guerdon’s rest

ah, so you have found this place.
welcome.
take a seat, don’t be shy.
sorry if all i can offer are boulders and gravel.
but the view here is magnificent.
it was a long climb to get here, you must be tired.
my own feet are still chapped and bleeding,
but it was worth it.
i don’t mind the company,
such a view as this is better shared;
don’t mind my feet,
they will heal.
see the setting sun,
how it turns more golden as it drops;
the sea from here is visible, too,
like a silken sheet rippling with the wind,
and the wispy clouds like thin curtains
slashed by sunbursts
are majestic to see, as well.
yes, i know,
it took my breath away, too,
the first i saw it,
all the pain was washed away in that single instant.
and feel that breeze?
later on, it will gust for a while,
scattering the leaves of that single molave tree,
but it will cradle you asleep in the evenings,
like a lullabye,
and the rocks provide enough warmth and shade
in the nights;
the moon is bright here, and the stars,
and many times i lie awake
just counting the streaks of light,
racing them with my wishes,
and so far, i have managed to complete one.
you want to know what it was i wished for?
you make me smile;
what led you here, anyway,
if not my footprints tracked in blood?
look,
the evening is coming,
see how the colors race against each other.
i love how the last rays of the sun
shoot out like spears trying to conquer
the inevitable victory of moon and stars.
yes, it is quiet here,
except for the music of the wind,
and the faraway screech of a lone hawk,
and sometimes a sparrow or two.
hmm…?
oh, i’ve been here several lifetimes;
yes, raise your eyebrows if you wish.
i am glad you made it here at last,
by the way,
have i told you?
did you know i came here to be alone?
but i have found out,
it gets lonely sometimes,
being alone,
even among the splendor of beauty
and the universe unfolding above you,
it is always better to know beauty
and have someone to share it with…

and after a while you wish for it….

welcome,
i am glad you chose to visit me,
you may stay, if you like.

Moving On

Could i but turn around and leave,
Acknowledge nothing of that past i lived,
Surely I will do so; I will change everything I was,
See a new day dawning, forget all yesterdays,
And start afresh. But no, that cannot be;
No life unfinished has that choice, no shell
Dented by bumps and scrapes could scars deny.
Rather, like a tree rebarking everyday,
All days forward must show that I am new.

as summer arrives

the spring has brought you welcome news:
that flowers bloom again,
and that the tulips you once thought
were gone,
are showing themselves in resplendent hues
once more…

the cold has slowly melted away,
and their lingering traces,
those filigrees of ice,
are no more,
and all the white
are swallowed now in greens,
reds and yellows and blues
singing with the birds…

it is now a little easier
taking the short walk
from the porch to the car,
and leaving the house allows you
to bathe in the colors of spring,
and the warmth suffuses you,
giving you some new-found strength
that slept for a season…

you look at the sky,
and see the birds returning
from their long estrangement
of their nests….

they make you smile
as you look forward
for a similar return
of feet tracing their own feet home,
as summer arrives.

empress

the way your presence shouts,
commands the world to pay
obeisance to her imperial
majesty,
compels the undivided awe
of years,
trembles the ground,
you walk in conscious beauty,
unconsciously;
you laugh,
and against all protestations of this
soul,
you clam the shackles
and seal the binding
of my fall.

bantayan dreams

i could almost taste
the tang of the salty air,
and feel the water’s foamy embrace,
the grit of sand beneath my feet,
and the sun upon my face…

seeing your smile
takes me there, too.

and it’s like
i am feasting my eyes upon the vista,
basking under the same sky,
away from the tumult and the noise,
and i can imagine
gazing at shoals and reefs,
swimming with brightly-colored schools,
and combing the beaches
for seashells, with you.

you have left, though,
and my feet,
they burn against the city street,
and i swim again,
in the ebbs and flows of a harsher ocean,
less salty, but less sweet.

but every night brings me back
your smile and your stories…
and remembering you,
brings me back there, too.

remnants

the smoke still stings
and brings tears
to reddened eyes,
it catches in the throat,
and elicits protesting hacks
from overworked lungs…
the heat clings
the sweat and grime,
commingled, they plaster whatever remnants
of clothes upon your back,
and all around you,
this rain of ash,
this rain of unsnow,
uncold and unwelcome,
dissolving at the touch of fingers,
of tears,
is all that remains
of what once was
a pristine offering
of love.

sonnet 16

what is beauty? it is the hidden heart,
the secret of the self — the soul within;
the side of man which is the better part:
that glow and warmth unhid by earthly skin.

what then is beauty? not the charming face,
for oft the shell reveals a rusty core;
instead, ’tis what these mortal eyes can’t trace,
for ’tis the heart that holds it evermore.

true beauty is first felt before beheld;
it is the hidden grandeur of the soul;
the measurer of greatness of the self:
it sets apart the lorldy from the low.

thus beauty is one’s very own self-worth:
the measure of our value and our growth.

i am

i am.
you cannot undo this soul
that you ignore.

i am.
you cannot unmake my being
with your apathy.

i am.
you can only unlove me
to your regret.

—-
around 1998 (defiance after rejection.. hehe)

this is my dream

that i would watch the sunsets someday,
not alone in my awe,
but with a soft hand clutching mine;

that i would open my eyes to the sun,
knowing that the day’s promise was mine,
because i have you by my side;

that i would look forward to the future
with a smile that shall speak of my courage,
buoyed by your love.

—–

bare, simplistic, raw…. this was written in 1997

yes

you touch me with invisible tears
that drench me like a cloak,
and force me to slow my steps,
soften my tread,
silence my footfalls.

i do not need to say it,
but your liquid eyes of unfathomable what
bathe me like a consequence.

carefully, then,
carefully, ever carefully,
i shall hold my soul to touch yours…

and you shall not need to ask again
“does he love me?“

—-
er… taken from my roomfull of mush….

undelete

i was
in an understated…
reverie
(all right, madness, more likely),
punching buttons
left and right,
playing a tuneless keyboard,
when like a whim,
a passing program
caught my eye,
telling me, urging me
to save,
and so,
groping for an empty space
in my C,
i overwrote your file,
and a button more
wiped it clean
off my hard drive;
but the program new
was not as catching
as i first thought
(besides, it won’t allow my scan!),
and so,
sorry for this mad mistake,
it wont happen again.
i have removed that fancy file,
and here,
look,
i have undeleted you
from my heart.

——

this is an updated version of a long-ago verse. i wanted to see if i could create a poem from such an awkward word as “undelete,” and well, this was the result… (original version was written around 1995)