"tinging" poems
ngiti mo sumunog sa puso ko
mata mo alipimin kaluluwa ko
kapag ikay nakatitig sakin
napapaso ako sayong mga tinging magpakailanman
(C)2012, Christos Rigakos
Apr 3, 2012
Apr 3, 2012 at 11:20 PM UTC
Bilang mga pilipino
Nakaugalian na nating
Bumili ng bagay bagay ng
Pa tingi-tingi,
Tulad ng
Sigarilyo,
Kendi,
Shampoo
And marami pang iba.
Bakit nga ba natin ginagawa ito?
Ito ba'y dahil
Tayo'y nag titipid,
kaya tayo'y dumudukot lang
ng pa-pirapiraso,
O baka naman,
Ayaw lang natin
Na may mga bagay na nasasayang
Pero kahit ano pang
Aspeto ito,
Nadala na natin ito
Hanggang sa paglaki.
Nasanay na tayong
Umasta ng patingi-tingi
Pati sa pakiki-salamuha
Natin sa kapwa
Tingi-tingi na din,
Tingi-tinging mga ngiti,
tingi-tinging mga halik,
Tingi-tinging mga kwento,
Pero ang pinaka masaklap
Sa lahat ng ito ay,
Tingi-tinging debosyon
Sa panginoon.
Na dinudukot lang natin
ang mga pirasong,
Tugma sa
Sa ating mga problema
Ang mga piraso,
Na nagpapasarap
Sa atin piling,
Hindi natin ito kailanman
Hinahayaang turuan tayo,
At itama sa ating mga
Pagkakamali.
Tulad ng mga bersiculo
Ng biblia
Tinabas-tabas natin ang mga
Kasuluksulukan
Na banal sa libro.
Binulsa lang
Natin ang pagmamahal ni Cristo,
Dudukutin lang
Pag kailangan.
Kapag tayoy nalulumbay,
Sabik na sabik
Sa mga bisig
Ng iba.
Si ay ating
Kinakalimutan
Sa panahon
Ng kaligayahan.
Tinatawag
Lang siya
Kapag tayo'y may
Kailangan.
Na sa oras ng kagipitan,
Sinisigaw ang kaniyang
Ngalan.
Sana matandaan natin
Na tayo'y
Binili ng buo,
Gamit ang buhay
Na hindi binigay ng
Tingi-tingi
Pero binigay ng buong buo.
Hindi lang isang
Patak ng dugo,
Pero buong pagkatao,
Ibinuhos para lang sayo.
Kaya,
Tigilan na
Nating ang patingi-tinging asal,
Tigilan nalang
Natin ang pagpapakipot
Sa taong
Nagmamayari satin.
Tayo'y hindi tingi, tayo'y buo.
Nov 17, 2015
Nov 17, 2015 at 12:47 PM UTC
Ang lakas ng ulan
Pero, nandito pa rin ako
Naghihintay.
Ang lakas ng paghampas ng ulan sa aking likod
Pero, nandito pa rin ako
Naghihintay
Ang unang tingin niya sa akin,
Noong pinanganak pa lang ako
Ay hindi tinging na ibinibigay ng nanay
Ang mga mata niya
Punong-puno ng alat na makikita mo lang sa dagat
Dahil, hindi ako parte sa mga balak niya.
Pero, baka dahil lang sa kanyang konsensya
Pumunta siya sa ibang bansa.
Niyuko niya ang kanyang ulo para maitaas ko ang akin.
Binuhos niya ang kanyang pagkatao para ako’y makakain.
Kahit hindi ako parte sa mga balak niya
Minahal pa rin niya, ako.
Kaya, nandito ako, naghihintay.
Sa harap ng libingan ng kanyang nanay.
Ang lakas ng ulan
Pero, nandito pa rin ako
Parang noong
Nandoon siya para sa akin.
Jun 29, 2020
Jun 29, 2020 at 7:59 PM UTC
Saksi ako sa bawat tingin.
Saksi ako sa lihim na pagdapo ng paru-paro sa iyong bukirin.
Saksi ako sayo at sa kanya.
Saksi ako sa pag-aari mo sa kanya, gamit ang iyong mga mata.
Saksi ako sa lihim na pagsulyap.
Saksi ako sa labis na pagiingat.
Saksi ako sa lahat.
Pero ako, nasaksihan mo ba ako?
Napansin mo ba ang bawat tinging binabato ko sayo ?
Naaninag mo ba ang pusong dumadapo sa mga ito?
Nasaksihan mo ba?
