On prose and poetry

I was browsing a website designed by our company (PODD) titled Pinoy Poets and I came across this poem:

A Love Letter
by Dwane Arboleda

Sometimes I see shadows
where there shouldn't be.
Movement
when everything is still.
Sometimes I think
I'm going crazy
all alone.

And then I met you
and loved you.

Now I see glimmers
in the shadows,
Serenity in a
raging storm.
I still think
I'm going crazy
at least now
I'm not alone.

I love its simplicity and directness. It is a short poem but I was touched. Anyways, this post is not about that particular poem, LOL. I browsed over several of the poems and I noticed that most of the poems posted on the site were written by men. So do most of the poems I loved like Manggang Hilaw and Worms. This made me think and wonder since our perception is that women have the expressive, emotional, and sensitive nature compared to men. And poems, I think is one of the best media to convey emotion.

Then I thought, many of the best poets in history are men. Shakespeare, Robert Frost, Robert Browning, Edgar Allan Poe... I'm looking at a list right now and I'm seeing a lot of men's names. Maybe men are better at putting emotions into words. Maybe they are more creative with using them while women just throw it all out without finesse.. hehe. So with this in mind, I asked Gigi to make a poem. Let's see if it is any good.. hehe.. :)

I was searching for more poems and I found this cute one:

Scrambled

I climbed up the door and
I opened the stairs.
I said my pajamas
and buttoned my prayers.

I turned off the covers
and pulled up the light.
I’m all scrambled up since
she kissed me last night.


Awww.. how sweet. Hehe.

And I also found this poem written by Queen Elizabeth Tudor I.

ON MONSIEUR'S DEPARTURE

I grieve and dare not show my discontent,
I love and yet am forced to seem to hate,
I do, yet dare not say I ever meant,
I seem stark mute but inwardly to prate.
I am and not, I freeze and yet am burned.
Since from myself another self I turned.

My care is like my shadow in the sun,
Follows me flying, flies when I pursue it,
Stands and lies by me, doth what I have done.
His too familiar care doth make me rue it.
No means I find to rid him from my breast,
Till by the end of things it be supprest.

Some gentler passion slide into my mind,
For I am soft and made of melting snow;
Or be more cruel, love, and so be kind.
Let me or float or sink, be high or low.
Or let me live with some more sweet content,
Or die and so forget what love ere meant


Finally, here's my favorite Haiku:

Snow melts.
Suddenly, the village
is full of children.

That's all I wanna write.. :)

cheers..