Legend of the Fly ( a wiki poem)

The Legend  of the Fly

The sky has clouds
the stream has ripples
A pelican has wings

My pad has icloud
my wife has nipples

a Republican with wings

U shout at clouds!

U have no nipples!?

The fat lady sings!

You make me laugh out loud

you play a game

upon your cloud

Now what's ur name?”

no view is so loud

for poet like Poe's riddles

(we love) like nasty stings

The Pelicans crowd

They fear the riddles

They like the lightened hymns

Hymns were the beginning

when the poet soul sang out

So close to nature

So earthed with doubt!

He see hymns on frog's croaking

even if an old man with gout

or deeds so immature

poems abound no doubt.

b>

Frogs rejoice in their heavenly soaking

The Gout man so screams, he shouts!

Find him the cure!

The cure of less doubt, perhaps less gout

A creature born without king

slimy things leaping on its hideout

its songs or our displeasure

Pelican's delight on its sumptuous take-out

“I am the pelican king”!

The frogs sing monsoons' delight

They croak in pelicans' measure, in their leisure

They sing for carnal pleasure, of monsoon nights.

Ugly fish eye frog

Inside a pelican prince

the dove of the wet sky mirror

cooing..wooing

with hiccups after dinner

Poor frog cursed swimmer!

(leaving his physical deformity)

the frog uttered his litany

"Ugly I maybe

but who has more fairy tale than thee

sky flyers you can be

finding life in the scree

is the real prince in me!"

Summer breaths, breeze

Resuscitate oh rivers life

Air of life

I'm upside down, blue and not breathing

floating in a pond of night

Am I the heron?

Did I dream of frogs?

Am I the frog!?

Did I dream of herons?

I float in the night

Blue

>In a Blue Blue heaven

The frog prepares to receive his wings

observes

the pelican down below

>How unerved she'll be

to see a flying frog!..With a halo!

"It's here you will stay"

the golden pond keeper says

The fish, the insects all that crawls

do not eat, your stomach would not even growl.

From here to eternity until one king is king

you will be just blissful to have this undertaking

sing all day and pray in between.

I will pray and sing to my hearts content

but what of the prince?

was it all pretence?

Out of life now....

>but still no wiser

no worries..you think..so did I

I have wings..I'm a flyer..

what more to desire?

What's there to ponder?

When I am no no longer

a part of it?

Quick..take back these wings..the halo..the ipad

return me I beg...miracle worker

to the day before blue day

when I croaked with meloncholia

through the damp night...

where I waited and longed

and, Yes! I admit pain-panged..

but felt SOMETHING!.... Alive...Alive....alive!

The great KING heard the off key

On the cloudy fairways before the keeper tweak his tee

"Why he detest his place on my kingdom?"

Did you not read him the choices for every martyrdom?

"I will" and swung easy with his custom made wood club

The Keeper avoided the hazard but not the shrub

Gave up the ball and keep the score

Proceeded to see the frog to tweet no more

And everyday

As thundered, rain

breezed the failing life

as hops and croaks

so little frogs arose

to blink

and watch

and stare

eye for eye for i .. am reborn as just a fly...

alive

alive

alive!

As the fly flew

He flew through, and through, the void

>Through times of dark

With flight there was the coming of light and longer days

Never ending was this flight

As light became the wings

And a Prince stood proud, brought upon such heaven's wings

And angelic wings lit up the void

A Prince was born to rule this way

To rule the land and sea and sky

But then darkness decided

that he must die…

Like an old good fly.

-Jason Christopher ,Maria Disley, Saigon De Manila

First published in Fineartsamerica.com

Live and Let Live

A SON REMEMBERS 


On majestic hill just before twilight 
reminiscing a wrinkled life in a lite 
Aura of omniscient's intimate dusk 
This woman's single-hood form a great task 
Five decades ago, past ovarian prime 
To complete life she prayed in sacred shrine 
Where then, solitude is a chilling curse 
where one is measured on descendant course 
To a quack non-providence she sought guide 
In tarot card of street sear she abide 
The one last great hope was read in a light 
To have a spouse across the sea and might 
Not by the river she'll be a spinster 
But in sun kissed island she'll shed a tear 
To bid goodbye on prized hymen she wear 
For that single man fate hinge as her dear 

Seasons and faultless reasons toll shifted 
bold decision made heavy cross ,lifted 
Reaching the great land with mighty peak 
fabled birds and flowers not for the weak 
Silver lakes, green canyon and plateau 
A promised land to start a life for two 
She nod to Adam's sire on shallow fry 
Not knowing the depth of his sleekly try. 

