Limitless Boundaries

Everything that is truly,
breathtakingly beautiful
is found above.

Like white pillow clouds,
Forming dragons dining on a long table
Ducks spreading wings on top of an alligator
Remolded into a cotton candy
With vanilla ice cream flavor.
On and on the painting changes,
The indecisive wind sure makes a lot of smudges. Continue reading Limitless Boundaries

Advertisements

Extra! Extra!

Percolating Poetry

i’ve read
all about it
there’s little
in this ‘oyster’ of mine
let alone extra
and this ‘stage’
has but too many players
and only one way out
so in the comfort
of my ragged womb
i return to the
fetal position
my benched bed
is too short
and i, yesterday’s news,
permanently crumpled
cannot find
the funnies
between the editorials
and back page ads
as a Rolex baring
wrist flicks a quarter
missing my tin can dreams

View original post

The Blame Game

Percolating Poetry

life
a series of
actions and reactions
decisions and consequences
choices
blame not
the three weird sisters
for they neither
spin, measure nor cut
the threads of humanity
there are no virgin births (except for Jane)
and no ascensions (except for the cremated)
we are born
we die
and what happens before,
in between
and after is
not a conspiracy between
fate and destiny

*For the Daily Post prompt, coincidence

View original post

For the Ortho Queen

You took the saying
“Take all the time in the world,”
Quite too seriously
Kneaded time
Like a perfectionist baker
Thought of the next move
Like a professional chess player

Our bonding moments
Were mostly department stores
And passing hours
Bustling marketplaces
And few more hours
Scavenging through
Mounds and mounds of ukay-ukays,
Cramping legs
And million begs:
“Mama, uwi na tayo, Continue reading For the Ortho Queen

Pandemonium

The psychiatrist told me
To remember all the things
That sends light
And warmth
In my heart
Like a ray of sunlight
Scattering all over the rubble we left
That was once called a city.

I told her I can’t
Because the only light
I could see
Is the spark
At the end
Of a barrel of a gun
Straight into
my father’s temple
As my mother made
a shrill noise
Still echoing in my ear
While I sat hushed
On a dark corner,
Hand over my mouth
As if to preserve
What little life
Is left of me.
If there is still any. Continue reading Pandemonium