Taming This Tyke's Voice Since 2007


There’s something inside this mind
That needs to be written.
There’s some story in this ground I tread
That needs to be told,
In time ~
Under every corner of the skies,
Strewn in the places we inhabit,
Are kernel of tales
Awaiting the break of day
To give it light
So we may fathom the mysteries
Ingrained beneath,
Take notice ~
I paid each speck of details
Parading by my facade
The precious attention it deserves.
I’m not content just passing glances.
For a moment I give myself,
Completely ~
An spectator engrossed
Taking the precious gifts
Others may have declined,
And failed to see,
 The beauty in little things ~
I refused to ignore.
Moments pass by swiftly,
But I noticed the colorful confetti
From the autumn canopies above me
and the crisp rustling
Of the autumn leaves carpeting my paths
As I walk on,
In brisk ~
Romancing the breeze of long ago,
Carrying the same dusts
Of generations that once walked this path.
A piece of me stays here:
A drop of sweat, of tear
A skin peel, a strand of hair
Mixing with the quilts of time
And I move forth, 
Questions answered ~
Fathomed ~
In time,
Take notice
The beauty in little things
In brisk,
And find me there.

2 responses

  1. dear jeques,

    it’s a wonderful reverie, to start with. i actually felt what it is when you describe the pathways through the park, of bits and pieces on this life’s tapestry. you breath, you weave a timeless place where solitude resides. i like the beauty in small things, that mattered, that encapsulates the bigger picture of dreams and existence.

    the quilts of time, and that is how it perfectly fitted the poem. different patches, colorful and happy and sad rolled into one. i enjoyed reading this poem.

    AM00000060000005429 10, 2007 at 12:00 am02

  2. Fathomed is one of the most technical poems I’ve written. I built the poem using a pattern of a line between every stanza(highlighted in yellow) – like footpaths – as the poem decodes the meaning within in itself. I used the “footpaths” lines collectively in the final stanza to encapsule the idea: fathomed.

    When we follow the trails of some thoughts we find ourselves following some footpaths we don’t understand completely until we reach a destination where we find the essence of all the roads we took to get there.

    No one could really claim to have come close to understand the meaning of life – it’s something that every generation attempts to understand and tries to explain, but it’s different to every person, place and time.

    I can only try to fathom some bits of it laid before me as I move forth.

    I wish you well.

    ~ Jeques

    AM00000090000004829 10, 2007 at 12:00 am02

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