Mga Tula

A Boy and His Window

Photo by Emre Kuzu on

”Paper Boat”

I was molded by a Great Artist

By his amazing hand

He folded me to my final form

Like a wizard with His wand

He let me float on the water

And let me go

He give me freedom

To continue my voyage

I travel with the flow of water

But suddenly, I bumped on a stone

And I began to lurch

But he pushed me

And let me continue

After a long voyage

I am filled with water

And I soaked

And I’m torn into pieces

Photo by Rikonavt on

“Tricked by Eyes”

I woke up early

and open my window

I look at the fields

and went downstairs

to smell the bright morning

I walk while wondering

Then I saw a fur like pink flower

but oh! It hurts when I touched it

It is a mimosa

I stood up and continue to walk

I saw a red tinted flower

but oh! It hurts when I touched it

It was covered with thorns

I then realized

even the most beautiful

and attractive flower

have hidden thorns in it

The most colorful snake 

in the dense of forest

Is also the most baneful

And venomous of them all

Photo by Nur Andi Ravsanjani Gusma on

”The Rain”

Sitting in the balcony

When I see that crowds are gray

And then heavy rain falls

Flowing on houses walls

It fills the moat

And the granite walls of  fort

The rain goes through the gutter

As it skates like an expert skater

They say rain is a gray horse

Galloping on metal roofs

Like jiggling coins in purse

As it creates sounds of it’s hoofs

The rain falls for our mirth

To water the dry earth

Sprinkling the wild shrew

And creates a greenish view

Photo by samer daboul on

“Dry Leaf”

By the abet of sunlight

I was awaken from deep sleep

Now I am part of a tree

A tree for birds to lie on

I extend my green self

and I sway with the wind

like a pendant

I show my visage to all

to vociferous people who are passing by

I became the most adorable

leaf in the woods

and I got the most favor of them all

a shade for a tired man

But age transform me into an old

and nothing but a dry leaf

who is blown by the wind

fall on the sand

poor moldy leaf

Photo by Nick Bondarev on

“Dulcet Music”

Here on mountains, I am nourished with music 

By songs birds sung for millions of years

yes, mountains feed my heart with music

My heart dance and sing every song it hears

My heart flutter like birds flying

That caper from bush to trees

my heart crave to neigh like horse galloping

from a stable on a breeze

to shriek like water when it skims and bumped

over stones on its way

to sing and wander through the years

like flamingoes which are pink and gay

I climbed to lofty hills when I’m lone

I know it will be eased by dulcet tone

I was truly extol by these music

An eternal gift when we are meek

Photo by Egor Kamelev on

“Sand Castle”

I get the shovel and pail

to make the sandcastle sprung

It set on foot to prevail

and caused the trumpet to sang

A lofty castle I install 

and let the king hermit crab rule

but suddenly, high tide arrive

The castle lose on the strive

It was annihilated by water

when the water is already meek

and the waves are assured it’s on veer

I behold small flags which sadly wrecked

Photo by on

“Mask Festival”

Once there was a man who lives with God

Then he bought a farm to cultivate

He dig the soil and form few plots

He plants on it a crimson rose

And numbers of green leafy cabbage

He watered and fertilized them

Then all these lovely plants vegetate

He continued, irrigating it day and night

But one day, he wore his mask

and destroy all his plants

Alacrity seems lose in his mind

Alas! Was he the farmer 

Who planted it and overseer it?

Yes it is him, the assiduous one

the next day, he took his hoe

and he mellowed the ground

and replant his blameless plants

Photo by Tucu0103 Bianca on

“Elegance of Thorns”

When I elapse on my garden one day

There, a blood tinted flowers array

the zest in my eyes sprout

and push my pillars which stout

to fleet and gaze it’s beauty

In instance, it pierced my finger

A pierce to my own dignity

But yet I don’t regorge a choler

Silently, I took a stroll

to procure air of meekness in my soul

But now, I remember not it’s bloody harm

but rather it’s alluring charm

Ah when petals fall

what matters most of all

Do I hate the flower,

Or I love the offer?