The subtle dream it came, short and untrue 
This man's restless youth search new avenue 
The scent of bliss faded to shifting breeze 
Back to the mainland he will find his wheeze 
For his flesh is weak than the woman's spot 
The family life she yearned for was not 
Maternal dwelling she raised their children 
Her true jewels, the songs for morning wren. 
To mourn not even though one angel fled's 
And two came, completed three thoroughbreds 
My two brethren and me as building blocks 
To unfold life ahead on given stocks. 

This mother ever so beautiful in our eyes, 
A saintly soul living on a thin ice 
A form and substance of godly whispers 
I hear to ease pain and all my brothers 
A gentle touch of heart warming delight 
To greet sunshine or endless dream at night, 
In those young days, when the world seems too small 
simple desire is to hear her name call 
To view her coming from a long bus trip 
Is like a pop star of a concert clip 
Our hands waving for her to glimpse 
A smile and gleaming eyes between eclipse 
A pious throbbing, kisses of purity 
We lost fatherly arms's inventory 
Fairly to the man, flaunting Don Juan 
Endowed earthly sins of thousand and one 
Than fix the sheltering clasp of loving arms 
from our own family reaching his alms. 

As childhood plays we numbered in our days 
Mom never ceases to love come what may. 
With a spouse like trojan horse in our mind 
paternal mirage or presence that was unkind 
In twisted vine of the path we've taken 
Her visions betrayed her tender station 
Advancing age on single frail body 
The goal of holding on without folly 
Came unsteady while we grow on quickly 
As the world comes bigger just unfairly 
. 
And when the time reaper's scythe lurks to prey 
darkness got her unfolding us away 
hospital trip are frequent than the bills. 
Our dysfunctional senses came to spills 
Crisis come mocking our fervor wishes 
As if crossroads are bad premises 
No vile of thoughts had come near before me 
But one ambient night was fiercer than wee 
Death was deafening I can remember 
All lights smoldering in darkest ember 
I struggled that night while son's retrieved 
Memories made my sanity reprieved 

Eight days then passed two days before Christmas 
Friends, members of our clans offered a mass 
On day of burial past meridian 
recalling agony all obsidian. 
A wild unrest swirling within my head 
as throat being clogged by a vicious lead 
Some trifling wind innately reminds me 
How the world inside her was epitome 
Of peace and comfort, badly resembling 
Now on this funeral I fight my trembling 
Because 38 years ago today 
She gave birth to me in a holiday 
Leading to mortal life without delay 
Now, I bleed my last sight of her this day. 
As I wept the circle of life I see 
mother's ascension to divinity. 

-Saigon De Manila 
May 12, 2013 

* this poem is a recollection of my Mother's funeral last Dec 23, 2005, on the date of my 38th birthday 

The boat under evening sky

The boat under evening sky
floating in a dead calm water
under splendor moon shining
a fate enroute to somewhere.

The boat under pale sky
maneuvering in deadly water
while sudden storm eclipsing
safe haven nowhere.

The boat under dark pitched sky
disturbed on a black water
fought his doom unwavering
to retire off shore elsewhere.

The boat under urban sky
resting with a Boston bomber
a shelter or death defying
final voyage seen everywhere.


April 21, 2013©


Hovering thoughts of the new Mariner

On my own but not alone
Like an itchy dry wound
I kept looking around to dry land, even wetlands
I think the thoughts from other similar digital land
saw succinct words, typical or symmetrical
about self destruction, truce, solar flare and strawberry fields
auto-pilot including opiate avatar and 2.5
remembering my own pilgrim, foreboding and siblings.
Are these just goat willows of poet's surreal universe?
felt like am a drone on a unfamiliar terrain

A tetra-byte of emotions
All dimensional figures, cube, cuboid but not a void,
All experiences or vent however divide,
All sharing time zone, with context and occupying space,
All intelligent life forms, all bending souls, ever different, in creative words,
All creatures, mythological, nocturnal, domesticated, or in the farm,
All identities,given name, pen name, surname, poseur and saboteur
All sins and beatitudes, from then, now and beyond

