Submissions by Alviola
POEMS AND SHORT STORIES
OBSERVATIONAL POEM
Published
3rd Jan 2022 10:16pm
3rd Jan 2022 10:16pm
The Racket at 7:00 o'clock Saturday Morning
I am roused by a drone,
if this alarm had a name,
it would be shatter,
I am roused and kept awake
by a pulsing, uneven drone.
And I ask,
'why do we cut grass, why do we lop the tops
of millions of the perfectly evolved?
Each spear slopes in a sensual bend to the sky,
each a pair, respecting God’s scoring in a middle.
I am roused by blade abrupting blades,
While I hear but one side of a conversation,
the side of the mower, I suspect the other
-- the side of the leaves -- far noisier.
I...
if this alarm had a name,
it would be shatter,
I am roused and kept awake
by a pulsing, uneven drone.
And I ask,
'why do we cut grass, why do we lop the tops
of millions of the perfectly evolved?
Each spear slopes in a sensual bend to the sky,
each a pair, respecting God’s scoring in a middle.
I am roused by blade abrupting blades,
While I hear but one side of a conversation,
the side of the mower, I suspect the other
-- the side of the leaves -- far noisier.
I...
#nature
#wisdom
233 reads
2 Comments
OBSERVATIONAL POEM
Published
30th Dec 2021 4:41am
30th Dec 2021 4:41am
Violence without Sound
With eyes hardly open, I watch a video
of a man cooking but sans the sound.
Knife drumming on the chopping board,
bacon screaming as it skates
onto the preheated cast iron pan,
I can hear but with my eyes.
Everyone in the house is asleep as the hour
is a pleasure I steal from the world.
It is past midnight, and before
the second Christmas of a Pandemic,
and after a typhoon knocked homes
as you would chess pieces off the table crossly.
Typhoon Rai pelted rooftops with boats,
spent what people saved...
of a man cooking but sans the sound.
Knife drumming on the chopping board,
bacon screaming as it skates
onto the preheated cast iron pan,
I can hear but with my eyes.
Everyone in the house is asleep as the hour
is a pleasure I steal from the world.
It is past midnight, and before
the second Christmas of a Pandemic,
and after a typhoon knocked homes
as you would chess pieces off the table crossly.
Typhoon Rai pelted rooftops with boats,
spent what people saved...
#storm
#wind
#Christmas
253 reads
2 Comments
UPBEAT INSPIRATIONAL POEM
Published
25th Dec 2021 12:21pm
25th Dec 2021 12:21pm
There was a Bristling in the Air
It was palpable in palaces and in hovels
unnamed, expected but by a few
the hair on the arm of the signet ringed
stood on ends, his throne shimmied and creaked,
ay, the mighty slept twitchily that night
the wise whispered, and then made ready
A wraith requiring obeisance hushed herds
subdued swarms, becalmed packs and prides.
The poor, out in pasture, living gaunt
looked up and saw a sky ablaze
and though with knotted brows, hearts heard.
A child was born, a revolution had begun.
unnamed, expected but by a few
the hair on the arm of the signet ringed
stood on ends, his throne shimmied and creaked,
ay, the mighty slept twitchily that night
the wise whispered, and then made ready
A wraith requiring obeisance hushed herds
subdued swarms, becalmed packs and prides.
The poor, out in pasture, living gaunt
looked up and saw a sky ablaze
and though with knotted brows, hearts heard.
A child was born, a revolution had begun.
#hope
#inspirational
#Christian #healing
#Christian #healing
444 reads
9 Comments
LOVE POEM
Published
13th Dec 2021 9:31am
13th Dec 2021 9:31am
It is not the Heart the Part that Loves
While the pain is sufficiently sharp
that you clutch at your chest
and you try to still the thumping,
it is not the heart the part that loves,
that sees past bedroom walls,
kites through skies above miles.
It is not the heart the part
that chins the beggar palm all day,
the gland that spits words dungeon dry,
tucks his picture under your skin.
Never mind the concave mood of chest,
It is not the heart the part that loves.
that you clutch at your chest
and you try to still the thumping,
it is not the heart the part that loves,
that sees past bedroom walls,
kites through skies above miles.
It is not the heart the part
that chins the beggar palm all day,
the gland that spits words dungeon dry,
tucks his picture under your skin.
Never mind the concave mood of chest,
It is not the heart the part that loves.
