HAPPY FATHER'S DAY

Let me greet you, Papa

If I can create words for others, would it not be trifling if I couldn't grasp some words for my father?

Would I forget his love for me so focused? He spoke like a broken record. He boasted me to his friends. He was, to me, that proud.

With his gentle lion's thoughts, he planned things to be done with his strenuous effort, and he was that profound.

He was strict yet great with silence like a river deep; he wanted me to be well-mannered and decent.

I remember one night when I was out of his sight, he finds for me like missing the brightest moon; I was his life.

It saddened me to see my father witnessing the torments of his daughter. Maybe his brave heart also shed tears.

But what can an ill father do to save her precious daughter? He couldn't strive for my strife, he was helpless, yet still, he kept me with his pleas until the end of his life. 

Now it's Father's moments!

Let me celebrate with you, Papa.

Let me reminisce our memories and talk about things you love to hear from me. 

Didn't you know I am now a Poet? I have so many stories to tell if you were just here. I can read with you my poems about the battles in life that I have won!

You can be proud of me now more than you were before

Look at my eyes! My tears can now be more expressive and meaningful than my pen. 

My ink isn't enough to scribble the joy of my heart. So I have cast away those touches of melancholy caused by the havoc life brought to shape me to be who I am today.

Watch my children from your window in heaven. Hug me tight, as I was able to raise them well. They are my treasure, as I was yours!

Look how splendid the smile you painted on my face is, sweeter and gentle than it was, though my tears blend them!

How fast time flies. But I tried to ride its wings. I have so much lore in life, Papa, and I still wish to learn more to share

How long it had been since you left. I thank God for this glorious chance. This is my very first time writing a Poem for you. 

I know you are smiling there upon reading my heart. I hear you telling me in silence, " I am so proud of you, my daughter, be still."

"Papa, Happy Father's Day."

Copyright@ Helen Sarita

MY SWEET CARESS

My sweet caress

Sincere now and then

Especially to a true friend

I am not lavish with my compliment.

Everyone deserves an honest comment.

I appreciate you when you are right.

Do not hesitate to correct yourself when you are wrong.

For the welfare of a real friend

No matter if you get offended

If I have something to adore about you

If your blessings from above just flow

I do not claim God’s gift is not equally shared.

He just wanted to test if I am sincere.

I am glad of the beautiful things you have

I feel bad when some fight your back.

Ready to give my sweet caress

Especially in times of your depressed

My ultimate care makes you feel better.

My advice is an important matter.

Being honest and being sincere

It makes you proud I am your friend

Copyright©Helen Sarita

DECEPTION

DECEPTION

A stern reminder -- please be aware --

To tread this world with utmost care

For evil comes in different shapes 

And sizes too, don't be naive

Energy vampires are everywhere

And psychopaths, they don't forbear

They'll weigh you down, your spirit vex

They'll suck you dry and drain your strength

Do not revere devout facade

You bear in mind the old adage

By outward looks don't be deceived

Behind the cloak, a wolf's concealed

Do not be swayed by piety

False holiness -- religiosity

If void of truth and reality

It's nothing but hypocrisy

Put value on integrity

You walk the talk, shun fakery

Copyright © Don M. Luman-ag

June 15, 2021

Pines, Oroquieta City, Philippines

POETRY AND ALCHEMY

Poets are like wizards true 

Enigmatic, archaic too 

With their words they can concoct Precious metals, platinum, gold

Transmute a thought into a spell 

The mind provoke, the soul reveal 

So powerful it can dispel 

Clouds of gloom, ignorance and fear

Timeless, ageless, transcending time Ethnicity, culture, race and tribe 

Break the barrier of mother tongue Traverse religion, creed and stand

Pundits of the modern world... 

Of greatest stories ever told... 

© Don M. Luman-ag 

June 14, 2021 

Pines, Oroquieta City, 

Philippines

THE INNER MAN

By Don M. Luman-ag

When darkness engulf you

Close your eyes to the world

And search deep within you

For right there you'll behold

A tiny light in darkness

A faint, flickering glow

But the more you perceive it,

The brighter it grows.

In the midst of cacophony

Shut your ears to the noise 

There'll be deafening silence

But then you'll hear a voice

It's your inner man speaking

It's that small voice in you

You can never go wrong

Hearken ye all along.

When your heart is in trouble

Just exhale and inhale

Give yourself time for grieving

Nothing ever withhold

Ne'er attempt to suppress it

It's but human to cry

It's the first step towards healing

You'll be fine by and by.

