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Thursday 23rd November, 2006
Which Modern American Poet Are You
Author's Note:
Take this TEST too, and post here your results. I’m curious to know, and learn more about other American poets! more
8:35 PM | 9 comments | #

Wednesday 20th September, 2006
The summerdays
were never too warm,
I was left cold inside still.
And here comes September,
he has caught me
without enough logs
for the fireplace.
3:24 PM | 3 comments | #

Wednesday 04th January, 2006
Shelf 2
New Bio:

Last Christmas I succeeded in finally wearing around my neck that orange scarf that I always wanted to find and be in possession of. There used to be a little problem there: first, Philippines is a tropical country it wouldn’t snow in a hundred years; second, I see young more
9:21 AM | 4 comments | #

Monday 14th February, 2005
There is a Time For Everything
Ecclesiastes 3

Everything Has Its Time

1 To everything there is a season,
A time for every purpose under heaven:
2 A time to be born,
And a time to die;
A time to plant,
And a time to pluck more
5:04 PM | 7 comments | #

Thursday 10th February, 2005
Well, just shelfing this one for the meantime.

"The love that lasts longest is the love that is not returned."

And so not to waste this page, I am sharing here a poem written by a friend:

by Jun de la Rosa

I’m sorry what did you just ask?
Forgive me, the stress
on your last syllable drifts, light
in this place loud
from the movement of hands,
legs hurrying. Lips are formed
into only one word:

The bags of curiosity should be opened
on our way home,
while we, hagglers, share notes
on the night’s wonders.

Did you just ask why I was still single?
My mind is stuck,
like my hands
in this mountain of clothes.

Aren’t you just glad
we are finally here?
Lovers are just either bad or worse—
there are better buys around
like these shoes that always come in pairs.

No one waits on tables now
while a face burns with candles.
Elsewhere, the soup is turning lukewarm.
Surprises, marking the dates
are forgotten: the flowers printed on linens
are part of the bargain.
A few steps away,
the chocolates are melting,
expiring almost. See.

In this
landslide of overruns,
madness is not anything close to love.

Before you rummage
through that pile of romance novels,
I’ll ask you something:
Can bargains be returned?
How can you tell cheater doilies
that shrink away when washed?

11:49 AM | 1 comment | #

Friday 17th December, 2004
I Bet You Missed Me
Oh yeah! I bet everyone misses me already. My last poetry submission was dated when, December 10? But guys you need not suffer anymore because I have a new post which I think you may have just missed. Check out this page: Oh, yeah, it’s okay now I understand. There are lots of things to do like shopping for Christmas and shoveling snow and reading the write-offs (but look—I myself took time rating and commenting and yet still had time writing part 5 of PenPals) and I don't know what else, Oh my gulay!

PenPals, you bet I believe in it! It wouldn’t have survived till this last installment if it were any sack of crap! But hey, I really regret that I may have pissed off the other critics but I honestly would like to hear what they are going to say about the next parts. Come on guys! Don’t you easily give up on us! Nope, nope, I am not begging… And how about those who read the first parts? Huni, Jeannie, where art thou?

(Sigh) It seems I really don’t have anything poetic to write. Not even an artistic way of begging. Trying to be funny but… But you see, I don't give up.

4:08 PM | 5 comments | #

Monday 15th November, 2004
Happy Birthday Windchime
My Dear Lucie, I have been busy the past few days. I have been away the past weekend too and I think I already missed a lot.

Anyways, it's already November 16 here and it's already your birthday here! So, HAPPY BIRTHDAY! I don't have any good birthday passage ready, except for I want to thank you for accepting my friendship and for always being around. That one I wished over Claire's wish thread is more of a wish for my own birthday (March 31) LOL. So I have a different wish that is only for your own birthday. I wish that you get to write some more and that someday I'll get hold of a poetry book written by you and it's got to be published and distributed all around the globe. And that you'll get royalties for them LOL!

Okay, I hope my wish didn't piss you off. But it's the only thing I could think of right now. I have lots of wishes for you because you are my dear friend.

More power and again, HAPPY BIRTHDAY, my Lily...

Peter Paulino de Villa
7:25 PM | 10 comments | #

Friday 05th November, 2004
I Long For the Poetry Threads
I long for the Poetry Threads. I long for the nice people who used to join the threads. I miss seeing good poems with five to ten comments on them, not to mention the rating boards with three to five members who cared to vote. I miss writing thoughtful comments to works of newbies and long-time more
7:51 AM | 5 comments | #

Thursday 04th November, 2004
Hearts Need Repair
Author's Note:
Patulong naman kung sino mabait d'yan, para mapaganda itong dalawang tula na ito. Na-post ko na'to sa poetry thread: Hearts. Salamat.


You decant my heart
from his soft bed
to a swinging hammock;
his little chary eyes
you poke with a paintbrush
as he sway forth
as if he were your artwork
- yours to mock.

Yet through all these
your face retain
its summer calm
making my heart look up
with rapt attention.
You bewitched him
and he clamors for even harder,
ever more frequent taunt.


You and I, we display them among the chinas
and ceramic souvenirs we collect
when we attend friends' weddings.
We let our neighbors see them
from the living room, no we could not move
the glass shelf from the study.
They would say "How neat, both your hearts
sitting there untouched. Why don't you let us
hold them for a while?"
then we could scowl at them and say
"They're none of your business!"

Remember one time when we argued
about the in-laws
you hit the glass shelf with a baseball bat?
Our poor frightened hearts jumped off their cushion,
I ran to check if you cut anyone of them,
suppressing tears I picked them up on the floor.
Good, they weren't hurt
there was no need for the gauze bandage
"Horrible you! Don't you dare do this once more," I cried.

