Separation musings…… a free verse

Source: “Separation Angst” at FanStory.com

my “nipa” hut

waited far too long

to welcome you

a ghost that haunted

my tortured sleep.

 

desperately, I wanted

more than a shadow

of this carefree ghost

whose air I breathed

confined in the dark room

of this forgotten hut…..

my bedroom.

 

but this bed badly ached

for an elusive dream

that you couldn’t be

sadly, I knew that.

 

how many more days

would I endure this torment

the nights were far longer

as minutes moved in circles,

I hated my skin of solitude

but touching this bed

was the only memory I had.

 

the pain burned

deep on my pillows

as the lure of your spell

faded every hour

where everyday melted

painfully with time.

 

woefully, the wrecked walls

have learned what silence was

as the door shut itself

your handsome face

blurred and disfigured,

finally joined the funeral

of my lost memories.

 

This is a free verse to reflect my musings on ghost memories of a distant past, ( part conjecture and part truth).  Minimum capitalization and punctuation. just letting the words rush over the readers.

liar

do not dare touch

this sacred nakedness,

you know, I’d rather be mated

fully clothed with a heart

than lay with lies

in your eyes

do not lie.

 

foolish

don’t think I am blind

the edges of this body

feed fantasies you never had.

yet…..

I loathe the fact

that mating after all

is not a question of the heart

but a primal task

of forced sperm

fool me not.

 

This is s free verse giving in to the stirrings of imagination on the theme of deception. Minimum capitalization and punctuation. Rhymes if any, are incidental.  I believe deception is a sly fox that breeds too, in the bedroom. Thanks Google images for the picture used in this piece.

“A  5/7/5 poem has three lines and follows the structure of a haiku. The first line has five syllables, the second line has seven syllables and the third line also has five syllables.”(FanStory.com)  This is a free form which can be about anything and the only restriction is the syllable count.  The picture was sourced from Google images. Published at FanStory.com 1/16/2018: Copyright2018.nassus1957(susan)

clouds dimmed five times more

rain rammed hard like ice needles

drowning a war song.

We all engage in routine musings and this is my personal impression of office work on Mondays.  The poem is not interested in rhyming schemes, punctuation and capitalization is at minimum.  A free form of expression and simply letting the words flow.

MONDAY   BLUES

gravity mourns

where faces drop sad

with uniformed boredom,

the hooked hangers

witness the casual exit

of stilettos and suits,

these office deadweights

and routine errands

on a blue Monday.

Posted at FanStory.com1/16/2018

Chronicling my poetic journey through the years either lifted raw from my handwritten work or edited from my FanStory poetic posts and finally shared in this blog at random dates. 

 Seared Love        

not many knew this longing

this clogged heart whimpering

sifting through the page cinders

the ashes of lost years

not even the skin of anguish

will fully clothe this seared heart

as pain haunts sleep

and old feelings die

till new, take root.

Posted at FanStory.com7/13/2013

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

The Strip is the heart and show window of Las Vegas, where mega resorts go all out showcasing  striking displays of festive decorations.  One such festival that draws in the most number of guests  is the celebration of the 2018 Chinese Lunar New Year, which happens to be the year of the Earth Dog.  “This is also known as the Spring Festival in China, which is the longest and the most important festivity in  in the Chinese Lunar Calendar”.(Vegas24SEven.com)

My daughter and I were headed off on our way to Bellagio Conservatory and Botanical Gardens. There was a slight drizzle then and heavy traffic had slowed down our trip. Pia hates driving on four or five way lanes and that scared me a bit.  Who would want a car accident at the opening of the year?  Obviously, that’s  not in my list of priorities for the new year.  “Maybe, we should have opted for a more quiet area and less visited by tourists”,  I told her.  “Mom, we are almost there and this minor delay will not  in any way deter us to  view the most visited display at the Las Vegas Strip, at Bellagio”,  she insisted.  We reached the Conservatory at exactly five minutes before two in the afternoon.  Pia was right, the Chinese New Year display at Bellagio was a sight to behold.

As we entered the Conservatory through the East Garden, we walked with people in droves under a circular dome draped in thousands of red roses, yellow fonsythia  and white orchids. At the edge of the garden, there are ancestral vessels, where visitors can burn incense, which are believed by many Chinese to help protect people from bad fortune. The whole dome is lined with four flowing fountains and the fifth fountain at the center of the  main display area  (which also serves as a walkway)  is filled with giant I-Ching coins.  The centerpiece of the whole display features eighteen “larger-than-life” dogs to fit the “doggy theme” of the year.  What really grabbed my attention is an “18-foot” huge, Siberian husky dog which stands guard on top of a mountain overflowing with Chinese coins.  Chinese lanterns with intricate designs provide exquisite illumination and guide the visitors as they take pictures near the dog replica displays.  Gazing at the awesome, giant Cherry Blossom Trees,  I could only whisper at the amount of money spent for such an amazing yet extravagant spectacle.  According to the exhibitors, about 22,000  flowers were used and will continue to be displayed during the duration of the exhibit until March 3, 2018.  I  could only conjecture that the income to be generated from this stunning yet lavish display  will far outweigh  such waste of  nature.

