Piquance retires to dormancy.
Cold besieged the waning blaze
As days take longer sleep
And I take shelter in dreaming.
My spirit drops
I travel still, but ~
Only now my journey
Winter wouldn’t freeze
Of pristine pages
Ready for my thoughts
To carve icy tracks.
As my mind skids down
To quiescence ~
I wrap myself
From your view,
Retiring to my cocoon
For my travels
I chase the wake of change
Where sunrise breaks on ridges ~
The towering ridges
That lies on quiescence
The rhythm slowed
The pitch dropped
The beats from the drums of summer
Are halted ~ adrenaline waned ~
To give way to the mild strumming of the cords
Switching the sound mood to acoustics.
The dancers changed costume
In colors, but tinged
With earthy tones.
The stage is decorated with melancholy.
The lights subdued,
Shadows more pronounced
From bright to dim.
And then the autumn dance begins.
The dancers take their grand entrance from above;
Pirouetting in the air
Following the rhythms of the wind ~
The rustling sound ~ their music.
The show enraptures
To a colorful dance
As the players in the grandest
Of the show
Take their fleeting turns
On the stage,
Suspended in mid-air,
Before they take a bow
To an inevitable finale ~
One by one ~
They fall to the grounds
Of happy ending
Leaving such lovely clutter ~
One by one ~
They take their corners
Creating colorful tapatries
Covering the earth floors
Like quilts where they become
To pulsating inhabitants
Against the impending cold ~
One by one ~
They take their exit
To a good autumn rest
And winter sleep ~
One by one ~
The audience leave the outdoors,
Acquiescent and resigned
To the shelter
Of their roofs, the brick walls
Taking refuge in the hearth
Of the once dormant fireplace
One by one
The dancers and the audience leave.
The autumn dance ends
To a freeze.
My mind figure skates
As I hear the approaching
What is there left to write,
When my sense of home has faded.
Fallen souvenirs pirouette in the air ~
Leaves dancing downwards ~ like specter.
The ink must wait, and rest til winter is over
(My spirit retires to quiescent under the covers)
Things freeze like the trees, even the lake dozes.
As wakeful hours become less and less,
Mind loses its bluntness,
The page speechless.
Distance drained my veins bloodless
Even the pulse of my pen ceases.
I’m losing grip of the eidolon of home,
It’s warmth I no longer recall.
Like the trees losing their leaves to autumn,
The hands of memories that used to lift me,
For a time, fail to save my spirit to fall.
I let the cruel wanton winds to take me;
I trust the higher will would be kind.
I write my thoughts in the palms of the season,
I trust them to come back in time.
When my sense of home fills me up again;
When revenant of home,
Jeques, 2009. From his “A Traveler’s Soliloquies” poetry collection.
And it’s as if some hands
Switch the whites
The lights off,
And everything else,
All the other colors
Blend with black,
Dissolve to darkness;
Blue and white vanish
To shadows of memory.
Like white and blue
Of summer fun
Kite flying in my mind,
And then a raging storm came
To claim it
Paper kite dissolves
Never to return.
Like paper boats
Sent off to blue ocean,
Wilting to uncertainties.
Cotton soft clouds,
Smudge on blue
On cheeks of youth,
On the calm face of heaven.
And then came
Some turmoil to claim
Lost to time.
Like some hands
Just suddenly let go
Of their grips,
Leaves falling from the trees.
Canopies losing their verdant color
Green is naught,
Belonging to distant
As green concedes
To the will of the season.
Like some hands
Switch all the street lamps off
Just like that,
And the once lighted alleys
Dimmed to fears of uncertainties.
White and blue
And all the vibrant colors
Dissolve to melancholy.
Would it be nice
To walk the dark alleys unafraid,
Holding hands with someone ~
To catch the falling leaves,
To feel warm around each other’s presence
In the midst of rain;
To watch the kite dissolve to skies of memories,
To sail the seas on paper boats,
Summon lost colors
Celebrate white and blue
And to feel safe
Even in black.
