Butuan City, Philippines – Photo Tour, Tourism : Week 03, Day 19

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Blood Promontory

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To commemorate the first mass on Easter Sunday, being claimed also by Limasawa, a tall and large cross was erected near the mouth of the 350-kilometer Agusan river. Butuan was thriving economically before the Spaniards came in 1521.

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–oOo–

visit; https://thehutownerblog.wordpress.com/2015/03/22/sto-nino-shrine-butuan-city-philippines-week-03-day-01-photo-tour-tourism/

“Sweat” – A Pastoral Poem – NaPoWriMo 2015, Day 22

The view from the restaurant of Villa Igang Resort...
drips of sweat can’t soak the field
where flakes of soil remained upturned
the blade of the plow turned to shield
from stones underneath the sun has scorned
.
the man has burned his skin to dark
like the earth that receives the rays of gold
sweat not enough from one man to start
to grow a single blade of grass in cold
.
unfriendly skies, unmindful clouds
waters of oceans, seas, and lakes
their dreams have withered, gave in a drought
wheat, rice and corn, their land have caked…
.
–oOo–

“Temper” , an Erasure Poem – NaPoWriMo 2015, Day 21

I am re-titling this recycled piece to “Temper” from a recipe I stumbled upon from a Food Magazine. Here it goes :

.

 Marinate
Do not stir
Stand in heat
Simmer until done
Take out
.
Add tender to the touch
Low heat begins to shed some fat
From fire, take out
Serve
.

with magazine text 010

 

with blocked out 003

–oOo–

“She” – NaPoWriMo 2015, Day 20

7952590-portrait-of-a-young-couple-with-a-dog.

she always greets me at the gate
even when i arrive a little late
at most, she’s there at the sofa
half asleep, performing the yoga
.
she’s always there when i eat
any meal, she craves for meat
but if given snacks of any kind
she’ll thank and look at me in the eye
.
when the house is filling so empty
the doors are close, there’s nobody
she’ll sit on my lap with her tongue ready
to kiss my palms begging to be sweaty
.
so i’ll stand and start the needed reaction
i’ll cuddle and rub her body in any direction
sometimes with what i do she’s not satisfied
i’ll just kiss and embrace my darling so tight
.
until her sleepy eyes dive to the center of dreams
while her legs break apart without any screams
in the morning she wakes ahead of me
“bark,bark,”  good morning oh, my doggie, Lasie…

–oOo–

“How To Grow Wings And Fly Half Bodied” , Mythical, Fiction – NaPoWriMo 2015, Day 18

Vampire_swarm
His spaceship to Moon is now  in stratosphere
adrift between the earth and sun
busy blogging with Men on earth
and some People called Martian
.
Getting caught with defective wiring problems technical
messages and information get frozen, not a signal
sending some spectacle notices to Heaven
to deliver some A-1 technicians
.
He calls some beautiful Angels of seven
 but comes able bodied astronaut musicians
then comes a ship of operatic singers
with a strength of 300 brave Spartans…
.
He requests not a song from the orchestra
but to fix his ship out of eminent danger
so he sends them back to where they come from
promises never to make the Space into a slum
.
So he calls NASA with his Samsung Galaxy V
he’s stranded in space requesting somebody to his rescue
soon American astronauts  arrive
but return to earth, nothing is repaired, can he survive?
.
Then comes to his mind to call the Cosmonauts of Russia
same thing happens, so he calls up India
they have the cheapest space program the whole of Asia
they come back to earth, nothing is fixed,
now, he’s in panic and thinking
of committing euthanasia
.
No, his conscience says so
there’s still a solution that he can do
he’s calling and seeking help from the Philippines
people there can assist, he has more than a dozen friends
.
Anytime, anywhere stranded, they can go where he is
his friends are fast, reliable, they will never miss
he’s their leader, back in college days, as he reminisces
How To Grow Wings And Fly Half Bodied“, was their thesis
.
And soon there comes a swarm of flying human halves
with all their might they push and carry the ship like bats
take his ship to earth safe and sound, repairs is carried out
he makes a sigh, “what are friends are for” and shouts
.
At the losing end, if technology’s intent and function
are waywardly used
in this fiction,
this story is for fun and to get amused  …
–oOo–

