Cover Story

I write because I feel that something inside me needs to be said, a voice wanting to be heard, a seed needing to see the light of day. . .

I discovered that when I express myself in writing, I need an ideal shape and form for my thoughts to be fully understood. I allow my heart and my intuition to guide me to pick the right pattern to entwine with the music of my soul that gives rhythm to my poetry. I value clarity and honesty, they are the be-all and end-all of my works.

I write my poems because I feel them, I believe them, they are my truth ~ they are me. I don’t give my pieces limitations as to their form and shape. Some pieces want to be all over the pages like a simple poetic journal entry. . .

“what now? I don’t know. I ride the tides, sail with the wanton winds lossing my anchor. Wherever it will take me, there I am. I just hope one day the tides and the winds will take this vessel back to you to anchor me. . . “

Some wanted to be written in free verse. . .

People

Places

Things

Nature,

Life

Offer abundant inspirations.

Some occur only in my imagination

Silent illusions ~

Writings done initially in the mind:

Dreams in my sleep.

But like seeds seeing the light of day,

They sprout from their coats

Grow leaves

Take roots

And display colorful blooms

When I awake.

They become sketches in words ~

Stories, poems, music of my soul

Written on pages.

Stories not told die.

Dreams remain in the shadows

If we don’t live them.

Random thoughts nag me.

My hands itch to write

My body has to live my thoughts.

I allow them. 

And that’s when Poetry Becomes me.

Other thoughts are expressed better in Haiku. . .

Sublime Ruler(Haiku)

Majestic ridges

                       Enthroned on placid blue sea

                                                              Crowned by fluffy clouds.

Senryu. . .

Hunters live to take

                      Gardeners exist to give

                                                   But both shepherd life.

Tanka. . .

The best of prayers

Are chants from the heart in songs.

I don’t have a gift

A voice to pray in a song.

So I’m praying though my poems.

Others may need to be written in vignette. . .

As the sun sets to the west

I lay, shut-eyed, on its chest.

The eastern breeze pass a gentle whisk on my face.

I listen closely to the songs of the sea

As the waves come home

Like a lover breaking down

To the chest of the waiting shore.

I lay there and wait.

While some require refinements like in sonnet. . .

A Walk Around The Oval

Once more I walk the oval track today,
And ponder yet again, “What is my role?”
Am I just making circles every day
In life’s arena, like an errant soul?
I walk around the never ending trail:
A fallen leaf caught in a swirling stream;
Or like an army, ever locked in drill.
I am engrossed and walk in my own dream.
Some strangers share my lane but not my muse.
You’re far, and yet, our thoughts are much the same;
I’m not alone then in the road I choose;
Beyond the oval someone shares my lane.

                    In you my lonesome soul finds home to stay,
                    For in my heart you’re near, you’re here with me.

And still others are better left as prose.

I listen to my heart when chosing a structure because if I follow my mind, free verse just disguises the laziness in my thoughts and execution, and the formal verse just sugar-coats my bloodless triviality. The heart recognizes the difference, and so I write only with my heart.

Most of my earlier works are written in the morning when my job still allow me to wake up at dawn for my morning pages. Now that I work night shift, afternoon becomes my morning ~ so it is safe to say that I write when I rise, whatever the time of day. It is important that I capture my thoughts as soon as it start to reveal itself because when I miss them, they are lost forever. It’s like an entangled thread that I need to find its  loose end and writing helps me untangle my thoughts to clarity.

“Tis great to think with a free mind;

                               ’tis wonderful to love with an unretrained heart.”

These words speak my life’s mantra, and I found my enlightenment by writing.

I hope my written works, the songs of my soul will find home in your hearts. Because when you read them, you’re listening to this tyke’s voice, and I allow you to take a peek to my waif soul.

I wish you well.

~ Jeques

“Mamang”

~

I call my mother “Mamang.” That’s how both my parent’s family call their mothers, and that’s how we are taught as kids to call her. It is Mamang’s Birthday today, but I called to greet her yesterday because the Philippines’ time is 12-13 hours ahead than my time here in Chicago.

She is 60 years old now and I am in her life for 35 years. Everybody know that I am my mother’s favorite, and I can safely claim that. She is a nurturing mother and that’s true of her to all her four children, even to our father. And she never failed to show this since I can remember.

