You Left Us for the Vast Worlds
Why did you leave us behind,
And leave my eyes tearful, confined?
We stayed behind, crying your name,
For you left us, untamed by the frame of this world.
By your side, I used to play,
I cherished you more every day.
You were like a father to me,
Yet you left, unbounded, for eternity.
If only there were a cure for death,
If only we could hold back its breath,
A soul like yours we would keep,
And not weep in sorrow so deep.
Oh, my uncle, unmatched and kind,
You left us, beyond the world's bind.
Green Engines
Where data rings around the poisoned
fruit coiled like the
Original sin bacillus but we're not quite
dreaded out
Yet, foiled the plans of egomaniac
gods with blackened
Wings flapping like a cyborg fan-machine-man
over the
Tweaked and roiling
abyss of
Scissors, there remains
a system of drillbit girls with heads like
Hammerhead sharks wearing
Polynesian skirts around the issue of
Unholy orders, fringed, frayed, stripped
Boredom town
Cross-hatchings in an
addled adult
Comic type
Stripped to
Ill
Turning 75 Three Times
1-
Self-portraits by Picasso:
elbows where the head
should be, mouth and eyes
randomly scattered,
a mass of color;
body parts trying to connect
2-
Novels in three lines
like Japanese death poems:
a few words summing up life-
more than enough
3-
Remembering morning at
a still lake: false dawn
suggesting light with a
persistence of fog refusing
to lift-lines written in lieu
of mourning.
White Noise Twice
1-
Woman in white-
pale skin and alabaster
eyes, a white room
wraith, a scatter of
dried flowers, herbs;
Emily Dickinson dreaming
2-
Open Mic with thunderstorm
with unexpected static,
dimming house lights
then total darkness;
an apology for reading
a war poem that ends
in thunder
Kawabata Six Times
1-
At peace pagoda-
wrought iron character
for peace. At dusk
a bell rings
2-
Clear summer night.
Where are the fireflies?
3-
Still Life with Flower
Arrangement-
single long stem Iris
in clear glass vase.
Shadows cast on
white interior wall;
perfect symmetries
4-
Still Life with Waterfalls-
Summer drought reduces
flow. At the crest,
sleek stepping stones-
still a long way down
5-
A trick of light
on lake reflects
flocks of birds
6-
Folding origami cranes
for peace and releasing
them into rivers, ponds,
lakes- a thousand is
never enough
Flood Tides Five Times
1-
Cornfields on a flood
plain-only the tops
of stalks visible
2-
Light through spider’s
web between two trees;
a world about to end
3-
Found, barely visible
in receding tidal pool,
between a scatter of rocks,
a whale’s rib
4-
After the flood,
gray morning sky;
a broken tree limb
with one bird on it
5-
Weeks of rain then clear
and warm. The sun feels
strange, out of place
Seeing Sleep Four Times
1-
Looking up from under
water, the movement
of clouds
2-
Sleep-letting go
of the body,
the mind moves on
3-
Light through gaps
between broken trees.
New day colors-
blue sky and rising sun,
almost liquids
4-
Bone white trees-
moon shadows on
still water.
Nothing moves
White Symphony Three Times
1-
Young woman in white
gazing into a mirror-
reflection in half tones
and light
2-
Woman seated on piano
bench facing away from keys,
an annotated score open
to a piece for four hands,
two hands missing
3-
Dreaming woman sleepwalking
in white, silk kimono empty
tea cups in each limp hand;
rice paper walls dissolve
around her.
Tone Poems Three Times
1-
Outdoor concert at
night, Les Preludes
with moonglow and
meteor showers; a tone
poem with stars in it
2-
November evening
with freezing rain
Cars sliding
on black ice
Inside a Schubert trio;
safe at home at last
3-
Stained glass sonata:
musical notes as pure
as light through
colored glass
A belief that goes beyond what our instincts gives
A belief that goes beyond confusions that deceives
Yet, is Faith enough?
To accept the time to be born and die
To accept that fate and faith is but one
To accept a predestined destiny is done
To accept that a path is an inflexible sky
Then why is there Life?
Should life be spent by being immobile
Should one sit, silently wait in self exile
Should one watch others the world defile
As hunger, anger, greed and violence pile
Then why is there Free Will?
A choice to leash or let go one’s desire
A choice to create or destroy with fire
A choice to reject or sing along with choir
A choice to lead or be led by thorny wire
What is Faith?
Is Faith a strength to empower an action
Is Faith a comfort for failure’s depression
Is Faith a guide to worthwhile destination
Is Faith a motivation to lead one’s passion
What is the benefit of Faith in one’s belief?
What is the benefit of Faith in acceptance?
What is the benefit of Faith in one’s choice?
What is the benefit of Faith in one’s life?
With Faith, there is Trust,
Yet Trust with Wisdom,
Wisdom with Humility,
Humility with Confidence,
Confidence with Compassion.
Faith must not be blind,
For a Blind Faith is a Dead Faith;
Faith must be Alive with Free will,
Freewill needs to make wise Choices.
Lilian Dipasupil Kunimasa was born January 14, 1965, in Manila Philippines. She has worked as a retired Language Instructor, interpreter, caregiver, secretary, product promotion employee, and private therapeutic masseur. Her works have been published as poems and short story anthologies in several language translations for e-magazines, monthly magazines, and books; poems for cause anthologies in a Zimbabwean newspaper; a feature article in a Philippine newspaper; and had her works posted on different poetry web and blog sites. She has been writing poems since childhood but started on Facebook only in 2014. For her, Poetry is life and life is poetry.
Lilian Kunimasa considers herself a student/teacher with the duty to learn, inspire, guide, and motivate others to contribute to changing what is seen as normal into a better world than when she steps into it. She has always considered life as an endless journey, searching for new goals, and challenges and how she can in small ways make a difference in every path she takes. She sees humanity as one family where each one must support the other and considers poets as a voice for Truth in pursuit of Equality and proper Stewardship of nature despite the hindrances of distorted information and traditions.
Maja Milojković was born in 1975 in Zaječar, Serbia. She is a person to whom from an early age, Leonardo da Vinci’s statement “Painting is poetry that can be seen, and poetry is painting that can be heard” is circulating through the blood. That’s why she started to use feathers and a brush and began to reveal the world and herself to them. As a poet, she is represented in numerous domestic and foreign literary newspapers, anthologies and electronic media, and some of her poems can be found on YouTube. Many of her poems have been translated into English, Hungarian, Bengali and Bulgarian due to the need of foreign readers. She is the recipient of many international awards. “Trees of Desire” is her second collection of poems in preparation, which is preceded by the book of poems “Moon Circle”. She is a member of the International Society of Writers and Artists “Mountain Views” in Montenegro, and she also is a member of the Poetry club “Area Felix” in Serbia.