social media – NaPoWriMo 2015, Day 17

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good morning, good afternoon and evening
i should be all smiles today but it is a screaming
my FB posts a genocide of ISIS are committing
Yazidi minority of Iraq were tortured, raped, enslaved
UN had found evidences about the string of killings
.
using children as soldiers by the extremists
kidnapping women and children  raped by these racists
children young as eight years old fell prey to these rapists
“who are they, what are they, where did they come from
why turn to these innocent people who are helpless to escape and run”
.
Almond jelly with fruit cocktail recipe
made me crave for fruit salad and biscuits of toffee
for breakfast, lunch and dinner for the family
pork, beef, and chicken menus are there you see
be a chef, a cook, a pastry baker or bartender  for free
.
for the traveler who loves to hop from place to place
attractions for tourists, lovely paradise they come to chase
waterfalls,white sand beaches, and the wooded forests
asks the natives of the place they’ll tell where, they are honest
when you see the spot, you’ll agree, they are the best
.
high school, college, or town mates of forgotten times
find them on Facebook, make a call and reserve to dine
women’s names have change, and their physical looks
male classmates have remained and looks aren’t off the hook
body bulges are apparently bare and some are for the books
.
everyday i get a dose of stress makers on FB
the same issues of current events
different opinions posted
the same amount of stress i get
so, i just turn to my dot com blog on wordpress
.
–oOo–

“ITSELF” – NaPoWriMo 2015, Day 15

 And now for our prompt (optional, as always). Today, I challenge you to write a poem that addresses itself or some aspect of its self (i.e. “Dear Poem,” or “what are my quatrains up to?”; “Couplet, come with me . . .”) This might seem a little meta at first, or even kind of cheesy. But it can be a great way of interrogating (or at least, asking polite questions) of your own writing process and the motivations you have for writing, and the motivations you ascribe to your readers.

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.

difficult this seems, have to start somewhere
in ancient Greece, ancient  Rome, or anywhere 
published numerous works in couplet and quatrain
poetic traditions didn’t get lost down the drain 
am leading  a stanza of four rhyming lines
in Europe’s Dark Ages, popular during those times
existed in the Middle East various forms of these kinds
these poetry forms rang some bells and chimes
consists of twelve possible schemes that rhyme
AAAA, ABAB, it doesn’t matter, it’s fine
i’m using AABB scheme of word rhyming
one traditional and common in poem writing
as this becomes favorite of many world poets in line
its popularity will swell beyond its border and time.

“Wring My Ear” – NaPoWriMo, Day 14

And now for our optional prompt! Today, I challenge you to write a poem that takes the form of a dialogue. Your conversant could be real people, or be personifications, as in Andrew Marvell’s A Dialogue Between the Soul and the Body, or Yeats’ A Dialogue of Self and Soul. Like Marvell, and Yeats, you could alternate stanzas between your two speakers, or perhaps you could give them alternating lines. Your speakers could be personifications, like those in Marvell and Yeats’ poems, or they could be two real people. Hopefully, this prompt will give you a chance to represent different points of view in the same poem, or possibly to create a dramatic sense of movement and tension within the poem.


I think I have written a similar one before –  https://thehutownerblog.wordpress.com/2015/03/24/my-other-soul-the-bad-wandering/
Here’s a new one. . .

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Myself.
“Not feeling you inside me, please wring my ear
something not absurd, go on, try a whisper
so your words could be felt by my blood”
.
“Throw some thoughts into my imagination
make me quiver, drive a sensation
you’re “the other one” of a body or just a flower bud”
.
“Trick me, lift this body and soar the universe
if not,… i just saw a fool on this hill
riding the epitome of  hypocrite”
.
Soul.
“Why should i, even Jesus did  not give in
to be hooked by Satan’s deceptive mouth
and to be slain by his whipping tongue”
.
“Throwing words unto you will never bite
the brain that’s in your head will always fight
the truth about “the other one” that’ll  depart”
.
“The fool will someday rule your world
for he believes the truth about a soul
will traverse from a cold body into heaven or hell”
.
Myself.
“Beliefs of mankind is their own choice
some cling to the premise seeing is believing
if you’re my soul, let me, it’s my freedom”
.
“I own my thoughts but your  mind isn’t mine
what to think and to believe still, i have to catch
asking some whispers and wrings, key to believing”
.
Soul.
“You stupid, bald-headed thick twin
actions of yours is my fatal destination
purgatory, hell or heaven, your moves, my afterlife”
 .
“Options, preferences, varieties of decisions
surrendering this unfruitful discussion
 a sinner or saint, your wish is my command”
–oOo–