"theodora" poems
May sanggol na buhat-buhat ng isang babae
Naka teletubbies na T shirt
Maikli ang buhok, maputi ang mukha
Mataba ang mga braso
Ang dalawang anyo ay nakaupo
Sa isang silid
Nakangiti ang babae
Ang sanggol ay nakatingin sa kawalan
Buka ang bibig ngunit
Walang boses na lumalabas
Ano ang kanilang patutunguhan?
Alam ko kung saan.
Ano ang kanilang mga kasalanan?
Alam ko kung ano.
Ano ang kanilang mga pangalan?
Alam ko kung ano.
May masamang pakiramdam
Sa aking dibdib
Sa pagitan ng mga nangyari
At maaring mangyari
Hindi ko maalis ang aking tingin
Kahit na ako'y nasasaktan
Kahit na gusto kong mawala
Inosenteng bata
Inosenteng bata
Ano nangyari sa iyong pagka-inosente?
Bakit ka lumaki?
Bakit ka nagkasala?
Bakit mo iniwan ang iyong panginoon?
Bakit hindi ka pa magpatiwakal?
Bata, madami kang pagdadaanan
Naaawa ako sa iyo
Mabuti at nakayanan mo
Ngumiti ka, umiyak ka
Ligtas ka dito
Hindi kita pababayaan
Naaawa ako sa iyo
Itinago ko ang letrato
Masyado nang ginugulo ang aking isipan
Theodora, wala kang kasalanan.
Theodora, wala kang kasalanan.
Oct 13, 2021
Oct 13, 2021 at 1:49 AM UTC
A picture hanging on the wall, a desk and two black curtains
falling down to the floor;
The full moon hides behind rainbow clouds,
stories of that yesterdays' sun
written
metal sounds
and two drops of heavy dew.
... Sighs ...
I was circling your thoughts,
they were mine
to wonder about
and make them shine
all the way
through the spirals of our times.
... wishful sighs ...
A picture hanging on the wall, a flower on the desk,
two black curtains falling down
and up the full moon staring...
An almost hidden by rainbow clouds
love for that yesterdays' sun...
The two drops of heavy dew
are reflecting into the floor.
© All rights Reserved Theodora Oniceanu
Nov 19, 2020
Nov 19, 2020 at 3:21 AM UTC
If I were a painter
I would craft a goddess, hung
Immortal to some museum
or midst the the dusty collection of some baron
With body, flawless
Form, divine
And all of her admirers
Turning the muses flanking Apollo, jealous
But the real fire, the life giving spark
Would flare mad passion in her eyes
And the thundering, A call;
Theodora, freed from the patriarchy of old Byzantium
A bearer of the old magic, ghosts dancing from another time
Her beauty would be harmonious
To the glittering brown-gold of honeydew
And bursting,
Like a symphony loud and tremulous
All the true aesthetes, trembling
That a painter got to meet a woman so
To set his heart afire
And if I had been born a sculptor
If I had been given the power to shape
My crowning achievement
The great anthem of my time, spent
Would be a face;
A chin, gently tilted skyward
The eyes, sparkling with that unknown sea
Hair disheveled, parted, smoothing the cheeks
and the glimmer of lips,
Softly pursed;
But the eyes, the doorways to that tidal force
All of the dreams
All of the feelings, trapped and rolling, the ocean beneath
Would burst forth; A thousand church candles,
Or a gathering of street lights.
If I were a sculptor my greatest achievement would be cast in Lady's Dream
Not for the skin, but for the glittering eyes
Or if I were a composer
Working on my symphony
I would have the brasses buzzing,
and the strings
A chorus of thought
And the melody would be defined not by the loudness
But the silences
The gaps of deep thought, juxtaposed
Amongst the roaring
The soft gasps of tide being pulled back to sea
and all of the sweet undulations, the rivers of a mind
If I were a composer the audience would get a glimpse,
The briefest moment,
Of the beauty
Of quiet
The deepness
Of thought
But I am merely a poet,
A poor shaper of words
Strung out on hope,
Gambling on luck,
Trapped, eternally, to the brightness of the sun
And lost to those whirlwind emotions that govern men so
And for a moment, smiling,
I got to know the wildness in another poet's eyes
The softness of her smile,
And if I could spell love in her heart
I would
But I am merely a poet,
A poor shaper of words
And with these powers
I can merely say this:
When I say beauty
and the thoughts fall loosely on the page,
hopefully bringing forth a smile
When I say beauty,
When I say beauty
What I mean:
You.
