Love casts out fear, it has been said but I have never been as scared as when I loved and gave my heart to love's power and to its art. To what folly have I been ensnared? Alone, I fly free, as a bird leading its wings to paths it dared fly, with no one to lose or hurt. Love casts out fear - in soothing tones, it calls, I learned and followed where my soul love steered - a full life seen from all its parts as its Maker had planned. His art, Love, casts out fear. ~~~~~ Written for PAD Challenge - Day 3 - "_____________ of Love" Linking with DVERSE OPEN LINK NIGHT An attempt at writing a Rondeau.
My beauty lasts but a short time and all I have, to you I give - My velvet blooms, capture in rhyme My beauty lasts but a short time Before rains make my death knells chime I hope I lived my cause to live My beauty lasts but a short time and all I have, to you I give. ~~~~ For dVerse's POetics: From Nature's Point of View
You covered my hands with beauty you lifted the hopes of my soul while we walked down the altar to pledge myself to my love's call How nervous our steps were but you covered my hands with beauty concealed the trembling of my bones that a radiant smile eyes would see You witnessed new life being built by two hearts vowing to be one You covered my hands with beauty and thus enhanced their offering You are now but gossamer skin in the folds of my gown. To me No flower could be more precious- You covered my hands with beauty.
P.S. The above flowers are not the flowers referred to here. They were tulips that we picked out from a grocery store the night before our wedding. I would have loved to have roses but by then the roses have completely sold out because of Valentine’s Day.
In the blazing heat of a Middle eastern sun he toils for hours away from his family - young daughters and wife loved from a distance. Birthdays came and birthdays went ten years had gone by hugs and kisses were given through their Facebook posts accompanied by pictures with happy faces concealing their longing hearts. Each bear the sadness for dreams of a better life - good education for the girls, now young women little luxuries providing simple pleasures and good memories as he can give from afar. He waits and he works his hopes in the desert sands to be home at last assuaging homesickness with virtual presence each moment it's possible 'til no screen is between them.
Thanks to Gayle’s Dverse prompt – The Choka – I am glad to finally break a blogless spell. Lack of time (to think, writer, and visit blogs) and inspiration kept me away for weeks. I do not know how often I can post with school resuming and a needy baby starting to walk, but I hope to keep this page and friendships alive somehow. Ah, my belated wishes for a happy and wonderful new year to all of you.
The inspiration for this piece is a cousin who now works in Israel and has not visited his family for a long time. The title, OFW, means Overseas Filipino Worker which the Philippines, due to her economic situation, has plenty of.
Meanwhile, the Choka, according to Gayle, is a Japanese form poetry that tells a story. It has an indefinite number of lines but the lines alternate between 5 and 7 syllables. The poem ends with an extra seven syllable line. For more of Choka, please visit the link above.
“Take me on a trip upon your magic swirling ship My senses have been stripped My hands can't feel to grip My toes too numb to step” ~ from Mr. Tambourine Man by Bob Dylan My heart lies in the wasteland shattered into pieces just like the promises my idols used to make I laughed at him who would promise the moon then I heard you sing, my heart skipped - your dream woke my own I believed in magic again I let fall my crutches, your hands I grip - Take me on a trip upon your magic swirling ship bring me to heights I have never been in the land of unicorns we live enchantment Happiness we'll sprinkle like stars make believers of cynical hearts I am a schoolgirl whose giddy lips burn with first love's kiss Slake my thirst This bliss could I keep? My senses have been stripped dancing by your strings Keep singing your song to hold me in your thrall I will hold you in a pedestal Your honor is my own and May thunder and lightning rip him who pricks our bubble Yet sometimes I taste the honey- coated bile that from your mouth slips My hands can't feel to grip the scales around my eyes I would rather keep them there to maintain my illusions than be hurt by the truth- your grandeur was only my hunger feeding on itself. If my world slipped and revealed you for who you are - a piper leading me to a cliff - Might I have that gift while I soundly slept: My toes too numb to step.
For Meeting the Bar, DVerse Poets’ Pub asks the patrons to write a piece inspired by Bob Dylan to honor his winning the Nobel Prize for Literature. While I know Mr. Dylan, I am not familiar with his body of works except perhaps for Blowing in the Wind. It was widely played during the years of dictatorship in the Philippines and especially during its waning days in ’86. Blowing in the Wind became a pseudo anthem for the Filipinos aching to be free of the tyranny of the Marcos era. Perhaps my cousins played a lot of Mr. Dylan’s song, but I might not have appreciated his genre which tended towards folk-country.
I was a bit disheartened when I read about the Meeting the Bar prompt but I looked up his music in youtube anyway. I still had trouble with the musical flavor (I am sorry for the fans of the genre. I offer as excuse my growing up as a country bumpkin in the more rural villages of the Philippines) so I searched for the lyrics to his songs. What beautiful poetry opened before my eyes. I am most impressed by Mr. Tambourine Man, not only because of its wistful words, but also because I think that the melody is something I can relate to. After listening to the song several times, and reading the words several times, I am convinced that Mr. Tambourine Man is an even better work than Blowing in the Wind.
I am sunshine
I am rain
I am laughter
I am pain
I am contradiction
walking between heaven and hell.
I am my cross
I am my gift
I am the oppressor
I fight to be free.
I am hard won victory over me.
A sleepless mother, a crying child
a halting lullaby escaping sealed shut lips
working through the night.
On a hot sultry day,
a videoke blared above the din
of barking dogs and grimy children.