I will love you, believe in you,
And express it well in poetry.
Time is like soldiers marching on to war
They move on in earnest, without looking back.
Leaving mothers, homeland and loved ones
No respect for season, whether cold or warm.
‘Time waits for no one’, so my grandpa says,
All regrets, or remorse, they are all from the past.
‘Look forward, my grandchild, that’s all you can do,
Nothing lasts forever,
You just have to push through.’
Looking back at my life
Lots of joy, lots of pain,
Loved ones from the past
I wonder how they’ve been?
Friends gained, friends lost
Memories shared from the past,
They bring a smile to my lips,
How I wish they would last.
Innocence lost, knowledge gained
I wonder which is better,
Love the things I have learned
But maybe slept more soundly when
I didn’t know what loving was,
Or losing dreams, a story’s end,
All I know was I played then
And at eight I was in bed.
All the same no regret, time marches on
Just the same, I can’t exchange what I had in my life,
until the very end.
Time is an enemy, an ally,
A concept that’s man-made
As for me I’d like to think
Time is still a faithful friend.
~ excerpt from the book ‘The Forsaken Muse’
Published on Jun 6, 2013
A video about moods, dreams, wistfulness, imagination, colours, nature, photography & poetry. Video by Daniel Isidro. Concept/Theme by Rowena Isidro.Filmed in Sydney, Australia ~ May 2013
Go, young girl,
Dream whilst you can,
The world is new,
Tomorrow seems forever.
Welcome your wistful thoughts,
your changing moods,
He will come, and he will leave,
But there’s so much to learn,
There’s so many to meet,
Go, dream, love and live.
Today I buried our love
There was no one to mourn it except me
I was planning to invite you to the funeral
But you were long gone.
You have moved on a long time ago
To making love with virtual lovers
And lifeless paper dolls.
Nothing emotional about it,
Just me alone .
I was trying to grieve
But tears won’t fall.
Some pain I felt, seeing the casket come down.
Some pain, but mostly numbed,
I have been numb through the years,
Out of reality, building sand castles and dreams that never rhymed.
Killing it was the proper thing, what is expected,
By society and all that judge.
Seeing the carcass was good.
At least it brought me to reality,
The reality that love has been dead,
a long time ago,
I just did not get it.
Burying it was just a confirmation.
I read the epitaph – it says
“In this place Love was buried.
Love tried to live,
But Love gave up finally.