Feb 3, 2014
Feb 3, 2014 at 11:25 PM UTC
The most beautiful woman of Oz,
The Good Witch.
Dark brown eyes full of innocence,
A mind naiive,
Lips that smile sweetly.
Oh Theodora,
That you should become the Wicked Witch of the West.
He didn't love you
He never did
He was a player
And fooled you
Your innocent heart
How it broke
The childish nature
Maturing with each tear
You said you'd be his queen
Give your life to him in service
Happy to do anything for him
But he ran before you had a chance
He ran and found Glinda
Glinda the Pretty Once
Father's Daughter
The Wise Witch
Creamy milk skin,
Pink cheeks,
Fair eyes
Blond hair,
How could you compete with her charms?
There was no winning the Wizard's heart now.
All hope was lost
Your dream crushed
The tears fell
Burning scars into your cheeks.
Oh Theodora.
If only you hadn't been so naiive.
Your sister Evanora is the real Wicked Witch
If only you had seen it.
She offered you an apple
Grown in hell
Poisoned with jealousy
Sweetened with hatred
She promised it would change your life forever
Change your heart
Make it impenetrable to everyone
She did not lie
And you believed
You bit into the apple
And suddenly everything was clear
Evanora lied to you for years
Glinda was the Good Witch
And you were dying.
Your heart saw clearly as it dissolved in you,
Theodora.
All that was good and innocent,
Kind and caring,
Withered and shrunk.
You became the Wicked Witch of the West,
Cruelty at its best
And jealousy at its worst
Oz betrayed you
And you wanted him to die
Along with everyone else
It's all over for you Theodora.
Oz believed there was still good inside you
That could come out someday.
He understood that he had caused you to become this
That Evanora's magic had worked on you.
You denied him.
You shouted never.
Whatever was good left was destroyed in that moment.
Theodora the Good, we mourn you.
Theodora the Wicked Witch, fear us.
You will be defeated someday.
Jul 31, 2013
Jul 31, 2013 at 6:28 AM UTC
The house she grew up in
Is written in her heart
A decaying castle in EDSA
Separated from others
By the torrents of the road
The orange glow of its afternoons
Is the glow of her mind and body
Its rooms replicated in the way she talks
She moves and makes friends
Like the triune God
Which emanates from who?
Theodora or the house?
Jul 21, 2021
Jul 21, 2021 at 8:16 AM UTC
*Rita
Sullen, sultry but delectable nevertheless
She looked at me like an adjudicator
And my confidence sank way down low
I became a blubbering idiot
Whimpering like an orphaned puppy
Theodora
Bereft of height but redeemed somewhat by her face
She looked at me like I was the answer to all her prayers
And my disdain for seekers of things personal shot through the roof
I became this despicably insensitive yuppie living only for music
And her pining heart sent her home early upon a light breeze
Maria
clear complexion with the tone of ripe yellow peaches
She walked out of a shower into the sunshine like a subject of art
When her gaze touched my doting eyes I was lost forever
And my obsession with beauty and allure was well and truly fanned
I became a frequent visitor at the altar of romantic slaughter where dreams die
Elsie
Dark, with dancing eyes and a bobbing ***** replete with femininity
Elsie tortured me with her hungry look then huffed like she was breathing her last
My infatuation with girls that treated me like a killer of their hearts began here
I desperately wanted to reciprocate her take-me-now urges under the June sky
But alas, these things were never meant to be; she was just a maid and I was on the way up
Peggy
Tall and sweet with articulate eyes and a younger sister that spoke for her
She was not one to play hard to get and declared her love like it was a blessing
She made my ego grow in leaps and bounds and had a figure like an artist's model
I was stunned by her loving openness and could have tied the knot if I could
But circumstances, as always, altered cases and we went our separte ways for good
Clementine
Succulent like the clementine, her namesake, she aired her feelings out for me to see
She had a bigger sister who treated me like I was what her sister needed in perpetuity
Clementine and I shared a secret that we kept from my besotted cousin
My love for intrigue and convolution henceforth was my driver in matters of the heart
And I grew into this heartless beau who needed to be rescued from his own folly
And today in my armchair under the leafy avocado pear tree I sit and wonder where I lost it*
Jan 20, 2016
Jan 20, 2016 at 7:58 AM UTC
"The night she bathed into the light
Came with the blessings of your heart
And strong she was to your good sight,
So fragile in appearances yet so bright!