#love
#loneliness
#heartbroken
#emptiness
#bittersweet
254 reads
2 Comments
MISCELLANEOUS POEM
Published
5th Dec 2021 8:18pm
5th Dec 2021 8:18pm
Carrying Burdens
A cavan of rice, after it is swung
and flung onto shoulders, will obey
and conform to the build of the bearer,
The rice inside will yield to the shape,
to the avoiding nape and the dip
between clavicle and scapula,
You embrace the bulk as if it were a body,
the rice is noisy, crunching as you move,
as you huff and hurry to a rising pile.
I remember the cavan as a young man
quivering like a leaf under the cargo
focused on bringing it to destination.
Ay, but today’s burdens are leaden, ...
and flung onto shoulders, will obey
and conform to the build of the bearer,
The rice inside will yield to the shape,
to the avoiding nape and the dip
between clavicle and scapula,
You embrace the bulk as if it were a body,
the rice is noisy, crunching as you move,
as you huff and hurry to a rising pile.
I remember the cavan as a young man
quivering like a leaf under the cargo
focused on bringing it to destination.
Ay, but today’s burdens are leaden, ...
#depression
#LifeCycle
#aging #weakness
#aging #weakness
202 reads
2 Comments
LOVE POEM
Published
28th Nov 2021 9:04am
28th Nov 2021 9:04am
The Home Alone is in Pain
It creaks open with a humph
and a downturned lip,
the greeting of a house
left uninhabited,
like a gumamela past its bloom,
the house sulks and shrinks,
it pulls a face more felt than seen,
and disassembles,
the hardest of hardwoods darken
to a pout, tegula roof tiles bought
with the promise of 'for life'
slide off and fall,
the sulk is subdued when you are there,
though you might hear a grumble
in the pipes, a painting decides to leap
from its...
and a downturned lip,
the greeting of a house
left uninhabited,
like a gumamela past its bloom,
the house sulks and shrinks,
it pulls a face more felt than seen,
and disassembles,
the hardest of hardwoods darken
to a pout, tegula roof tiles bought
with the promise of 'for life'
slide off and fall,
the sulk is subdued when you are there,
though you might hear a grumble
in the pipes, a painting decides to leap
from its...
#anger
#loneliness
#betrayal
#MovingOn
#IMissYou
218 reads
4 Comments
MISCELLANEOUS POEM
Published
29th Aug 2021 7:30pm
29th Aug 2021 7:30pm
The tree in the park beside my house is a she-devil
The caimito tree
dances coquettishly,
her leaves rippling like
a flamenco skirt
“this is my green side
and this is my brown”.
She winks, “Come hither,
old man, bring a chair,
come stay in my shade,
hear my tireless whisper,
out here, in my park,
wisdom is unwelcome.
“The sun has not shone
on you for quite a while,
you grew into the house,
window jambs dented
deep into your arms,
your back has the bend
of the rocking chair,
your eyes welded to screens.
“You...
dances coquettishly,
her leaves rippling like
a flamenco skirt
“this is my green side
and this is my brown”.
She winks, “Come hither,
old man, bring a chair,
come stay in my shade,
hear my tireless whisper,
out here, in my park,
wisdom is unwelcome.
“The sun has not shone
on you for quite a while,
you grew into the house,
window jambs dented
deep into your arms,
your back has the bend
of the rocking chair,
your eyes welded to screens.
“You...
#sadness
#loneliness
#pandemic
327 reads
2 Comments
ANGER POEM
Published
27th Aug 2021 11:29pm
27th Aug 2021 11:29pm
There should never be too many activists
There should never be many activists,
too much salt swamps the mouth, wasabi
should only tickle, the sashimi
should almost only smell the soy sauce.
We have watched that one ant going left
and right and lost, we have chalked it in,
drawn borders around its neighborhood,
played with where it can and cannot go,
monster fingers shrink its universe
with moisture from the warm beer bottle,
the small thing sniffs at the...
too much salt swamps the mouth, wasabi
should only tickle, the sashimi
should almost only smell the soy sauce.
We have watched that one ant going left
and right and lost, we have chalked it in,
drawn borders around its neighborhood,
played with where it can and cannot go,
monster fingers shrink its universe
with moisture from the warm beer bottle,
the small thing sniffs at the...
