P[e]NORAMA

Summer reigns
In your lips,
But I see flickers
Of autumn
In your eyes.

The lid
Of your anguish
Is tightly clasped,
But the tempest
That dwells inside
Bares the parody
Of your smile.

(more…)

.

A letter that should not have been penned
A song that should not have been sung
A poem that should not have been read
A story that should not have been shared

A promise that should not have been given
A lesson that should not have been taken
An advice that should not have been heeded
A step that should not have been taken

A trigger that should not have been pulled
A sword that should not have been wielded
A prisoner that should not have been jailed
A risk that should not have been taken

Piled (not too) neatly in one of my closets
Are things that should not have been kept
Crowding my drawers, filling my pockets
It’s clean-up time once again, I guess.

.
//Sherma E. Benosa
2 July 2007; 2:25pm

Warning: This post gives a glimpse into the void inside of me. Read at your own risk.

Down is how I feel right now. The love of my life has been sick for more than a year now… yet the doctors still don’t have a clear diagnosis of what’s ailing him. Just a pulse rate that is too fast and a bp that is too low.

Things would be much better if we weren’t continents apart. At least I would be there for him. At least we would be together — physically — instead of being together only through the internet.

Sure, we’re getting by. We spend at least 10 hours a day burning our internet connection, so in some ways we  are together, except that we cannot hold each other’s hand. But this week, even the pleasure of being with him daily has been taken away from me.

He is at the hospital right now, and he will stay there for a week. It’s just his third day away and already I am feeling so helpless and down…

down…

down…

I feel like crying, but I don’t want to. He said he needs me to be very strong, and strong I will be. For him. For me.

But he didn’t say I cannot write him a poem. So I try, but I can’t. He is my poetry. My pen refuses to budge because he’s not with me.

So I’m down, but I don’t want depression to get me. I’m gonna do something, even if it means I have to cheat. I’m gonna  post something I’ve written before… when we were in the same situation… After all, it is as much my poem now as it was then.

(more…)

There’s something about poetry that tugs at my heart. The metaphors sing to me, beckoning me to fly to a floating realm. They make the sun smile, the moon flirt, and the wind whisper sweet nothings. They give dreams their powerful wings, let hope soar, and allow peace to descend.

Of all forms of literature, poetry is the most magical. Reading poetry is like being invited by a dear friend into his being. It gives us a glimpse of the gem inside the poet’s soul, and allows us a precious peek into the void within, at the dreams that strengthen the spirit, the fears that wouldn’t show their face, and the angst that are struggling to come out.

In this post, I would like to share with you some magical moments, by sharing with you some of the best poems I’ve stumbled into in the blogosphere. May these poems touch you as they touched me. My only request is that you’d also share a poem that touched you in a special way.

Corazon Quaimas’ You and I

I love the wordplay and the imagery in this poem. I couldn’t say though, that this is the poet’s best, simply because he has lots of poems that I love. Especially his Ilokano ones. A master of minimalism, he writes poems that pulsate!

Sarah Flanigan’s Sense of Small 

I don’t exactly know what she was thinking when she wrote this, but I am reading her post as a poem on humility, on being awed at something that’s grand, and bowing to a great being. Of course, my interpretation could be far from what she had in mind, and from your own interpretation, but who is to say I’m wrong?

Tomachfive’s Refreshing the Window

I love the analogy and wordplay in this poem. It can be interpreted in so many ways. It says something about our relationships, about how we deal with life, and so on. That’s what makes it so especial.

Delfin Ballo Jr.’s Closure.

This poem, I stumbled upon just last week. I was searching for English poems by Filipinos, and I got through the Pinoy Poets site. I haven’t read everything in the site yet, because this one made me stop. I read it again and again, loving it more each time.

So, those are the four poems from poets I’ve come across in the blogosphere. Now, here are some poems from two of my good friends.

Salve’s An Island

Here’s a poem that made me question the kind of a friend I am. Salve has been my friend since our university days, but it was only last year that I learned she writes good poetry. Good thing she blogged it. I would have never known! Argh! I’m such a lousy, lousy friend! (At least, I appreciate her poetry!   )

Armine’s Void

This is a very sad poem, it broke my heart. I never got over it. But it’s very beautiful. It transported me to a different plane, and made me feel I was the void that caused her ruin. Powerful!

Now, it’s your turn to share. What’s on your list?

[PS: Like My Favorite Blog Posts post, this is also going to be a work in progress. There are other poems I have read that I will need to re-discover. I will be adding to my lists as we go along.]

You were the promise that enticed

My soul to fly across the

Vast sky of cloudlessness

Toward forgetfulness;

Along landscaped fantasies.

You were the smile that lured

My spirit to swim across the

The vast ocean of weightlessness

Toward unrestrained waves

Of freely floating dreams.

I hugged the fleeting ecstasy

Of your warm embrace.

I basked in the ephemeral music

Of your haughty grace.

Because I lived for the thrill

Of staring at your hazy gaze.

But now, as you drag slowly by

In this procession of mistakes

I wake up from my trance

And finally see you as you are:

The lie that seized my spirit;

The hearse that carried me to my death.

[seb; 02 July 2008; 10:04pm]

______________________

 PLUG: Related poem in my poetry blog: CAVERN OF DEATH.

.

I could have been the ripple

That reached very far

In the pool of compassion;

I could have been the dream

That inspired hope to soar

From the void of drunken stupor;

I could have been the hymn

That enthused peace to ease

The pain of tortured spirits;

I could have been the tiny spark

That lighted the dark alleys

Of restless souls’ meanderings;

If only I didn’t die;

If only I didn’t succumb

To diseased silence.

//Sherma E. Benosa

27 June 2008; 10:47pm

There is a hymn inside my heart that begs to be sung,

Waiting for my wobbly fingers to strum

The strings of my soul’s discordant melody.

But my lips refuse to sing the notes

That would pull my soul out of the void;

For though it badly needs to hear the music

It fears the thundering boom of the drums.

So I sit around, hoping for someone to play a song

All the while knowing it’s got to be me;

I wait here, daydreaming for a concerto

All the while knowing my ears have become deaf

To the music of the life around me.

Tell me, how can I sing my heart’s tune

Without first fixing the pitch of my thoughts?

I’ve forgotten my lines, I can’t relate to the melody;

Sing to me, sing to me so that I may remember

That there is a hymn that begs to be sung within me.

 Originally titled, “Hymn Within Me.” First posted in my POETRY BLOG and in my MAIN BLOG.

//Sherma E. Benosa

18 May 2008; 5:46pm

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