Mga Tula Ni Musikero

Discussion in 'Poetry' started by Musikero, Jul 11, 2004.

  1. Musikero

    Musikero Lifetime Supporter Lifetime Supporter

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    5
    killing time is a hobby
    i've almost forgotten
    in the mad rush
    of busy days and nights,

    and the frenzy of running
    in the ratrace
    has given me temporary amnesia.
    i've almost forgotten

    what it's like to wake up
    late in the day,
    buried blissfully in soft pillows
    and blankets,

    and do nothing
    but nothing.
     
  2. littleskinny

    littleskinny Member

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    Big smiles! This is an old one I've read before, but still love it...especially as today is Monday and I have the week off!!!

    And I welcome the return of the Marlboro man too !
     
  3. KittenX

    KittenX Purrrific

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    That is a lovely poem and describes how I feel right now perfectly. (Though I wish I didn't feel this way!) Thumbs up!
     
  4. Musikero

    Musikero Lifetime Supporter Lifetime Supporter

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    5
    the burden of the daily grind
    is a million pounds less
    than your voice on the phone
    with the questions
    that beg to be asked
    and the uninvited memories
    that demand remembering

    ah numbness...blessed numbness!

    small talk is the highway to
    awkward conversation
    so i choose silence over words
    and i throw myself to the
    whirlwind of office hours
    that i be swallowed up
    tossed this way and that
    bruised but unfeeling

    am i still your friend?
    maybe...

    but the burden of the daily grind
    is a million pounds less
    than your voice on the phone.
     
  5. osiris

    osiris Senior Member

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    indeed, lest we forget: numbness is still a feeling.

    much love :)
     
  6. fulmah

    fulmah Chaser of Muses

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    this stanza is just brilliance! i relate so well, and each line is a finely wrought thing, images presented so sharp and eloquent use of language. this was quite the powerful piece, for me... thanks for sharing this gem!
     
  7. sylvanlightning

    sylvanlightning Prismatic Essence

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    Cheers. Wonderful sensitive work abounds here. So refreshing to hear a sincere heartsong.
     
  8. littleskinny

    littleskinny Member

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    that beginning and end is great! Good work, my friend!
     
  9. Musikero

    Musikero Lifetime Supporter Lifetime Supporter

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    Glad you all liked it. :)
     
  10. Musikero

    Musikero Lifetime Supporter Lifetime Supporter

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    5
    have coffee with me

    you in the smoke-filled cafe we both love
    i in this resort i now work in

    i in the middle of an ocean of trees
    you in the middle of a puddle of people

    i bet you're having cappuccino (with the cinnamon smiley face on top)
    smoking lucky strike after lucky strike
    your mind wandering

    i'm having instant coffee (i get it for free here)
    smoking lucky strike after lucky strike
    my mind wandering

    coffee and cigarettes in two places
    tonight i will dream of having
    coffee and cigarettes with you once more.


     
  11. Musikero

    Musikero Lifetime Supporter Lifetime Supporter

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    5
    here i sit
    the mountain air
    seeping under my denim jacket
    the nth cigarette
    burning slowly in my hand
    there are things to do
    plans to make
    a veritable sea of...ah but
    still!
    still i find myself
    mentally traveling
    back to yesterday
    when everything was possible
    and we could do anything
    and our dreams were
    bigger than the mountain
    and the weed was sweetened
    by our camaraderie
    and our cares had yet to
    weigh us down

    do you remember?

    we were a flock of birds
    soaring
    flying
    riding the wind
    our hearts beating to one song
    but fate had other plans
    and the wind became a gale
    that struck us full force
    and we all flew away
    and our flock was no more

    do you remember?

    the happiest memories
    can cut like a knife
    and i have so many
    unseen scars on my psyche
    and the weight of my cares
    makes it hard to fly
    because i remember
    the good times
    and oh, how they sting!
    night after night
    as i lie beneath the covers
    with several glasses of red wine
    in my head
    here's to the good times that now are
    memories that cut as they caress

    i remember
    do you?

    i still smoke the sacred herb
    it is still sweet
    but it now has other flavors
    that color the overall taste
    and sting the tongue
    but i still smoke the sacred herb
    in remembrance of our time
    in remembrance of our gang

    do you remember?
    i do.

     
  12. Musikero

    Musikero Lifetime Supporter Lifetime Supporter

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    A red and orange crumpled leaf

    Crosses my path



    Wind in my ears

    Singing



    Wind messing my hair



    My jacket is a



    Sail



    Lovers in the shadows

    Whispering without words



    Many faces



    Pass



    In the distance starlight



    In the city’s windows

    Smiles at me.

     
  13. Musikero

    Musikero Lifetime Supporter Lifetime Supporter

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    I
    A quiet autumn day in Tokyo...

