Sometime last May I sprinkled my prose with blue sands from above and carved a couple of bright stars into my arms Seven months has passed all seasons of the land have blown the sands far, far away, that when I look up for auroras in the night my mind could feel no cold an essence has been inhabited by the warm acceptance of his words, and though there’s nothing to latch on to, everything goes down deep and calm, and I’m alone still alone in my realm near a fading light asking all along, ‘Had he ever been mine?’
– geena, 10dec2018
my own photo from winter 2017
December lyrics
from the sparks of november
has surrendered love
to soft words and silver dusk
crossing heaven in its dark.
– geena 05dec2018 tanka
my own photo
Thoughts lined-up in sky
sweet mix of your heart and mine
–impenetrable
One or two of my major job problems have been somewhat solved so I’m feeling a bit relieved, kind of peaceful and ready to celebrate the coming festive season. In fact I’ve put up a few Christmas decors inside my workplace. At home, I continue the never-ending process of cleaning up, organizing, and discarding unneeded stuff. Yesterday while sorting out papers to throw away, I found a piece of paper my son had left four years ago — it contained a brief poem drafted by him, probably in high school (for class homework), as he wrote under its title “written by me.”
Relics and Remnants
Yes or No? — a question long unanswered by the man who seeks what has long been sought by Judas on his death. Is the Answer found on the beach where footprints are washed away by the unstoppable ocean? Or is it in the relics and remnants caused by the reason of the existence of the question? The Answer will not be found in the wronged, but in the wrongdoer, for the Answer lives, on the relics and remnants restored to their past glory? crumbled to dust? Yes or No?
Hm, I don’t want to dismiss my son’s composition as balderdash especially when I’m reminded of the fact I compelled him to read all the classics in the school’s library during his elementary years. Compared to me, he’s thousands of times more well-read and quite an excellent sophisticated writer. I wish this only child of mine had kept writing poems.
My nephew recently told me he’d seen my son’s active Linked In account and so I took a peek the night I learned about it. Yeah, it seems he still works in the same firm. He’s now the company’s product engineer, maybe a promotion from his previous role as senior design engineer. And he freelances as a technical writer, too. Big time. But he looks so so thin and frail in a group photo… I get worried but I try to stop myself from thinking and being concerned anymore. He has made his decision. To live his own life without me. So I’ll do the same for myself.
Meanwhile, there’s no time for me to hunt for worthwhile sites to read. I guess it means I should write more often — which is fine because writing gives me pleasure. I had really wanted a blog diary but I’d always fall by the wayside. Blog overhaul might be the answer.
***
I like the pic yet I’ve no record where I got it. Hope I won’t be sent to jail for this.
“There is some realm where feelings become birds and dark sky, and spirit is more solid than stone.”
The other day I almost couldn’t stop thinking up of lines that could pass for a poem. Somebody has got to stop me 😀 . Sometimes the process is a strain, sometimes a breeze. I’m entertained nonetheless. Wherever I am, when words come up that match my inner mood I take out my pen and jot them down. Then I arrange them as soon as I find some free time. My consistent aim is self-expression. I reread my work the day after when the feeling has subsided — and I go “well what did I just write…” 🙂
image from czech the count, Tumbler
And it always comes down to how I must unlove you despite what my heart scribbles over your arts in motion that sense each sunrise, each sunset glowing in their unfiltered light colorful down your deepest desires. it’s more than what I owe more than I can handle, when in your absence I rise to wander, to see and feel what’s been lost in the sky has spread wide to the sea.
– geena, 24nov2018
my own photo (europe winter 2017)
you define what’s never
been understood
the layers of my longings
the sweetest metaphor
the pearl in my verse
an eternity I can believe in
from a dream that’s
mine to cling to, mine to keep
no one have I kissed more deeply
in this silent field
where I run by my feelings
and nothing else.
The past few days had me writing again. These were originally published on my Tumbler site. No need to reveal who had been on my mind when I scribbled them. Now you understand what I was talking about in my last post. I need to write something. And I’m not finished with my poetic attempts.
Let no sullen song uninspire me
my allegiance to art
needs no intervention
feelings fade, lyrics do not
there’s much to write
about life, about love
I want light over darkness
dreams over sadness
illusions aren’t worthless
if they move spirits
from fragile to strength
timid to wild
Beyond convention
and proper fiction
my words are ready to fly.
– geena, 26oct2018
Your light keeps drawing me to this place
I’d long decided to leave.
Somehow your journey remains my spark.
I wish I could kiss your loneliness away, I can’t.
I wish I could wipe away your apprehensions, I never can.
But I’ve pulled you into my arms
Embraced you in all your imperfections and uncertainties.
I look up to see the widening sky, growing brighter…
the entire heaven has nestled within my arms.
Don’t take them seriously. I’ve had the most pleasure on my lyrical attempts, though. And I’m sharing them here. 😀
For every stirring line that i write
for every radiant sun that has set
my heights will reach for no end.
As I’m no Virginia
I could only remain one
and simple for you.
– geena, may8,2018, revised journal entry
Bright gentle moonlight
shape to his shy wild stanzas
touching one’s secrets
shining down my fresh sonnets
glow in me forevermore
– geena, tanka, june2018
When I slowly run my fingers on every part of your face my past, my present and future open up within your eyes I recall the taste of honey and the sensation of a teenage love I am more and more mesmerized by the swaying greens on trees You know my hungers and thirsts without sudden retreat for they both rise with the sun and fly with those doves My lips reach for yours and their soft touch will surrender to the waters of the river and the ballads of the spring. I’ll write you a letter from my heart and the flowers will always be in bloom From where your sweet arms wrap around me, I can stop fighting with my fate because your kisses have already taken me home.
– geena, 23june2018
If I could name the pure fragrance from my fingers that touched your face, my plush words to build this realm would be complete. Like timeless pieces of myself I would like you to have, they will linger through the lungs of our lyrical breaths.
– geena, 22may2018
My story gets written and the world will listen for the deeds of my past were all rain, all wind, all sun. I’ll find you in my dreams and my diction will be clear all good, so pure, so real. With my salvation on love from songs all night long I feel fully alive, but I’m not sure if I’ll truly be alright.
– geena, 21june2018
Across the light of the earth giving birth to this hour I hold your hand firm against the wall of my heart; I meet the arrow of your gaze spreading life in me and the morning smiles all around; full of joy over a love being blessed by the prince of the sun.
– geena, 11june2018
Tagaytay city, feb 2018
orange cream at dusk
full blend of deep elegance
stretching heaven’s worth
— geena, june 2017
Bohemian Sentiments 
