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Friday, April 22, 2016

For Tonight She Turns Sixty 



Tonight, the angels descend
       to sing melodic songs
together with  the chirping of a  bird,
      released from her cage
the hooting of the owl
     satiated by a hearty meal
and the steady call of the cicadas
     after being burrowed for 17 years.
A seeming cacophony of discordant notes,
faint at first until they get louder
     and the air is filled with heaven’s harmony
     all made lovely
for tonight she  turns sixty

Armed with nothing but her ubiquitous smile
      more radiant as ever,
better than the child who first experiences rain
     after a long dry spell
or when she first held  snow in her tiny hands.
As if granted of a wish by her fairy
     she smiles triumphantly
For tonight she turns sixty

She is my morning coffee
My sunshine after a well slept night
She is the light that illumines my path
     on a bumpy, dark, dangerous road.
She is my queen, my glory,
     my present and my distant future.
Together we shall  forever be happy
     washing away the doldrums of idleness
     laughing our way to a journey of happiness. 
Join me and my family as we all sing 
     Happy birthday with all your might
For she turns sixty tonight

rolly


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Friday, November 27, 2015

not yet 



not yet my child
no dolls, new dress,
just plain water, spoiled bread
in our empty fridge

a thread and needle kit
you do not belong
in a world of despair
of things not meant to be.

skip a rope, jump to ten
drink some juice, a potionful.
no blood lost, she went
to a medical man. decision hers,
the guilt we share, not yet
my child, not yet

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Monday, October 12, 2015

Hell's Sentinel 

six magenta eyes
on three heads
a single serpent tail.
firm and resolute,
stands guard
lets no one pass
to or from Hades’ lair.

 three heads has Cerberus
each view from a different angle
do what you like in front of this beast
surely it shall never miss
tiniest gesture - a nudge, a dance
smitten smile, or even just a frown

three perspectives
from this monster come
you may do one thing
 but your acts betray
your inner motives,
vil or otherwise.


 it does not care
what you think it is
a friend or a foe
a master or a slave.
but what matters for sure
is that once you’re locked
inside the lair
there’s no way out
but burn in hell's eternal flame.


rolly

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Friday, October 09, 2015

My Portrait 



If you are to paint my portrait
Make one when I was young
With mane that grew  down to my shoulders
not this thin, two-toned hair on my bald crown

If you are to paint my portrait
Make one when I was young
When every day’s an adventure
everything seen was new to my sight

If you intend to paint my portrait
Flatter me with my youth forever gone
Not this wrinkled skin
Each fold a dead weight to the years
With every crease, a pain

If you need to paint my portrait
See me with your young eyes
Not through my blurry eyes
Distorted by sins seen in countless nights.

rolly

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Tuesday, September 02, 2014

She Cried 

The choir boys sung and the church bells rung  
A tear for every heave and every sigh,  
With a lump on her throat, she cried, she cried     

How the girl wished she could’ve stopped her tongue 
If only she knew she could’ve tried, yes, tried           
The choir boys sung and the church bells rung 
  A tear for every heave and every sigh,        

Now all that is left are kind words unsung    
In her bosom they shall bitterly hide,            
There is nobody else to chide, yes, chide     
The choir boys sung and the church bells rung   
A tear for every heave and every sigh,
With a lump on her throat, she cried, she cried      




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Tuesday, December 10, 2013

Yolanda 

Lucky. That was what I was.
Or so I thought.
I met a tormented woman
possessed, a hungry lion
who has stalked for weeks,
salivating, expecting,
ready to devour an innocent prey.
Even the mighty sun
cowered in fear and hid
among the clouds.

Lucky. That was what I was.
Or so I thought.
I had a stable crown
above my head,
thick barriers to shield me from her wrath
wrought from years of neglect.
But I miscalculated her strength.
When she unleashed her fury,
no roof was strong enough.
Glass shattered and flung like bullets.
Trees older than time were uprooted
with every uttered curse.
Thick walls began to wail
and crumble to pieces
as she lashed her tongue.

Lucky. That was what I was
Or so I thought.
I was several stories high,
far from the clutches of her arms.
Until her pregnant waters surged,
ready to purge whatever was in its path.
Birthing waves upon waves
that crept like a sickle would
unwanted weed
until there was nowhere to go
but the guts where my city lies.

Lucky. That was what I was.
Or so I thought.
Like a mother avenging a slain child.
She spared no one! Men, women, children.
Strong, weak, wicked and the meek.
I grabbed a post as the waters
rushed to where I was.
Unlike Noah fighting a tumultuous storm,
I couldn’t save anybody but myself.

Lucky. That was what I was.
Or so I thought.
I was caught in raging waters
that ate, consumed everything.
I caught all the debris earth had to throw away.
I was battered and wounded.
I did not surrender.

When her fury subsided,
I stepped on muddy ground
only to find men and women
strewn and sprawled lifeless.
I heard moans and screams
of healthy men now limbless.
A woman screamed her child’s name,
man grieved for her dead wife
and a child cried for parents
nowhere to be found.
It was then I knew what I was.
Lucky!

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Wednesday, November 06, 2013

A Child Rhymes 

One, two, tie my shoe
good shoes are for 
a chosen few

Three, four, shut the door
trap all blessings and throw them
on the floor

Five, six, pick up sticks
whip the voodoo man and fix
tangled web of lies and poo poo mix
his amazing bag of tricks

seven, eight, no one's straight
it seems we'll be alone at heaven's gate
judgment day, I cannot wait
greedy politicians took the bait

nine, ten, a big fat hen
is all I need to show you then
the bunch we call august men
a plague of piggy thieves 
wallow in a pen

rolly

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