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Michael Joseph Dec 2021
Under the blankets are marks of love and hate
For you and our never-ending struggle;
Claws marked under the skin, or swords of words
Marred and married to my bones.

Still talking to you in my head, tiny voices lingering
For the beating that slowly recuperates, with wild imaginings
Of healing and warmth of the faithful forgiving
Embracing the cold of the storm and the thundering

Blows that echoes deep in the night
In my momentary solitude, once ours.

Once hours of love, now marked, blighted
The faithful, the living, leaving with scars.

Under the blankets are traces of you
Marred and married in my skin,
Wounded deep with pain
- The heat lost its flame.
I wrote this poem for all of you guys who are going through a toxic relationship and felt wronged. We can get through this together.
Michael Joseph Dec 2019
They were all looking at the bubbles then it popped.

“Argh! My eyes! Ma!”

“I told you, you’re not supposed to stare at the bubbles when it floats right on your eyes”
“But it’s beautiful and I see the mini-rainbows while it wobbles in the sky.”
The mother and the child went staring at the bubbles floating as they fly above the orange skies.
He blew another, carefully - eyes shining with excitement.
“Look, Mom! This one is bigger! I blew it slower than the other, this one will not pop.”

The cold wind blew with the ruffling of the grass as if clapping.
The bubble wobbled and wobbled on the orange sky
Passed by the resting sun, magnifying its beauty, it glittered.
The boy’s eyes shimmered in excitement.


“Not again!” the boy sighed in exasperation.”
He asked, “Where do bubbles go when they pop?”
She looked at him intently.
She smiled, “they become the clouds, like tiny bubbles watching over us.”
“Why would they watch over us?”

“For in time, they will know that the sun will burn our skin, then they will come as rain.”

“Well, let me make more bubbles, so we can play with You in the rain.”

Don’t Forget the Bubbles
Praying for the intercession of St. Philomena and St. Elizabeth Seton, patron saint of infants and parents who have lost their child.
For the young soul of  Von Abraham Tapit, may you rest in peace.
For Mercy Aguilar Tapit Lito Tapit Divine Grace Aguilar Tapit Eunice Tapit Mary Evangeline Tapit Eman Tapit Riza C. Tapit
Michael Joseph Nov 2019
sa isang minsan
naglaro ang tadhana,
pinagtagpo ang mga mata
ng dalawang uhaw sa kahulugan

sa isang minsan
nagsimula ang tagu-taguan,
mga salitang walang kahulugang
sinasambit ng mga labing mapagpanggap,

sa isang minsan
nagdikit ang mga labi,
pilit itinago ang init na nadama
ngunit mga ngiti natin ang nagsasabi

sa isang minsan
maipapakita natin sa lahat
na nandito tayo para sa isa’t-isa
at di na kailangan pang matakot sa panghuhusga

sa isang minsan,
kailangan nating maniwala
sa pagdating ng oras at tadhana,
magkasamang lalaya,
sa isang minsan

masasambit rin natin ang ating pagsinta,
sa isang sulyap na walang takot,
walang alinlangan,
sa isang minsan

ang minsan ay magiging walang hanggan,
panghabang-buhay, kahit saan,
kahit kailan, kahit anong oras
sa isang minsan

darating rin na magtutugma ang tadhana
kaya’t makontento muna tayo
sa mga nakaw na sandali,
sa isang minsan

magtatagpo ang ating mga mata at ngiti
kahit na walang kahulugan,
kahit na tayo’y  nasasaktan,
sa isang minsan

tayo ay nagkatagpo at nagmahalan,
kahit alam nating tayo ay sawi,
sa pag-ibig nating
tulad ng ulan
sa isang minsan
Ito nakagawa na rin ng legit na ngayong taon ko nagawa, ang hirap maghanap ng poetic inspiration, pero heto buhay na uli. Tag-ulan eh.
Michael Joseph Sep 2019
I adore you…

Your will undeniable,

Your word unbreakable,

Your strength undefeatable,

I never stood a chance.

You’re the all brave, all mighty,

omnipotent, omniscient,

The giver of life, the righteous,

And I must follow you, obey  you

Follow your footsteps, or be punished,

But I was disobedient,

a curdled flesh

unworthy of my creator,

A disgrace in his presence.

“Bless me, father, for I have sinned.”

(Your mighty fists resound inside my head.)

“Forgive me for defying you.”

(Your glorious feats like whippings I can’t bear.)

“Save me from this darkness, my savior.”

(Your word a storm outside my world.)

“And mold me in your spirit.”

(I hated you.)


I am a follower of your girdled path through goodness,

A witness of your immortal rule.
This poem was created when I started being aware that my parents are very self-serving when it comes to decision making. I was so frustrated back then, but now I understand that every person have all their self-interests weighed in before giving their decisions, and it works the same with parenting.
Michael Joseph Jul 2019
It never flowed fast inside
the river- never hushed
and chased its mark and fell
above the skies
lonely lullabies

cold whispering screams
loud and lonely, deep
and shallowly glowing
like tears do shine while
falling, crashing,

slow, the blows do touched
its face disturbing silence
till it touched the last of stones
the waves will stop its shaking
leaving echoes singing

Living echoes singing
though dread from deep

though dark beneath

Lively masked with seamings

The river flows a toiling
This was written during one of my darkest moments in finding my purpose in life.
Michael Joseph Jul 2019
The rain is pouring all its fears,
in our eternal journey;
and though we tread in flooding tears,
our eyes can sail the sea.

Tonight our hearts be light
in paths we dare not cross,
tonight though frail and weak of sight
our feats we dare not pause,

But then the rain turns to storm
And hardly we can cross-
Our fires inside will keep as warm
-will never fear our loss.

We, the scriptures of the new
And hardly they can comprehend,
But stay with what you know is true,
The voice inside will send.

Do not fear of growing old
with the fear of growing cold;
for in life, the stories told
were only from the bold.
This was written for my sister's  birthday, September 12 2015. I forgot to upload it here tho. ^_^
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