Science bent my faithful lens to doubt
The disclosure of the mystic;
(Anything that comes out his mouth
Violates what is pragmatic!)
Until my lens is corrected
By almost drowning in the sea;
On a large boulder I was pushed
Even if I did not agree;
By floating from the depth of death
After being hit on the head
By falling fruits and out of breath --
To the brink of death I was led;
By almost running bike over
An innocent large buffalo,
Which misty helmet made unclear;
(Good that I did not further go!)
As I go by the bamboo grass,
Its leaves start to sway and rustle
As though the wind were there to pass
From the wings of Guardian Angel.
BINABASA MO ANG
Kurit and Other Poems
PoetryA poem is partly like a recipe. A poet has to have a cupful of experiences, a spoonful of creativity, a tinge of inspiration, and a bit of solitude. These pieces are combined and mixed without any external stirring but by a mere desire for self-expr...