This great magnitude spawns us all, and will never be a pawn,
of abysmal overlord or prejudice.
As we go forth and shall forever be
bonded by our own exigencies

-Saigon de Manila
©April 15, 2013


Reflection
(an echo to a failed poetopia)

After all is said and done fleeting begins
Grief, guilt and some soliloquy
Time will sit like a child observing
The innocent heart will ask on his mind
What happened?
To the great circus and merry go round
It was a good ride
With clowns, freak and stunts
The overflowing goods and cheap prizes
different animals abound
A festivities of Neverland
but, was all mirage with no borderline
An imagined highway
All cars are flying
Even cows are floating
However pinching
The fabled nightingales
Turn earthlings to stone.
In the long moment
Of quantum disbelief
We remember
The fallen
As dry as dessert cast away
Dead by night time
Feasted with in the food chain
Fertilizing our chosen land.

©April 13, 2013


Senryu to the listless soul

misunderstood mule
poetry not politics
will lead your pen here

©April 2013


The boat
(chained Senryu for threadtanic )

boat in the dark night
one way of living just right
amidst lurking sight

boat in the limelight
or ship of too crowded site
why the petty fight?

boat of pure delight
matters on our chartered flight
you're free to alight.

©April 12, 2013


Senryu..of his Past

ignoble it may
sordid ways to HIV
he is still our child

-Saigon de Manila
©2013


Miscellany in the Morning

early mosquitoes
I join them with cup of tea
while my spouse tease me

-Saigon de Manila
©2013

Miscellany at Dawn
(a senryu)

An itchy cold feet
while cursing the clock ringings
a day to begin

-Saigon de Manila
©2013


Miscellany at Midnight
(a senryu about early life)

wrong job and bad wife
on my locust eaten years
part of journeyed life

-Saigon de Manila
©2013


Miscellany at Night -30
(a senryu)

Sabbatical leave
for poets and vagabonds
all are friends of mine

-Saigon de Manila
©2013


Miscellany at Night -20
(a senryu to a news job)

new curriculum
to follow on new frontier
curse or daily bread?


-Saigon de Manila
©2013

Miscellany at night - 10
(a senryu before a I go to bed)

old friends and less viewed
golden friendship in hairy paws
snoring wife every night

-Saigon de Manila
©2013


Senryu to new born


A peak of conquest
not consumed by my demons
this new child of mine.

-Saigon de Manila
©2013


Of balls

Either bended or slice
that is how golfer's balls flies
but straight balls are lies.


-Saigon
©2013

Senryu
(..what's left in Heaven)

All vices to hell
but the heavens lured Bragi
to do poetry

-Saigon De Manila
©2013


Toe to Tanggo
(echo to Poe's Sundry thought)

What kind of rhythm does
your toes begets for dust?
Are your sure all dance floor
failed you to grow and felt poor?
Did you out age your dog
and gave you reasons like rogue?
Artisan would sometime weep
Not for the dry wine you seek
But for all the things that gone
before you saw your own grandson.
What loss if at all,
to shrug waves on Bikini atoll?
Like every boatman did
to justify his ungodly deed.
For surrendering is wanton dying,
while flirting is a madman dancing.
So move your shoes untie
Or take a bite on lovely pie.
In the shroud of your past
For every woman to lust
The song of ancestral shogun
a war dance for pagan,
life had just begun.
to sand out your rusty shotgun.


©April 8, 2013
Eastern Time

An Echo for Tiger


Tiger's life is more than the cycle of golf balls,
As a child, he would rather fixed his goals on great Jack -the bear
a chosen universe in his mind next to his own Dad as hero
strong willed
he reeled off the grass with spiked shoe
after thousand balls bounced and fly around
until they hit the mark to continue next morning
playing along his father
stretched his focused mind
envisioning the great end...
a leap into the mortal's mind
player after player had their reign
with out the aim..to shatter records on his pace...
after philandering frenzy or off the media mob..
Down!!! Says the paparazzi's verdict he'll perished..
too human, crumbling on high noon's well .
his run seemed to get to an end
Instead.....today he returned again
in the mixed with roaring Rory and Bubbas's hovering craft
tickets and TV views rocketing high at end of every play
As we sat in our living rooms, marveled
mindful to draw the person
who won once in one leg.
How we felt now championing ourselves.

