it is with grateful and humble heart that i thank Dagmara K, (editor) and the entire Spillwords Team for this awardđđđ.
“We are proud and excited to recognize The Spillwords Press Socialites of The Year 2022. They support our community, engage with other writers on spillwords.com, celebrate the achievements of others, encourage readers and writers alike to join our global movement via social media and thatâs in addition to their literary contributions. You are true ambassadors and for that we are grateful.” – Spillwords Press
“i’m sorry, i couldn’t hear any heartbeat,” my doctor revealed after just a few minutes of examining my supposed baby bump. my mind went crazy, and my heart beat the fastest and loudest beat ever. i wanted to cry, but there were no tears. i wanted to shout and curse the universe. still, no sounds were coming out. my doctor knew i was on the brink of losing my composure, so she asked me to sit down and gave me a glass of water. “stay calm,” she said.
waiting for you as i held my tears was the most traumatic part of hearing the news. i could see myself heading in directions only God knows where. i wanted to run away, away from the reality that i would never get to hold in my arms the baby i so wanted to have. “you quietly came into our world, silently, and you stayed shortly. but know that you take up the most room in our hearts.” i whispered.
“i’m here for you, and i don’t care if you need to cry all day long i will stay with you,” you said while i was sobbing.
the dark underground parking area was our sole witness to how we grieve at the loss of another angel. we were both inconsolable, as God knows how much we wanted the child. but at least we have each other.
i looked at you, holding on to your composure, and you began to cry. the kind of cry i’ve never witnessed from you my whole life. the type of cry only a father could upon losing a child he never gets to hold.
i live in one of the most affluent subdivisions in the city, where you would rub elbows with the richest of the rich and see eye-to-eye with influential people in politics and even in the entertainment industry. the area is 16 hectares of mixed-use shopping, residential, and leisure development. they say it is where the “ultra-rich and famous” lived.
country-inspired living meets the pleasures of city life is what our place is very much known. it provides refreshing amenities that include a freeform tropical-style leisure pool, landscaped pool deck with lounge area, children’s playground, fitness gym, shower rooms with lockers, and a multipurpose clubhouse.
some luxurious residential condominiums and towers offer generous floor layouts and incomparable views of the city. stories have it that one unit alone is bigger than the typical townhouses sold in the neighboring areas.
it is where pets such as dogs and cats flaunt their most expensive Gucci, Prada, and Louis Vuitton necklaces or pet accessories. you would be in awe at how lovely they look. some even say their pet carriage is even more expensive than that of a price a four-seater Hyundai Accent car.
one morning i was tasked to pick up a document from a local government agency i needed for my Visa application. someone told me that i should take the shortcut route to that agency instead of taking the usual private car ride. why? they say the traffic is terrible around this time, so it’s best to walk.
i took the narrow alley, which was made available for non-residents who work within the area; they need to present their company identification cards to enter; otherwise, they won’t be able to use the access alley.
there’s no other way to say it, but i was about to enter a slum area, to my surprise. there are informal settlers with inadequate housing and squalid, miserable living conditions. it’s overcrowded, with many people crammed into tiny living spaces. i bet the garage and dog house of some houses from where i am is bigger than the tiny homes here. i bet, too, one Louis Vuitton pet necklace is more expensive than a small house in this slum area. and i bet again, one dinner from bill of a fine restaurant from my place is undoubtedly more enormous than the monthly income of the head of the family here. and not to mention that these two areas are walls apart, a ten-minute walk via the shortcut alley.
i saunter towards my destination with a heavy heart and a mind full of life’s lessons and realizations.
“the disparity of life,” i sighed in silence with a drop of tear, looking at a happy little kid in dirty muddy clothing running towards me asking for money for food.Â
“where is your mother?” i asked the kid.
“i don’t know, maybe out somewhere selling sampaguita garlands to rich people like you,” she replied.Â
i wanted to say i am just like her and that there is no difference between rich and poor in the eyes of God or even move further with me, giving my unsolicited advice that she should study hard to be able to live a decent life someday, but i was taken aback when she said, “maybe, we live in a world where no Gods exist.” she said further, “but if there’s God Madam, please tell him to give me some good food for dinner later.”
