lyrical, poetic, personal
When God pour luck with his scepter;
She was sleeping.
He did it again and again,
And same thing,
She was sleeping again and again.
“What a conundrum
Of not knowing the standard time
He’s using!” She felt dumb
For the missed opportunities—
She whined.
So she texted and emailed—
But He didn’t return any.
She grabbed her iPhone and asked, “Siri, call God.”
Siri answered, “I don’t see God in your contacts.
Who do you want to call?”
I saw the stars in your eyes,
The crescent moon in your smile.
On your chest, I felt how hills were so alive,
And in your lips I tasted the best of earth.
To have it all again, I ache.
So deny me not of your love dear
Deny me not, or I would die.
A singing robin perched at my window pane,
A wandering other just came;
And then it happened. . . them
So I closed the curtains to honor their privacy—
Although their acts are too vulgar for me.
But it’s spring.
They’re alive;
Their vulgarity is justified.
Shh! Keep it a secret!
Be nice.
Nothing is harder
Than waiting for something
That is not coming at all.
It’s like looking for a river in a desert;
Or foreseeing a fish to walk;
Worse, gain global peace genuinely—fantasy!
Sadly, time is an invincible adversary.
Years of looking at sand clock is not funny.
It’s exhausting, really.
Before I ask God a long list of queries;
After I give Him a big bear hug;
Before I touch His felicitous face;
After I kiss His pleasing palm;
I’d whisper reverently
Your name, your name my friend:
To bless your heart, bless your heart
For blogging and being a blessing
For greater good, greater good.
I bet He knows you, He knows you pal.
But He’d most likely air,
“Alright!
But you’re being redundant daughter.
You kept saying that prayer for your friend.”
Verily, I would answer,
“Forgive me for the anaphora, Father.
I’m too elated for my answered prayer.”
As a sonata is softly playing,
special memories are coming back
of a sterling night
at the shore of Waikiki
under the serene moon
and sparkling stars:
The slushing of waves above the moonlighted sea,
The fast beating of our hearts,
The so secretive murmurings,
The decadent lips sharing honey,
The sinuous touches strumming magic
To two aching bodies in paradise;
of two longing souls reaching heaven on earth
in such a sweet discourse.
Recommended Song:
It’s Just a Love Song
by Walter Murphy
Revised 02/13/24, 6:04 (HST)
Snowman is not a hero;
He is just on call from December’til December.
But the snows keep filing up in several feet—never
Say never.
The brave dares a number of times in the shower,
Would it make a difference? I wonder.
While the weak catches flu, needing a steamer,
“Rip off,” says the old lady to the heater.
Jackets and sweaters are life savers,
Add bonnets and gloves to make it warmer.
The thin and thinner
Are your greatest nayers.
Winter, Oh Winter
Not to be mean, but you shouldn’t stay much longer.
Should be at most,
begone when fireworks are over.
I’m not into summer;
I rather spring linger,
When all flowers bloom
With kisses from dews
and so as the shrooms.
I’m not into summer;
I rather spring linger,
When grasses are groomed
Those tiny greens
On which feet are o’er the moon.
I’m not into summer;
I rather spring linger,
When nature dispense its perfume
And time’s up
for snow and gloom.
I’m not into summer;
I rather spring linger,
For the thought of an old love brings gloom
Though in sad face,
I pray for healing to come soon.
If Kitty won’t love me enough;
If he won’t hold the fort enough—
Perhaps summer should be in the freezer,
To make spring linger,
And hope hold the scepter a little bit longer.
YouTube/Regine Velasquez/No Walls, No Ceilings, No Floors
Lyrics, Sentiments and Me 
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