by: Dine Racoma

all too suddenly
the wind changed course
quietly it’s gone
too insensitive
too harsh
insulting the senses
after wrecking havoc
gone to more lushful leas
fresher land perhaps
that offers more pleasantries
leaving the once special place
in the dark
broken, cold and limp
too tired to follow
it is free, it is
no claim over it
none

.

related poem:  oh wind!

After a long long week of missed appointments, missed opportunities, chasing people, missed lunches and dinners…waiting…and waiting…I can only say WTF!!!

After a long long week of schedules gone awry…missed deadlines…bad decisions…sleepless nights…frustrations…insensitivities…I can only say WTF!!!

After a long long week of misplaced things…priorities gone haywire…overspending… wrong signals…no signals…WiFi down…unmet expectations…I can only say WTF!!!

After a long long day…a Thursday which stretched out to the wee hours of the morning of Friday…to the early morning, to lunch and beyond…I can only say WTF!!!

WTF!!! WTF!!! WTF!!! I can say it over and over again…but don’t get me wrong!

WTF–I told BA while we were playing with the kitties, and he was surprised. After all, he has been saying all morning

Today will be great. Make that your morning mantra. And yes, this day will be great. Have a great Friday.

And we laughed and laughed and laughed…for we came up with a new meaning to WTF!

WTF–Wow Today’s Friday…WTF–Wow Today’s Friday…WTF–Wow Today’s Friday…isn’t it great?

Aren’t Fridays great? Yes–Today’s gonna be a good day…a great day!

No matter what! Every day’s gonna be a good day. WTF!

Let nothing ruin our days, not even schedules gone awry, missed deadline, frustrations, wrong signals, waiting, etc., etc.

Kids will have their 3-day break (isn’t Monday a holiday–Iglesia ni Kristo Day?)…UAAP in the weekend…movies perhaps…CRIBS…and family..and friends…loved ones….Mucci…the kitties…and quiet days…and quiet nights…and happy days…and happy nights…and life goes on and on and on. So much blessings to be thankful for!

Happy weekend folks!

WTF–WOW! Today’s Friday.

Also in The D Spot

by: Dine Racoma

this is it
deep in a pit
raw emptiness
intense sadness

smack to the bone
truly i am alone
at this moment
misery, torment

no words nothing
can give meaning
no matter what
keep it at that

woe to me
just let it be

by Dine Racoma

as the temperature falls
and dips even further
It’s time to huddle
cuddle and snuggle
curl up
nestle and nuzzle
snooze
catnup
and doze further
to literary slumber

but while i smile
pleased with myself
i am jolted to reality
can’t help but think
of those with less in life
orphaned babies
homeless families
children in the streets
soldiers in the hills
mendicants, old folks

chilling in the open
curled up in a ball
shivering
teeth grinding
no blankets
to keep them warm
against the cold winds
they just grimace
some in raw pain
others dead beat

this is the truth
in a society
where survival is left
to each his own
unmindful of the other
leaders equally nefarious
while some empathic hearts
prevail to give comfort
i am left with a question
will they ever rise
from this bottomless pit?

This poem also appeared in The D Spot.

by Dine Racoma

I don’t mind if they call me “lola”
even if “lola” gives the perception of granny
old and gray
because I am their “lola”
truly and rightly, It is always fun
to be with these two wonderful kids
makes the world stop temporarily
no cares, no worries
just plain joy and innocence.

sweet scent of cologne
blueberry shampoo, or strawberry
ponies galore, dollhouses
toys, toys and toys
colored pencils, pens, crayons and clay
nursery rhymes, movies
cartoon channel and disney
oh to be young again
what wonderful experience

hugs so warm, so tight
kisses so sweet what exquisite delight
the minute we say good-bye and we part
it’s like it’s been a long time
its wanting to be with them again
crazy maybe, but let it be
who are these creatures that shake my world?
flesh of my flesh, blood of my blood through their dad
who incidentally is my son
we probably share the same DNA

lovely creatures by the name of granddaughters
Pia (6) and Cate (3), and one more soon to be.

