soft grumbles

I failed to see that fiery
vermilion glow at dusk
the last hurrah of radiance
cascaded by a setting sun
as it bids the day farewell.

Heaven is not what it is tonight.
The gods can be idle, too, sometimes.
No stars flash steady lights
like fireflies floating around a tree

or a moon to shine upon my bald head.
Neither can I smell the dama de noche
that only blooms at night
as the winds blow away its fragrance,

nor can I feel the warmth of a tight
embrace to shield me from the cold.
I shall sleep early for there is nothing to see,
hoping that I shall wake to kiss the morning dew

clinging on a bud of a morning glory.
I close my eyes and rest
knowing that the sky I missed
shall be there with the same fiery red
as the world welcomes back

the sun king at dawn.
And you shall be by my side
once again without a need to explain
why or who or how.

rolly

Labels: love

The halls are empty and quiet
punctuated only by the soft murmurs
of the nurses at their station
waiting for that beacon of light
summoning them to attend to their ward.

I hesitated to enter your rooom
and smell the antiseptic bed,
the thin white blanket and pillow cases
that unmasked putrid odor of death
lingering in the air.

I know

life is that tiny droplet of liquid
entering your numbed vein;
life is the steady whir of the machine
bubbling away with each strenuous breath;
life is that tube stuck in your nose
where they feed you liquid food
blended with morphine.

We are unmindful of the torrential rain
that pours outside, impatient with each drop
of sugar in your IV, urging the bubbles
to go faster and faster.

I know

you are safe within the confines
of this sterilized room. Pain
has wandered off for now
and you are breathing peacefully
maybe dreaming of another time.

the light flickers,

the steady whir of the machine falters

then they go out!

rolly

Labels: death

# posted by rolly @ 5:06 AM

What’s in a shoebox but a shoe.
Once black as a moonless night
shined wet that it sparkled in the light.
The other pair’s been gone for years
and all that’s left are memories
of a best forgotten past.

What’s in the ref but an egg
sitting there for ages.
It could have been a lovely fowl by now
tossed in the oven with thyme.
A delectable dinner it would have made
for a party of five or even eight.

It used to be full of fruits,
fresh vegetables, meat, dairy
and bottles of ice cold beer.
Unplugged, nothing remains
but the stench of rotten food
now gone.

What’s on the shelf but a shirt,
torn, dusty and made brittle by time.
And yes, a bonnet for his four year old
who will never get to grow old.

What’s in the cookie jar but salt.
Drenched with rain from a leaking roof,
it can be brine to wash the wounds
of this man’s heart and remind him
he has nothing else
for they are all gone.

What is left of this man
badly beaten and suffering the pangs
of hunger and want?
All that is left is a brain
to remember how it was
and what could have been.

A
STAR
WAS
SEEN IN
THE SKY THAT
NIGHT. IT
WAS AS BRIGHT IF NOT
BRIGHTER THAN
THE MOON. IN BED, A SIX YEAR
OLD BOY WAS FAST ASLEEP. HE
TRIED HARD TO BE GOOD ALL YEAR ROUND
FOR A PROMISE MADE TO HIM BY
HIS MOM AND DAD. THEN THERE WAS A FAINT SOUND
HEARD ON THE ROOF. IT COULD NOT BE A CAT, FOR
SURE. IT WAS HEADED TOWARDS THE CHIMNEY BUT THEN IT
STOPPED AND ALL WAS SILENT ONCE MORE. A FEW
SECONDS THEREAFTER, A LIGHT THUD WAS HEARD DOWNSTAIRS.
A MAN DRESSED IN FLAMING RED WITH LONG WHITE MOUSTACHE AND
BEARD APPEARED AS THE ASHES THAT FLEW IN THE AIR CLEARED.
HE TOTED A HUGE SACK ON HIS SHOULDERS AS HE HEADED TOWARDS THE TREE.
HE REACHED INTO HIS SACK AND TOOK OUT AN ELECTRIC TOY TRAIN, YOU SEE.
HE PLACED THIS UNDER THE TREE AND LET OUT A GIGGLE AS HE PLANTED IT
THERE. HE MANAGED A SMILE AS HE KNEW A PROMISE HAD BEEN FULFILLED AND
HE MURMURED TO HIMSELF
HO
HO
HO
MERRY CHRISTMAS
MERRY CHRISTMAS

Labels: Christmas