#corruption
#oppression
#HumanRights
#inequality
#poverty
367 reads
7 Comments
SELF POEM
Published
22nd Aug 2021 7:47pm
22nd Aug 2021 7:47pm
A neon billboard near where I grew up
It would flicker to life at the dimming of the day,
then it would start its imperious blinking,
watch over the hours of faraway cab horns,
and cast light on the wide-eyed and worried.
No building stood behind this giant of a sign,
high, as gods were high, neon at the junction
of a main thoroughfare and a small road,
as if nailed to a tree you could not see:
Coca-Cola
breathing red, like a police car, like a God
Intermittent, there and then not there, ...
then it would start its imperious blinking,
watch over the hours of faraway cab horns,
and cast light on the wide-eyed and worried.
No building stood behind this giant of a sign,
high, as gods were high, neon at the junction
of a main thoroughfare and a small road,
as if nailed to a tree you could not see:
Coca-Cola
breathing red, like a police car, like a God
Intermittent, there and then not there, ...
#loneliness
#teens
#despair #disappointment
#despair #disappointment
373 reads
2 Comments
OBSERVATIONAL POEM
Published
10th Aug 2021 7:49pm
10th Aug 2021 7:49pm
Deferring the Hangover
There is no hangover when you stay under,
shrink from the savagery above the water,
If you must break the surface, be the crocodile,
with an eye and a blink and not a ripple.
Stay down and drink, country can crash,
carouse and clink, love the girl summoning with lash,
pick fights or arm-wrestle, or stay beer taciturn,
and you can listen and watch the world burn.
Stay down and you will not hear the guns plinking,
they do not pause when you come up for painkillers,
bullets tick bodies off like check marks, they jerk ...
shrink from the savagery above the water,
If you must break the surface, be the crocodile,
with an eye and a blink and not a ripple.
Stay down and drink, country can crash,
carouse and clink, love the girl summoning with lash,
pick fights or arm-wrestle, or stay beer taciturn,
and you can listen and watch the world burn.
Stay down and you will not hear the guns plinking,
they do not pause when you come up for painkillers,
bullets tick bodies off like check marks, they jerk ...
#sadness
#despair
#apathy
419 reads
3 Comments
OBSERVATIONAL POEM
Published
9th Aug 2021 2:07am
9th Aug 2021 2:07am
Faces against Names
They wear the names I know from long ago,
surnames, for that is how young boys are hailed,
I come to an inch of their faces, breathe their breath,
peer into mailbox slits in search of old friends.
I can not find this classmate whose name I know
was beside me alphabetically
on wooden desks scored deep with the words
of lecherous lads and physics formulae.
I see hot afternoons under lazy black fans,
chairs with worn glides shrieking when moved
on...
surnames, for that is how young boys are hailed,
I come to an inch of their faces, breathe their breath,
peer into mailbox slits in search of old friends.
I can not find this classmate whose name I know
was beside me alphabetically
on wooden desks scored deep with the words
of lecherous lads and physics formulae.
I see hot afternoons under lazy black fans,
chairs with worn glides shrieking when moved
on...
#sadness
#betrayal
#aging
#disappointment
#nostalgia
322 reads
2 Comments
OBSERVATIONAL POEM
Published
6th Aug 2021 6:44pm
6th Aug 2021 6:44pm
Eyes in the noisy night
Here in the reddest street of Manila
where a cab once rammed into my car
the driver was gawking at the girls smoking
when they spilled out of the dark red-lit bars
from the road from my seat hands on the wheel,
I can peep into the red noise inside
one short skirt returns my stare long enough
to make me honk at the cars stopped ahead
there is a tingling to the nights here
where writers walk by busy in their frowns
Nick Joaquin, Ding Nolledo, we flag them
down like cabs, offer them a drink or ten
in the reddest street of...
where a cab once rammed into my car
the driver was gawking at the girls smoking
when they spilled out of the dark red-lit bars
from the road from my seat hands on the wheel,
I can peep into the red noise inside
one short skirt returns my stare long enough
to make me honk at the cars stopped ahead
there is a tingling to the nights here
where writers walk by busy in their frowns
Nick Joaquin, Ding Nolledo, we flag them
down like cabs, offer them a drink or ten
in the reddest street of...
#oppression
#LifeStruggles
#manipulation
230 reads
3 Comments
DU Poetry : Submissions by Alviola
