Taming This Tyke's Voice Since 2007

letting go

Caged

 

Briefly

Our hands clasped

Against the grated wire screen

Separating

Keeping

Our worlds closely

Apart.

 

It’s a painful union.

 

We see the flowers,

But we can’t pick them.

A banquet is laid 

On the table,

But we can’t celebrate

The feast

Together.

We both have wings

Watching the unfriendly

Sky

But only one

Of us 

Is free to fly.

 

You pulled me

Closer ~

“Does love hurts

Like when the barbs

Pierce the palms? “

Being close to you

Feels painfully

That good.

 

I draw you

Towards me,

But you hesitate

Acquiesced to the customs

Of your world

That defines

A different you

From what I know.

 

I don’t have a heart

To force you out

To my world,

Even if it would mean

Your freedom ~

 

If the barbs

Pierce your wings.

 

I know how that hurts.

 

I let go

Of our clasped hands

And free you

In your cage ~

Aversely ~

I claim the Sky

To a lonely flight.

 

I am free.

 

(Jeques, 2009. From his A Traveler’s Soliloquies poetry collection)

 

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The Autumn Leavings

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. 


First Love, Lost (Sonnet)

~

A tiny seed is dozing in my heart.
‘Tis strange and fragile to my youthful mind.
But like a cub, ’tis untamed in the start,
And always on the look out for its kind.
Defenses look useful to coat it thick.
I’m scared to face the things my mind not ken.
Disguises mask the pain and love with trick,
Like when you left and I was heart broken.
Though bruised, the seed of hope rises to grow.
Despite the tears you caused it flourish here.
He treads the world alone and shining through.
Your face, your lips and kisses he’ll revere.

~
This frail seed is a would-be seasoned tree.
My sweet first love, the seedling you set free!

~


The Narrowed Road

Life taught me the hard lessons of parting early on. My first best friend was a classmate from childhood I met during my first day in grade school. I’m not sure how his name was spelled, but I remember it sounded like “Hanibal.” My memory of his name is as bleak as my memory of how he looks – I only have a blur image of a boy my age with a new haircut. But I remember the joy finding another young soul to share my thoughts when we first entered the door of education.

Our friendship begun as soon as our first class in grade one started. We met in a classroom that smelled of the mixed scents of fresh pads, newly plastic covered notebooks encased in our new school bags like our minds ready to be filled with knowledge. The smell of freshly sharpened pencil and scented eraser would always bring me back to that moment. I remember the fresh scent of soap when I bathed that morning excited for my first day in school. I forgot the color of the clothes I wore, but I still remember how my new shirt smells. The scents of these things always conjure nostalgic thoughts, reminding me of my first best friend I lost with the passing of time.  The places we reached and continually explore widen the spaces between us, and narrowed the road that once put us together at one moment in time. But in my mind we always share the desk, in that corner of our grade one classroom.

I was seated in the front row at the right side of the room next to him, a stranger just like all the other faces around me. It was fate that placed us seated next to each other, but it was our choice to become friends. The feeling of being left alone for the first time, drew us together. I feel at ease with his presence the moment we first introduced our names. We became friends before our first recess, and by the end of our first day in school, we have found in each other’s company the joy of real friendship. I cannot remember any other details of our days together, like I cannot recall anything more about him. I just know that he made my first day in school less scary to the surprise of my mother who anticipated the worse. I easily got over my separation anxieties and fear of strangers. I looked forward being back in school and always take home fun-filled stories at dinner time, telling my family about my newly found friend.

 

Morning comes and off it goes.

Like people come and (ouch!) they go.

For some brief moment they come my way,

But few are meant to stay.

Life’s lesson of letting go,

And memories remain with me.

Days passed. Our school activities progressed, school became my second home. But one day, I found myself unusually seated alone in our desk. My friend was absent when our teacher checked our attendance. I waited for him until recess, but lunch and afternoon classes came and gone without him. The same thing happened the next day and the days after. Our teacher some few weeks later changed our seating arrangement, making me vacate the desk we shared in our classroom where the emblems of our friendship vanished. I later heard their family moved to another place and he transferred to another school far away that my young mind then was incapable of reaching. I was assigned a new desk in the second row at the center aisle of the room after that and had new seatmates. From time to time I would glace to our desk wishing him back. My new seatmates are faceless and left my memory insignificant traces so were the other friends I had after we parted. I only remember one friend from my first day in school and he is my first real best friend.

 Life taught me early on that some perfect moments could go wrong. Friends come, but I could not expect them to stay, for like me, they too, have lives to live and journeys to complete. I am not sure if my friend remembers or would have the same thoughts. My friend may forget, but as long as I still know how the classroom desk smells he will always be remembered.

"Solitude" oil on canvas 24x30, by Jeques B. Jamora, 2007


When The Feeling Is Gone

touching the sand 

 Bay-bay, Roxas City, Philippines. January 30, 2008

 

 

I tried to dip my toes in the water,

To try to re-live the past;

To check if the feeling is still there,

But the magic is gone.

The things that used to remind me of you

Has become just ordinary things as they were,

For they are.

Back to the way they used to be.

 

I used to see your face in the flowers

Now I only see petals.

The cotton clouds in the sunny skies

Don’t form to spell your name anymore ~

Not even the stars.

 

kisses in the breeze gone

Bay-bay, Roxas City. Philippines. January 30, 2008

    

 

The arched sky ceased to echo your memories like before,

I don’t feel your kisses in the breeze anymore.

 

I’m sorry,

But I think we lost the magic.

  

 

I didn’t feel the usual thrill

In my return;

I didn’t feel your presence

When the brines caressed my toes,

And stopped to yearn for your embrace.

The sands even failed to tickle the soles of my feet

Like your thoughts

Unable to summon up my fancy.

Archives in my heart

Boracay Island, Philippines. January 26, 2008

So now I gather the sweet ruins

From our past

Becoming just part

Of my valued collections.

They are safe in a folder

In my memory;

You are treasured in a vault

In my heart as ever.

Only now you belong

To the archives.

~