When things don't go your way

Keep the faith, don't despair 

Good times are but passing

Yeah, the bad times as well

Just believe you can make it

Not by power nor might

You are tougher than you think

You've got "someone" inside.

Copyright © Don M. Luman-ag

2:45 PM June 12, 2021

Pines, Oroquieta City, Philippines 🇵🇭

🌿TO INFINITY AND BEYOND🌿

By Don M. Luman-ag

Staring at the ember

The dancing flames hypnotic

My consciousness drifted 

To some far away place

A different existence

In a different plane...

It's otherworldly. 

The fire's warmth so comforting

As my metaphysical body

Wandered through another dimension

In time and space

That's ever expanding

I am forever drawn...

Infinite awe and wonder.

Biological life ephemeral

Within it's core eternity

I am made of God matter

A sojourner here down under

I am not of this world

My destiny is yonder...

The heavens is my home.

Copyright © Don M. Luman-ag

June 12, 2021

Pines, Oroquieta City, Philippines

TRAVEL and TRAVAILS

by Estelle Cortes

I travel with gusto,

To places, philosophies and phases,

Inward bound, outward bound,

I sniff and savor Life like a hound.

In some phases

I travail despite the odds,

In some cases I mourn

The opportunities I let pass.

Life indeed is a Teacher,

Love- lost or gain, 

is the lesson

Often belatedly,

Bitterly true.

Life is a journey,

Travel and travails go hand in hand,

When the time comes,

And I will be so weary,

Death is another journey

I will gladly welcome.

~Estelle~

06112021

Life on the Road

LIFE

By Helen Sarita 

Life is not a midnight snore of our deep sleeping.

It is sometimes gasping an air of our breathing.

Life is not as smooth and arranged as we want it to across.

It is sometimes garbled to serve its purpose.

Life is the hardest step that teaches us to dance.

And yet it brings us as gracefully as we become

Life is not all the time winning to acquire wisdom.

It is our defeats that leave us wiser than our triumphs.

Life is meaningless if it is as shallow as the river runs.

Yet, it is as meaningful if it is as deep as the silent ocean.

Life is a flow of tears in a perpetual stumble and fall.

To give us enough lessons to learn and make it more colorful.

Life is worth living if we are brave to face its challenge.

And it is as good if we accept the outstanding design God has given.

Life is not measured in the numbers of breath we take

Preferably in the numbers of time, life left us breathless

Copyright@Helen Sarita

Source:FB/Filipino Poets in Blossoms

Founder/Administrator

BLUE LAGOON, MY DEAR HOME

Photo Credit to Yesu Ben

They say an Artist never sleeps. I did sleep but I got perked reminiscing our hard life in Karomatan where I had the privilege to experience life in the mountains and forests as a child. There I observed everything: the surroundings, the vast open spaces, the corn and rice farms,  spring and river,  the stony narrow roads, the claustrophobic forest but otherwise a paradise to behold, the hardworking farmers with their muscular flexes put to use, the women who helped their husbands on the farms, etc. All of these I can still vividly remember.

Here's my response to Yesu Ben (Ben's) invitation to write about Nature.  Here's my take Ben. Thanks for the inky perk. 

🌺🌴🌲🌱🌳🌴🌲🌱🌳🌺

Yesu Ben asked me to join the wagon, 

So I hopped-in to see the blue lagoon.

The blue appeared to be a forest glade; 

Deck with colours of a thousand solitude. 

The mists were thinning as we approached the glade. 

And cloudy chills became our garment shade. 

Each one of us hovered round the bend 

To warm ourselves with working modes. 

Trees were mighty tall, of sturdy frames 

Been there years long before I was born.

The grandfather's ancestry got them hold;

The habitat of hundred thousands manifold:

Of trees, of vegetations and everything wild;

Of birds and fowls, of animals that freely roam;

Of critters and crawlers that make their home;

Exotic flowers unique in their beauty surprised us all! 

This forest lagoon to me is home;

A paradise that my heart dreamed of; 

A longing for my childhood where I used to roam;

Once in my life was my dear home. 

©Leah C. Dancel

Copyright©2021

Pho-etry 3

June 8, 2021

SH Australia

RAINING

Photo credit 

to 

Crispina Vedra-Diego

(Author)

Simple thoughts this morning while it is

          RAINING

The sight of the birds flying to and fro

Makes me wonder where they will go

As the rain starts dropping lightly

Watching more falls come heavily.

Gazing at the skies no shades of blue

Keeping watch if the sun would show

No sign of rays not one

 not two

Raining still as the winds blow.

Raindrops keep falling on the ground

Plants in the garden are delighted I found

The leaves are greener freshness abound

Display of happy,colorful flowers all around.