    ...is a luxury I have denied myself​
    a treasure I have dug up once more - ​
    clear skies​
    a mosaic of ​
    Yellow​
    Orange and​
    Green​
    a gentle breeze​
    hard rock beneath me​
    the city sings a duet with​
    the birds of Hibiya Park​
    while I​
    the listener​
    remain silent.​
    II


    Sitting with my back against a tree...
    ...I travel ​
    a thousand miles​
    probably more​
    to see you​
    though you do not know it​
    I move without moving​
    my backside attached​
    firmly​
    to the ground​
    How I wish I could ​
    share​
    this simple feast with​
    You.​
    III
    The Rock Is A Storyteller
    Several million butts​
    of all shapes and sizes​
    have sat on me​
    Several million pairs of feet ​
    have stepped on me​
    kicked me occasionally​
    Lovers have kissed (and sometimes​
    more​
    than that) while ​
    sitting​
    standing​
    leaning​
    on me​
    I bear silent witness to the seasons​
    the years​
    the millennia​
    and to the uncountable stories​
    of the world.​
    IV
    Prayer On A Sunday Afternoon In The Park
    Let me be free like this​
    all the time - ​
    be silent in singing my song​
    be invisible when present​
    yet visible when absent​
    lose identity and its heavy burden​
    of ​
    yesterday​
    today and​
    tomorrow - ​
    if only that were possible!​
    V

    Two Strangers Meet In The Park
    I know not your history​
    not your cares​
    not your hopes​
    not your age (though the lines​
    on your face hint at it)​
    You know not my history​
    not my cares​
    not my hopes​
    not my age (though the lack of lines ​
    on my face hint at it)​
    We share nothing but smiles​
    a nod of greeting​
    a few words punctuated​
    by periods of silence - a few words,​
    then​
    farewell: a few more words​
    smiles​
    as you go and ​
    return​
    to your history​
    your cares​
    your hopes...​
    as I will soon ​
    return to mine.​
    VI
    Little Brown Bird
    Little brown bird​
    who are you?​
    Little brown bird​
    hopping about​
    on the ground​
    hopping​
    pecking​
    eating​
    not knowing​
    unaware​
    you have an audience​
    of one...​
    Wait! Don't go!​
    VII
    Hibiya Wine Festival
    A hundred different​
    wines​
    sloshing around​
    in my belly​
    a hundred different​
    fermented grapes,​
    red and white​
    in my brain​
    a hundred different people​
    or more​
    everywhere​
    sitting on benches or​
    on the ground​
    people talking​
    people laughing​
    people saying "Kampai!"​
    a hundred different people​
    a hundred different wines​
    one collective sigh​
    of Bliss.​
    VIII
    I must be going but...
    ...I yearn for a few moments ​
    more​
    of this bliss:​
    of the hard ground​
    I'm sitting on​
    of the tree trunk​
    I'm leaning against​
    of the contentment​
    of a lonely wanderer​
    resting​
    'neath this tree​
    one last cigarette​
    leads to another last​
    cigarette​
    as drowsiness​
    embraces me like a lover.​
    IX
    There's a pleasant kind of sadness...
    ...that caresses you​
    like a lover who welcomes you​
    after a long ​
    exhausting day​
    a quiet luxury brought about​
    by a glass of red wine​
    and your favorite cigarette​
    while sitting alone​
    in a corner​
    a smile​
    playing, teasingly​
    forming​
    on your lips​
    while you hum​
    an old love song​
    unmindful​
    of the people ​
    in the bar.​
    X
    I’ve run out of words now…

    …so I must resort​
    to…​
    and…​
    and…​
    …to say what I mean.​
     
  14. Musikero

    Musikero Lifetime Supporter Lifetime Supporter

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    5
    In the depths of my soul

    I find

    tree leaves framed in twilight blue,

    red and gold-tinted clouds, the

    sunset

    I gaze at the outside world-my soul

    I find

    in tree leaves framed in twilight blue,

    red and gold-tinted clouds, the

    sunset.

     
  15. Musikero

    Musikero Lifetime Supporter Lifetime Supporter

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    These five poems are the remaining survivors from my old thread in the old Hipforums. I'll see if I can find the others.
     
  16. Musikero

    Musikero Lifetime Supporter Lifetime Supporter

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    The most beautiful sunrise
    Happened when I woke up
    Next to you.

    This moment I have
    Frozen forever:

    You, silhouetted
    By golden light,
    Framed by the

    Sand and surf,
    By the gradually

    Brightening blue,
    As we walked on the
    Beach. That fleeting

    Bliss was all I had - a
    Grain of sand in

    Destiny’s upturned palm,
    Infinity in a seashell
    I have added

    To my vast collection.
     
  17. Musikero

    Musikero Lifetime Supporter Lifetime Supporter

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    Here's another old poem.
     
  18. Musikero

    Musikero Lifetime Supporter Lifetime Supporter

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    5
    tonight i danced in the
    rain

    listened to the
    percussion

    on the ground
    the occasional
    drum roll

    across the sky

    every tinkle born
    out of the collision
    of water and earth

    echoes in my mind

    resurrecting memories
    of an ancient time

    when i would dance
    in the rain
    because i knew
    i was the rain

    and the rain was freedom
    in tiny packages
    falling from grey clouds
    freedom pushed

    out of the womb
    and raised in a
    world of boundaries
    and social chains

    freedom rushing down
    to embrace its son
    whose real name
    was freedom:

    a nine-year-old boy
    hiding from his elders

    dancing a secret dance
    feet splashing
    blood pumping
    the thrill of getting caught

    arousing his heart...

    i glimpsed heaven that day
    just as i glimpsed it

    tonight while
    dancing in the rain.
     
  19. sylvanlightning

    sylvanlightning Prismatic Essence

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    Little brown bird
    who are you?
    Little brown bird
    hopping about
    on the ground
    hopping
    pecking
    eating
    not knowing
    unaware
    you have an audience
    of one...
    Wait! Don't go!


    ~* thank you for your offerings; kind and refreshing are they all *~
     
  20. Joseph0

    Joseph0 .. . .

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    deleted post.
     

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