It is always hard to write something for my mother. Even if I know she will never get to read this (I don’t let my family read my blog ~ they don’t even know I’m doing this). When you hold somebody dear in your heart, words are just not enough. It is my dream to write great stories about her ~ I have started writing a long narrative piece for her and it’s still in progress. I’ve been working on it since 2005, and still under way. She deserves the honor in my writings for she is my first reader, my greatest fan, my source of inspiration. She did not taught me how to write but she taught me how to tell stories. When we write, we have imagined readers in our mind and for me, my mother is one of the readers I consider when I write. That’s one of the reason maybe why I always aim for clarity in my works. My mother always like to read uncomplicated materials.

My mother is always proud in whatever I do. She’s the reason why I kept my life in the right path: I promised myself not to do anything that would make my mother less proud of me. And I have kept that promise. 

Mamang is my life.

~

You’re more than everything I asked for,

More than anything I need.

 

You are my son,

My beloved.

~

You breathe me life so I may live,

You’re the very reason I existed.

 

Mamang, you are my life.

 

To you,

 I am indebted.

~

An excerpt from the long narrative I’m writing for my mother. This is “Mother and Child,” a part, sung by the characters in that work in progress.

Happy Birthday Mamang!

In time, you will read this. And I know you will be proud of me.

 

~ Jeques

 

 

100th

~

Clean Slate (Tanka)

By: Jesus B. Jamora

.

Take off your old skin

Another chance is given.

Start on a clean slate,

Fresh page awaits your pen ~

Your new journey now begins.

~

What brought me here? I believe in divine providence, that explains my coming here and how I started Jeques’s Web Nook.

~

Conspiracy Theory (Senryu)

By: Jesus B. Jamora

~

Celestial forces

Conspire for my heart’s desires ~

Divine providence.

~

I created a thread at pinoyexchange.com: http://www.pinoyexchange.com/forums/showthread.php?t=293811. I received some good entries, but my thread became less exciting with the dropping number of readers and contributors, until from nowhere came Totomai http://distillingthoughts.blogspot.com/  expressing his interest on the Haiku which was the form I used to write my pieces: “Scents Of Childhood.” It was a productive exchanges. He got inspired and posted a blog about the Haiku: http://distillingthoughts.blogspot.com/search/label/Haiku and I was encouraged to create my own blog which brought me here. Totomai introduced me to blogging. He pave me the way to start something I always wanted to do. He was instrumental in my creation of my Jeques’s Web Nook, so I could have my own corner to express my thoughts. He brought me here, and I’m forever grateful.

Three months later, and this post, my 100th entry. I have so far posted more than a hundred poems, some of my paintings, my initial attempts on photography, journal entries, essays and random thoughts. I have meet many valuable friends, visited and read many blogs that link me to many new frontiers and possibilities I never thought existed, got inspired and moving forth from here. But I always go back to that incessant vision:

“. . . of me in my mind: standing on the bank of a river, I watch the waters flow, and wonder where the river came, and where life goes. I can only look as far as my eyes can see and my heart can imagine.”

I thank God for giving me a venue to praise Him with my works through my gift that He gave. I thank Totomai for paving the way. I thank all of you who visited, read, left comments in my nook which inspire and encourage me. You became my friend in this new community I’m starting to be familiar with and I’m beginning to enjoy. You play a part in the universal conspiracy that brought me here.

The leaves are like pages, as books are trees.

And I, a leaf in God’s verdant forests `

I’m a single thread on God’s tapestries.

~

I wish you all well.

~ Jeques

 

 

 

My Home, Your Heart

~

‘Tis in your loving heart that I found home.

This orphaned soul roamed, wandering alone.

To find a shelter he can call his own.

I travelled distances, I reached the moon.

With your bright eyes, back to earth I was drawn.

.

I know you’re not mine, but for now ’tis fine.

I know the grounds I stand, I draw the line.

But when I’m with you, I feel so complete.

‘Tis like coming home, embracing my fate.

.

And how else should I see it, in what way?

When all things seemingly are meant to be.

I am not sure of everything in me.

But why with you, I found my certainty.

‘Tis like coming home to eternity.

~ 

 

No Complaints

I should know by now that true happiness comes not from the things I possess but by being grateful for every little thing that I have. I learned it the hard way, but I learned it anyway. I stopped wanting things I don’t have and play around the things I own; everything beyond that are but a bonus, a consolation, a surprise ~ my secret to happiness. Wants became just a part of my wish list, I work on them, yes, but my happiness doesn’t depend on them ~ they are rewards for my labor. I make sure I deserve them, I do.

At this time last year, I was reviewing for the NCLEX. One of the professor asked me how I’m going to spend my first Thanksgiving in America. I was clueless, we don’t really celebrate this holiday in the Philippines, so I said, work. And added, I will celebrate it better next year. I have passed the exam and would be an RN, I could celebrate the real essence of thanksgiving by then.

I am an RN now.

