In A Wild, Deserted Dance
In ancient, wild
and wet
woodlands—
I, too, will
grow well
even without
provisions,
or aftercare. I
do not need
special
treatment, and/or
to be treated
like a god.
Ah, no one
should be!
Love, hear me,
in
your own
—
p
a
t
h
w
a
y
—
forget me
not.
The Unpointed Sword
O, her heart
also
processes datas
and informations
that she
receives
about his device
and its
longevity
from
busy-bodies,
according to
their
terms and
policies
and as permitted
by applicable
law.
Like old
masters,
her goal is to
get
life moving
again,
after the
intense scrutiny of his
dark
autumn
eyes,
without suddenly
free-flirting
her flesh,
without going
against
the testaments
of her
innocence - the
God
I never had;
thus
shall I go . . .
The Litter Of God
While it may
seem
like it would be
worthy
to “give and take,” love
is actually a
great resource
for all of a
life’s primal needs.
Everything a
love needs to thrive
– listening,
understanding,
patience
and
kind
heartbeats –
can be
found in us.
Our different
senses will use
different
emotions
of love – the
litter of
God – in which I
have
found an elegant
home,
so perfect for
your heart
that appreciates
timeless
beauty of
yourself, not
of someone
else's...
ERNESTO P. SANTIAGO
ERNESTO P. SANTIAGO for a long time had
believed that poetry is his flowing (es)cape to a higher understanding of the
wor(l)d. He spends all his free time between here and there, trying to learn
something. He is too small for his ego. He is enough for himself. As a poet the
shape of words interests him. He is fully confident in his identity with a
Filipino heart. He lives in Athens, Greece, and is inspired daily by the myth
of his poetic senses.
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