Time of reflection is food for the soul

The weary heart is longing to be whole

Sing a song of praise to God above

With all thanksgiving for His greatest love.

The rain stopped and the skies turned blue

Birds are tweeting,flying 

to and fro

On a clear daylight,I'm waiting for You

Speak softly Lord,Your promises are true.

5-8-21docris

Source: FB/Filipino Poets in Blossoms

PIE

"Pies are very filling pastry treat and popular among the rich and not the rich. You're not an Ozzie if you don't love hot, crusty and scrumptious Pies. Serve it with ketchup or tomato sauce. Ideal for quick lunch,  light dinner or as snacks. Here's a poem to try." ~Leah C. Dancel, June 8, 2021

~•✿•~ ~•✿•~

PIE

A humble pie 

Good to satisfy 

A rumbling tummy 

With Grandma's pie. 

Knead the dough 

Let it rise through 

A crunchy pastry 

Bake for me and you. 

Food for the poor.

Food for mediocre. 

The rich love them more 

Just like you and me. 

There's a plain pie

And a shepherd pie 

Beef and mushroom pies 

You name them all. 

Grandma's homemade pies 

Are the best to vie 

Than those that you buy 

Taste nothing, but pies.

A humble pie 

Delicious pie 

Fill the rumbling tum-

Till you're satisfied. 

©Leah C. Dancel 

Pho-etry 4

SH Australia 

June 8, 2021

WINTER BITES

 

Waiting for long...

When it's cold outside 

Rain is coming 

Will I drench in vain?

Dressed up like a rag doll 

Bracing for the cold 

Waiting long in the gazebo 

Please people don't take so long.

Winter sets comfortably 

Gone are the summer woes 

Of fires and niggling heat in throes 

Winter season  bites with  frosts. 

@Leah C. Dancel

SHNSW 

Pho-etry 1

Australia 

June 3, 2021

RUN AWAY LITTLE GIRL

Run away little girl 

 This world is yours 

 Enjoy your space 

 Love your freedom 

The empty space has no limit 

 It's all yours to explore 

 Nature is generous 

It doesn't hold you back 

 Be it a small flower in the lea 

 Or a pebble in the creek 

 Be it a shell by the shore 

Or a dry leaf on the ground 

 Be it a bird sitting on a tree 

 Or a dog barking to say hello 

Be it a snail that walks beside 

Or a butterfly that flutters by. 

Run away little girl 

 Let your tiny feet flee 

 Towards the tree 

And Hide and Seek, you play 

Towards the hill 

 And slide down below with glee 

 To the top and reach the sky 

To see the view 

 And smell the air 

Towards the river 

 Where rocks are strong and tall 

 Be bold, jump, skip and roll 

 Run, run away little girl 

 No one can stop you 

 Have endless fun 

Let adventure begins. 

 @Leah C. Dancel 

June 7, 2021 

Pho-etry 2

 Australia

Photo  and Title Concept Credited to John Paul Chan 

May 1, 2021

FLIGHT

by rado gatchalian 

we fly to a space where we think 

we can have everything; 

we dream so high, 

we can no longer carry our wings 

as we reach the treasures 

we dearly adore: 

we have exhausted 

the last breath of joy  

there are no permanent things,

life we keep today will be surrendered tomorrow, 

we fly now to all good trees, tomorrow - we shall rest 

in a nest covered with grasses, 

dried and dead 

 just fly 

from one leaf to another. 

 Source: FB/12 May 2014

PEARL OF THE ORIENT SEAS

By Rado Gatchalian 

For what reasons are we beholden 

To escape Life’s noisy tirade? 

We hibernate in a secluded place 

Where only You and Silence 

Give glory to sunrise and sunset. 

We are too strong not to fail — 

Yet, here is a danger: 

We fall piece by piece 

Without a trace. 

For whatever reason: we still wave to the seas 

Not because it calls for hope, 

Nor it gives us the courage to endure. The only reason: Under our skin, beneath the heartbeat, 

There is a gem more precious than everything: 

The Pearl of the Orient Seas we adore — 

The reason why we exist 

And live like a starfish walking on earth. Wherever we are - and beyond time - 

We pray with one voice: 

“God bless the Philippines!”

THE PRODIGAL SERVANT

By Raed Braun 

My master, will you forgive me for my sins?

Shall you punish me because I am weak?

Does it matter if I am lost and never to be found?

Where shall I go when all the paths are like nowhere?

But trust me: I need to be free.

Will you allow me to unchain this contract between you and me?

Behold, I shall run away from a life of misery.