I was excited last week to find that thanksgiving falls on my day off. I made plans in my head how I’m going to spend my first thanksgiving. But it was a fleeting kind of joy. Call of duty ruins everything, my plans evaporated to crisp chilly air when I got a call just now informing  me that I need to work this holiday.

I remember the voice of the professor asking how I’m going to spend my thanksgiving. After a year my answer is the same, work. But I should be grateful still, going to work this holiday is my way of celebrating the real essence of thanksgiving. I am an RN now, I was just wishing and praying for this last year ~ it was granted. I need to pay forward for the blessing. A turkey in my table, dining alone in my apartment is not enough to express my gratitude to God for granting my prayer. Working, serving and caring for sick people at this time of the year would.

Today, I have no complaints. Instead I read a note I kept for all my blessings.

In the past there was no electricity, nor there were lamps

Life must be dark then, but grateful people thanked the heavens for the stars.

~ 

There were no houses then, nor roofs over their heads.

It must be so uncomfortable then, but grateful people find joy in the shelter of caves, trees. Their was no rent to pay. They don’t pay anything to have a place to call home.

~ 

There were no faucets then, nor water system.

 It must be hard then, but grateful people bless the streams, the river, the lakes, the sweet milk of earth for they are nourished.

~

There was no table, nor there were grocery stores to buy foods.

Life must have been tough then, but grateful people celebrate the real essence of thanksgiving for the abundant harvest in the wild ~ they have the whole earth to shop. No credits to pay.

~

There were no pillows and blankets, nor there were warm bed to rest their backs.

It was not an easy life then, but grateful people find warm in each other. The lullabies of the earth and the canopy of heavens bless them with peaceful sleep.

~

I can go on and on with my list, I have more to write but lets stop it here, write them yourself so you will know how the modern world is trully blessed.

But there are only a few left of the grateful people. The modern world is breeding more of the unhappy people with insatiable needs, and yet they are celebrating thanksgiving.

This is my second thanksgiving since I came to America. I’m still clueless on how to celebrate it. But I know in my heart the real essence of thanksgiving.

Happy Holidays everyone!

I wish you well.

~ Jeques  

Q&A

I’ve been quite unwell lately. It started last saturday morning (For those not in the know, I’m a night shift nurse), I went to sleep from work and woke up at 11am with bad chills. So for the next 4 days I manage to do my night shifts with slight fever. I am really less creative when I’m sick, but that doesn’t stop me from doing something. Yesterday afternoon with 98.9 F temperature, I cleared my hotmail mailbox from old files and found this Q & A e-mail I got from my poet friend Benjamin Mosley(I met him at poets.com workshop, we lost contact when I stopped). I thought of answering the questions and share some more of my self with you. 

1. FIRST NAME?      Jesus, Jeques.

2. WERE YOU NAMED AFTER ANYONE? My father has a story why he named me Jesus. He said he prayed a son for a youngest and promised I would be named Jesus when it is granted, it was and I got my name. But in highschool, I feel so uncomfortable with my name. This was the time when I was expelled from the seminary. I feel undeserving of my name, so I think of a neckname for my self. I first spelled it as “Jecks,” and eventually change the spelling to “Jeques.”  I think I deserve a name that I would like people to be calling me now that I’m grown up and have the freedom to choose. 

3. WHEN DID YOU LAST CRY?  I cried just yesterday feeling so sick and remembering home. I’ve been living alone since I moved here in Chicago last year and I’m fine. But it’s different when you’re sick.

4. DO YOU LIKE YOUR HANDWRITING?     Yes.

5. WHAT IS YOUR FAVORITE LUNCHMEAT?  Porkchop, drumstick

6. KIDS?       I’m the only kid in my apartment.

7. IF YOU WERE ANOTHER PERSON, WOULD YOU BE FRIENDS WITH YOU?     Yes, I think I would. I’ve been spending my life alone with myself and I feel comfortable with my company. I’ve come to terms with myself already and made peace with the person within me.

8. DO YOU HAVE A JOURNAL?   I write poetry. I used to keep scrapbooks that served as my journal when I was still in the Philippines and had the time. But now, my web nook has become my journal.

9. DO YOU USE SARCASM A LOT?   When circumstances call for it.

10. DO YOU STILL HAVE YOUR TONSILS?  Yes.

11. WOULD YOU BUNGEE JUMP?    It’s one of those things I wanted to try, but would rather not.

12. WHAT IS YOUR FAVORITE CEREAL?     Rice, I’m a Filipino, eh.

13. DO YOU UNTIE YOUR SHOES WHEN YOU TAKE THEM OFF?   No.

14. WHAT IS YOUR FAVORITE ICE CREAM FLAVOR?   Mango, but I don’t really crave for ice cream.

15. DO YOU THINK THAT YOU ARE STRONG?   I am. In the sense that I’m able to rise above any situation that life throws on me. I’ve been through a lot, and I’m still standing.