 

 

Last week I awoke at sunrise on a bright and sunny day.  It was my daughter’s day-off and she was up earlier than me by almost one hour. I never knew Pia could be full of surprises.  Unceremoniously, she dropped her big plan for the day. “Mom, grab a reliable jacket as well as a pair of sturdy hiking shoes.  Don’t forget to wear protective hat and sunglasses, pamper your skin with sunblock cream and bring bottled water, too. Chewee, my Shih Tzu, will join us in exploring the sights of Red Rock Canyon today”.

Well, I don’t really like unprepared trips especially on such a short notice.  But who can decline an inviting break and a tempting diversion from nurturing my writing muse in between household chores and walking the dog twice daily for almost two months now.  Not that I am complaining, I enjoy housework, my daily exercise with Chewee  and writing my poetry collection, of which I am passionate about.  I am happy to be a mother again, which I have missed and have been absent for over a decade.  I was never really there for my daughter, for I have worked all my life being married to a lazy husband (that was an understatement) and eventually being separated from him for 19 long years.  Thus, I have assumed more, the role of a father and provider rather than that of a doting, homebody Mom.  I definitely don’t want to miss this bonding opportunity with my daughter.  So, off we went in Pia’s Lexus, with her on the wheel and Chewee by my lap.  It was a short 30-minute drive from Summerlin, Nevada to the first stop at the Red Rock Canyon Fee Station.

The Red Rock Canyon National Conservation Area……. In Brief

“Red Rock Canyon is one of the top five climbing destinations in the United States. It has some of the best sights and experiences the Mojave Desert has to offer”. (Red Rock Canyon Visitor Guide, 2018)

There are about 2,000 climbing routes in the area, mostly located on White Rock Mountain, Rainbow Mountain Wilderness and the La Madre Mountain Wilderness. On top of these rock climbing adventures, are the 25 hiking trails, for those who prefer the trek within and in-between canyons and for those who enjoy soaking under direct sunlight.  Hikers are usually advised at the entrance to wear comfy shoes that will provide ankle stability and protection against cactus spines. Hats, sunscreen and at least a gallon of water are must-haves in the course of the trail-hike, for the Red Rock’s temperature can go as high as 100 degrees Fahrenheit.  Danger also lurks in some trails for desert dwellers like deadly rattlesnakes and venomous scorpions or spiders may take shelter under boulders, rocks and shrubs.

The Scenic Drive ………….. Our Choice

Pia’s final decision was to explore the sights of Red Rock Canyon by car.  I guess we have no better option, for despite the thrills of mountain climbing and the exciting experience of a trail-hike, the dangers that await for newbies like us, far outweigh our desire to try the said activities. The Scenic Drive is a 13-mile one way only, roadway, where travelers can enjoy the scenery by car, as they drive to several overlooks, park at designated lots complete with recreational amenities and facilities, camp at picnic areas or simply enjoy the walk and take pictures on selected red rock formations accessible by the road. Visitor’s pass costs only about $7 dollars to be paid at the Fee Station, which is good for the whole day and will also serve as the re-entry pass within the said day.

Personal Impressions

Starting our drive through the Scenic Drive Loop, we were treated with the magical wonders of amazing red rock formations nestled on top of each other, some piled like orange pancakes while others hang like funky red boulders pasted on the side of the mountain.  This area is known as the Sandstone Quarry where the whole side of the mountain is a vast expanse of red-orange boulders.  Here, the sightseers can take pictures while standing or sitting on rock slabs or just testing the space between cramped boulders.  Looking at the barren mountains. It felt like “deja vu” as if I was surrounded by the same bald, tree-less mountains of Oman, where I used to teach Foundation classes and had been my kind host for four years from 2013 to September 2017.  The striking difference however is that Oman mountains are generally grayish-brown while the Red Rock Mountains have that red-orange hue very similar to the color of the setting sun in Manila Bay, Philippines.  The lively colorful shade of the mountain made it look alive at the distance.

Our final stop was the High Point Overlook which has an elevation of 4,771 feet above sea level.   At this point, I felt lost against the euphoric blue edges of the sky.

