BYGONE

All alone I saw the set of the sun,

'twas still blazing like the roadrunners run.

Wandering thoughts from a pilgrim within.

Watched what's the next connection from what's been.

Teardrops to my cheek;

a hungry brain and a heart so sick.

And all alone I saw the set of the sun;

it seemed from me, it shunned.

Busybodies all around so stressed;

the nagging of a whole day's non-rest,

to learn and to earn stipend,

remuneration from a moil's spent.

I got weary and left alone.

Playing with leaves wind-blown.

But never mind, they never mind

just intoxicating but never mind...

Tilted head I stared again...

Beneath those canopy a yen.

It shouted and roared through my nerves;

and bounced back the earth's curves.

Red roses and white ones,

I want those mine be mine at once.

With tilted head I stared again...

Yet they're not coming back again.

The dust covered the mobile clouds;

chain of islets along with mounts.

I could not see anything the least

just tinted chain on my wrist.

I didn't understand the fall,

I fell several times before.

But what hurt the most was that --

the last fall with gore so glut.

The rain dropped as my wound bleed,

like over-poaching pain I can't get rid.

Over the escarpment and plateau

my mind kept wandering to and fro.

Wind whistled with rushing waves; I pry,

thunder rolled across the heavy sky.

Still the rain dropped as my wound bleed.

Melancholy. Silence. I pondered and ceased --

from everything that burdened me.

I stood alone --- Reality!

O! It tingled, flowed my veins..

no more sick heart and hungry brains.

I wiped the teardrops from my cheeks;

while sung the bird with yellow beak.

Apocryphal, yet it was true -

I learned living without you.

CHANGE --- was all thou can ever give.

Even I could never believe.

It's modern and possessed consistency.

Gradually, it'll be a part of the economy.

See through the cleat firmament;

I see my heart filled with content.

And change is what the world can give,

it bruised and caused a lot of grief!

Oblivious, but sure, I got pretty insane.

I don't used to waste my penny for useless cocaine.

But done were those days I cried,

I sat in the meadow -- deprived.

Along with the flowers alive,

they're dandelions revived!

Because now my sorrows all dead,

I buried them six feet, I said.

Long was the night but 'nconstant;

long was the hopeless wishing grant.

Sun rises, then it sets.

Life goes on, but with a lot of frets.

Life goes on -- with me alone.

Cold as the ambiance of the winter dawn,

yet long was the night but 'nconstant;

long was the helpless wishing grant.

Tomorrow I see a future so nigh

together with the years came by.

Let alone the blissful mem'ries I had

that pained me terribly bad.

Let alone those memories they stay,

until the time I come to lay.

In a sepulcher with wide array;

and, I'll whisper it was then OK.

And, I'll whisper soft and slow...

My past was worth my way to go.

Time is all we've got . . .

TIME is what it takes one to make another happy, one to make and complete another.

 

It takes one to change one's world , to change one's heart

 

It takes one to hurt another.

To inflict a wound so deep. It takes one,

 

to create a hole in another.

Just as one can hurt,

another can also heal. Comfort the broken, neglected.

 Match up the pieces with time.
In time one heals.

One longs, one stumbles and mourns.

In time one grows, becomes stronger, just as time passes.

Burning the old self

-in short, as time passes by, we change
as time passes, we heal
as time passes we continue to LIVE.

"TIME is what we need the most and what we wanted to have the most especially at times when we regret things the most!"

Vivon Nuay

A letter from a FORLORN child

There is so much gladness in my heart, yet nobody cares to wonder. 

I’ve been with myself for fourteen years now. I stayed in an orphanage where almost everyone bullied me, stamped me on my left foot, punched me on my head, said something rude about my parents. They don't know how I felt, why I've become so dull yet not frustrated. 

The rush of the wind tells me they love me, which they never wanted to desert me; they just have some sorts of privities they don’t like to discuss with me because even if they did, I still can’t and won’t understand. In every breath that I inhale and in every sound of the morning sunshine that rises me up something wants me to seize it and hold it by my hand, mark it on my head.

I scrunched it. Make myself feel hopeful and full of bliss.
 

At every air slapped in my face, I feel the desperation of their longing kiss and warm touch, afraid that one day, they might lose me because of my fragility but of course, I am not, it stayed as is on their thoughts because they love me.

I have chains of letters for them yet not mailed. Few of those were having the same content for the activities here which were perfunctory. Incessantly, I dream of my Pa and Ma together with their child (that's me). We did what normal family does. 

The touch of these dreams wary enough to tell me that it's true, that somehow deep within the realms of their hearts they want me too. I longed so much to breathe the vast bowl of the sky, to feel the jostle of the streets stretching my loose nerve - strings and quickening the flow of my blood. I love to be with them standing in the meadow, reaching out our hands and figuring out the music that comes from the dancing wind, which hits the tall grasses. There, across the brook, we, convulsed by merriment, listened to the cold breeze nourishing our hungry minds, repeating the words ‘we are one’.

Suddenly, realization came to play that I was alone today and will always be, I hope not.

Days would come that they'll come back to me, arranged everything that comforts me, straight things up, make the best to lay me down their protective arms, embraced their child gently and make up with all the wasted times I just watched the dark skies alone, sang the songs forlorn, and dreamed my dreams on my own.

 Ma and Pa, please bear with the obstinate time. 

I need you too. I'm your child.

Maureen 'URE' Ortega