16. SHOE SIZE?   6 and 1/2 to 7

17. RED OR PINK?   Red.

18. WHAT IS YOUR LEAST FAVORITE THING ABOUT YOURSELF? I want to get things done to the point of over exhausting myself. Sometimes, I don’t know when to say stop.

19. WHOM DO YOU MISS THE MOST?    My family back home, my mother.

20. DO YOU WANT EVERYONE TO SEND THIS BACK TO YOU?  Yes. I want to find out how other people answer these questions.

21. WHAT COLOR PANTS AND SHOES ARE YOU WEARING?    Khaki/white, Denim blue/white

23. WHAT ARE YOU LISTENING TO RIGHT NOW?  Greatest pop ballads

24. IF YOU WERE A CRAYON, WHAT COLOR WOULD YOU BE? darker shade of green

25. FAVORITE SMELL?    the salty scent of the sea, early morning smoky scent of woods burning in the farm, freshly cut grass, ricefields the morning after rain. They remind me of childhood.

26. WHO WAS THE LAST PERSON YOU TALKED TO ON THE PHONE?     My mother.

27. THE FIRST THING YOU NOTICE ABOUT PEOPLE?   The sincerity in their eyes.

28. DO YOU LIKE THE PERSON THAT SENT THIS TO YOU?  Ben helped me a lot when I was starting to write poetry. He helped me polished some of my early works. I like him for the willing mentor that he is to me.

29. FAVORITE DRINK?    Coke’s Zero(Calories), Orange Juice

30. FAVORITE SPORT? I’ve never been into sports. The closest to sports I love to do is long walks – I used to do regular early morning walks in the beach when I was still in the Philippines. And I miss that.

31. EYE COLOR?       Brown.

32. HAT SIZE?  Oh, I didn’t know they have sizes.

33. DO YOU WEAR CONTACTS?        No.

34. FAVORITE FOOD?   Home cooked filipino foods.

35. SCARY MOVIE OR HAPPY ENDING?      Happy endings, we’re running out of stories with happy endings in real life already, in fiction at least we should.

36. LAST MOVIE YOU WATCHED AT THE MOVIES?   I’ve never been to a movie theatre since I came here. The last movie I watch was Superman 4 in the Philippines at SM Mall of Asia.

37. WHAT COLOR SHIRT ARE YOU WEARING?        Mostly whites.

38. WINTER OR SUMMER?  Summer, but since I moved here, I think I like winter, too. (Make up your mind, Jeques!)

39. HUGS OR KISSES?    Hugs then kisses, why choose if I could have them at the same time.

40. FAVORITE DESSERT?    Fruits.

41. WHO IS MOST LIKELY TO RESPOND?     Those that are not busy. Or maybe those who are sick and looking for something good to do like me at this moment.

42. WHO IS LEAST LIKELY TO RESPOND?   Those that don’t know themselves much and would have stopped answering at number 3.       

43. WHAT BOOK ARE YOU READING?  A Poet’s Guide to Poetry By: Mary Kinzie.

44. What’s ON YOUR MOUSE PAD?  I don’t use one.

45. WHAT DID YOU WATCH ON TV LAST NIGHT?  I stopped watching TV since I started painting.

46. FAVORITE SOUND?   gentle seawaves in the beach, silence. 

47. ROLLING STONES OR BEATLES?      I didn’t really grew up listening to their music.

48. THE FURTHEST YOU’VE BEEN FROM HOME?     Now, Chicago.

49. WHAT IS YOUR PRESENT OCCUPATION?   I’m a Nurse.

50. WHERE WERE YOU BORN? The Philippines.

51. WHO SENT THIS TO YOU?    My Poet friend, Benjamin Mosley.

~ 

You are invited to participate with me on this.  Here’s how:

Copy this entirely and paste it into a new e-mail.  Change all the answers so that they apply to you and then send this to a whole bunch of people including me.

Just give in and do it!  The theory is that you will reveal little known things about yourself to people that you aren’t too afraid of knowing you better and that you will come to know them better as they respond.  It is supposed to be fun, and most of the questions are easy to answer.

Prayers, Unsaid

~

I pray that you’d never learn to forget,

Even if spaces take away your heart.

I hope tomorrow you would not regret,

When distant places would take us apart.

.

