out of the coconut tree, lacerating my body

of little knives, that have sliced and shredded my soul. And I

smelled of the blood through the blade of your words

as I whisked them away to the westerly winds to reach you.

 

I ask you. Why things happened this way? History blood-stained.

And the sea mourns while changing course of the mighty river.

In the horizon, a crimson tide of the many who died seeking the meaning

of their lives. And the night birds still singing their lonely dirge.

 

I ask you. Where are the lilac? Immortalized in sonnets by men,

those middle-aged aristocrats. And the women becoming birds of prey,

caged and waiting to be sold.  Incessantly knocking on the doors

to see some faint hope traversing the day into their neon light.

 

Where are the language of stars? Deciphered by hypnotized strangers

who quest for clues and signs and wonders.  Why does the rain

did not stop from falling? I am bailing out to exist from this deluge,

finding redemption while concealing my cowardice. I cannot fight.

 

I am poor, Pablo. But I know your name. And the dense earth that

we both lived, became the pavement for  marching foot falls

of the many striving to live to see until their dying day- freedom,

justice and equality. Unanswered like prayers, unheard of the divine.

 

Your verses did not speak of dreams and leaves and great volcanoes

of your native land.  Your verses did not promise the opium

that will heal the wounds of time.  But your verses have spoken

of the blood in the streets.  And the blood in the streets, I have seen.

 

I will offer an elegy in my homeland. I will sing your song in vain,

hoping for someone to hear and join me singing your immortal chorus.

Your ashes I would want to scatter into the night clouds until tomorrow.

When morning will be awakened by pilgrims sojourning the other world.

 

And still, I am waiting for the stars to appear in the Far-east. I had

only a rose to your funeral.  I will not be able to attend. But I will

whisper to the westerly winds my discontent and the endless despair

you will hear from the shore of this island, questioning existence.

Read Full Post »

In the distance

after the crash-

 

strong winds

lingers cold.

Unsettling

the desert,

 

a constant

epic battle.

Forgotten.

 

Silent torment

 

gathering

storm clouds.

Marching sound

of thunder

and lightning

invading sky.

 

World in sepia

fragile scenes-

blanket of dust

and scarlet tide.

Flames

embers

cinders

ashes

fall

fall

 

Fall.

Read Full Post »

We have cried together, seeing

the pages of our lives torn into pieces.

And how we knitted to rebuild it,

and washed them like dirty linens

in the laundry. Just like a potter

we build and sculpt in us

a new mold of the world

we never knew existed.

 

We exchanged our boxes

of secrets and a set of keys.

 

We swore by the heart. And

made a vow that we would keep

them locked and tightly sealed.

That we would be keeping each

other’s stories, only to ourselves

and no one else. And for the longest

possible time, it  has come to a point,

a reckoning. The seal of promise

had been broken.

 

Unlocking my box and spilling

the foam of words into little teardrops-

they fall like brimstones and fire

from the night sky, now. And the moon

must have hidden its face turning

into red, in anger and in shame. Bleeding

in the agony of a broken promise.

An impending death to a friendship.

 

Still, I am keeping my silence, thinking deeply

if it is worth to hide your keys in my pocket?

If keeping your box tightly sealed, or at once,

let them out in the open, will exact revenge?

While my flesh quivered at the thought

of why would you dare crossing the line,

betraying my trust. While my bones splintered

at the thought that I would dearly want you

squirm in your own bloodbath, redeeming self.

 

But I decided not to. 

 

Letting the ghost of your betrayal haunt you down

into your grave. A tormented soul, wandering

the dark halls searching for some kind of atonement.

Asking forgiveness.

Read Full Post »

« Newer Posts - Older Posts »