Monday, October 31, 2022

travel diary (+12 hr time difference)


i smell the green of tropical plants

under the unrelenting sun

humid air


grilled seasoned meats,

rice rolled sweets, coconut-sugar treats

one scary note was

driving the car & sharing the road

with motorcycles bee-swarming

left and right-

you get roller coaster nightmare- 

Red Hibiscus

Posted for dVerse Poets Pub - Quadrille, hosted by De Jackson.   The selected word is SCARE, to be written in 44 words.  My post is a bit different from the Halloween theme, but its a scary reality when driving around the Philippines (and other Asian countries).   Join us when the pub doors open at 3pm EST.  

Thursday, October 6, 2022

the bassist


unfinished music sheets & riffs

untied laces on messy floor 

unhurried words, disconnected  

unguarded, you could have fooled me

music is your pill, oxygen 

muffling all the suttered sadness

muscles uncoil, your fingers fly

mutiny of blues & fire storm

Posted for dVerse Poets Pub - Using the head rhymes in the Traditional Mongolian Meter.   Join us when the pub doors open at 3pm

Tuesday, October 4, 2022

the beats of the city

this city is a chameleon

one day, it is silver granite with shiny buildings

one summer dusk, it is festive & noisy with tourist buses

one October night, it is artsy, soulful with balloons & stage lights

one winter night, it is pristine snow & mud, booming with silence


blue-draped by Lake Ontario

this is an entry port for immigrants, 

a nook to find one's space & voice

a stairway to higher ambitions & studies

yet this city can be a deathbed

indifferent to the calluses of one's labor

a rusty knife to those needled arms

hazy with alchohol addiction

a bitter soup to the lost & homeless prowling

the train stations for coins

for all that it is, colorful & flavorful 

a blend of many cultures & languages

a peaceful bounty to the endless flow of refugees-

it is a steady rock

to the hopefuls-

this city is filled with second & third chances-

there is redemption 

that is, if you didn't knock yourself out

in the first round

-accept the gifts of failures & learn from it-

over time

for me, this city becomes a boat 

laden with coats, blankets, music sheets, silk

& spices from all over the world-

you ride along its sails

& draw & redraw your own map

& when you are sick of the city lights,

there is a road up north, filled with apple trees

-perfect for star-gazing-

Posted for dVerse Poets Pub - Poetics:  Allen Ginsberg and The Beat Generation, Hosted by Sanaa Rizvi.  Join us when the pub doors open at 3pm EST.