That light came slowly caressing the night,
Embracing her soul for the fairest fight,
So strong, still, too fragile for the part
Written on walls and danced to the right
Height. Looking up, stare into the blight
Of all sorrow ed-souls I saw how you fell apart
And it ached my soul, what solutions, right
To find? What Word for you... crave straight. "
Music to...
©Theodora Oniceanu
Feb 25, 2021
Feb 25, 2021 at 3:34 PM UTC
Each person has a song
That plays in life's turntable
Together in the album of humankind
Rock songs, folk melodies,
electronic experiments, ballads, lullabies
Like the Beatles' White album
A wild mix of tracks
That don't seem to fit together
But sounds perfect as it is
What do these songs have?
They have melodies that burn the heart
And rhythms that scar the body
Not everyone wanted to write the song
It just bled out of them
From lacerations of what they've seen and experienced
Each song is unique to each one
There is one main writer
Yet the credits is shared by all
Nobody wants to talk about their song
They just let it play and play and play
Hoping that someone listens
Theodora's song is a modern one
Somewhere between pop song and dark ambient
Lonely guitars, an upbeat drum machine, and scathing synth pads
She keeps it like a pearl inside her head
Growing wilder, more elegant, more painful
The lyrics are found somewhere in these pages
She tries not to think about it
Yet the melody screams through her body
She doesn't want it in the album
But she has no choice
So she writes something else
Something stranger, more dignified, much higher
With string sections and choir voices
With what she believes are the right lyrics
And this she shows to other people
Hoping that this is the one that sticks
Reader, I plead. Listen to the song of your neighbor
And if you are able, share as well your song, your fable
Oct 15, 2021
Oct 15, 2021 at 10:56 PM UTC
Sharing moments,
Sharing sweets,
Sharing laughter,
Sharing tears.
Share your light
And share your Shadows,
Give some resting time to hollows
That are sleepy right away
Giving you recourse to clay,
New illusion for your beliefs
In some cool, pathetic breeze
of the ocean that you freeze
In your mind to rest remarks
Made on peaks, high, of a rock.
Give some sleepy clay remark
On a cliff's recourse to rock
New illusions cool and hollow
Resting times on breeze to follow
Ocean's cool esthetic sleeps,
Frozen image of a breeze.
Share your shadows and your lights,
Share some moments, sweet and fun,
Share those tears in forms of life
On these moons,
Too clear, make shine!
© All rights Reserved Theodora Oniceanu
Nov 19, 2020
Nov 19, 2020 at 11:47 AM UTC
We live under the same blue sky,
same Moon, same stars, the same stories-telling clouds,
Why won't we live in peace and harmony?
Why **** and try to make of someone something else
When what we do is nothing wrong but different?
We live under the same blue sky
still ****** happens, all the time.
The child, naive, is wondering.
The man, the woman know and laugh and cry.
© All rights Reserved Theodora Oniceanu
Nov 19, 2020
Nov 19, 2020 at 11:43 AM UTC
Light was wandering on the hill,
A promise I seal...
We can see a road and the tree
Through a filter made of tears
And I don’t agree
with us touching the spring of our fears.
Feel the acid in your throat,
the chemistry of your burning thought;
You are close to my soul without being near at all!
*
Three cigarettes and a bowl,
She eats her salad, ... very slow
a movement.
Scents promised to the air
telltale.
The hills are green
but wear the skin
of Gold;
The copper light is wandering on
the site.
She thought of mountains
blue and strong,
of high bright skies
with a trace of foam,
she heard the whisper of that morning’s Sun
when she left home.
Last night was cold...
When home, she felt
his spirit move around:”
“... release of a sound...
- not sold! -
She felt inspired and at peace
with everything within her being...
“And all was love and love was all they need”
The door shut loud!