Listen to our melodies, they’re inside your core,

And smell the sweet fragrance of our passion.

They will bring back the mirths we shared before,

Like hued photographs in our soul’s vision.

.

I pray that you would always remember,

Even if time erases memories.

I hope tomorrow you’d still keep me dear,

‘Til the time we both conclude our stories.

.

Feel the fine sands in the soles of your feet.

Their tender touch will remind you of me.

Like waves to the shore we, too, will soon meet.

And kiss through the salty breeze of the sea.

.

I pray that God’s hands keep us together,

Even if moments pass us by swiftly.

I hope tomorrow will bring forever,

For God’s gift of love binds us endlessly.

~

Rising: Welcoming The Light

~

As I draw the curtains open ~

Welcoming the lights to my room ~ in the morning,

I’m warmly greeted by ethereal scenery

From my window of the garden.

.

Velv’ty petals, captivating.

Ferns’ fronds waving, pruned bonsai trees, green leaves sparkling.

The morning dew trickles on the leaves, like pearls dripping.

My secret treasures, my blessings.

.

Along, a light soundtrack playing

Of winds whistling and birds in the background chirping.

Close eyes, I inhaled the eucalyptus essence

Wafting the air of the morning.

.

A breeze steals me a tender kiss

In my mind, I draw someone’s face, and lips, and wished.

Evanescence, with open eyes my wish vanished.

‘Tis gone, like a dream, leaves no trace.

.

Fruits mellow as I wake today.

Seeds sprout, birds perch and nestle in the mango tree.

Fishes swim in the pond, confined yet feeling free.

Tendrils cling, vines rising, like me.

~

I Lost You In The Skies (Vignette)

~

I see birds flying west as I look at the gray morning skies.

In my hand, I hold a glass of cold water.

In my heart, I contain the pain of letting you go.

I drink the cold water and along swallow the lump in my throat knowing that I’m losing my true love forever.

The cold water numbs my heart.

I look at the skies one more time to see the birds, or perhaps it is you I want back. But the birds are gone. I see only empty skies, like the void you left in my heart when we bade goodbye.

This is how I’m going to hold this day in my thoughts.

I lost you in the skies.

~

~ Jeques, 121305

Sad Poems, Why?

Abyss

By: Jeques B. Jamora

~

I found you in the abyss of the unxpected.

I caught your hands in a loose grip ~

You held my hands tight.

So I tried to hold you for as long as I could.

But your grip loosens with the passing of time.

Later, ’tis only me left holding on.

I need to catch my breath

Being in this deep chasm for awhile.

So I let you slip away,

Losing you back to the dark void.

I tread the shallow waters of the expected since then.

I know you are there somewhere,

But I lost the heart

To plunge back

To the abyss of the unexpected ~

.

For I don’t want to drown again.

~

 

Anonymity, My initial attempt on Photography.

~ 0 ~

I love to write sad poems, and read them. I may wear a happy facade, but I know inside me resides a lonely child. I find pleasure in keeping my tears in the corner of my eyes, and feeling that lump in throat while writing.

So I connect to that part of me by composing sad poems.

I nurture the fertile grounds of my lonely self to grow seeds of sad poems. I allow myself to chant sad hymns , if that’s what my soul wanted to sing. I listen, for that’s the path I should take to healing.

~

Memoir Of Our Love’s Twilight(Sonnet) 

By: Jeques B. Jamora 

I watch the gray twilight through my window

‘Tis dark, and I can’t see the setting sun.
 

The dusk is darkened by the cloud’s shadow;

The birds that criss-cross the skies are now gone.

My eyes trace the silhouette of a tree;

‘Tis there, but like you, I no longer see.

You’re into places since I set you free;

Oft I wonder if you still think of me.

Tonight, as I rove to the land of dreams,

I hold your thoughts close, afraid to drop you

And lose you in to oblivion’s dark streams.

Oft I doubt if you keep me that way, too.                                

Tomorrow, when the sun would rise again,

I pray there’ll be no clouds, and will not rain.

~

What If

By: Jeques B. Jamora

 

What if the poet in me dies,

What if my morning greetings loss its rhymes?

What if my passion is gone,

And there’s nothing left undone?

.

What if’s, too many to hold

I should just carry on.

.

What if you’ve got enough of me,

And get bored of me?

What if you shut me up, and oh God,

You would stop, just like that?

.

What if everything are done,

You and me forever gone?

.

Let it be written then among the stars in the skies,

And here on earth engrave them in the stones ~

That once, there was love here ~

‘Tis pure~

Though ’tis human for a man.

~

For more sad poems, click here:

http://jeques.wordpress.com/category/sad-poems/