Written for Reena’s exploration challenge using the phrase “You live in a world where no Gods exist.”
voting for SPILLWORDS PRESS 2022 AWARDS is still open. i would be glad if you could head over the link and vote for my poem “LOVE HAPPENS” as Publication of the Year (Poetic). here is the link to vote: kindly find the link below to vote.
whose car is that? i think i know. its owner is quite sad though. it really is a tale of woe. i watch him frown. i cry hello.
he gives his car a shake, and sobs until the tears make. the only other sounds the break, of distant waves and birds awake.
the car is old, broken and deep, but he has promises to keep, until then he shall not sleep, he lies in bed with ducks that weep.
he rises from his bitter bed, with thoughts of sadness in his head. he idolizes being dead, facing the day with never ending dread.
at first i wasn’t sure if i will dive myself into this prompt. i haven’t used any of these online websites in writing not even with simply rhyming words. i’m not even aware they exist. but, well here i am and i had funđ¤đ¤đ¤
This week David has shared the POW, Denise DeVriesâs great poem âGeneration Gapâ, https://skepticskaddish.com/2023/01/18/w3-prompt-38-weave-written-weekly/
Deniseâs prompt is to write the first line of our poem using a word generator, followed by between 2 and 18 lines of our own â great idea!
I have chosen words or situations for this weekâs prompt from Baba Vangaâs predictions for 2023.
⢠Devastating solar storm
⢠Explosion in a nuclear plant
⢠Human birth in laboratories
⢠Alien attacks
⢠Earth changing its orbit
⢠Bioweapons
You need not use the words verbatim. You can use one or more of the situations as a stimulus for imagination, and base your piece on it.
You may also express general reflections on prophesies, your belief system or reasons to disbelieve predictions. Should we treat such predictions as a warning signal and prepare ahead, or just go ahead with our lives?
Do you think the inevitable will happen, and there is no point in worrying ourselves sick about it?
random dreams upon my broken limbs lingered slowly as it navigated to break free dreams that have been my greatest solace in those days when my world was in a total mess random dreams, that’s all i got in a place full of regrets.
random dreams upon my broken heart yearned deeply as it tried to come out of the pit dreams that have been my bravest allies in those occassions when living means denying random dreams, that’s all i got in my life full of grief.
random dreams upon my vanquished soul longed completely to be honored and fulfilled in those moments when dreaming was impossible random dreams, that’s all i got in my solitude full of chaos.
random dreams upon my forgotten self random dreams, that’s all i got
i walked through the shadows of the trees on a cold, eerie night. i was among the green grass that covered the saturated soil.
i walked miles and miles. i was tired. i was hopeless. i couldn’t find my way out of the woods, out of the darkness.
i searched for the answer to my dark-tempered soul. i longed for the glimmer of light amidst my convenience in the dark.
i was locked up. locked up in the expansive wild vastness of the mountain where i’d been circling around for years but hadn’t found even an inch of chance for freedom. and in my loneliness and solitude, i whispered, “sometimes, it’s better to be locked up than to be broken.”
really? or was it just my hopelessness that made me think my freedom wasn’t as significant as everyone believed it to be? maybe i am better off where i am now. perhaps i am better off with how i am feeling now.
little did i realize that in my loneliness and hopelessness, a seed of hope was growing. in my isolation, freedom is being born. in my despair, love is growing.
love me like the bluest blue ocean loves the sight of a crying seagull from a distance at night “so near yet so far away,” that’s what they are for each other.
love me as i cry my own cry for an unforgiving night without you we don’t need to be the ocean and the seagull to be “so near yet so far away,” ‘cos that’s what we are, my dear.
i’ve said yes a million times on many events on many occassions on many circumstances it felt good seeing the smiles and sighs of relief of people i’ve given my “yes” to but nothing compares to when i said “yes” to you. it was my biggest “yes” ever the kind of “yes” that leads us to forever.
the year is 2022. i said “yes” to many more years with you.
michnavs 