Random Sounds

random; it is not easy
because the harmony
or the lack of it
is part of creation,
exists with the rhythm
that never breaks
echoing in the vacuum
unexplained tap takes
on invisible keys

what was it
the last note
comes with a word
spoken underneath
the staff lines
measured, unmeasured
unresolved, finished
all but lost in the void

do I hear melodies
in the silence
or the silence
in the melodies;
are we deaf
or do we hear more now
when space is chewed
with the chunks
of tougher pieces?

soak in rivers
stretch the paper
till every line is written
on the blanks
all the ink
become the masks
not to lie or hide
but to give a chance
for a non-intruded
uninterrupted dance

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Liquid Stars

in the misty country morn
on the blades of grass

the dew drops
sparkle
in the first light

once were tears
from the sky
whispered in the air

blown by the breeze
an almost kiss

a distant fire
among the clouds
of a new dawn

the softest
littlest spheres
barely visible

brightens, freshens up
the end of night

in the silence
a spoken jewel
a blessed tale awakens

like fallen meteorites
wishes fading fast

till the last leaf
dries up
the earth coarsens

to breathe once again
saying as it’s always been

live for the morrow
live for yesterday
live yet another day

Hideaway

As the plant is taken
Away from the river
Skies continue to water it
Incessant showers and streams
No visible sign of growth
Flowers wither out of season
Sudden storm
Branches sway struggling
Crackling in the blow
Leaves flavescent suffering
Neither sun nor moonlit glow
But in the deep underworld
Roots thrive in darkness
The speed of which they grow
In the mystery of silence
Surviving mementos of an echo
How each end grasps the earth
No one will ever know
How it takes each single drop
In every rain and melted snow

Way of Life @ Spillwords Press

Hello, dear readers!

My poem Way of Life is now on Spillwords Press. It is about having no regrets with regards to the past while making the most of the present by working hard in an attitude of looking forward to a great future. This poem is a reminder for me too; it raises me up whenever I am at my lowest.

An excerpt:

remember, remember
the ruins, the shadows
the glorious past
and forget not
the beauty, the treasures
that abide
within and without

Read the rest of the piece by clicking on the link below.

http://spillwords.com/way-of-life/

Please do rate it especially if you enjoyed it!

Thank you in advance!

Much love,

Evelyn

Evelyn(poeticasymptote) – Spillwords Press
@sanepoet – twitter/instagram
@poeticasymptoteThe Prose

Ask me to write a poem for you! See how.

Last Leaf

Here’s to the enduring leaf,
the last to fall,
marking the tail winds
of the fall,
the final drop
as autumn leaves
one more warm breath
before its silent collapse—
a golden kiss on the sod
—as a way to welcome
the anticipated arrival,
the severe frosty bite
from the gelid tears
of a frigid winter’s
relentless
blow.

Evelyn Dumag-Gabinete


This is the #potd #poem of the day.

I would love to write a poem for you. See how.

see me at The Prose