Elegy to Madness in the Silence of the Grave
Break upon me gently the passing song of my life, its conquests and falls, its truth and lies,
Foretell the fate of my soul, as death seizes my human breath which withers the cast wherein my soul slumbers,
Show me the madness on which my life was lived, the stupor of desire, the vivid rage, the unfaith of heaven, and the frenzy of hell within,
Madness of things, madness done in solace or madness in hordes, madness uttered in words and actions, and madness by intent,
As breath fades, utter a curse for my madness upon the grave, so it may not possess another mortal soul.
Madness, may none be inspired, may none be dazed, for madness ravages the soul in death, and even beyond death,
For Madness will suffer in eternal agony and with it, the maddened soul………
Between the Spaces of You and Me
How far does the distance go or how near does it need to be,
for my words to reach your ears, my touch to feel your face,
my imaginings of splendor and of insane thoughts,
wished by those in love, to reach your dreams,
to take hold of you,
to grasp you and be in you
and never let go for fear that once it may lose its hold,
it may never get hold of you again….
My thoughts and acts traverse a wilderness,
a wasteland wherein they might be lost,
forgotten as time passes its course, never said of, and never done,
never reaching you for they fear the unknown,
fear of the shadows of not being listened to and never being understood.
They are vanished by my own doubts,
as I am too is vanished,
for my actions and emotions are left to wither in the valley unheard of…
I would rather have them hidden or all the better lost,
lost together in the spaces between you and me,
For no matter how near or far these spaces may become or will become,
for if even my emotions and thoughts find their way out of seclusion,
you will never listen, never take heed of their cry to be known.
I lay in the glimmer of my four walls,
writing these words,
and again they will be lost in the burning embers of the spaces between you and me…
As dust gathers, they will be like ancient memory that I keep in the archives within…
To gaze upon air in the silence of midnight,
to watch the moon above grains of sand and marvel its reflection on water,
and to wander my eyes as the flow of the river rushes amidst the rocks in broad daylight,
Scenes of silence, moments of repose in a senseless world,
to watch beauty amid the insanity that seizes the world we live in,
hopeless thoughts and aspirations expressed in lexis and poetry,
Nothing but a poet wishes to dream, to hope,
to wish within idle moments, to chant thoughts,
embrace darkness and light,
to merge opposites through pen and paper,
Idyllic Thoughts, to recline from the whims of the world,
from the insanity that grips the gravel to the skies above.
The Poetry of Hamlet if He was a Sales Chat Agent
To be or not to be that is the question,
to fret and brandish my sword on the undying queue,
or to sleep and snore if none emerge as I begin the day,
The horror of the colors green, violet, red and blue,
which make me bang my mouse and curse a Patel or two,
Of bashed keyboards and tattered rodents,
of anguish and despair, of waning patience,
that makes my blood fly to Timbuktu,
Fury, of seething and grinding anger, I wait for the morrow,
sleep a few hours or so,
a begin another day, as I curse more Patels the next day,
Rage is set for the day, laughing and crying for there is literally nothing I can do,
Yet I always end my day smiling as I always do.
To be or not to be, that is the question.
Pun intended……don’t take this seriously.
Nursery Rhymes to Share when I grow old
Clickty Clack Clickty Clack, look what came out of the session box,
not a melody and not a happy tone
but the sound of rings which makes me mangle myself and cry in a monotone,
Look what’s here and look what’s there,
grab your bow and grab your arrow,
for we all have three sessions in a row,
Grab the mouse, grab a door, grab your seatmate,
and let’s all throw them on the PC monitor,
Clickty Clack Clickty Clack, when I grow old, I will be ever bold,
to teach my grandkids this aggravating code.
Just to brighten your day….humor amidst the undying queue….
By Juan F. Mendoza
Tok! Tok! Tok! Heto na ako parang may katok,
damit ko’y tiyak na papatok,
Tagpi tagpi man pero mukhang rebel ang aking look,
parang usong socialite look,
at nakikinig pa ako sa mga kanta ni David Cook.
Ayala, Mega, Glorietta, Shangrila,
kahit saan ako pwedeng gumala,
dala dala ko pa ang aking mga bote’t lata,
Mundo ko ay umiikot sa Manila,
dungis ko ay parang mukha ng lungsod,
pero kahit anong gawin nila andyan pa rin patawa tawa,
Taong Grasa, isip ng iba,
wala akong kapag-a pag-asa,
pero sabi ko, pakialam ko sa kanila,
masaya ako sa aking pagiging taong grasa,
Pa easy easy sa aking masayang mundo at walang sumbat sa kantiyaw ng iba,
Di katulad sa taong dilat na’t gutom, pa Starbucks Starbucks pa,
Heto ako, ang bagong makata, isang taong grasa.
Wakeful around the bolted doors within, rapture amidst my prison,
Enamored by my shackles, hiding between the voids, never wanting to be seen by you,
I detest the moments of your presence, it pains me, like holding wind, feeling yet never grasping,
lost after a wily gesture, parting with such bitter memories.
I would rather hide, flee at the sight of your shadow,
than be engulfed by hopeless thoughts, bleak yearning, and shattered optimism.
Rather than be there, I would be here, imprisoned, in shackles by my own pride,
To not see sunsets and sunrises within dark halls,
Than to see them in liberty with longing for you to be at the my side,
Hoping, dreaming, and wishing, for the beautiful wind to pass me by,
To be again lost…..
To be again left alone…
To be again left in greater sadness…