As Rain

2016-02-19-14-31-20-260.jpg Yapa Changrai-Landscape

it was a fine day
quiet, still and dumb
cool, frigid and pleasant
time to be aware of the present

stay plugged in
in the socket of today
be ready of unfamiliar current
heading your dreams to paint

in the event
the clouds fall as rain
do remember that they are
dark and heavy to bare

——————-

Advertisements

“I accidentally deleted the published version…” (Bloggers Recognition Award)

I am very sorry to all the followers, and all the nominees of the Bloggers Recognition Award for I accidentally deleted the published version of the post. What remained posted is the draft version which is just a newly started one and  unfinished. I don’t have a backup nor a copy of the published post. I’ll try my very best to rewrite the whole post which is very costly for me in terms of TIME in doing it. Also, I’ll try to remember all the names of the nominees which, unfortunately, I also don’t have a copy. Please bare with me and try to understand the situation I’m in now.  Thank you very much.

———the hut owner———

Lift My Spirit…

lift my spirit to the sky
away from the earth’s collision
of intense mixed-up and confusion
an embattled field of wars
fighting for a righteous reason 
to be one of the unyielding forces
to become the strongest, the mightiest
and powerful feeling of affection
to be far from an immaterial liaison
which is deadly
’cause LOVE hops from one heart to another
and settle to a convincing soul which passionately
wait for the time
defined by time
and to be worthy of the time
spent with you
now, lift my spirit up
to be captivated by an ecstatic
and exultant atmosphere
of being
IN-LOVE
with you!

Clouds

when clouds make the rains
and pour down its tears
do they also feel the sadness
when people don’t start the cheers
 .
why do they change colors
when people are still the same
they don’t mind the course of time
when skies are short of fame
 .
so why do clouds blacken
before they start to rain
i guess their hearts are too heavy
like bad people who don’t change
 .
but why too many of them are white
flying endlessly up there
sometimes they are nowhere
when people ask them to share
 .
i, me,  don’t understand the way
the clouds would always behave
of getting her strength from the sea
from rivers, oceans and lakes
 .
 and why the waters go up
when there’s space between them
neither there’s a stair
to step on them again
 .
if i am the clouds up there
floating high and low
summer’s not the right time
to beg for a rain of snow
–oOo–

The Low Tide

When the sun and the moon are directly aligned with respect to earth, a low tide is expected at a particular time and place. This beach is at its lowest tide and a wide expanse of  beach front is exposed framing an amazing picture of neoteric  genre of a place worthy of being an island paradise. This is Camotes Islands waiting to be rediscovered by people who love to swim in its sparkling waters, bathe under the sun, discover its caves, try its foods, and befriend its gentle people.

I’m here !

My break was quick but pleasurable. I’m still feeling the hangover of the fiesta spell. A post can’t summarize it all but, several schedule of posts could contain the feeling of how it was in the stint of a little pause from online journaling. A little rest from the racking of brains, and utilization of time and effort for every issue posted, made the time off a little more than memorable. Places visited, foods savored, enjoyed and criticized, transportation to revel in, comfortable accommodation, and a budget blown up to smaller pieces and exhausted, gave the break a little less than wisely spent. Nevertheless, the unwinding process from mental pressure and from fragments of physical work were successfully loosened up and unfurled to begin again another bundle of posts for everyone’s consumption.

Hello everyone! I’m here ! I miss you all !

For my first post, here’s a short poem for all to savor the freshly energized brain…

.


I’m Here.

.

declare, the floor is open
with outstretched  arms begging
now this is the true moment
declare our bond that wont get broken
i read yours, you read mine
poetry, essays, picked from the vine
though times come a little bit brine
 filtered ones considered a perfect wine

.

–oOo–