Cycles

present falls
as feet meets floor
eyes seeing naked—
the past in a mirror
cracks
running on the fragile glass
reflections break,
vanishing fast;

worlds rebuilt
from ruins
of the same rocks
every morning
light, dark,
space and mass
silence, noise
thoughts and touch;

clouds afloat
heavy with memory
ready to pour
waters from old,
used and pure
like the rush
of a wheel that keeps turning
unable to stop;
nothing has changed.

Where to heal, when to hurt?
Where is death, when’s rebirth?

Turn, turn, and find the way;
Know the lines, and join the play!

The meanings don’t make sense
And what make sense are meaningless.
Go on, till we see an end;
Till the curtains start to swing open.

Evelyn Dumag-Gabinete


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Coin

Flipped it too many times
And it spun, it did;
Hesitations summed up in the metallic
Cling-clang on the floor,
While the answer’s as vague as before,
Unsettling if done more than once
That even chance becomes a hoax,
Where guessing would be as good;
Why, all stops at the tangent line
That no one dares to cross;
That edge where it stands on—
The turning point—
When one turns out better
If not worse;
Head basks on the light’s splendor
As the tail lurks in the dark
Casting a faceless shadow;
It begs the question:
Are we better at being exposed
Or at hiding?
One flip more
And the answer’s as vague as before.

Evelyn Dumag-Gabinete


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Forget-me-not

How the tiny petals held on
To make the littlest of beauties—
Woven, sort of, as details
On fabrics made of grass,
Alone or in a crowd;
They make such impression
That one wonders if they’re named as such
Because of that,
Or if they are thus
Only by how they were first called.
Isn’t it lucky
That a shade of blue locked their beauty
In nothing short of nature’s poetry?
No longer do I see colours when I hear it
All with the five blues round a yellow core;
What beauty
A name, a word makes
When it fetches scenes from days before!
A word gives birth to words;
And words give birth to a name.
What mystery;
It baffles me.
So I hear a word now and see
A world of beauty no other word can claim to be
As I remember them,
Would they perhaps remember me?

Evelyn Dumag-Gabinete


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Storm

heart roars
as thunder
sending sparks
to a clouded mind

eyes gray
under heavy lids
letting go
a downpour of tears

thoughts spin in chaos
coming and going
as feelings rise
on a flooded soul

nothing to hold on to
till light breaks in
painting rainbows
at the backdrop of time

Evelyn Dumag-Gabinete


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Continuous

a pulse in the wind
mixed in with the air I breathe

a bird’s own song
carried to where my wings bring me

a silhouette
sculpted behind as I face the sun

I touch
hear
feel
a mark of you
scattered around my world
in every small portion
that my body takes in,
at every drop of beauty
that my soul drinks from,
nourishing
every thought and reason
that my mind keeps within it

to keep my heart beating
and my eyes waking

Love opens up a place
where all your pieces
on a puzzle board
are illuminated,
even when the lights are on,
putting phospors to shame

and time is not capable of diminishing
that ever-steady glow

Evelyn Dumag-Gabinete


This is the #potd poem of the day.

I would love to write a poem for you. See how.
For other featured POTDs, click here.