Ang pagtago ko sa likod ng mga pahina,
Ang paghikbi ko gamit ang musika,
Ang sakit? Nasaksihan mo ba?
Na sa tuwing napapagod ka kakahabol, ganon din ako?
Na sa tuwing masaya kang tinititigan siya, ako naman, umaasang tititigan mo?
Nasaksihan mo ba?
Ang pag-asam kong sana,
Sana ako nalang siya.
Sana ako nalang...
Sana ako..
Sana...
Hanggang kailan ako kakapit sa mga natitirang sana?
Hanggang kailan ko panghahawakan ang paniniwala kong "baka"?
Ang paniniwala kong baka ikaw...
Ikaw na tama at ikaw na Mali,
Ikaw na oo at ikaw na hindi,
Ikaw na meron at ikaw na wala..
Ikaw na tanong, at ikaw na sagot. Ikaw na.
Paano ko nga ba mapapakawalan ang mga titig kong biglang nakulong sayo?
Paano ko nga ba mapipigilan ang kamay na pipigil sana sa pagtakbo mo?
Paano nga ba?
Kakayanin ko pa bang saksihan ang bawat ngiti, bawat tingin, bawat paghikbi na hiniling ko sa bituin pero sa iba dumating?
Kakayanin ko pa kaya?
Kakayanin ko pa..
Kakayanin ko..
Kakayanin..
M.U (Mag-isang Umiibig)
Jul 17, 2016
Jul 17, 2016 at 9:57 PM UTC
Minsan pinangarap ko
Mali,
Araw-araw pinapangarap ko
Na sana tingnan mo rin ako
Tulad ng tinging ipinupukol mo sa kanya
Pero itong tangang to hanggang pangarap lang talaga
Bakit? Kasi di mo naman ako kilala
Oct 1, 2015
Oct 1, 2015 at 2:05 PM UTC
complexity
is your beauty
simplicity
your mystery
interdependence
sustains you
once upon a time
we dipped bowls
into your waters
and brought up
draughts of life
now
Skipjacks go
fathoms deep
into endless
depletion
charting
entangled
dead zones
broadening
into a sea of
inertness
your delicate
eco-essence tips
toward oblivion
effluvia farmers
layer mechanized
blankets of
nitrates on your
sunset shores
weaving
green tendrils
of algae blooms
strangling the
entanglements
of all links in
your miraculous
food chain
the EPA
proscribes
a Jenny Craig
pollution diet
to halt the
slaughter in
oxygen
challenged
dead zones
where rockfish
are garroted,
oysters get drilled
by screwworms
and azure tinted
soft shell *****
dance soft
shoe taps
lifting a tinny
chorus of sad
Piedmont Blues
the flat-lining
watersheds
voiceless
warnings
tremble
rocking the
purged nests of
screaming ospreys
in vocal protest
of a sinking
Tangier Isle
anointing it’s
tombstones
of unvisited
cemeteries with
multicolored
guano
fitting
alkaline
tributes
to the lost
inhabitants
and forgotten
languages
sinking into the
brine of gray
brackish tides
Delmarva’s fine
intra-continental
balance skewed
by the oozing
industrial swill
of Frank Perdue
chicken farms
ruling the roost of
sanctioned sustainability
tinging clear watersheds
of finger lakes
set in splints to
repair dislocations
and complex
compound fractures
that may never heal
again
Music Selection:
Taj Mahal: Fishin Blues
jbm
Oakland
6/7/12
Feb 19, 2013
Feb 19, 2013 at 8:36 AM UTC
The sweet sound of innocence
from rampant fits of laughter,
Lemon bars embellished
with a coat of sugar,
Cartwheels in
the freshly mown grass,
the taste, the smell
forever engrained in my mind,
The sweet, syrupy
cherry lollipop,
tinging my tongue,
ever-so-slightly reminding me,
nagging me to feel
this nostalgic desperation,
for a time and place
that no longer exists.
Oct 4, 2015
Oct 4, 2015 at 7:45 PM UTC
Look over there, The moon has fled
well she is not kind — she is bad
just hidden from us in a clouds' cache
and nudging them and it starts to splash
with acrid rain on the darkness
of the roofs with breath of softness
tinging a house where the sleep could stay
sleep, wherever you have slipped away
all those dreams, they have become wet
the rock is sighing it has let
the ravine to take one stone falling
and meantime here I, I am singing.
Never mind that I am in a jail
because I know the morning won't fail
to help me when it grows to inflame
out of the ripe night which keeps the same
also for the next tomorrow.
