The Poetry Marathon

Meeting a commendable person in a life

meeting in a group adhering

good governance

for all humanity

enshrining life

in boundless and borderless

no meaning abhorring division or strife

emulating in all corners

though a wrecking ball at times

simply being oneself

emulating

a living legacy

indwelling spring of endless possibilities

imperfect person

still a wrecking ball at times

pleasant listening into

uncovering the self evolving

undergoing

over the board

a global treasure in my eyes

shining light not  blinding one

 

 

The Broken Man

There is a man
who site on top
who counts his coins
and lives alone.
He is not mean
he is just sad.

The one he loved
she ran away
and broke his heart.
The scarlet left
A broken man
without a care!

He is a friend
and yes I love
but he’s not mine
-he is unbound.
His heart is his
I’ve been friend zoned.

But still I’ll fight
I’ll stand by him
and let him cry.
His wound will heal
And soon he’ll find;
He’ll fall in love.

Until that day
I’ll stand as guard
I’ll be a shield
and give him strength
Until the day
He spreads his wings
and fly away.

Poem 5

Loneliness…

the sound of

the soul

and

the heart

crying

together

 

Eve Remillard

6/13/2015

The tower – Hour 4

Gleaming cubes

stacked one atop another,

each housing one body, one soul,

empty bodies, empty souls.

 

Each cube a home,

a white, gleaming box,

spare of furniture,

screens on all sides.

 

Each cube a prison,

each person a prisoner,

chained to screens,

soul sucking screens.

 

There is only inside

only these white gleaming walls,

there is no color, no smells,

no personal contact, no outside.

 

There is no connection,

when always connected,

no perspective, no understanding,

no meaning, no point.

 

Gleaming cubes,

stacked one atop another,

each cube a coffin,

housing one person, one soul.

 

 

 

 

#5 – Miracle

tiny little hands
ten toes curl then open slow
a sweet yawn escapes
my heart overflows with love
at the miracle i made

Light Bends

The Black Void

Sucking up space

Light bends

Fear comes in waves

I am being pulled in

Who will feed the cat?

#4 Avalanche Blanche and Snowshoe

Some say she was born in a snow cave on Sunlight Peak in ’92.

Others say she came from Crestone Needle with her rabbit named Snowshoe.

Avalanche Blanche, Avalanche Blanche. When the snow mass shifts, she’ll be there for you.

 

Blanche has big wide feet like snowshoes and eyes that see through snow.

She carries thermal blankets and coffee – maybe a gallon or so.

Avalanche Blanche, Avalanche Blanche. When the snow mass shifts, she will always know.

 

She doesn’t need a shovel, cause Snowshoe digs like a whirlwind, you see.

Around his neck, Snowshoe carries a beacon, so help comes 1-2-3.

Avalanche Blanche, Avalanche Blanche. When the snow mass shifts, she’ll get you free.

 

(#3/12): (“Anniversary”)

 

Bare trees green in spring.

Anniversaries that mark

Each passing season.

 

© 2015 Silvester Phua

 

No Rest For An Open Heart

There is no rest for an open heart.

We swirl and swill the depths in our mouths
like yesterday’s coffee.

We of the feeling realms are
bound by our natures, to move
and melt into shieldlessness;

no matter the outcome.

Is surrender the answer?
I’m not sure I’ll know.

For my heart being open
and my gates being closed
is a battle never to be won.

A funny thing to be in..

Being in love

turns out to be funny

Smiling all the time

giggling for a while

 

Dreaming of his eyes

Lips too sometimes

 

Its funny to be happy

regardless of anything

He didn’t say Hi!

Or even Bye!

 

Though we still fly

Coz, our dreams are high

Seems funny to be in it

but my smile says its worth it!