lyrical, poetic, personal
Hello friends, forgive me, I haven’t get the chance to see how you and your blogs are doing lately. But I hope all is well and everyone is safe and healthy and happy. Thank you for your generosity and support. I’ll make it up to you soon. Have fun blogging and writing and posting. A blessed Sunday to you all! To God be always all the glory.
Xoxo
Related:
https://ainabalagtas.com/2021/10/04/and-we-waltz-the-blues/
YouTube/All I Ask of You/Daddy Daughter Duo/Phantom of the Opera
Updated 01:04, Tuesday, October 11, 2022.
Brethren, how could you ask me “face the mirror?” How could you trust that it can tell you everything about me? How can mere reflection speak of me? Or of anyone.
Yes, my face wears fine and deep lines. . . . but aren’t we all at the mercy of time? Yes, my hairs are often uncombed. . . . mind sparing me a comb? And yes, my lips turned mauve. . . . inflation is such a bummer—I’m sure you know.
But those are not all who I am. I ask not for sympathy; but empathy and understanding can make you a better man. Compassion is divine.
Truth: The mirror is ignorant. . . . of the throes of my mind, battling external and internal enemies; of the weight on my shoulders, enduring given to-dos—I didn’t even sign; of the lading at my feet, trying so hard to head north even with just a dime.
Such an ignoramus, a true dunce. . . . it cannot speak for the heart I give to my love and passion; it cannot speak for my spirit, though in ruins but is relentless in carrying on; it cannot speak for the breadth and depth of my soul, ever rallying and laboring for a meaningful cause.
It can’t be stressed enough: blind spot is real. . . . of which mirror is ill.
YouTube/Reflection/Christina Aguilera
When love’s adrift
in the dark ocean of uncertainty,
it’s floating against all odds.
And its once cherished dream
would likely be the fatality.
YouTube/You Make it Hard/Kalapana
At divot stomping:
The Queen squished misogyny,
squished with grace and smile.
With an inflatable boat,
and refurbished paddles from Amazon,
gearing to sail from the Pacific
heading to the Atlantic.
Compass-less, the silly, tiny, corny
hopeful romantic—
to be modest-
kisses and throws the dices to the sea.
Undeterred of the missing stars,
the true champs of hide-and-seek,
scheming ‘gainst the full moon in nostalgia,
daydreaming; listening to a wistful tune.
Recommended Song:
Suddenly
by Olivia Newton-John
(Feat Cliff Richard)
[The bright side of depression, in my case, is my renewed faith to our Creator. With all honesty, it was during that lowest point of my life, when I fully realized His love, grace, and compassion. That amid the severity of my health battles: I completed my degree, now working for a decent company and out of Rx—I truly feel so blessed. So, to Him be all the glory and praise! But in deep gratitude, I scribbled a sonnet (a little polished this time, having the iambic pentameter of abab cdcd efef gg), and all for this growing agape I have inside. Blessings to you all! Aloha kakou and mahalo nui everybody!]
I am somebody because you love me. Yes, nobodiness . . . Emily’s business; But immersed, to love you is my heart’s decree. Yours is a masterpiece of quaintness. Enduring, liberating, promising, Divine, unconditional, eternal— Yours and yours alone is everlasting! Yours and yours alone . . . sovereign perpetual! Perhaps I was at some point nobody. Perhaps to some ears, . . . a ding, or a pop. Perchance to some eyes, a blank, a void, Ye. Perchance to some some, nothing but a dot. _ But I vowed my head; I clasped my hands. _ I heard you say you love me just as You’re Grand.
[As a self-taught poet, I wrote many odes, ballads, and even haikus—but not a sonnet—because it’s extremely hard. As it is made of 14 lines with 10 syllables each and ideally rhyming. Usually something of deep desire, sonnets are the “forte” of the great William Shakespeare (who is especially known for iamb characteristics). Finally, and thankfully, I penned one down. Please bear with my first. Feel free to comment “for my missus” guys. I love you! And thank you so much!]
Why iamb goes double when I think of you?
I’m sure, espresso has nothing to do.
Not about the abs; no, not that one too!
Just as Valli sings, haven’t lay hands too.
How true? You; iamb. You; iamb, iamb.
Poems, blues, text, emojis in pink— . . . think those too.
Maybe when you say my name that would do.
Can Venus or the stars blink for some clues?
Why most answers are at-large? Got it woods!
For whatever reason, . . . just thanks, I’m alive.
Grateful for our to-dos—-I really do!
Spring wind gently brushing skin: Thrive dream, thrive!
Summer sun peeps, . . . and so thoughts of shave ice.
You; iamb. You; iamb, iamb, iamb.
YouTube/My Eyes Adored You/Frankie Valli & the Four Season
A song,
A poem,
A dance,
A picture,
A book,
A story,
A bloom,
A spring,
A summer,
Soft.
Kind.
Tender.
Vivid.
Rich.
True.
Pink.
Glorious.
Magical.
On and on. . .
YouTube/I’ll Never Say Goodbye/Earl Klugh
Lyrics, Sentiments and Me 
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