Saigon De Manila
April 4, 2013



My Childhood Years

My childhood years
Checkered ,blues and tears
Memories that made me smile
Little journey of unforgotten miles
dread and courage
And my whimsy outrage
On my childhood years

My childhood years
Tumbling and running
Why I jump more than crying
With my wooden toys
All are simple joys
On my childhood years

My childhood years
Puppy love and love letter
The last one i will always remember
Like my first kite
And all the things i like
On my childhood years

My childhood years
Like garden lush
Like the summer that will never last
As rivers gone dry
Remembering like how my child first cry
On my childhood years

March 22, 2013


9 Lives Interrupted

There is piece of heaven in such bliss overly
From a felicity of peace - daily;
None had premonition of scratch furniture
Why will completed home ask for more?
My son and I, has pleasure unabridged
before our kindred cat Onion demised

Adopting our moogie is destiny
Quenching needed love quietly
Where money is not assured to buy
the Threshold of life, so pure that we cannot lie.
A companion to our leaps and bounds
Out eventful play of endless rounds.

Six seasons and three force migration
Unspoken stress turned inspiring non fiction
With out manual we gave restriction
O’ his freedom we thought is an obligation,
crude harness like prisoner of war
only to find- a lethal err will scar-

In the solstice of an afternoon beckoning
the absence of purring is deafening.
A stilled body hanging like martyr,
flashback of everything like satire and fear
We comfort all the thoughts we care
surrendering the joy for one last tear.

March 20, 2013


An Echo...
(To J.Kemp)

A poet is in pain delivering emotion
albeit relieved
He cries in every words
that spells his angst.
He does not touched it,
but he paints it in every colors.
He sees the wound of others,
choosing his own as example.
He nurse it on every reader
that may incline to appreciate it.
The lover on the other hand
wanted more for his paramour.
The poet whispers to our soul
The lover caress our mind
In the world...



Where Do This Poet Going?

(a senryu)

Am fried on all sides
not burn-out
tumbling down
to have my first non-earth oven
while my wits are toasting.
Shall I serve it?
unbaked?
Its my artistic choice.
lite
or amber
from a kaleidoscopic mind.

-Saigon De Manila
March 4, 2013



Taho
(soya gelatin)


A walking weigh scale?
or street food early gourmet
competing ice cream.

I dont see it matters,
vendors are sought on first call
like rain on summer.

March 2. 2013






Tale of the Two Wedding Rings

After decades but not an eon hence,
I have a tale of a Man wanted his woman exclusive to his arm
Looking for a token of an everlasting bond
To symbolize more than duties to God,
Kings and law of men

One day, months before planned wedding
This man dug some jewelry on their heirlooms
under the lit of slowly melting candle wax
and a mind fixed to his waiting bride

A broken ring and earrings touches his skin
A serendipity set to happen,
From the dust of time, memories surely unraveled

The next morning
He asked his mother about the thing he'd found
if which he intend to recycle thru a smith
and from those he'll have a ring of their own
As new little bands of matrimonial

" That pieces of gold you have discovered
Is from my youth and also from my mother"
The man was astonished hearing the story unfolding
"She gave that to me as unconditional love
that never gives up hope or faith in my own future"
Then she asked "What can you pledge to her?"

Clenching it to his hand he said
"A commitment and as special bond
For our loyalty and let others know
we are taken from the day we will wear it
to every day we can!"

The aging mom paused and asked more
"Is that all? "And he was perplexed
" Remember, where that jewelry came from,
two pieces intended for two index fingers"
His son can not quench a riddle of a message
she wanted heartily imparted.

"The earring came from my ears and should both your own
As watchful eyes on your every deeds and intentions.
The old ring, being broken should not be hindrance
To look on her shortcomings and even your own weakness,
It's bound to bridge what is lacking in your characters.
It's a shadow you can follow
to return home not to go astray,
and a smile to greet you when the other is afar.
A companion to remember that not one
had abandoned you in any moment of despair.
Its meant to be paired,
Like day is to the night
Not opposite fellows but to be united
in very chance both hands will meet
as true equal halves from the time
you committed to the last day of your lives"

Enlighten, the man continued
"My apology to take loosely the eternal virtue
And daily commitment that seems untrue
I will care the one heart that will wear it
and the two souls it will be created.
The two rings you will eventually see
will forge two families to unity
In every season it's destined to endure
for our dreams in every minutes of our days
Remembering every moment to make it as our last."