Shall I keep running away?

There is no stopping.

But there is also no turning back.

Why does the world judge me for what I have done

And not for how I can redeem myself like a child reborn?

I do not believe that my lord punishes.

I do not want to accept that my master 

Will banish me to an eternal fire.

I believe in love. And a justice based on compassion.

Like stars: how can I deny its beauty?

How can I embrace a master

Who can sit on a throne while watching his servants

To live, and not die, in eternal punishment?

To be human is to love.

To be divine is to love. Unconditionally.

To love is to live.

To live is to love freely.

To be free is to seek beauty.

So how can I deny its beauty?

I am lost and my master is waiting for my return.

This is beautiful. 

True beauty.

Source : Rado Gatchalian

THE TRAVELLER'S CREED

By Rado Gatchalian 

i'm leaving the days of my past for the future I do not hold 

i'm leaving my children in favour of uncertain dreams and hope; 

all my pride I kept it for a while: though before I was the master 

of my slaves, 

now, i am a slave of many masters - unknown and sometimes mad; 

as i carry the woods towards the unseen forest and high mountains 

i lift my soul with prayers and footprints of valour; 

like many dreamers, i travel with one bag 

of strong will 

and a pack of hope to a land i do not know, 

like all travellers, i wish to spend my days 

gathering pebbles from 

various spots 

and keeping it tough inside my pockets of memories, 

like all searchers, i will kiss the moon and clouds 

and sing a song only fairies can understand, 

as i wander from one point to another 

i see a bit of light and a bit of shadow - 

like all journey there is no stopover on the road 

but only a signpost which says: "Slow Down."

BACK TO LIFE

By Leah C. Dancel 

When dead leaves of the trees fly down to the ground 

It's where my heart was lost but found 

I didn't seem to mind laying down 

To cover the ground to which my feet tread on. 

 

My soul has found a place to rest, at least for awhile. 

At springtime they shall fly back to the sky; 

Feeling recharged, the veins  invigorated; 

Leaves of the trees will come alive.

@Leah C. Dancel 

Poetic Comment at Awesome Australia May 29, 2021 

Copyright@2021 

Note : Inspired by the photographs of Nguyen Ngoc Hiep 

🍁🍁🍁🍁🍁🍁🍁 

Photo: Macquarie University 

Ryde NSW

Date photo taken: May 26, 2021

Versified Comment 

May 29, 2021

"Life gets born in April, becomes a child in May, then an adult in June, July will see him realize himself, but in August he will die, and in September, shall be remembered." ~Yesu Ben 

Me replied: The seasons indeed! You got them right for Down Under except I don't want to die on my birthmonth. 

TO COMMUNE WITH THE DIVINE

If he could only give words to this life he has lived,

It would fill up, span, the annals of

     human history,

For the journeys he has taken

      and lived

They speak of a thousand lives

      and not just the man he is 

      today.

But his is not the freedom to boast

Of the travels, the roads he’s walked  from east to west

In his grasp, there’s only the right 

      to choose

To live a man, or die, divine! 

So many crossroads in a life so

      complex, so true

As he looks at the water, there, 

       is his reflection

How come it does not show

The battle scars, the wounds, the

       pains of a thousand swords? 

He raises his eyes heavenwards

Eyes that question what his lives

       have been all about

Answers won’t come; they never 

       did.

But he knows. He knows.

His is the burden no one else may 

        carry

It is no one else’s. Only his to own.

In the midst of the waters that is life and the world

He is forever alone. His pains reach

        eternity. 

To live a man, to die divine, 

Much is the price; only he can 

        understand.

Up in the sky, a flock of birds fly on

Someday, when his time has 

         come... he too, will be up 

         there. 

At dawn, he will fly on.

Source: FB/Filipino Poets in Blossoms 

May 27, 2021

THE BOOK OF DREAMS

By Rado Gatchalian

Your thoughts are sleeping while

Everyone is awake;

If you are dreaming and wanting to smile

Sit on a rock and wait.

Do not worry if the mountain is so high

You fly not because of your wings

But because the wind is your bosom friend.

When you illuminate in the dark

Yet you still long for peace:

Open your eyes and know who you are.

When everything is lost and not found

Remember where you nourished your childhood –

In your sweet dreams when everyone was asleep.

A LIFE OF BLISS

By Hedda Tady 

If I were to live a life tucked away somewhere in these mountains, cocooned in the quiet that was life years past, would that be bliss? Would that spell happiness that’s forever? 

If I were to live in some posh villa somewhere grand, would that be freedom from the regular cares of this world, not needing to care about the basics to survive? 

