tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15149646.post112443478475729481..comments2023-10-25T18:25:12.991+08:00Comments on PIDJANGA of Mainit, Surigao Norte: On HomesicknessAnonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02162732538344384733noreply@blogger.comBlogger3125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15149646.post-1135738437335099782005-12-28T10:53:00.000+08:002005-12-28T10:53:00.000+08:00Dr. GThought your poem was great. You had a nice ...Dr. G<BR/>Thought your poem was great. You had a nice consistent tone, one that reflected a barren landscape with an equally barren soul of the narrator. There are death-like images thoughout that add power to the barrenness of the locale. Want to read another one by you.<BR/>Vincent ParkerAnonymousnoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15149646.post-1126313278091405932005-09-10T08:47:00.000+08:002005-09-10T08:47:00.000+08:00note typos:polishedVan Gogh-yellowstrewnnote typos:<BR/><BR/>polished<BR/><BR/>Van Gogh-yellow<BR/><BR/>strewnAnonymousnoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-15149646.post-1126312866173732652005-09-10T08:41:00.000+08:002005-09-10T08:41:00.000+08:00Here's a polkished version of this poem:HomesickWa...Here's a polkished version of this poem:<BR/><BR/>Homesick<BR/><BR/>Walking with heavy boots<BR/>Laced by late winter slush<BR/>On these deseted city sidewalks<BR/>I pull my coat close to my chin,<BR/>Clutch my tattered gloves tighter<BR/>I still shiver!<BR/>The pale moon peeks with reluctance<BR/>Only to give me a hunched sullen shadow<BR/>And the old trees lining the streets<BR/>Bowing to console me, lay frozen, leafless.<BR/>My breaths are slow, shallow<BR/>As if to ward away the windchill<BR/>Seeping thru stoic brownstones.<BR/>So, I gather my coat even closer<BR/>Clutch my gloves even tighter<BR/>But could never conquer the cold<BR/>Creeping thru my brown-skinned core<BR/>Yearning for the warmth of a sun<BR/>That only shines in those very far<BR/>Far, far eastern skies.#<BR/><BR/>Here's another poem:<BR/><BR/>Beginnings<BR/><BR/>You breathe mist into my disquiet<BR/>Sea breeze to humid city air<BR/>As welcome as drizzle at dawn<BR/>Quenching my listless soul.<BR/>From residues<BR/>Of broken dreams, I wake up<BR/>To a field of a thousand daffodils<BR/>Van Gogh yellow aswaying<BR/>To lilting rhythms of the wind<BR/>Randomly strewm about the fallen trunks<BR/>Fallen headlong from the firmament<BR/>When the lightning struck my night.<BR/> #Anonymousnoreply@blogger.com