To Begin

the dawn breaks the gloom
the talk comes to animation
the spirit approaches to bloom
while eyes are closed
the mind scribbles notes
to be clothed in costume

and in a little while
the aurora rushes in the early morn
wooden chair and table on the watch
black and white colors on a batch
become a manuscript
of golden words from a shoestring catch




Sketch of Life


the day’s mantle of graphic scenes
drapes down the head of life
the wind in different directions blow
the dust rolls to thicken as virgin snow

enter the sphere of unforeseen emotions
feel the dagger’s wound as it rips the skin of hope
revel in the pleasure of a triumphant win over a failure
let the mind and heart impress your only soul







image: Free Photo Library 


in the dawn of our lives
expecting a bright lovely sunrise 
unexpectedly a disturbance of day
comes to darken the way

harsh wind blows so hard
and clouds fly so dark
lightning  begins to spark 
and strike a burning mark

water of the sky heavily pours 
and sips inside closed doors
rises and tries to ready itself
and floods the way with cries

tears of hate and pains of hurt
bloodied wounds and stains of dirt
all will be talking inside your heart
when a survival is going  to start 

wishing the sun would not set
and turn the dark to day
lives have their twists and turns
the fire has some waste to burn…




a glimpse of you
unearthing me
when the whisper
came to be
in the loosened air
encompassing the calls
of agitated silence…
the name that flew
in the wide atmosphere
brought a happy lullaby
in the hearts and ears
of the lives that listened
to its muted echoes


it was our hearts
that roared out
the sounds of love
and not our whispers


the tones were high
only to be caught
at their lowest ebb
the sea’s feeble waves
forcefully beat
the sands of the silent shore…
an ignition of war
of reassuring minds
so soothing to be heard
 brought back henceforth
memories of painful past 


Loving Heart

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Image credit: Pilar Allen

now  you’re singing
the song of love
your heart’s beating
you are certain of


how great it is
feeling the happiness
braving the storm
despising emptiness


sadness turns to laughter
cold mornings become warm
questions need no answers
loving heart takes any norm


Honest and Innocent


image credit:

hiding behind words
writing lethal poison
injecting venomous lines
into the veins of  honest innocent stanzas


suspicion dictated
the heart was wounded
cut and disfigured
after harmless letters reached a guilty one


it was just for fun
written only to rhyme
but the sense was there
  to be judged by time


Don’t Block The Driveway

it’s my kingdom
the border has been identified
but the defined mark has been


it is mine
the front part of my home
it is  my driveway
i want to draw a line


i was angered
by my neighbor’s idiotic act
parking his second-hand car
at my gate’s mouth, i wanted war


so i put a sign
“Don’t block the driveway
This is the fault line
If you park here, it’s not fine”



no matter how much we try
hiding the feeling of resentment
suspicious of being dethroned
fearful to be left behind

those who love are often jealous
watchful in the protection
possessive of a heart
we love


 our emotions show
both our actions and reactions
efforts that we exert
the truthfulness of Love
intolerant of unfaithfulness
as we walk the path that we trod

we come to know the Lord
is a jealous God



It Doesn’t Matter


image credit: GINGER

she laughs when i cry
never she wipes away my tears
she cries when i giggle
never she yells some cheers

why is she like this
always reacts the opposite
sometimes i suspect her as a fool
who doesn’t know the golden rule
whoever is this woman

who strayed away from the caravan
to others she’s the coolest insane
it doesn’t matter, i love her just the same


You are My Reverie


image credit : Patrizia Tilly –

peeping through obscurity
when the youthfulness of day advances
and the worldly noise slowly subsides
you become a sweet colored reverie
floating inside my consciousness
framing my  extra-ordinary cosmos dream


dusting the tinsel dust away
and clear the fancy stars at bay
glittering colors of blue and gray
keep staring at me through halfway




As I Close My Eyes


Image credit: Sylvain Claire Photography   (sunrise)

as i close my eyes
i leave the worries of the day
the fears of the night
and the confusions of dawn

solutions are there to find
where the sun’s light
has no obstructions on its way
and the perfect picture can be drawn

sometimes the night in reverse
becomes the lighted day
it is in the dark
one can find the needle under the hay


Weekly Photo Challenge – Ambience: Bicycle Traffic

The bicycle, or bike, is the most popular means of transportation in the world. This two-wheeled, human-powered and pedal-driven machine has provided effects on society’s culture and some methods in industrial manufacturing. In Japan, bikes are widely used by young and old of all genders and social status. They are best suited for running errands and making short trips in the city and rural areas. *Japanese bike riders are treated the same way as vehicles under Japanese Road Traffic Laws.




Most bikes are equipped with a basket and rack and an extra seat if you’re driving with a child.


In Osaka City, bikes are very common even in crowded city streets. When offices take their closing hours, bikes crowd the sidewalks and together with the human traffic they cross the streets with the pedestrians. Some buildings are provided with bicycle parking spaces. During office hours, sidewalks seem to be a lonely place to walk on.


Japan is a safe city and I really like to return for the snowfall and the cherry blossoms.

