She's standing there in the beams of the moon,
Listening to the traveling wind's tune.
Surrounded by the wonders of nature,
Walking around in her sweet leisure.
Here is the place where her silk meets the leaves,
Who will never merge even when she leaves.
While the wind carries the past, she does too,
Adding color to history's gray hue.

Beauty and elegance does lie
Within each move and act of them,
While passing by each looking eye,
Styled with a flower-diadem
Where each petal shines like a gem
Whenever fondled by moonlight,
Or appearing in-front eyesight,
Decorating the rainy streets,
Where they walk at day and at night,
While this world of them flits and fleets.

This flower-tradition should stay,
Of pure entertainment with smiles,
Who's to History a gateway,
To find the ancient arts and styles,
Or else it will take us much miles
To return to the fleeting past,
Who for a small portion does last
Particularly in their own being
Who's almost replaced by the fast
Roads who are all from past fleeing.

"Inaalala ang araw
Na kumikinang
Ganoon ako tuwing nakikita ka;
Aking liwanag sa dilim"
----
"Naaalala mo pa
Ang mga araw na masamit
Nung tayo'y magkasama?
Abot ang ngiti sa malayong bituin

Kumusta ka?
Okay ka lang?
Pagod ka na yata
Sa katorpehan ng tao
O baka naman sa akin pala"

born January 13th, mcmlix
under Capricorn sign.

With my scrunched  
and bushy furrowed brow
I often ponder precise circumstances
that linkedin yours truly to be born
tracing back lineage of self
or arbitrary individual
unpredictable as the dow
reckoning a series of events
sustained life similar
to sowing seed of corn

ruminating fragile nascent organism
at the mercy of fate flourished and how
taxing me mind how each score
composed for each
to toot their own horn
aware that just slightest
off beat fluke determined
from millennia ago or now
that particular organism –
whether one celled entity

or beings that can mourn
the loss of kindred members –
food for thought
for able pledge marital vow
like this poet, whose presence
a mere fluke of circumstances possibly torn
at any point in distant past
rendering me absent,
and hence unable to utter wow
evincing expression care worn.

At what crap shoot of circumstances
wrought Matthew Scott Harris to be
cognizant of the self
and world wide web
or follow threads back in time,
albeit not more than
a couple generations –
whereby emigrants did flee
from supposed Eastern European swath
in general finding thyself to rhyme
for no reason,  just as other creatures
great or small occupy themselves with glee

or just groveling along
at bare ***** knuckle existence
without a dime
less apt to own luxury  
how **** sapiens
purportedly evolved from monkey,
whereby harsh ill fate
tempts them into life of crime,
when perhaps riches
with kingly figures
loomed large in their family tree
begat courtesy making whoopie.

A genealogical limb
branching off way back
when back in the day
glorious personalities
populated genealogy to boot
twisting a tortured destiny
somewhere o'er the rainbow
along Yellow Brick Road way
setting stage for rags when
once August ancestry buried in loot
yet tis quite frivolous
to bemoan present woes or even pray
to win lottery turning attention
to how like our ancestral gingko

or Geiko gekko newt
dwelling in rich primordial
egg drop soup
wantonly in massive bay
inexorably transformed
(by dint of dice throw)
per flora to take root
as well fauna to mutate
into species and genus
trumpeting horns heard
signaling Santa Claus
in his trademark red suit
on land to assay.

Punctuated equilibrium
first proposed by
and Niles Eldredge in 1972
gave rise to variety
to an assortment of animals and plants
perhaps also contemplating genetic grants
this one speck of flotsam
in particular owned
a passion for contra dance,
whereby others from massive beasts
to microscopic organisms
scurry hither and yon to and fro
essentially to be alive for lifetime,
nevertheless a mere blink of an eye
all due (in my view) to chance
to self taught amazing uncles and aunts.