Heaven (Sealed and Delivered)

Heaven (Sealed and Delivered)

I.

heaven,
they say is peace
tonight your kiss;
i tasted, and i thought

what would i need to do
to keep your kiss forever?

II.

heaven
they say is joy
tonight your embrace;
i felt, and i wondered

how much longer
can i hold you in my arms?

III.

heaven
they say is utopia
tonight your love;
i welcomed, and i pondered

how much would it cost
to have your love always?

IV.

tonight
i write this letter
to you my love;
sealed, and i marveled

will heaven hear my plea
to have you ’till eternity?

For Reena’s

Bleeding Pen

Bleeding Pen

my pen bleeds
of sadness and heartaches;
of pains and griefs,
of troubles and sorrows,
’till when?
i don’t know,
maybe until the sadness ends,
or the heartaches cease,
(do they?)
maybe when the pain is over
or grief is long gone,
(will they?)
for now,
i will let it bleed
let it flow,
don’t worry it will be over
maybe not soon
but it will;
and when it happens know,
that you will become, nothing but
a recorded soliloquy of a once bleeding pen.

Pain

Pain

pain is the initial cut of the scalpel
upon an open surgery,
dissecting through the deepest part of my body
’till the anesthesia,
takes in full control bringing me to a complete sleep –
pain, is gone;
i knew pain that way –
but, absolute pain doesn’t feel like that at all,
not even close,
it feels like a million initial cuts of millions of scalpels upon an open surgery,
with the anesthesia completely numbing your mind, but not your body;
and you slowly agonize as each layer of your skin is being lacerated –
your mind wonders; your soul afloats,
your body wishes for a slow motion movement,
hoping that at some point,
you’d be completely free from the pain-
but, lo and behold, no!
as the clock ticks faster, the pain gets more excruciating,
with every cut a multi layered wound is opened,
feeling the pain against the pain – agonizing upon the thought,
that i only have two options left before i lost control of my sanity – 
one, i’d signal a stop
two, i’d endure the pain;
i chose the latter –
i’d hold on to my pain no matter what,
‘cos for now that’s the only connection i have with you.

pain is the wound i try to heal with bandages
and medications; or so i thought.

For Reena’s Exploration Challenge

Missing Piece

Missing Piece

the picturesque city
that once lured my youth is now empty and dull,
the vibrant university belt
that once enticed my innocence is now idle and dreary,
the chaotic intersection
that once charmed my imagination is now bare and somber,
for it has one missing piece;
you.

the melodious hyms of love
that once made me giggle is now
jarring and harsh,
the joyous rhythm of poetic rhymes
that once made me dream is now
gloomy and sad,
the cheerful verses
that once made me chuckle is now
depressing and sad,
for it has one missing piece;
you.

the sweetness and bitterness
of coffee that once perked up my mood is now bland and flat,
the delicious taste of croissant
that once made me indulge with gusto
is now unpleasant and horrible,
the flavorful and delectable foods
that once tempted my fussy taste
is now stale and boring,
for it has one missing piece;
you.

everything just turned sad and blue,
everything just turned stale and gray,
everything just turned muted and faded,
even this poem has lost its heart and soul;
without you.

For Eugi’s Prompt

There Ain’t Snowflakes

There Ain’t Snowflakes

there’s no room for winter in the tropics
yet i’m freezing,
feels like temperature is cold enough for snowflakes to fall
but there ain’t snowflakes though, as summer’s heat is just around the corner-
i’m still cold as ever; the heat is not offering a single comfort,
nothing, i still can’t believe i lost you
over rainbows and butterflies;
in my mid-summer’s night dream,
the moon’s amazing grace do me no real favor,
i’m still feeling cold, and i don’t know how to let go-
of the wanting,
of the longing,
for a new season to come; maybe spring or autumn,
i could welcome –
winter, spring, summer, or fall;
i don’t give a damn,
just let me make it through all the seasons of my life,
‘cos for now,
it’s still getting colder,
and here i am ’bout to whisper the coldest, saddest phrase; and
it has your name in it,
“i miss you”.

