Posts Tagged ‘poem’

You stand breathless

with the sun’s soft kiss on your cheeks

And the gentle morning breeze

touches your skin –

a shiver –

enough to feel what the day would bring.

And you wonder –

do  ants ever stop to take a rest?

Or do they always travel far

to know what living is like

among dead woods?

And like true soldiers

they move on storing something

for the rainy days.

Would love be like that?

Can it endure the long trek to the top?

Or would it just slowly dies

leaving you breathless

with pain in your eyes?

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The morning shadows

remind you of last night’s

struggles with sleep.

Did you dream that life was easy?

Did you dream that someday

love dies in the midst of the morning?

I have thought

forever is a lovely word.

And I have thought

promises could be a forceful bind

and not broken utterances

that have no meaning.

Because  forever never lasts.

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The mountains beckon

Whispering  sad songs.

They speak of long-ago dreams.

I’d love to come back here

If only to feel the exhilaration

of  knowing –

That somewhere in the labyrinth

of memories,

We were happy

Just looking at this vista

Sharing thoughts of home.

Maybe, when I come back here

I  would just absorb the silence

While the wind whispers to my ears,

I am home!

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There are paths that lead somewhere –

To the innermost corner of your heart ,

And you sometimes feel the pain of rejection

A love lost

A love gone.

Life is never perfect –

But deep within

You say,

I should.

I can.

I will.

Moving on,

Letting go,

Another journey to traverse

With courage,

With faith,

With acceptance.

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Sometimes you look back and see

Just mere shadows of the past

And you desperately try to recapture

Those moments of bliss and laughter

They’re now just blurred visions

Like a screened window where shadows lurk


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The music

lingers still

Except –

there are no words

to complete the song.

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Coming to this

I learned  that

Life ought to be lived

The best you know how

Just sometimes

You swim not knowing

when to reach the shore

But flowing with the tide

Has its rewards

A rich blessing of

Coming to terms with yourself

Once more.


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When you say:
Can’t you do that for once?
you might actually mean:
– I am tired of your irresponsibility
– I resent telling you things
– I don’t like myself for having to remind you.

When you say:
You don’t really care that much, do you?
you might actually mean:
– it hurts that you care so little
– please care more!
– it hurts me that we communicate like strangers
– I am waiting for you to woo me again
   to love me,
   for me to be special to you.

Whey you say:
I am so tired of life!
you might actually mean:
– our life has lost its real intensity
– please do something!
– we have become what we did not want to become
– I don’t want to try to convince you any more
   that our life centres too much around working,
   eating and TV.

When you say:
I can’t stand you when you’re like that!
you might actually mean:
– I feel threatened by you
– can’t you see that I lack all self-respect
   and all sense of self-worth
– I just don’t know how to answer you
– I don’t like myself when you bring the worst
   out in me
– please don’t play that role
   because I can see right through it.

When you say:
You always/never do that!
you might actually mean:
– I am frustrated that neither of us
   can really listen to the other
– your coolness bothers me
– please react
   I am as aggressive as I can be
– I feel ignored and want to communicate with you.

I know that we use words to hide, to hit, to run away:
words are smoke-screens and security-builders;
words are bait to be swallowed
   by the unsuspecting;
words are arm-twisters and weakening agents;
words are shots, barbs and hooks;
words are mirrors of the soul;
words are cries for help;
words are words and so much more.

Because I want to know you,
and to communicate with you,
I will be open to what lies beyond your words.

– lifted from the book A Growing Love (Meditations
on Marriage and Commitment) by Ulrich Schaffer

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He walks –

And his feet lead to the green door

He sees familiar sites

The rose arbor, the trellis he made before

He knocks –

And waits patiently

He asks himself

When did I  come here last?

He feels that sudden knot of fear

Regrets come late

Remorse is  an even bitter pill to swallow

Am I late, he asks?

The door opens

And he sees a stranger.

I am…..he says

Come in, the stranger answers.

The decor has changed

And the pictures are gone

Is this…..he could not go on

She died a year ago.

The stranger says.

She could have waited.

If you said you were coming back.

She could have told you.

She has never forgotten.

A decade –

Days and months of waiting

Even a loving heart

Sometimes feel tired

Even a  happy soul

Slowly dies….

And love, long after it’s neglected

Dies a natural death too.

He retraces his steps

And becomes

A solitary man

Once more.



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The stars are out tonight sending sinews of hope for a better tomorrow.  Just looking at the pictures of the victims of typhoon Sendong and listening to the news  of  how more than a thousand died  and many more missing makes me feel depressed somehow.  As I have always said before, you can never really empathize  unless you were a victim yourself and experienced the same thing they are experiencing right now.  Typhoon Ondoy made me wary of the things it brought and the lessons learned and until now, every time it rains, I still feel that uncertain fear.  But life has to go on despite everything right?

Yes, in times like these, I resort to  reading poems or sometimes just focus  on inspirational books to get by. One of  my early favorites (aeons ago, since I was still in college when I found him) is Rod McKuen.  It’s a little uncanny when you find an author who exactly echoes your thoughts and what you feel right at that moment that you need to reassure yourself that everything is well. I miss my only book I had of his works but at least I could google him up and still enjoy reading his thoughts.

There should be some silence in this place so thought can harvest things it’s lately caught. I hope that you will take this as a resting space. A bench provided just before the clearing up ahead.

Arms around me these past years have not been commonplace, your comfort passed to me from out there, somewhere – dare we call it outer space, has kept me safe. Your thought embraces better than the memory’s triumph over time. I have longed for you, thought up songs for you, missed and mourned you as the times passed past. Here you are. Brought back to me by your wish mixed with mine. Noise cannot touch us here. I will try and make for you the calmest place there is within this loud and getting louder world.

No map to help us find the tranquil flat lands, clearings calm, fields without mean fences. Rolling down the other side of life our compass is the sureness of ourselves. Time may make us rugged, ragged round the edges, but know and understand that love is still the safest place to land.

The journey back is always longer than the forward run.

Cats have it all – admiration, an endless sleep, and company only when they want it.

Once I thought ideas were exceptions not the rule. That is not so. Ideas are so plentiful that they ride on air. You have only to reach out and snatch one.

Strangers are just friends waiting to happen.

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