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Luiz Oct 8
I'm fading away
mayday! mayday!
like light to day
and spring to May

but it's not like today
or a day then in May
there for me
when I fade

I'll be gone by the bay
if I don't stay
I won't return
any day!

what else can I say?
I tried all but in vein
whatever I do
I keep fading away!

mayday! mayday!
Touches of pink
on skin and sky.
Silhouettes of swifts
pivot a perfect slither
of crescent moon.

Garden sprinkler
spits and splutters -
fearing winter
on the edge of summer.
Poem #13 from my collection 'A Shropshire Grad'. A little something about my love of summer/fear of winter.
purple heart Sep 2
may your days feel,
different by each passing day.

may the mundane,
not **** your dreams every other day.

may the child in you screams,
out of excitement once in a while.
May good things happen to you from now onwards. Strength for the untamed shall be provided by the almighty.
I fell in love, I fell apart in May

I tried so hard to make you stay

But in the end, you just slipped away

I'd hit you up with a "hey"

But you'd ignore me, I was castaway

It's been many months, haven't talked a single day 

Despite my tries, you've ended up just walking away

I tried so hard to make you stay 

But now you've gone, all the way

And I still miss that May Day.
I wrote this earlier in this year about someone I miss(ed) dearly.
s a m Aug 5
Old folks have so many stories to share
about the tales on the first rain of May.
Legends and myths are spoken everywhere.
To believe is yours, if you hear them say—
It can fully heal all of diseases
and can enhance one's physical features.
I wonder if it can heal the cases
of COVID-19 on a big measure.
But then, it's not really the rain that heals...
It's the faith we have and the hope we hold
to see the victory up on a hill
where death is defeated and life shines-gold.
So now, stand and cope up with the grieving,
'cause God reigns to fill our lives with blessings.
I started writing this sonnet poem since the 4th of May. (The first rain of the month specifically in my hometown.) Well, I was actually on my room when I heard the abrupt downpour of rainfall and it took me seconds of sight on the outside to be inspired in writing a new poem again. At first, I was just playing with the words that I'm using while finding the right mood when suddenly... I was reminded of the old beliefs that are passed down throughout the country that I am living in. (Philippines) Back from the days, most of the parents would never let their children play on the rain because of the possibility that they might get a cold. (I'm lucky enough that my parents don't care about that so I get to enjoy growing up as a kid who often plays on the rain.) But when it's the first rain of May, everything is different... Parents themselves are the ones to insist their children in going out to play on the rain. Some of them even go out too 'cause the legend says if you soak on the first rain of May, most probably you'll be healed on whatever disease you have and your body will pretty much be healthy during the whole cycle of year. Upon remembering the past, I wonder if it could ever heal the world during this time of pandemic. Well, I know it would be impossible to happen since it was a mere legend but... that is why I am praying to our God for the complete healing of the world. I know he'll send the rain to bless us with His holy spirit and to strengthen our faith for He is mighty above all things.
This piece is dedicated to all of us who have faith that we can overcome the crisis that we are in at this very moment. I love you with the love of the Lord!

POEMS OF THE RAIN, Copyright © 2020
Sam N. de la Rosa
All Rights Reserved.
Nat Lipstadt Nov 2014
all my life
wanted to write just
the way
Joni (Mitchell) sings

rising unexpected,
write the changing temperament
in the pitch,
of now

yawing, oscillating,
speedy slow,
enunciating the whip of
love crazy

twist to fall into a
bass baritone insane
from and into a higher pitch,
switch on the
en garde,
blue ink
onto cloth napkin poetry

plain plaintive,
rendering the scene,
rendering my heart,
it's crazy high-lows,
emotion backyard
swing set

Oh Joni!
I could drink a case of you

that is was what I
told the single girls
when I was a wooing man

send me home,
high and crying,
thinking uneven,
drinking you,
pounding the dashboard,
sing our palpitating poems

thinking up
the in-between
songs of
till next time

that they loved so much
they begged,
sing it again and again

I drank them all
and think now of poem love songs,
vintages that never caged,
never aging,
those songs I wrote for them,
back in the day
when Joni
taught me how to
see life in verse
Nat Lipstadt May 2014
for SJR
who lets me borrow his voices, a good man, asks for nothing in return
and therefore, is given all I got...


“She's as sweet as tupelo honey
She's an angel of the first degree
She's as sweet as tupelo honey
Just like the honey, baby, from the bee
She's my baby, you know she's alright.....“

Van Morrison


old folk listen to old folk
and rock,
stung and sprung
from Pandora's box

you'll understand,
certain phrases,
from certain phases,
first tasted at a flavored oxygen bar
where youth drank,
worshipped and adored

and when those certain
word combinations reenter,
slipping in from unawares,
recalling easy the first time
you tasted with your ears,
Tupelo Honey

but what you remember is

that differentiating phrase

what you believed,
what you needed,
why you existed,
all because there was a new knowing
an angel of the first degree,
was out there waiting for you...
Tupelo Honey is the gold standard by which all other honeys are measured. For two weeks every spring, White (Ogeche) Tupelo Trees in the Southeastern swamps bloom with fine sunburst-shaped flowers that glisten with nectar.
Cox Jul 12
Days getting colder,
My heart a big ball of broken down smoulder,
Ice all over.
My heart clear, see through, the whitest cellophane.
My heart aching in reminder, May rang.
A phone call like no other, rather a goodbye.
Winter later called in to say hi.
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