by Dine Racoma

A Perfect Creation of God–a poem for Monica on her 25th birthday.

all i could utter when you came into the world
was “i love you, my daughter, my darling baby
let me be the first to gaze at your beauty”
what perfect creation of God I was awed

i was so happy at that moment i could die
a daughter made me whole after a son
nothing more to ask for, really there was none
what perfect creation of God on high

your baby’s breath was to me an angel’s beckoning
sometimes all i could do was gaze at you, bedazzled
did i deserve such great fortune, i was kinda puzzled
what perfect creation of God a magnanimous blessing

first step, first tooth, first words flashed over and over
milestones, history as though they meant the universe
every opportunity a photo, even if they were not the first
what perfect creation of God, will you be mine forever

as you grew up through the innocent then feisty years
a free spirit vulnerable to the realities of the world
i was equally young again, equally struggling in the cold
what perfect creature of God resilient free from fears

falling in love, failing, falling out of love, faltering
seeing you in pain, i wanted to grab that pain and banish it
i hurt as much as you did, see the gaping wound, the dark pit
what perfect creation of God still you emerge living, loving

now you are 25, a child no more, a young gracious lady
you can have it all–jobs, money, travel, even an advocacy
make your dreams come true, live your life, be truly happy
what perfect creation of God with Him you will be fine, certainly

This poem also appeared in The D Spot.

by: Dine Racoma

if i could, i would
sing at the top of my voice
dance to my heart’s delight
shout what’s in my heart

delight in what i have
wish for what i do not
pirouette, spin, flip, float
mingle, tickle, giggle

it’s fun, not a sham
make believe? oh well
call it crazy, what a frenzy
but this is me, i am me

if you feel like it, if you really do
why not come, share my world
no one’s really watching
would you, if you could?

.

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by: Dine Racoma

what difference does it make
when you are there and i am here
away, ever physically apart

i have always felt your existence
and you have sensed mine
even if our paths have never crossed

it’s like you have always been here
and i have always been there
but we are yet to breath the same air

yet to tread the same ground
meet face to face, see eye to eye
hearts beating in single rhythm

what is this strong force
that draws us nearer and nearer
to each other, closing in on us

as if the universe were aligned
everything else in its proper order
not one against the other

will the serendipitous moment
ever happen, will it ever be
will there ever be a right time

when you and I are together
the closest we can, not only in spirit
but in person, whole

maybe now, maybe tomorrow
maybe never,  it will if meant to be
it will not if not meant to be

“Serendipity?” is an old poem that was rehashed and inspired by the movie, Serendipity.

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by Angela Racoma

the time will come
when new beginnings will start other endings
and all false hopes will finally be free
moving on will not be as hard as it seems
letting go will not cause pains that pierce
hearts will start to open
to love that might have been
no more questions left unanswered
no more traces of tears
smiles will replace sadness
and laughter will fill the atmosphere
for finding happiness is easier
than looking back to not so good memories
nothing left to hold on to
free fall to the world of chances
where better memories will be built
nightmares will turn into dreams
where fairy tales will finally come true.

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by Dine Racoma

There comes a time when thoughts run dry
And no matter what you do you don’t feel anything
Eyes wide open you stare in space, alive but lifeless
Nothing flows from within, it’s just a certain aridity.

No heart, no soul, no anger, no angst, you don’t care at all
Insensitive to pain, hurts, and all outside forces
No degree of nudging could bring you forth
Though detached from the universe, you’re not scared.

People you longed for, people you are with everyday
Who mattered and made a difference in the past
They pass you by now, they come and go but what the heck
Like the noise they are silence, they mean all the same now.

But as life has to go on, it’s inevitable, no doubt
That albeit slowly, in a snap, you wake up from your trance
From nothingness and emptiness, you pick up the pieces
Gather whatever is left of your self worth and start to live again.

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