Indeed they seem to overflow
these mornings, still in a drowsy vein
as raising the head from breast of rain
which fell in love with them and shines
and to honour both with my lines
while for me a note of wind is blown
tell me, why I shouldn't sing on my own.
Oct 28, 2015
Oct 28, 2015 at 2:43 AM UTC
Sa bawat araw na lumilipas,
palaging inaasam ng puso
ang bawat salitang malumanay **** binibigkas,
bawat galaw **** nagbibigay tono sa uniberso,
bawat tinging nagpapahinto ng oras,
bawat ngiting nagbibigay kulay sa mundo.
At sa bawat bukas na sinusundan ang mga kumpas,
palaging isang Obra Maestrang Ikaw nakikita ko.
Aug 2, 2017
Aug 2, 2017 at 12:04 AM UTC
As the compact square drifts into my mouth,
Cocoa fireworks ascend, shooting up at the speed of light,
Leaving the milky texture tinging in my mouth.
As heat slowly melts it; as it grows not up but down,
I can feel it slide smoothly down the tunnel that is my throat,
Still descending into a dark crevice,
Never to be seen again.
Fairtrade is one of many kinds,
Like Asian, African, American of our race.
A saviour object, one that can give so much,
To change the lives of millions,
To give them one thing that most people need.
Hope.
Jul 27, 2010
Jul 27, 2010 at 5:57 AM UTC
*Solitary, lie-back moments; of being in the coziest of places surrounded by the most mundane yet magical. Melancholy has a way of tinging itself with those little nuances of memory, and those little nuances of memory tinge themselves with shades of bittersweet and sad recollection over time. Silent reckonings, simplistically suppressing thoughts - all huge contradictions to the slow, natural motion of letting the waves wash over you.
Is this emotional maturity? Is this a step forward? Life is always full of too many intricacies to tell for sure.
The familiar scents of tearstains and revulsion being punctuated by the occasional flicker of light ahead; pain and perseverance, hope and the promise of heaven.
We are so full of contradictions - concrete, grounded beings yet with so many abstractions and complexities in our heads. A constant grapple, a relentless cycle. Coming back to places of washed up memories has this effect on you; but you pull through, you plough through quicksands, you pick up the small rationalities that have gone astray, and you move forward like you’ve always been doing before. It’s the only thing we know how to do.
Walk on our own, on our own two feet.
And pray that whatever knocks us down, will never be enough to sink us.*
Sep 25, 2016
Sep 25, 2016 at 10:31 AM UTC
Desperate light eases through the curtain
Gentle moon gives way to dazzling sun
Gorgeous baby sleeping with streams highlighting her hair
Lashes tight and dark, windows shuttered and mind forlorn
Somehow sleep seems impossible as the wings of birds beat outside
Suddenly the night has gone, it's over and passed
Everytime I glance, my eyes scan the face of her
Peaceful with regular breathing, slowly rising and falling
Breezy and cool so very typically morning
It feels good but the warmth of her body is intoxicating
More comforting, relaxing and serene
I dare not look at the clock
For even in this short period it will have moved inexplicably
As the gesture of the sun traces a path across the wall
Filling the room with a lilac presence
The tinging of the wind chime reminds me of gentle cows
Moving to and fro on the Tyrolean mountainside
Their bells swinging on leather bands
Closing my eyes again I imagine green fields
The aroma of the air coming through the open window
Describes a distant place of calmness and peace.
Jan is still sleeping and I gently touch her hand to find it cold
Having been outside the covers for some hours
She does not stir
Above me the crystal at the window is sending tiny rainbow spectrum
Dancing in mad little circles, alive on this wonderful day
I feel so at rest, so in love and fortunate to have and to be
Mornings are fresh starts and gifts for us to savour
How lucky we are to have them
May 21, 2010
May 21, 2010 at 6:38 AM UTC
I crave to talk to you about it
However what exactly is 'it'
A whirlwind of issues and trouble, interlaced within my thoughts tinging in red
I wish I could crawl in the comfort of your Autumn coloured arms and nestle my fragile body into your portrait masterpiece.
I wish you'd try to understand,
That this pain wasn't planned. I don't choose to feel a wave instead of ripples, that salty water steals my air because of the force it holds.
I long to explain why I feel drained, why simple tasks are no longer natural and it hurts to walk on glass.
May 27, 2016
May 27, 2016 at 2:42 PM UTC
The heat of the sun.
The beat of the drum.
Bells tinging,
Jingles jingling,
Cow Bells ringing,
Children laughing,
Men singing,
A powwow.
