The Poetry Marathon

Anticipation … assumption … premonition …

Words that promise something … yet exhaustion;

In all life’s “ion” … it goes back to a question.

What is life all about? … Is there any OPTION?

Anticipating the things that are yet to … but might not come …

Worrying about the unrelenting outcome …

Excited, yet uneasy … will it turn out to be?

Anticipation … assumption … premonition …

… exhaustion … life’s “ion” …

Spooky scary creepy,

Sleekly crafty wily,

Slimy prickly shitty,

Clumsy grumpy whiny,

Creaky squeaky noisy,

Spiky prickly grossly,

Nasty naughty vainly,

Devilishly messy folly,

Life’s negativity!

A lovely flower of spring
Unconventional beauty
Radiant and sprightly
Characters enduring.

Bright and warm smile she possesses
Heart so pure and caring
She has no color defined
Just natural and refined.

The big thing about her is no secret
She opens her heart to all who want to peek
Welcoming them without hesitation
But staying depends on ones action.

As lovely and fiery as spring
She is a friend in all seasons
No matter how bad the weather
She won’t leave you withered.

Like a spring that brought life.
She will always share her sunshine
A playful and magical character
She is a friend always not just in spring.

We plan, yet we fail …

We toil, yet we are lacking …

We love, yet we are hurt …

We care, yet we are taken for granted …

Life is unfair, yet beautiful.

Good and bad they said both comes in threes …

The difference lies in how we take both …

With open heart and an open mind …

Or with a complaining and misgiving soul …

Be thankful everyday for the things we have …

Because others don’t have the things we are thankful about.

Dreaded time has come …
His long time battle ended in a long run.
Bottled monster … long and short had long gone.
What remains was replaced by pain and regrets.
A life lived in a pathetic state.

Life with him was a roller coaster …
One week sober … one month of heaven.
A month with monster in a bottle … a year in hell.
Though he struggled to stand in dignity;
We witnessed his defeated fight in futility.

We were fashioned in his wit …
But not defined by his grief.
Served as a trophy of the life he didn’t dreamed off.
As he loved us the best he could.
But the bottled monster that gleamed in blood;
Sparkled like an enchanting temptress …
Lurked him in a fog.

As he whispered his last breath …
Tears abundantly flowed … not in pain but resigned.
He held my hands and mouthed the words.
“Thank you for loving me … despite of.
“Hush” … I said … “You are fine Dad.”
As I kissed him, in my heart and in my thought.
He loved us the best he could.

“Mom…are you okay?”
I hold my breath for a few second … I close my eyes and let out a silent sigh.
I cannot see his eyes but I can strongly hear his agitation.
A child in a body of teenager but trying hard to be a man.

“Yes I am fine … I’m okay … nothing to worry.”
My voice lighten up a little but it can’t be wrong, he fell it strong.

He knows .. yes ..  we know that deep in our hearts…We know!
We are moving mountains with our Faith and Love with each other.
We know that our problems are also mounting …
We know that in our silence … we cannot lie and we won’t lie;

Though we speak thousand words of assurance ..“.we are doing fine.”
But deep in our heart … its deepest silence lies ….
Fear … uncertainty … longing … false hope and life’s negative thoughts.
And … .doubts … lot of doubts.

He look into my eyes and smile …
No one will take this moment from me, not even distance.
The eyes that still holds hundreds of questions.
The shy boy become a child again though he tries hard to conceal.
The swag and confidence of being love … was and still is.

“Thank you and take care Mom.”
“I love you son.”

I can still hears his voice .. “Mom you go first.”
As I click to end our conversation … I whisper softly.
“Yes Mom is fine…I need to be fine.”
My first born .. my first pure love … and more first to come.
Is counting to his strong and loving mom.

Great Dane measures in hemp,
Guarded with sorrow and pain,
He gathered his wit and started weeping,
Why on earth, I am living hell alone?
Black birds, black hemp,
Clouded with grey and cobweb string,
Where should he go, what should he do?
He can’t fix his life … broken pieces in two.
Grab the candle … grab the stick,
Hemp leaves and synthetic meth.
No healing … pain … stretched!
Savior failed … redemption no more.

© M.C.Pagayon 2015

He comes along with a big smile

In form that no one will whine.

A look that is deceiving and worn,

As if he has a heart full of thorn.

He opens his heart in thousand words

But one can understood.

It takes a lot of courage to do it.

And i was amazed by his manhood.

By and by I was drawn to him …

Like a water carried by the flow.

He awakens my heart that was long closed.

And put back the smile I once lost.

I wish I can have more time …

So I can be with him  for awhile.

But morning comes so soon,

I am losing him in a few seconds.

I love the night to come early

Wherein I can have time to be sleepy.

And wish that again, I will have him

In my sweet dream he become a reality.

Anticipation … assumption … premonition …

Words that promise something … yet exhaustion;

In all life’s “ion” … it goes back to a question.

What is life all about? … Is there any OPTION?

Anticipating the things that are yet to … but might not come …

Worrying about the unrelenting outcome …

Excited, yet uneasy … will it turn out to be?

Anticipation … assumption … premonition …

… exhaustion … life’s “ion” …