And so, on the wedding date that was set upon
The two golden ring was made
Without question of its value
As continuity of the devotion they found
For the bride and groom to say they "DO"
As fate would be with them
For one and everlasting love.


-Saigon de Manila
January 11, 2013

The poetry book

Pages beckoning
waiting cherish cpossession
To whom the eyes toll

These noblest artist
Shared their work's prized creation
Free or under paid..

To whom readers love
Our words will be with them now
Profound writing bliss.

Dec 2012

Haiku 1201

You see a rainbow
Remember God and you too
His arch of Promise

In full spectrum
the circle you will follow
To live in full glow

-Saigon de Manila
12-24-2012

2012 Poetry Vignettes

Infinite scroll-work

limitless of thought
evolving new elements
Endless beginning

-Saigon
©Nov 18, 2012



To post or not to post

A mInd overwhelm
A waiting keyboard
Time thicking
Creative overload
Simply ego unchecked.

Nothingness can rules

-Saigon
1:38am
Nov 17, 2012

Spooky story


A chocolate colored flood hardly called water
A roof noise like a whale singing
Hovering  eerie silver gray clouds
One can count the slow arms of the clock
None dared  the numbers of trees breaking' apart
Kzzzt Kaboom! Flashing  thunder like canon
Darkness follow in the abyss of a long night
Under the belly of wicked wind
Whosssh, whrrrr you
can hear a murdering rain
Poltergeist misbehaving or
A phenomenon ever here?
In a country surrounded by water
Such chances are neither nil
Or surreal as hollywoold reel
From unkindness cold hearted  ocean
Either  conniving  heat of prodigal Sun
Or proverbial sign of times
They are easy culprit to identfy
Than condemning  the folly of man
The systemic crushing of its lungs
To wanton shortening of his breath,
Like a curse tale of terra cotta
Of wasted land and garbage shoreline
A collective ignorance and crime
As weapons of natural annihilation
A spooky story for a brave child of mine
While typhoon ravish my fatherland
For cycle of ever after.

-Saigon
©October 30, 2012

point of nothingness!?

most men awaits fortune
i included give no excuses
for my crude lullabies
provoking anger or cry
to non-crooked line
apprentice
painter
o' pregnant monochrome
songbird of the pen
erring wordsmith
of foreign twang

boldness or blindness
the age of my soul 
willful innocence
all that is pure
joyful or forbidden

captured hallucination
whatsoever in the mind

purposely nothing is.


-Saigon de Manila
©October 26, 2012



THE CRUCIBLE


On a day where my feet is heavy not in a hurry
coming from a building i now thought is shabby.
'saw young beggar with crude drum, catching a jeepney ride
another native lad from mountain's indigenous tribe
near my side is his mother carrying a malnourished child

Half day early i was self-assured but doomed merchant
gullible to know every line down to every consonant
a poke of fragile finger interrupting my suicidal resonance
comes the look of the mother and the gaze of pittance
desolately uttering a crafted word "mercy
sire"

The horn of vehicles snap the short spell bound
my act to give alms gone and rush to a train above ground.
Recollecting the morning meeting with HR Manager
Presenting me last pay, with my eyes like that of a pauper
-neither wrath or disbelief is needed surrendering apathy

Hundred meters away I can see my modern dwelling
Imposing elegance amidst a death foretelling
last station i came down noticing a commotion
an injured child fell from deadly routine supplication
the beggar that clinch to jeepney as place of trade.

In a deep sigh I approach him to console my curiosity
assuring first, if my clutch bag stuff are safety
I asked if I can take him to a doctor, but he utter
”am fine sir, I need to be back with my mother”
I gave pennies from sorted full metals somewhere in my trouser

Unmindful he received it and collects his crushed bass instrument
Not realizing he's leaving me lesson
in short engagement
Dusting off, walks away like its an ordinary day.
between my own mortal destiny or come what may
to end a life or my own from a gun I'm concealing

My mobile phone vibrate with familiar number ringing
“Hello dear” I answered my cheerful bride in waiting
“How was your meeting?” ‘Am fine’ without guilt or pain
“See you later” saying this I know confidence I had regain
Just remembering the courage of beggars I’ve seen

-Saigon
©October 25, 2012


Ban(G)!