*some info from wiki*





Photo credit: Blurred Vision

even eyes burned up its use
images unseen but still heard
the sight of you still refuse
changing figures aren’t blurred

absence  doesn’t make me blind
but it helps me clearly see
your heart and mine do bind
as one of you and me





at this stretch of the moment
at this juncture of uncertainty
the reasons are there to see 
why these scenes are meant to be

the separation of souls from the bodies
where bullets owed their breaths
unclear how reasons do the copies
multiplying the smell of wreaths

public judgment are circulating
motives are bound to lie
some loss of lives  are worth debating
that left others to die …



Weekly Photo Challenge: Nostalgia/Nature

My fond memories of these places  keep me long for home. I have moments of sentimental yearning for the happiness these places gave me and I’m always trap in nostalgia looking at these. Reminiscing the joy of being  in these places in the past wraps my whole being. For nostalgia’s sake, my return to Guimaras Island, Philippines is a treasured moment that I will always appreciate.






it’s your name that rings
to smile through the day
all the laughter that it brings
take my pains away
yes, it’s Patricia
it’s your name…



To Dream


’twas calling me
every night and
in the wee hours
of the morning
as i  laid down
on my bed
’twas accosting me
to close my eyes
and along the way
a sob was heard
tears dropped
like it rained
time was inviting
me To Dream





you’re my angel
jewel of my eyes
hater of the burning hell
a cynic of lies

in white robes with wings
representation of a being
a guardian spirit
sight all seeing

performing a mission
acts sent by God
keeping safe from harm
in a protective watch


Not Even Windy


image credit: adobe royalty-free image

back and fort
the swing moves
on a hot summer day
it dances ballet
no children
nor teens to see
activities have gone
space is on vacancy
how could it be
swinging all alone
it’s not even windy

Photography: Beach Flags

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Beach flags of Santiago White Beach in Camotes Island, Cebu adorn the wide beach front to attract more visitors. Coming to this island by sea could be easy if these flags are standing by the beach front for the visitors to easily pinpoint the beach’s direction.


She Smiled At Me


she smiled at me

on a lonely summer day

our eyes met somewhere

felt the joy in the air

but there’s no company

that she asked of me

but the feeling has remained

in my thoughts  she was chained


Reflection, Me. : Week 01 : Day 10 – ( MY PROMPTS )

from the box of The Hut Owner, I’m reblogging this poem which depicts his teen years …Please read the ORIGINAL POST…

the hut owner blog

This was supposed to be my Day 01 but I needed more time to finish it so, I made this as my last prompt instead.



Inspired by Micaiah brought this into being

galvanized emotion dared writing to be conceived

the days rewound and moved into grinding

back where it started none will be deceived



Urban Hiking


The memories when i was young and green

recapturing the thoughts when  I was a teen

 gone were the days  parents have to discipline

correcting my actions most were all routines


Mistakes were almost filling to the brim

all that overflowed they have to skim

young  was I, my wants met resistance

scolded was all i got as their  response


Coming home late were always their  worry

nightly events out with friends and buddies

drinking became my frequent nightly glory

friends and neighbors, nights of social sortie



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Tulang Diot Island, Cebu, Philippines

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Still untouched by the development and growth of tourism in the country, this island is gaining the attention of domestic tourists as one of the alluring, unassuming and charming beaches in the Visayas region. A few minutes boat ride from Esperanza, Camotes Island, the white sand beach sparkles from afar. Glance at the photos and see in the cards its future as a major attraction in the region.

Landslide on the terraces

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Carved out of the Ifugao hillsides in the Philippines, these rice terraces stretch like steps to the heavens which change colors during rainy and dry seasons. Some parts of these paddies are already facing erosion like the one in the picture. The center part is eroded by too much water brought about by rains. The mud walls of the terraces  gave way to landslides. Considered as the Eight Wonder of the world, these terraces were built by the Ifugao tribes 2000 – 3000 years ago and still in use by the modern populace of the region.

The deal


photo credit:

the tiger made a sound
when a mouse passed by
he trembled and made a bow
when the cat said, meow, meow

the kitten offered his paw
but the tiger raised his brow
do you want me as a friend, asked the cat
tiger, get the iron bar and kill the rat




love found another
not as intense as the other
it blossomed into one
but friendship shone
’till love was gone



everyday i see him with the same clothes

wearing the same intensity of smile

with hair not growing any length

he is not moving

stocked in a laminated cardboard

hanged on the left

side of the chest

he’s not breathing


the identification card of mine

my ID is still alive and strong…

Celestial Concoction

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Image credit: Lyndia Falls (Google+)

I’ll fly you to the moon

to the endless space

of happiness and joy

I’ll fly your slumberous soul

and awaken you from the journey

of your repose

Taste the sweetness of my kisses

and surrender to the flowing juices of love

emanating from my heart to the cave of dignity

Press your head against the pillow

and arch your back against the newly shaved air

Feel the bulge as you open the fly of my soul

where love exits ready to reap your embraces

Close your eyes,

feel the heat of my toxic tongue as it burns your skin

and leave a heart-shaped scar

Blend the youthful corrupted liquids of our innocence 

as it travels from mouth to mouth

As this moment of celestial concoction

nears the tip of the spire

Let me fly you back to reality as I whisper in your ear

I Love You, dear!


 I sat with my distressed memories
wandered in many unexpected places
in every battered nook that i stop
is a bitter sphere reliving the past

dainty spot where love has dawned
painted journals swirled and thawed
they rushed and flew out of my mind
in my heart they anchored those mem’ries behind


old photos in the wooden box
Photo by Kaboompics .com on




love to read this again…



as i open a sea of thoughts

rushes of curling waves kiss the sands

gather no moss nor leave traces of gloss

a heap of dune boils my commands


erasures define as they swing to and fro

’til the wrinkled phase is ironed and correctly done

then it is set ready, aimed like an arrow and bow

shot into the target awaiting fate to be grand

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