The Day After the Tempest

The color is dark and blue the day after the tempest
When I stand alone in the windowsill watching the lark at play
In the lake where they make ripples that sends me back through time
The day before the tempest when you are still mine

The lake in full colors made vibrant by your smile
The lark used to sing a song, a tune made for us
And the flowers in the field would sway to the gentle cool wind
But now it’s a memory I can hold only in my mind

Reality flashed back with every cold water drops
The sky had shed her tears as if to share in my solemn act
With every tap on my skin send shiver to my soul
So I closed the window and said goodbye to our song

My eyes are dry of tears as if rain took it on my behalf
The noise I hear inside me now drowned by rain’s taps
Today it’s finally over, this tempest’s aftermath
Today I’ll sing our last song now that you’re no longer my other half.

Farewell

As the wind blew and the rain poured down
You bid farewell in the early morn
Leaving your memory so precious to us
Gentle as it goes like your kisses and hugs

You stand strong at the days of tempest
And time is a friend, he gave you minutes
To finish the task left undone
And in time with the Lord be in one

Farewell my dear, ‘tis farewell indeed
My cousin, my sister, my family and friend
The day has come to meet our Creator
Our eternal Peace and loving Master

We are left with memories, ours to kept
We’ll shed happy tears but we’ll never weep
Farewell my dear, farewell indeed
We are blessed to have you, and in love bid.

To my beloved cousin Geralyn Dingcong-Tarra (March 8, 1970 – June 19, 2011), we bid you goodbye with a loving memory and we rejoice for in the Lord you have found our eternal peace.

Under the Autumn Sun

Under the Autumn Sun

a butterfly flutters in the midday green
searching for flowers nowhere to be seen
sailing in the breeze of an autumn wind
that chills the morning dew beneath its wings

above a lone bird chirps on a tree
waiting for something it can never see
singing a song as sweet as it can be
as the leaves slowly falls from an autumn tree

cold wave splashes on a wooden wharf
on its edge a man sits as though it’s his turf
he stares at a canoe dancing with the ebb
whistle’s a song that gives grace to the act

from afar a cry resounds in the place
a chill of longing, an echo of haste
from the stillness of every thing and silence of today
to the uncertainty of morrow a beautiful chaos is made

as dusk splatter on the canvass of the day
synthetic lights glisten at the quay
following the street lamps he walks on cobblestones
another day is done and he walks home alone.

Hey Sister

Too much nonsense and I say adieu
to every night when I go blue
what to you is a moment gone
and there is nothing left to be done

hey sister what shall ye say?
Can you fill me up? I’m empty these days
just help me up and make me fine
from the poison of my lover’s wine

I beg not look into my eyes
or you’ll see dark rivers and body of lies
intoxicate me in thy euphoria
and blind me from my love’s aurora

hey sister, what do you say?
Can you fill the emptiness of me these days?
Just let me know, I’m ready to go
‘coz I’m stuck here and ready to blow

I dare you not trust my true intentions
just play with me so I won’t hurt your emotion
let’s enjoy the ride into oblivion
what happens to-morrow is mine’s obstruction

so sister what can you say?
Are we ready to go, are we ready to play?
All these is a game, I hope you’ll stay
let’s not talk about forever but live for today

forgive me from these gibberish talk
for lately I can’t seem to walk
now I live in mire and I feel so filthy
my lover’s gone, I’m feeling guilty

a fool I am, I made to myself
forgive me sister I can no longer hide from my shelf
this love has taught me much of how
now I can no longer love somehow.

Beautiful Broken

No fallen leaves of ember
to light my afternoon
dark clouds cover the midnight sky
and hides Mr. Moon
yet in this stillness and silence
I find beauty and perfection
the motionless things
and the wonderful creation.

In the blackness of the night
I glide from place to place
seeing, feeling, thinking
not putting time to waste
and there I found the answer
in the face of Mr. Moon
as the clouds that cover hovers
and reveals his mystic boon.

I saw a wonderful portrait
that of Dorian Gray
an irresistible attraction
though I try not as I may
it offers a moment of pleasure
and thousand years in chains
but in the end I’ve realized
it’s not even worth the pain

now I hold a treasure
though broken it has been
I would love to fit the pieces
so its beauty can be seen
tiresome as it may be
but joy is greater still
for there is no greater beauty
than fixing a broken wings.

Though I see no fallen ember leaves
to light my afternoon
and glide in the dark of night
to see Mr. Moon
I hold the fairest treasure
which others have not seen
in the stillness and in silence
to which I have been.

*much is seen by the light of the moon that wherever it hits his moonbeam you’ll see the furrow.