Was it a loud sudden noise or an eerie paranoia of copulating?
raiding a den in a sudden without warning
police will send you guideline made in heaven.
As if the world and their intelligence are dead even.
Caressing ego with a promised of case reopening
forgone words are either deafening or my awakening
like chilly domain somewhere in Antartica..
expression being banged like a dictator from Africa.

Sept 26, 2012

(Senryu to f&$#Â¥! Axed discussion thread)

Perfect crime or ill timed.
Shielding of a dying star
Is purely evil.

-Saigon
On my mind since
September 1969




Love, Sex and Lullaby I

Pajama party or boisterous crowd
Let's read the code why they croak out loud
Is it a ritual rhyme to pray for more rain
Or just serenading its mate in vain?

At the frenzy of finding the bitchy Dear
he'll sex in days like he abandoned fear
Licking the rain drops till her climax faded fast
Assuring heavens, seedlings will last

As eggs hatched and swim to new life
To refuge to water where suns seldom lights
Harboring the future rascals to noise the night
Mixing praise, moans and proliferous's delight

Is this for the deity love of the shower rain,
Or the procreation reward of sex and pain?
Ah graphic beauty of nature's survival orgy
This frog's lullaby, makes poetry obligatory

-Saigon
Sept 1,2012
10:06am


Romantic 

So pleasurable 
To be caught on lovely web 
Toxins for Don Juan 

-Saigon 
Sept 1, 2012

She
She will be my queen
From our wedding date onward
A blissful reward

My would be roommate
No stranger to artist life
As poet's wife

Forever a friend
A critic or fanatic
Still sounds romantic

-Saigon
8/28/12

milestone

ten thousand views now
a creative thread burning
the artist online

we now celebrate
Magus "Ed" of cyber-land
real mighty man

this enclave domain
we came we saw, you conquered
lower and upper case

-Saigon
(posted for Ed Meridith thread)
9/07/12

cloudy day

Suspended on air
Hovering cottons all day
Challenging the sun

Cumulus beauty
Blocking the beam ray of life
Working men's delight

-Saigon
08/27/12

Fine art work by OTIL ROTCOD

A Poem a day


Between this universe and my soul can imagined
between flat lines and signs of life
for pain and sheer delight
of love and that of
unexpected joy
for my heroes
sex or woes
nature
godly
or
just
reasons
to appreciate
what there is now
and what there was to you
and me where I want to be now
and how i felt, from the depth of my longing
wishful
thinking, ode, dissent or meditative state

A poem a day
keeps the demons away.

© Saigon
9/7/2012

PORTRAIT BY THE WINDOW
(An Echo)


My brave child, nature is kind
As torrential rain flushes like Noah's  tale
and the whole metro stood still,
soak and crying
Nature is kind.

Gusty wind, no deafening  lighting
Brethren and children can brace the night
on collective prayers
while keeping dry.
Nature is kind

My brave child, nature will be kind
This chosen land  under weathers' wrath
southwest monsoon over pouring
my brave child
nature is kind

Video footage of victims,and heroes
neighbors houses floats in the river flow
pets howling, shivering on remaining trees
guilty Men and women cramped to highlands
as their sea of garbage,
kept destruction  unimagined

Our nation survived wars,
even not this kind
as we rape the land
In the shadow of your chilling hands
My brave child
Nature is kind

-Saigon
©Sept 7, 2012





Of friends and foe

Lo between these two
What's the difference for you
If nether helped you?

Both can do make you
Or break for who you will be
Paradox really

Villain or hero
Distinction told from A to Z
Let them define me

-Saigon
08-26-12
3:01am


Dream or neverland
Like the playground of the moon
set foot on high noon

Earth bound i will be
Like forefathers before me
Mortal destiny

Oh Neil Armstrong
Your note to mythology
Icarus as thee

-Saigon
8-26-2012
11:19pm




AEON
(Altered Everything Or Nothing)

In full Aquarius morning
came an elemental forces
that rivaled Khaos of Hesiod
this phenomenon
stirred
indifference
as if all agenda
can never be
put in a rationale.
The Protogenoi of our time
for us
wordsmith
and
artist alike.
He or she that serves
primeval Gods should not take the blame
for the universe that we know
will always be in peril.
But our world
will be better
with a strong chance of epiphanies
in the midst of the void that was created
that harvest more fury than fear,
had we not tasted
the agony
of being
in the
pitch
dark
of
nothingness.

