When a bipedal opt to climb trees of prejudices, chauvinism, and cynicism
instead of walking on the fair grounds of wisdom, compassion, and humility—
Monkeynity exists.
Then “. . . happily ever after” becomes pure myth.
When a bipedal opt to climb trees of prejudices, chauvinism, and cynicism
instead of walking on the fair grounds of wisdom, compassion, and humility—
Monkeynity exists.
Then “. . . happily ever after” becomes pure myth.
(Copyrights belong to Pixelz.com)
Quick press on home to summon Siri:
“Best of the City,”
From Google to cherished faculties:
Three-hundred-sixty
degrees in Capilano Bridge at six-thirty,
to find the greenest spot for selfie.
It’s quite a challenge for two ordinary
Orientals to take the best selfies:
One so tall and one too tiny—
stick ain’t gonna work really.
Roasted pistachios, cashews, and hickories
to feed the fur flies at Stanley
and him, who is genuinely happy.
When the violin plays as Gondola reaches Grouse summit,
her joy is brighter than all of the lights in the city.
A walk at cobblestoned Gassy
ended at the clock tower
with busses here and there
—and lots of “crazy.”
YouTube/Burt Bacharach/Arthur’s Theme
(Courtesy of AllFreeDownload.com)
Ang kahapon natin, daig pa si Ninoy
sa pangangalumbaba.
Isang batang pinagkaitan ng lollipop
at lobo—
Hindi tuloy sya natutong mangarap.
Hindi nya tuloy nalaman
ang pag-asang dala ng bukas.
Isang ibong pinagkalooban ng pakpak
subalit bali mula’t sapul-
kaya’t tanaw tanawan lamang ang paglipad ng iba;
kaya’t pahuni-huni’t
lihim—na—pagiyak—lamang—
ang—tanging—kaya.
Tanong:
Ano bang meron sila?
May naiwan ba ako sa matres ng nanay ko
Kaya ako ganito?
Bakit ba parang napakalaking kasalanan
Maging ako?
Psst. . . bughaw na ulap,
Sagutin mo nga ako.
Kilala mo naman ako;
Pareho naman tayo.
Line-by-line Translation (Not verbatim)
Blue Sky
Our yesterday is way notorious than Ninoy
in coddling melancholy.
It’s but a child deprived of lollipop
and balloon—
never knowing how to dream;
never knowing
the hope that tomorrow brings.
It’s but a bird born with wings
but fractured ever since—
stuck in Indian sit watching others spread theirs,
softly crying
deep within
constrained of ways and means.
Question:
What do they have?
Did I forget anything in my mother’s womb
That I am like this?
Why does it seems so wrong
To be me?
Psst. . . blue sky,
Answer me.
You know me anyway;
We’re the same anyway.
YouTube/We’ve Only Just Begun
(Thank you Pexel and WordPress!)
You are most awaited
for the colors,
the warmth,
the light and life
you bring.
Bloodroots bloom
in the East welcoming you
while all can’t wait to end snow blues.
Wetland poppies are copycats of daisies—
Azure butterflies are hovering confused.
Rusty, sticky
saps are hanging,
teasing from maple trees
while aphids and leafhoppers
wait for fallen grace so patiently.
New lambs
jump with gusto
too tiny to think of rodeo.
Big Antartica,
be gayo!
Mountains sing
flourishing in hues of green and pink;
While cascading rainbows of tulips,
hydrangeas, and daffodils
groove and stun in fields.
Nature bids farewell
to snows
and winter chills.
Courtesy of TypesofKissing.com
At two-thirty,
very carefully,
quietly,
I lift the dirty-white blanket
to get up in bed.
I glance a few
making sure
not to disturb you.
I walk to your side,
and sit on the floor
enjoying the view:
You,
in this rarest early morning
when your snoring
has gone AWOL.
I grin coz it’s adorable!
Though the clock
is a relentless irk,
I can’t deny joy:
This, seeing you in peace-
I have not seen
you so at rest
for quite long.
Still,
into you still:
Staring,
memorizing,
trying
to embed
in my eyes,
in my head,
in my mind
every fine line,
every defining curve,
every minute mole
in your face.
I admit
having the second,
the third,
the fourth thought
of letting you go.
But we both know
right
owns the last
and final word.
In silent tears,
I move closer a little above your ear,
smelling your hair
for one last time.
Kiss is a luxury
parting hearts can’t afford.
So I close my heavy lids
thinking our lips
are rich–
and they indulge.
The true fortune of a man
are the friends who choose
to be with him
when they can be somewhere
else around.
People pay
the apt and agile
to get things done.
People pay
the brightest and freshest minds
for ideas, perspectives and beyond.
People pay
for the expertise
they lack.
Because,
“people need people.”
Who doesn’t need people?
And friends,
they’re simply people–
the best of them all.
To cut the sentimental,
middle-aged lady’s going
endless musing:
I thank God
for those generous souls
who opt to be my people.
I am humbled
to have you all.
It’s a kindling thing–
One must have done
something good
to earn the title.
And or
one have done
such good
over the course of time
or experience.
Because to have
another set of eyes,
an extra pair of hands and feet,
a reserve of mind, heart,
and soul–
more so, more. . .
It always helps.
So to have–
whether it’s a feel
or just thoughts–
of having one with you
as you ride
the rough waves
and gusty winds
of life,
is a gift
ever from above.
And nothing from above
ever is little.
In doubt?
Ever check the sky.
YouTube/That’s What Friends Are For/Perry Como
YouTube/That’s What Friends Are For/Ladies of Soul
There’d be songs and poems
to sing
while melodies in its invisible wings
carry hearts to wishes
and fondest memories.
There’d be a bowl of popcorn,
and marathon of Stallone’s,
while four feet get romantic,
and while two learn some moves
from actions.
There’d be mirths in the rain,
icings on noses
lots of yellow daisies and red roses,
blue forget-me-nots and pink tulips
on bedsides and doorsteps.
teasing strawberries from pouting lips
and cherries on a belly.
There’d be us in a glorious sunset
at Sandy Beach.
Barefooted, we’d walk hand-in-hand
trailing the imprints
of the greatest lovers amongst us
such as the waves and shores,
such as the seas and sands—
ever inseparable.
But surviving the constraints of time,
We arrive in quiet tears of joy.
Then we kiss.
We taste the universe
and have the dampen earth
in our lips.
In between pain and glory, there is love.
YouTube/Moon River/Renee Dominique
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Sharing A Piece Of Myself With The World, Connecting With Similar Minds, Exploring The World Through Books, Writing About What Matters, And Healing A Soul Every day. I Am A Weird Girl Who Doesn't Fit In. I Write For Those Who Cannot Speak. I Write To Tell People That It Is Ok To Be Different In A World Where Everyone Is Struggling To Fit In. I Am On A Journey Of Self Restoration And I Want You To Come With Me. You Are Welcomed To Speak Boldly With Intellect. Please Be Kind And Respectful. Use The Right Words - I Have Young Readers. Email: annastylescollaboration@gmail.com. Published Book Of Poetry: Let Your Mind Speak .Favorite Author: Chimamanda Adichie .Dream Schools: Minerva University And Vassar College. My Book Review Blog: Book Blenders. Mental Health Blog: Feeling And Healing With Anna. Author Interviews Are Currently Paused Due To College Applications! Guest Bloggers Are Still Welcomed. Topics I Prefer: Self-Awareness, Self-Discovery, Mental Health Support, And Poetry. 2000 Wordpress Followers Soon! 4000+ General Followers Currently. Sending Love To Everyone!
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