An intertribal.
What flies over head?
A mystical friend.
The eagle came to join.
We danced as it flew over us.
It circled watching us from afar.
When it left,
We felt blessed.
Jun 5, 2016
Jun 5, 2016 at 6:44 PM UTC
This is what heartbreak looks like.
It is the soliloquies you wrote to him at midnight while crying
It is the formality a smile and the absence of warmth
It is the nausea and the ***** because this mornings breakfast just didn't have the heart to stay with you
He didn't either
This is what heartbreak sounds like.
Silence
Breaking
Static
This is what heartbreak feels like.
The burn of your concerned friends eyes into your back
The burn of the shame tinging your cheeks red
This is what heartbreak is.
You
Me
But not us
Never us
Jan 1, 2017
Jan 1, 2017 at 5:04 PM UTC
She needed to remember…..
Remember the parallels of light and the unescapable darkness
The blurred lines of reality
The sobbing woman at her side
The tall man near by
The questions tossed this way and that
As she just stared at them wide-eyed
They looked at her expectantly, hesitantly, anxiously, fearfully
But most of all, the most prominent look in their eyes was hope
It screamed at the depths of rimmed blue, brown, and hazel
It pleaded with hers, waiting for fulfilment
She said nothing
Even when they asked the most simple of questions
So they took on a different tactic
By stating where she was, how she got there, what her condition was
She semi-paid attention to the man wearing white
Picking on a view words
Car— crash— hospital— head
They were important
She knew that
They were vital to her circumstance
But their significance lost meaning with the emptiness
Of no memories, no recollection
Of her state, of these people…… of time
Lost in the blank recesses of her mind
She wanted to dig them out
Drag them in the open
Wring them free of the dust, dirt, and grim
They collected in two months’ time
But searching caused searing pain to swell in her brain
She gripped both sides of her head
Squeezing tight
Noticing bandages and scars for the first time
She had noticed the white walls and beeping machines
And the expectant people surrounding her damaged state of being
But the fine and large scars covering her arms
The bandages wrapped around spoiled tissue
Visible, uncovered reminders in sight
Appeared pink with tinging red
Healing
For some reason, that small thought
That miniscule fact brought unbridled relief
She immersed in it
Even for the briefest moment
She relished in the small victory
Then she heard the sobbing woman to her right
Looking at her, taking her in
Red rimmed eyes
Face washed of makeup
Anguish mixed with relief in her blue orbs
The girl turned her attention to the man at the woman’s side
Who could barely look at her with a clenched jaw
Eyes puffy as well
But he seemed so concentrated at some point on the wall
She gazed that way but found nothing but white….
Oct 4, 2013
Oct 4, 2013 at 3:13 PM UTC
call me a witch... I heal myself
be the person
you have the courage to be
swimming in the green blue sea
like a little fish jumping
out of the Ocean a little bell tinging
I hit the ground on my feet
the smell of oxygen holding me up
breathing full deep breaths of air
the ringing in my ear my head clear
in thoughts to mind making this world
into the sought of the living air
the souls of my feet the atomic radioactive
energy of a Star the Earths center core
thru the uniting with nature a body temple
using its physical senses touching life
a swarm of bees wings the living strong faith
defeating hypocrisy nature shines
the hungry sheep looks up a witch
I heal my self on the wind and rank
the mist a seagull inland whispers the notion
that understanding of the Universe
is a responsibility to know your truth
is this life of oceans waters lands and air
your birth your being is the future growth
of life the Universe playground to be
all you can love see mature believe life
the infinite soar soar create from the core
of Star Earth planet get the inside right
the outside allows primary reality
sew little dragon-fly over come self doubt
believe you are enough of life to soar
you live in a private sanctuary no negativity
living in a life others do not understand
our mystery world of happenstance....
gjmars 7/9/15
Jul 9, 2015
Jul 9, 2015 at 11:00 PM UTC
Nagseselos ako pag may ibang sayo'y nakalapit,
Habang kayo'y magkausap, 'di ko maiwasang mapatitig,
Sa pasimpleng hawak niya, at tinging malagkit,
Kamao'y napapayukom, paano kaniya nalalapitan? —nakagagalit.
Sep 28, 2019
Sep 28, 2019 at 8:43 AM UTC
And I find myself alone,
Brought to this place
Where we threw cigarette butts
Down the storm drain.
I feel the memory of you drowning
Inside of me.
Breathless, reaching,
I hear church bells ringing and tinging.