The poem is written in memory of my white sony vaio computer, the only thing that stayed and gave me company for the last 3 years, just suddenly went black, and all files gone to untangible memories. My lost made me retrospective of things I lost that I could never re-claim, but my heart is large enough to contain all the memories.
It was total darkness for the past few days, and the leaves are falling outside my window as autumn claims vibrant life from the trees, to give my lost such a gloomy backdrop.
I found company in my new computer, it’s still our getting to know each other stage for now. And oh by the way, my new pc notebook, his color is black.
Lessons From Autumn
BY: Jeques B. Jamora, fall, 2008
The earth calls the leaves to come home
My crying couldn’t stop the changing season.
Like my tears falling on my chest,
The autumn leaves return to the earth’s breast.
The winds of fall sing lonely tunes
The shy smile of dawn turns the day to gloom.
The heavens weep soaking the trees with rain,
As I watch you leave and endure the pain.
Destiny’s taking back my joys of spring,
My crying couldn’t stop you from leaving.
Like the leaves falling to the earth’s bossom,
I’ll await in silence ’til you come home.
The trees and the leaves taught me acceptance;
The earth taught me to wait for second chance.
Note: for background music, please click and play this >>> If I could be where you are
click audio to play soundtrack
I feel for the tree this season
The autumn leavings make me sad.
The tree must be cursing the winds
He doesn’t want his leaves to fall.
Like I sometimes loathe
The changing season
For I don’t want to lose a friend.
I feel sorry for the leaves this season
Their descent makes me sad.
The leaves must be praying
Their would be no rain,
For they’re afraid to fall.
Like I pray the departings
Would be less painful ~
Though I need to set a friend free.
For no matter how the tree keeps its strong grip;
How the leaves keeps on clinging,
And me keeps on holding on ~
I know we need to let go
And accept the changing season.
The tree, the leaves and I
We are sad of the Autumn leavings.
For we don’t want to lose a friend.
Nalalanta ang mga halaman
Plants are wilting.
Nalalagas ang mga dahon
and flowers descending
Natitigang ang lupa
The grounds are drying
Sabay ng pagtulog ng mga batis, ilog at lawa
As the springs, and rivers, and lakes fall asleep
Sa pagsapit ng taglamig.
With the coming of winter.
Sa kanilang pagkaidlip,
On their sleep,
Ang mga puno
Take a bow
At babalik kung saan sila nagsimula ~
Returning where they came ~
To the grounds.
At doon ay hihimplay
And ’tis there that they would sleep
Mag-aabang sa muling pag-agos
To await again for the ebb
Sa kanyang pangungulila,
On his longing,
Sya ay tahimik na maghihintay.
He will await in silence.
Tulad ko rin,
Patuloy na umaasa
Na muli kang babalik
For your return
Upang sa akin ay muling ialay
To give me back
Ang pag-ibig mo
Sa akin ng buhay.
Sa unang pagpatak
On the first drop
Sa pagsapit ng tagsibol,
Ang mga puno.
Will rise again.
Pipintig nang muli
Ang aking puso.
Would start to beat again.
Sa iyong pag-babalik,
In your return,
Ako ay mabubuhay ng muli ~
You will breath me life anew ~
Uusbong ang mga dahon,
The leaves would sprout,
Mula sa mga lanta na sanga ng puno,
From the wilted twigs of the trees
Ang aking pagmamahal
Tulad din ng mga bulaklak
Like the flowers
At Iibig nang muli
And my heart
Ang aking puso.
Will love again.
You came to bring me summer sunshine,
You left to leave me autumn gloom.
Like a speeding train,
What happened to the vibrant days,
Where have my sunshine gone?
Why do the clouds just suddenly
My smile, don’t fade away
Why do you have to give up
Your sunny yellow ~
Have I not brought
Your life some bright lights,
Why do we have to go apart
Would the evening light
In this changing season,
Would it ease
The growing yearning
With its subdued
I rest my heart
In this lonely season.
But I would keep our paths
Of grass growths.
May the railroad
That took you away
Would lead you
And when you’re tired
Chasing the changing seasons,
You could always return
To an endless
Here in my resolute
Now that my petals
Are starting to fall,
If you would still think
Of my colors
When I am gone.