Would I ever know? 

Would you? 

Do we ever get to have the luxury of knowing well ahead what truly is a life of  bliss? 

And isn’t it always, that we can only come to comprehend it all when we get there, 

when we fill up the shoes of that someone we thought we would like to be? 

Only to find out, realize, that such an existence may not be what we truly wanted, needed, thought it was going to be. 

Ahhh, man.... woman.... creatures of this earth, forever wanting what lies beyond the bend, whatever it is that’s hidden to the eye, elusive to one’s touch. 

Perhaps, the whole idea is - as it has always been told to us from the ancient sages to the most modern of mystics - that to have peace, we must savor life as it unfolds each day, to open our eyes to the beauty that’s laid down before us each morning. They are always there, hiding in plain daylight. But that it would take some investment in mindfulness and that we must learn to cultivate a spirit that’s excited to explore and discover, to see truth, beauty, bliss for what they are. 

And only then, will the secrets of the universe reveal themselves to our eyes - when we become quiet and simple of the mind, grateful in hearts, and most of all, welcoming to receive the secrets to life deep within our souls.

Source: Melancholic Revetie

WHY SHOULD I EVER BE SAD?

By Parker J. Palmer 

Why should I ever be sad,

knowing the aspens are 

always here dancing along 

this trail, slim as willowy 

girls, swinging their arms,

tossing their hair, swaying 

their hips in rhythm with 

the mountain wind? Above 

the aspens, intensified sky, 

a dream of blue seen only as 

cities fade from view. Below 

them a rocky slope covered 

with clotted clumps of leaves 

and fallen, rotted branches, 

laying down a love bed where 

Indian Paintbrush and white 

violets grow amid a flourish 

of green. All of the tumbled 

boulders and rocks have found 

their angle of perfect repose,

so why should I ever be sad? 

All of this waits for me when 

at last I stumble and fall,

waits for me to join in this 

dance with all that turns and 

whirls - a dance done to a

silent music of our dappled,

singing,  swaying world. 

A BUTTERFLY WITH PURPLE WINGS

(For Emily Dickinson)

By Rado Gatchalian

15 May 2021. 135th death anniversary of Emily

Let me not doubt your love —

Or let me openly love you in the air —

How shall I protect you against the Mad?

I will keep all your words in my heart.

As Time elopes with the sudden anguish of Wind —

Do not worry but — Fly — continue to Fly —

Until every child and soul quietly read and listen —

And ready to let you go, be free, and I say Goodbye.

BLACK HOLE

By Melany Amante Mabao Maguindanao 

Blank massive darkness hovers.... 

Like a blanket in an infinite universe. Boundless horizon as far as the eyes can see, A canopy that shields us from the truths of reality. 

I looked for the holes in this vast filter to see... 

What lies beyond the covering that limits me? 

Heartbeat after heartbeat galloping, 

Far beyond...a black hole is glowing. 

At the edge of time and space, 

Where we are all headed to singularity... That supermassive black hole awaits us, at the center of the Milky Way. 

Far beyond this life's short-term occupancy, 

A final spectacular destination to stay.

Contemplating the story of the universe... 

We shrink into trivial anonymity. Ignoring our ephemeral corporality... 

A deprivation of a rare opportunity.

 

Source: FB/May 1, 2019

HYMN TO STOIC BEAUTY

(For Percy Bysshe Shelley) 

By Rado Gatchalian 

You wake up with everyday’s extremes of not knowing and fully well; 

then when a broad daylight 

pierces your broken heart —

you look afar like a blind foe, 

you quit, and stop, and think, 

and listen to a music dear to a weeping child. 

When the past is a memory of shattered pieces: 

you dream for stars that shine in the shadow, 

but where shall you keep such glory when all hopes that nourish your soul become a dust hiding quietly in the dark? 

As you declare triumph over death: remain where you hide — 

where no souls can hear your voice, 

not even the anguish of your saddest poems, 

but when you arise after the third day and night, 

whisper the truth to all listening ears and tell them: “Be not afraid...” 

Now that you rebel against the tyranny of fear, 

revolt because right is always right, 

and love can never be opposed by silence; 

if only you come near to every dying poor 

clasp their arms and let them feel the warmth of a warrior whose only prayer is a hope that tomorrow everyone becomes free. 

As death comes nearer to a young poet, not everything in you shall die, 

but when you are forgotten 

do not pity nor weep endlessly, 

among the stars in the sky 

you glimmer beneath the clouds awaiting the twilight of joy, 

and you wrap your body among the gods whose desire is solely to celebrate beauty. 

Source: FB/The FILOsopher