I think for a moment
That you're God might be on my side tonight.
I remember vividly your fear of heights
And popping balloons
And I sigh through pursed lips.
Why in the end did we become adventurers of a lost faith?
You and I,
We should have listened when the philosophers told us
That God was dead.
Because instead tonight I feel cheated
And disbarred.
Jun 9, 2014
Jun 9, 2014 at 10:18 PM UTC
Shallow my hear
excurse my heart
Wind is withering,
mind is masquerading,
heads are nudging,
hands are roving,
fingers are clasping,
lips are clenching,
breathe is meddling,
smile is smothering,
looks are prodding,
eyes are staring,
tears are tinging,
(ascent of eyelashes,
descent of eyebrows)
bodies are blending,
skin is sweating,
nimble is my mind,
yet the thought is yours,
Shallow my hear
excurse my heart..... .
Mar 17, 2014
Mar 17, 2014 at 1:05 PM UTC
Blow backs left right,
flowing from the up-side
sphere of my down-facing
brain.
Cluttered pages of a book-mind,
the junk of thought-pages,
with doodles on the lined edges.
and the corners dog-eared.
Peering through the eyeglass
of the head, one finds a circus
of impulses, a parade of thought-beams
bouncing and pinging off the skull-wall.
Mindless and formless shapes,
of squares and circles, and
more strange formations begin
to come to a discombobulated life.
Shaped by stray desires,
and flaming envy-fires,
and raging dream-embers,
the circus is coming to town.
The clowns paint their faces,
the elephants don their dresses,
the trapezists prepare their rope,
the ringmasters ring their voice
the typewriters begin their dance.
The Parade of Impulses has commenced,
the ringing-pinging-tinging of the bells,
the clanging-banging-jangling of the drums,
the crashing-bashing-thrashing of the cymbals.
The Kingdom of Noise, of discordant sound,
and disjointed spasms proceeds, the
cats and rats and bats stepping out of tune,
the chairs, stairs, and the mares march
to the beat of a spastic, spastic thought-drum.
Gingerbread snaps skip the sweet fandango,
while tangerines and woodwinds play
their **** tunes and the dinosaurs of dixie
tap and sway from side to side.
Paperclips and staples sing Blue Velvet,
while the idol warbles with a Golden Flute,
and the bulldog grins widely and wildly,
playing his 8-bit accordion-tambourine.
Behold the procession of business-men
and cat-women as they are swept into
the noise-sounds, and the thought-images.
What draws them in? the feeling or the fire,
the lust or the raging desire?
The beat goes on, as does the noise,
the pitch rises on, as does the fervor,
soon the soundless static stacks,
buzzing-fuzzing-wuzzing slowly louder.
The marchers march, and the players play,
the steppers step, and the band bandies,
the parade parades, and the mind
snaps.
Jul 3, 2016
Jul 3, 2016 at 12:22 AM UTC
Tinging and tapping on the window,
the rain collects on my pain
in small droplets rolling down
as they get bigger and heavy
on the glass.
Landing on my hand, the drop
came slowly in my mind from
my sorrow and my eye.
Like the rain of the window
sorrow gets heavy rolling like
a stone, tapping on the window
of my life.
The first teardrop stings,
the second is like a scar its
always in mid air as I gasp for
a breath. Forever it seems.
I am the teardrop...
©️ 2022 By Amanda Shelton
Oct 25, 2022
Oct 25, 2022 at 12:41 AM UTC
I know your type
One to elect an early exit
Deep into the cut
Scenic thru ways
Treacherous spontaneously carving angles, with no slow postings
Strung souls festooned to a hysterical spindle; spun
I swear
I have seen those trees before
It all looks so similar
There's no way to tell
Meaningless miles
Traversing the whorls of our finger prints
Our effusions tinging the tints of passing time
Haggred laggard orbs
In phlegmatic succession
As one submerges the other is cresting
Straining our necks and crossing our eyes
Lusting to examin the splendor of both at the same time
I found soothing solace in the prospect
Simplistic predictability; perpetual motion machine
A one gear design
Head long; forever forward
Hindrances observed
Obstructions obliterated
Cleaved into splinters
Tumbling endlessly into infinity
Towards the edge of the earth
Vaulting the crimped lip of the terraformed tortoise shell
Slowly slipping through the imaginary grasp of gravity
Into the void
No longer victim to vertigo
Orientation Utopia
Up, down, left, and right
Weightless figments
Photo negatives of a childhood home
Aug 2, 2018
Aug 2, 2018 at 11:57 AM UTC