8:06 AM | 4 comments | #

Wednesday 03rd November, 2004
Where Are The Gypsies?!
I thought it was the best of all villanelles! Hah, I never thought I could also be the most conceited poet here in If anyone remembers me posting 'A Gypsy Poet-Artist's Villanelle' a few months back, well I posted it in a Filipino poetry site only recently and look what feedbacks I got. I more
7:46 AM | 7 comments | #

Wednesday 29th September, 2004
2 July ~ 27 September
Was born early July
if not late June,
his moods as the stars said
are synchronised to the Moon.
I came across him
in those moments
he was not wearing his lunar laugh
and the dampness of his melancholy
could almost wrap me like a wet blanket.

The moth that he was
flying from candlelights
to streetlamps
lured me to follow;
my own skills
in taking off the ground
and kissing fire
tested to the limits.
The gossamer wings
of his fancy
took me to the dreamiest trips
to the far, far isle of Greece.
I knew then that he truly cared
when his words reflected back
the emotions I inked.

One night
I printed some of his writings
then packed up to leave for home.
Under my coat I shielded
all his masterpieces
from the humid outdoors.
But then an uncaring stranger bumped me
as I was crossing the street,
the papers flew
like crazy white doves
under the darting raindrops;
some pages seemed to chase the cars passing,
some went to a dark alley...
None was left except for a hope
that he has not unpublished yet
like the other poet.

As hopes always fail me:
I saw his page the next day
bare like a looted apartment.
His last log-in was three-sixteen a.m.
twenty-seven September,
the very moment when
he was perhaps tearfully clicking Xs.
Oh, he who has tended my poetry
suddenly weeded out all his.

I thought about the threads...

Oh, yes the threads!
10:58 PM | 6 comments | #

Wednesday 22nd September, 2004
A Blog For A Friend
She saw the old lighthouse
one rainy August day
and thought of her mother
and me,
with a pen and postcards in her hands
and calm in her heart...
God bless her
I love her
and that she thought of me that day
is enough
I can already breathe
the salt she breathed.

It doesn't matter much
how she loves me back
but that she loves me
as much as she did
her sojourn in Massachussetts.

I cry tonight
because of the joy I feel
in my discovery of her
not too far away back
when she wrote the saddest leave-taking poem
I've ever known.

My friend,
I will be saying good-bye for a while.
I hope to find you still
when I come back.
1:31 AM | 5 comments | #

Friday 17th September, 2004
My Haiku
No this is a R-A-N-T! LOL.

I am lucky, that one of the haiku experts Huni was the only one who commented on my 'Last Month' haiku while I too (like windchime) was hoping more people could come and help me improve on it. I could cry too, but nope I didn't. Huni's simple comment assured me that I did just the right thing. There only had been 42 views of the said piece as of the moment, and 35 of them I guess were mine. So far that was my fourth attempt on haiku here (one of them is still in Londongrey's thread).

Oh, maybe people don't want to read anything about last month and care for only the present.

Just to make things clear, this is NOT an invitation for members to read my haiku, just some sort of a journal (liar Pete!).

11:21 PM | 7 comments | #

Wednesday 15th September, 2004
My emotion like thunder,
My wonder,

My feelings, a tapestry
that could not get finished,
could not be framed
nor exhibited.

8:28 PM | 12 comments | #

Tuesday 31st August, 2004
Awesome Interview, Claire
I got so much carried away! I just commented on the latest Exposed! by Claire and I think I've just written the longest comment I've ever had in my life.

I still even felt I've not said enough yet, goodness, we're talking about 'three awesome blondes'!

7:27 AM | 5 comments | #

Sunday 29th August, 2004
The summerdays
were never too warm,
I was left cold inside still.
And here comes September,
he has caught me
without enough logs
for the fireplace.
11:52 PM | 1 comment | #

Friday 27th August, 2004
The Learning of Pete
My earliest memories
were only of an orange balloon
barely rising up, slowly deflating.
Could not recall whether it was my birthday
or that I only thought it was.
And of twilight
and girl cousins
singing Dios de Salve. more
11:31 PM | 15 comments | #

Saturday 14th August, 2004
Nostalgia and My 50th Post
My first poem posted here in Lit.Org:

I Need Nothing

I need nothing
When you’re gone
But the memory of that morning
The daylight was chasing us.

Now I have no journey
That I care to make
But the memory of that moment
We were kissing in the dark.

I need no shortcut
To the journey back
That shadowed dawn.
Not to run forward yet,
Just leave me hanging
In the air.

And here's the very first comment I got not for the poem above but to my other poem titled 'I Wonder'.

"Direct. Honest. Marred by a couple of clumsy lines (7 and 9)."
( Posted by: Viper9 [Member] On: May 7, 2004 )

I wonder where Viper is right now?

And then followed by Marlyn's comment, this time for the poem above:

"Great imagery. It has a nice natural feel and flow... like breathing. Brought back some nice memories."
( Posted by: MaxiiJ [Member] On: May 8, 2004 )

I wonder too where Marlyn/Maxiij is right now?

Maxiij and Viper9 are very good poets and I look up on them. Does anyone still remember these two good writers?

1:02 AM | 6 comments | #

Wednesday 11th August, 2004
My Little Game Turned Death!
1. Has anyone of you ever taken a photograph of a scene, that when it's been developed you see something else that's there but somehow hidden and couldn't be found right away in just one looking?

2. Has anyone of you ever written a haiku (or two) about graveyards, on one boring more
8:46 PM | 7 comments | #