Observing the autumn trees in the middle of spring,...
I am touching the bud of eternity!
“-Come back! You’re mine!”
he screamed.
The darkness’s swallowing his being,
she brings her light to him...
He touches the Spring: “-What am I seeing?!”
She felt they’re doomed,
“The bud of eternity has bloomed!”
Carrying the vision of a young man in her heart
And his lightning beam.
“-Come here! You’re mine!”
she dared.
The darkness of those days was about to end,
His bright light inspiring her being...
She took it in!
“Hold on, hold it in!”
*
My brain catches the beams of light;
That power inside
shows through the veil
I hide behind my sight.
An echo I seal;
I have become so un-Real!”
“I watch the arrows made of coal
“I have a goal!”
Before I know I am dissecting my soul.
I step aside,
The door has opened wide!
“-Pictures and words, put on a wall
to be shot at then left alone”
Lone.
*
The table holds an ashtray on,
two pencils and a bowl;
She ate her salad, ... very slow
a thought …
Three cigarettes were smoking on,
in the middle of the ashtray
right next to the door.
A last call: ...
‘-Hold on!
“Hold It On!”
Light was wandering on...”
From: Theodora Oniceanu. “Time Files”. PersonAll.
Nov 13, 2020
Nov 13, 2020 at 10:31 AM UTC
She lived in a town without sunrises and sunsets
Where beauty is erased from the houses and offices
All infrastructure is devoted to might and prosperity
All activity, a collapsing dream, a fading memory
Her skin was translucent, letting in harsh light
Tadpoles multiplied in her garden, frogs had their feasts
Quietly, quietly, quietly. Making sure not to disturb the predators
The dogs and the cats pass them by without a glance
Theodora had a dream. An ambition or a vision?
In this town it makes no difference.
Everything is set to collapse into a black hole
Jul 29, 2021
Jul 29, 2021 at 2:41 AM UTC
- Creating a god inside me was the perfect start for this battle of the sad spurred sands.
"- Here I am, on Blasphemy Lane where everything's dead."
[They killed it]
Fill the void inside me
With Love and Meaning,
Brilliant Sun travelling
Through space and time,
enlightening the blackest Sea;
This darkness in which we dive seems so empty!
~ Rotation ~
"We're spinning around on our own selves to face a dead god."
[They closed it in]
He learned we're in need for some warmth then started looking for it in every galaxy.
"- This hell is cold..."
"- Do you remember the time you swallowed the serpents of Medusa? What did they say to you? Could you hear their screams while burning down your throat? Did you spread their ashes throughout the sands of your hourglass?..."
[You took in the stars]
"...- There is your boat!"
"- I don't know! I'm too cold."
Do fill the void inside me
With Your Love and Meaning,
Brilliant Sun travelling
Through our space and time,...
enlightening this Black Sea;
The darkness in which we dive looks ... so empty!
~ Rotation ~
"I need to burn like a torch and guide you through this cold night."
They gave us a warm thought and left this cold.
"-Now I can remember:
A kiss in the name of God!"
From: The Hour of the Blue Man by Theodora Oniceanu
© All rights Reserved Theodora Oniceanu
Nov 15, 2020
Nov 15, 2020 at 11:33 AM UTC
So I said: Her eyes were pure,
Her Soul: Too cruel
To let you cry.
Left your home for something better in return...
Yet she is the only one to know
About that soul,
Alone.
Fought for what's to fight for!
Life!
Found her way with no full understanding of the price to pay.
Still some questions left
Behind.
Still thoughts linger in my mind!
Relief ...can't find a spoken answer
to all that!
So, you see: Here eyes are pure
Yet still that soul too cruel
to let me cry...
Until all illness died.
© All rights Reserved Theodora Oniceanu
Nov 17, 2020
Nov 17, 2020 at 12:28 AM UTC
Chances were taken and broken were fears,
Superstitions mistaken for Bitter-Sweet tears;
Friends and illusions, well known entities
Locked once and forever in frames of a breeze.
Love taken away, mistrust and shy feels,
Perspectives on all our spiritual peers.
© All rights Reserved Theodora Oniceanu
Nov 15, 2020
Nov 15, 2020 at 12:12 PM UTC