Would you still recall
My sun-kissed hue
Would cover me
With its freezing blankets
Would you hold me
In my sleep
My warm thoughts
In your memory?
At spring time,
Would you wait
For my re-birth
To start life anew?
To welcome you.
Under the sun.
Bunch of buds
Of cherished moments.
The summer sun
Would be ending.
Before it sets,
Let me leave you
With lovely droppings.
May my colors
Would sustain us
‘Til next spring.
‘Til I see you again.
Signs Of Autumn (Haiku)
Found leaf on the sand
Brought by wanton winds of fall
My signs of autumn.
signs of autumn #2 – my initial attempt on photography
I’m watching the leaves falling from the trees outside my window as I write this. Autumn is now on its full-blown glory, trees are displaying their colorful raptures before their leaves descend like showers of confetti, covering the earth floors as if some royalties are coming to walk the path.
Just some weeks ago, I was looking forward to this. Autumn came a little late this year. I was so eager, I searched for signs of autumn in places I went and found only some hints of the impending season.
The leaves do their final waves to the heavens. For the last time, they flirt with the chilly winds and take a bow to a graceful touch down leaving the sleepy trees with bald canopy. I watch the unfolding pageantries outside as I ponder upon my personal journey inside.
I am at the peak of life’s summer season. I still have a sunny temperament as I celebrate my existence. I’m still capable of reinventing myself, welcoming new things, embrace them with child-like enthusiasm and with a grown-up patience. But like I did weeks back, I’m also searching myself for signs of autumn. For I know that soon, I, too, will fall on the same ground and take my final bow. I remember a beautiful line from the movie, My House In Umbria ~ “We can not hold on to something beautiful forever, even to summer.”
And so, here I am, in the middle of fall, caught on the web of profound contemplations. Could this be an indication of my autumn?
I’m becoming more of a mind person now than physical that I used to be when I was younger. I now prefer the laid back than the hurried kind of lifestyle which I enjoyed in my teen’s to late 20’s. My idea of fun has mellowed like my taste for music. I’m beginning to like the classic ways of dressing ~ gone is my peacock choice for colors. I would now be a pale leaf when placed among the verdant leaves of youth. I’m fading to earth tone colors, but keeping to memory my colorful youth.
I still have enough years to spend before my autumn. Instead of fearing it, I’d like to face it head-on. Like the leaves, I would like to display my best waves to heavens. I’m taking aging cheerfully like I’m taking my being single lightly.
30’s And Still Single(Humor Poem)
By: Jeques B. Jamora
When you’re still single at your 30’s
You’re apt to be asked with some questions.
Like I’m always asked during weddings by my Aunties:
“So, are you next in line?” (to get married)
I oft find this question so annoying,
But I don’t get mad, I just get even.
So during funerals When I meet them,
Please don’t dare me ask them that same question:
“So, are you next in line?” (to be burried)
For I’ll surely get a slap in my face.
I would like to dally some more with the winds, and with life. I would like to display my brilliant hues before they finally fade, before I totally loss my colors and perform my final bow to a slow graceful landing.
I would like to come home to my creator and bring Him good stories and tell Him: “God, here I am, I did all that. I’ve come home.”
My Anthropomorphism To A Leaf
By: Jeques B. Jamora, 2006
Leaves are like pages, as books are trees.
I, a leaf in God’s verdant forests ~
A single thread on earth’s tapestries.
I awake in the morning of springtime
Lift my face towards the azure skies
I’m in tune with the universe’s rhyme.
I dance with the rhythms of mild zephyr
That oscillates me with its genial whisks
God’s omnipresence fills my need for air.
I am cleansed by the pristine rain shower,
Moisturized by mists, polished by the winds ~
I glow with the steady gaze of summer.
When I turn red and fall on October,
I hope you create something out of me,
Before my descent to earth in winter.
I could be greeting cards for lonely hearts.
Write a poem about my fleeting life.
Immortalize my beauty in your arts.
Insert me in the page of your book,
For ’tis in your core that I’ll find my nook.
signs of autumn #1 – my initial attempt on photography