-Saigon
©August 3, 2012

O pay dome O' Espresso
(to Viet)

Come visit the
world of Fine Fart Antarctica
bedrock of
frigid foolishness,,
from sea cows
seal or penguins are still
frosty space
for
yonder
'n chilling imagination
so intelligent life form could let their brain freeze
inside its box
unthawed
into the abysmal boredom
and have their spirit sunk low
into the ebb of
desperation

coffee espresso is never free
or served chilled
as long as
the power that be, still snort the will
and shackle over the pacifist
or deemed fascist
they mothball em to express urges
to colorful proliferation

at the moot castration of
intellectual orgasm
art no more
or literature
but new
sense of
insensibility

-Saigon




© 2012

My first 35years...

My fineartamericai.com group homepage video

Allrights reserved.

Art/Poetry Book: On the wings O' Butterflies

a collection of 162 poems, 20 artworks from nine(9) contemporary poets across four (4) continents:

• Chaline Ouellet
• Christopher Gaston
• Ed Meredith
• Jacob King
• Kevin Callahan
• Maria Disley
• Saigon De Castro (me)
• Thao Chuong
• Xoanxo Cespon

These poets provide readers with a global perspective on different topics from the whole spectrum of thinking and writing process.

Apple,angst and candle light

The preceding are what my pen have left off, and my keyboard continues...it was really a generation away since I last considered my self as lexiphile. Thanks for the itch to produce art, as I tried to hibernate from my brushes heres comes loose poetry I have done in the blazing quartet between an ending year and new summer.



       Ilumina mundi      

                                                            i
                                                          was
                                                       and I am
                                                   in a sojourn.. by
                                               life like that of a light
                                                flickering or dead still..
                                                  vulnerable and open
                                                   To sundry elements
                                                        at times cruel,
                                                          mocking,
                                                           Deceitful
                                                              Ally
                                                                or
                                                         our adversity
                                                        To finish our
                                                        Own journey.
                                                        Thus like that
                                                        Of manifested
                                                        Destiny, we,'ll
                                                        Protect its life
                                                        To survive the
                                                        Test we never
                                                        Yearn to add
                                                        Nor complete
                                                        Defying odds
                                                       That we're told
                                                        Will make us
                                                        Either burn out
                                                        Or ever  proud.



Courtship at the tea-farm:

green foliage of hills on man's herbal haven
a secret blend that rival's your coffee
dawn breaks in streak of gold over the heaven
hustling mortals appears to earn their fee

as the morning kick in a lively throttle
no idle cupid will missed romantic pawns
this lovely day is another man's battle
to win his mainden joy he wants to own

Oct18,2011

The poet

He see poetry
In every nook and cranny
lights or after life

� Saigon
March 4, 2012

Lady in the hammock

Oh my Fair lady
Why resting in my hammock
If my arm is warm
Waiting  for fondly arm rest

Sleep now if you must
Bring the joy of your cat nap
luxury deprive
is now your paradise found

                 - ¤ -

dream, dream my maiden
sinking well in thy heaven
dream, dream in slumber
into the  eve dark amber

Sultry shaped cradle
hummock floats in bridle
sensual joys and naughty moan
From our early union groan

thou lovely handles I felt
For another  evening stealth
Saucy lips, and softly breast
To inner core I found rest

Oh lady you're tired
be asleep as I admired
if thou awake and refresh
Lets start new bliss to our nest.

-Saigon
Copyright
Feb 2012l

Anyone seen my uncanny jelly fish


Anyone seen my uncanny jelly fish
Not on tv or on japanese dish
 Yet it reminds you of  celestial hues
A frontier baffling as if universe are few

Be it in a frolick or  gazed in the sea,
Like of plastic, pospsicles and honey bee
Unlocking, fragile looking wonder
A challenge Deity offers to painter - like me

How cool and tranquil oh unpretending
With a stung that would damn you unending
From a being with out a brain
Ouch what profit would i really gain

In a black virtual canvas created
(Creative abyss I think  I cheated)
Floating, gliding it its new domain
Proud creator forever I am

The creep

Ashes to sea dust,
A chain to mystic web life
meta or divine?