Was That Really Me?

Was That Really Me?

it’s the smile; or maybe not, that i long for, a ray of sunshine
that crosses beaming when you’re around-
the laughter, that feels like a calming melody, my heart’s balm-
soothes my restless soul,
or maybe it isn’t;
‘cos more than that, i miss my laughter when i am with you.

it’s the chitter-chatter; or maybe not, that i yearn for, a lively discussion
that perks up my mood,
breaking the tension when you’re around-
the nonsensical matters, that feels like a loving conversation,
my mind’s sanctuary-
tampers my spirit,
or maybe it isn’t;
‘cos more than that, i miss myself talking non-stop when i am with you.

it’s the cuddling; or maybe not, that
i crave for,
a sense of security
that makes loving affectionately beautiful when you’re around –
the gentle fondle,
my body’s silent sanctuary-
eases my being,
or maybe it isn’t;
‘cos more than that, i miss myself snuggling when i am with you.

i miss you
but more than that i miss myself
when i am with you.

For Reena’s Exploration Challenge

Pain- An Elfchen

Pain – An Elfchen

pain
hurts deeply
thrives from broken
unhealed past wounds
traumatized.

pain
silver lining
amidst shattered dreams
healing slowly and gradually
hope.

Sadje’s prompt guidelines

• Write an ‘elfchen’ poem;

• Extra challenge: write a second elfchen poem, which opposes the first one.

Elfchen poetic form

An elevenie(German: elfchen) is a short poem with a given pattern. It contains eleven words which are arranged in a specified order over five rows. Each row has a requirement that can vary.

Almost

Almost

the blurry skyline upon this
mid- summer afternoon
reminds me of the time when you were mine, almost-
but never really was close to
being almost,
for it was like wishing upon a star; not knowing which star to wish upon –
but i did, wish upon a star;
and i don’t know if i was lost somewhere in the middle of my wishful thinking,
or lost upon the constellation
of stars, that i have forgotten what we had was just almost.

and so upon this blurry mid – summer afternoon skyline;
i once again wish, from my finger tip to yours;
my tangled hair you would fix,
my teardrop you would kiss,
my flaw you would erase,
and
my love and affection you would embrace,
even for a moment, with almost,
with maybe, with perhaps,
or with possibly.

i wish upon a star on this blurry
mid-summer afternoon; you would be mine, almost.

That Firewoman

“That Firewoman”, up on Spillwords NYC

i wish i could be, that firewoman i saw, leaving home every day
(most often she is never home)
heaven knows how many Christmases she missed,
new years she welcomed alone,
birthdays she celebrated breaking walls,
to prevent and suppress fires; so lives would be salvaged,
properties would be preserved; putting her life even in danger.

Read full poem on

https://spillwords.com/that-firewoman/

When you are there please don’t forget to click the ❤️ button for me..i would also love to hear your thoughts.

Thank you so much Dagmara and to the entire Spillwords team. 

Spillwords.com presents: That Firewoman, poetry written by Michelle Ayon Navajas, Philippine-born, currently residing in Malaysia.

Source: That Firewoman

Heavy

Heavy

i need a poem that’s heavy on consonance;
i don’t know if this counts ‘cos my heart’s heavy in pain, deeply strained
it’s bleeding, oozing in agony,
massively strangled with branched chain.

i need a poem that’s heavy on assonance;
i don’t know if this counts ‘cos my soul’s losing control,
it’s true i do love you; damn that just won’t do, the ache just won’t go.

consonance or no consonance,
assonance or no assonance,
heavy on both;
heavy on both, my heart, my soul
wanting to burst,
it’s heavier, heavier each time,
it has to break open;

crack open, the soreness
let the agony be prickled out
and split
maybe then, maybe then the hurt
won’t be heavier, or be heaviest.

explode.

detonate.

ignite.

then let it burn.

II. The prompt guidelines

• Write a poem of at least six lines that’s heavy on consonance, assonance, or both;

• Consonance: repetition of identical consonant sounds;

• Assonance: repetition of similar vowel sounds.