Being amateur photographers though, the photos above did not do justice to the actual color of the Red Rock Mountain, but they are lasting memories of our bonding moments as mother and daughter, as we catch up with the lost years, being separated by distance and different time zones.  This, I believe is the prize of working in foreign lands in our search for a new life and our quest for financial freedom.  Finally, Pia and I are together, reunited while it lasts, as better opportunities wait for me testing the employment grounds and setting my sights on improving my senior years’ purchasing power.

Love and hatred are two strong emotions at work in the war of two forces, (good and evil) in a never-ending battle of losing and winning. Delving on love and hate issues, I am always reminded of Ronald Peat, a fellow Poets member, at LinkedIn who espouses a radical idea that love once it is given, remains given. He explained further that the intimacy remains imprinted on both partners and all the hate, anger, disappointment or denial thereof will not dissipate love at all. Ronald insists that the scar of love is left on both partners forever and will never be forgotten.

Ronald’s argument sounded logical and reasonable. But I don’t buy it. Consider for example the story of Sanya, a woman pining for her lost memories, when she married a man who never learned to grow up. A man, whose fetish was only himself, who derived pleasure in idleness and who will find all the flimsy excuses not to work.  It was a dead union, frozen with distrust and bitter fights from the start.  Being married however, in a remote, macho community where idle husbands were tolerated and separated wives were frowned upon as sinners, Sanya remained in bondage for 22 years with the same insensitive child-adult.

By some grand design and miracle from above, Sanya finally mustered the courage to escape from that doomed marriage.  But the scar of emotional and physical abuse, was too deep to purge her battered heart of the trauma, that it took her several years to recover and get back her self-esteem.

In this particular case, I am inclined to explore an argument to negate Ronald’s claim on the subject of love.  At the outset I agree that a scar is left on both partners forever.  That’s for sure.  But I strongly believe that we need to define first the parameters as to whom the scar rightfully belongs.  In whose scar are we talking about anyway?  Are we going to define it from the eyes of the oppressor or the victim, the prey or the predator, the abused or the abuser?

When women become victims of cocky partners salivating in their machismo on an endless loop, I don’t think women will even have the luxury of time to remember why on earth did they fall in love.  When women lived in terror of pain, scarred by brutal beatings, discouraged by verbal abuse and weighted down by fear, the lasting imprint on their soul is no longer love. Whatever is left of that love once shared, will metastasize to hatred.

As always, casual observers will take separation as a sad ending. But for Sanya, it is a fresh beginning. Experts however say that the healing process and full recovery from that dark imprint will be excruciatingly painful and slow. The good news is that all painful experiences have built-in rewards that will inspire victims to move on.  Emotion gurus are of the opinion that only when the soul is broken and bruised can one fully comprehend the whole idea of wholeness. That, I believe is a consolation which has energized most abused victims to heal themselves eventually.  Nota bene (note well).

Call me stubborn if you must, but I just don’t bite the bait served on the hook that easily. Neither am I swayed by a propaganda even if they are backed up by a strong mass support from popular organized groups or have been made legitimate by consistent media exposure.  I believe, despite the media’s selective bias and longer exposure to groups aligned to their narrative, I honestly feel I am entitled to the hallowed right of my own personal analysis of events.  I am confident, despite the media’s version of protests which always focus on mayhem and violence among conservative rallies while keeping a blind eye to the Left’s agenda of riot, looting and burning buildings, I still believe my freedom of expression (as opposed to the Left’s “group think”) will be respected.  I adhere to the idea that those voices crying the loudest on the streets, do not necessarily mean, they are telling the truth.  They are there to sell a story, manipulated by their puppet masters through a reward system that only they know in furtherance of a hidden agenda.

Talking of discerning the difference between a ploy and a valid concern, I could only look back to my old college days, way back in Manila during the late 70’s.  I tried those clenched fists once, as young, impulsive girls were vulnerable to experiment, but I did not like what I saw.  Why would anyone ever think of throwing empty chairs, to echo agitated sentiments on tuition fee increase, when too many controversial issues have been resolved anyway through civilized dialogue, where cooler heads and logic prevail?  I just cannot see myself promoting hatred, seeing only the faults and sins of a perceived enemy, except themselves. I cannot go home to that tunnel again.  I don’t want to sound like a preacher here.  The truth is, my Christian faith saved me, and I ask some understanding from the people of other faiths.  It is really a question of loving your fellowmen, brothers or sisters, across all genders, (in the real sense of the word), irrespective of political affiliations and persuasions.  This is the real test of Christianity, to love one another as you would love oneself.  Indeed, love is like a cold water on hot heads and will thaw even the coldest heart.  Yes, to love, there is no other path but homeward to Jesus and you can bet on that.