Qui tenet veritatem?

What is reality today
Will be revoke someday
Truth is relative
Just that elusive
Never mind what others have to say
Just live to changes that might lead at bay
And walk the Earth like true master
You were destined to deal
And make that chances- real


-Saigon
3/08/12


Kaleidoscopedia

 ten toes now setting
arching mid-foot unyielding
a hind supporting
where eyes ogled find defying

sore they will tell you
but did you mind it too?
the burden they owned
marked the prints wish you have loaned

-Saigon
� Feb 14, 2012

The Feet

Checked your two brave feet
How many miles had it set?
All day walk, and here
Running leads you anywhere

Be your feet leading
or your mind is not heeding
when they get even
six feet under is haven

Feb11,2012

Angst for sickness

A diarrhea,
vomiting aches and chills
ah burning fever
abdomen in pain
silently i'm screaming
ah just like dying

-Saigon
January 16,2012



Another Camiile De la Rosa opus:

APOCALYPSE

Image

Prophetic and man
Now one being is revealed
holy, lewd - ghastly

Vision

Foretold is coming
Is it dread to humankind
If Nirvana is lose?

Illusion

To reach as an end
Our sin is already cleanse
to live and let live


On Camille de la Rosa's art work:

to primal great mind
comes our sensuous inner peace
sordid and beauty

sought virginity
hymen of naivete
caviar to many

Jan 09 2012


Ode to prayer


If my whisper breaks the rhythmic silence
To my Almighty God it is but  loud
Starting a Day, on meals or nightly chat
A thankful words to Him as gracious psalm

Completing  my solace mortal being
As willed and  haunting like baby crying
A solemn call in an answer divine
Celestial King readying heaven

A cry, litany or soul  bend thirsty
Within our core and beyond our psyche
A quest and deep need whatever  maybe

Thou listen to whom much is nearer?
No churches entity or vagabond brethren
Shall  attention  be unequal leaven

Our words liberating supplication
Uplifting hope, soothing wound healing scar
Granted or not  to prayer we have found.

March 29,2012





Coffee n grin senryu


A morning reading
 just makes a meal lovelier
coffee more tastier

7:30am
March 30, 2012



Sino ang bida?

Isang katanungan medyo pang estupido ang dating
Sa halos banal nitong kaanyuan
Nitong nagbibigkis sa hapag kainan
Ulam o sinabawan ay mapanglaw
Pag dimo sinabayan ng pillak na kanin
Kayat magbunyi sa totoong bidang pagpugayan
Pagpagparangal sa tunay nitong kahalagahan
Bigas na butil, yaman ng lupang hnirang



Trans.


Who is the star?

A question with stupid connotation
Transgressing its divine form
for what that binds our dining table
soups or viand are lousy boring
Without silver consummate pairing
A celebration with our table's superstar
Honoring its actual pedestal
The grain of rice, wealth of our chosen land

April1



Mi Cerveza

A shot too many,

sizing up who is manly

Speak easy die costly!

March 30, 2012



Death of an apple picker

5 to 6 apple bins a day the master ordered
to avoid paying minimum the land  declared
race is on against unforgiving weather coming
few weeks away and  with few workers signing
the farm is wanting but who is to blame?

9 hours a day surely you will get a pay
whether you're in a journey or making it a day
78 dollars for a work  less than demanded
 growling owner cursing the state they abided
workers were called but few are able!

100 years ago all young even  motherland
farmers are plenty like buffalos in the grassland
they come from a afar , jolly and uncanny
no known profession or collared vanity
but dreamed to be an apple picker.

1 mighty nation forge by natural migration
fought all wars, humane or just abomination
fenced its feign bounty, from cheap labor army
decaying dreams of  freedom loving humanity
the land's still sovereign, so they say.


-Saigon
©April 15, 2012




Senryu to a personal email

defending my poem
if plagiarize or flattery
drunk i rather be

April 16,2012

Senryu to a boxing fan


One Lazy sunday
On tv lousy boxing
Good,  no beer opened!

 May 6


boxer paintings