Hope-poem

When all else fail
and hope seems no trail
look upon the dark gloomy sky
and you will see
underneath the clouds
a spark of light is
desperately wanting to come out.

 

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This poem is inspired by a recent visit to the NATIONAL LIBRARY OF SINGAPORE. There they provide a reading space for kids.

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And as I observed them reading silently, I realized that I am witnessing the future leaders of the world who will change the course of humanity. Hope is really still evident in the eyes of every child.

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For Once

 

You are assertive and unyielded a friend who patiently listens and never walks away, not once.

 

You are refined and polished one, our source of encouragement, a man of honor and gratitude, all at once.

 

You’re always willing to say “sorry” and “forgive” me a nurturing man and a loving partner all at once.

 

You are our wall of trust and security and we knew you will never betray us, not even once.

 

Spending time with you is fun; you share tricks and shortcuts and make academics enjoyable, for once.

 

Affection could be your surname

you hug, you kiss as a mother does, all for once.

 

You are a pillar of strength, support, and discipline your work is endless oftentimes thankless, but I will thank you Dad, I knew at once.

 

 

 

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My first attempt at Ghazal poetry form was inspired by a recent visit to the Singapore National Museum. My hero has always been my father. Apart from reading and writing, we share the same passion for Arts and Culture and he would have been so delighted to see these exhibits. According to Gay Reiser Cannon at d’Verse, who introduced the components of the ghazal for their challenge, the ghazal’s narrator “is always a hero longing for the unattainable”.

 

Barong Tagalog

I heard the news of you leaving as someone from the other line was sobbing, crying, weeping. “He’s gone”, was all I can hear. I wept, I cried ’till I can’t cry anymore.

It was a warm summer morning.

You left without saying goodbye. Without notice. It broke my heart in pieces, I could die.

I told myself I’ll never go far away from you again, but what’s the point?

I was wounded, helpless, and even when far away an interrupted cry could be heard as I lament in desperation.

Distance is killing me.

The sun was shining but the rain came pouring when I flew back home to bid my goodbye.

You were smiling. You felt rested. And you look handsome as ever. I smiled back looking at you as I said “your barong Tagalog looks perfect on you”. I blew you a kiss like I used to.

I was ushered away, away from your side.

 

 

 

 

 

Note:  The Barong Tagalog, more commonly known as simply barong (and occasionally called baro), is an embroidered formal shirt and considered the national dress of the Philippines.
In Filipino culture it is a common formal attire,
Written for dVerse, https://dversepoets.com/2019/06/10/prosery-1/, Write a story using maximum 144 words that has to include the following line: “When far away an interrupted cry” taken from the poem acquainted with the night by Robert Frost.

 

She is a Woman

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She is a Woman

In her silence there lies conviction and in her troubles there emerge a voice

In her will brings forth compassion and in her indictment there lies a protest for choice

And as calm as the sea on a midsummer day, know that big waves are coming in June

Written for kate’s Friday fun-waves https://aroused.blog/2019/06/08/friday-fun-waves/

Motherhood

“Each second makes its mark on every single person’s life- comes and then goes, quietly disappearing without fanfare, evaporating into the air like steam from a piping hot Christmas pudding. Enough time leaves us warm; when our time is gone, it leaves us cold. It is time of which we do not have enough; it is time that causes the war within our hearts, and so we must spend it wisely.” (The Gift, Cecilian Ahern)

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Defending the poor and unfortunate

caring with a heart so compassionate

ah! a lawyer that’s what I will be

back then as a little girl with glee.

Broadcasting news on TV

doing it with a mind so steady

Ah! a television anchor I see

back in high school so carefree.

Pouring thoughts on paper

scribbling late at night so dear

ah! a journalist I will

back in college with free will.

Never become a lawyer really

it wasn’t my dream actually

‘Twas a childish thing to wish

no dirt to dish.

Broadcasting wasn’t even for me

‘though I had the chance to be

you see surgery on the neck

making it hard to speak.

A writer I may have always been

creating stories every now and then

putting actions into words

screaming as I scribble with thoughts.

You see there’s something I miss

never imagined I enjoyed it with bliss

caring for little souls as they grow

motherhood is what makes me glow.