A Poem of Folklore

Tonight’s a poem of tales and lore

And I hope I won’t be a bore

For here are myths from my own country

Come and read my poetry

I

When you dedicate your life

To prove to your dearest wife

“Monsters do exist!”

She doubts yet you insist

So one night, the men went out to hunt

Out into the battlefront

To find the monster so aloof

They need him to get their proof

They got garlic that the beast abhorred

And then, loudly, the beast roared

As they captured it, tied and chained

At night, the monster roared and strained

And as the sun rose, the men called their wives

To find an old man chained, killed with knives

II

The prices of food have rocketed

And you’ve been living from pennies you’ve pick-pocketed 

Since the insufficiency of gold

Hear this story told by the old

In spring, the fairies can give you wealth

And if you’re bad, you shall gain ill health

But the good will be invited to a banquet

You shall not say “no” nor quit

Go and eat everything on the menu

But with the golden rice, do not continue

For if you eat them, they will hold you captive

And make you their slave; they’re rather abusive

But if you say no to the golden rice

That means you’ll survive; you’re truly wise

Get all the fruits that you can carry

And at home, you’ll see, you will be merry

For the plethora of fruits that you have brought

Will turn to fortune and gold that you have sought

III 

Last but not the least

Don’t forget the pretty beast

The one who roams the seas

Their voice as gentle as the ocean breeze

But don’t be fooled by their songs and praises

Don’t be deceived by their beautiful faces

Their songs are harbingers of bloodbath

And death awaits on your path

And all the things you value in your boat

Treasures will sink while your body stays afloat 

Damned mermaids, waiting with their teeth

To feast on you underneath

(A poem about Filipino folklore)

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The Elephant’s Graveyard

“Hey, son. Do you mind if I come in?” His dad peered from the door.

Little Jim sat up straight on his bed, “Sure.”

His dad sat on his bed and placed his hand on Jim’s right leg. He looked at what’s beside his son’s right leg: nothing. He then stared straight at Jim’s eyes and said, “Son, you are still young. You’re just seven years old. I’m sorry about what happened with-“

“I’m okay,” little Jim dryly replied. His dad let out a sigh, “Fine. But I just came here to tell you a bedtime story. Is that okay?” Jim said nothing and smiled. He laid himself on the bed again and his father tucked him in under the sheets.

His father began to tell his story:

“Once, there was this amicable elephant who got along well with everybody. However, one day, his trunk got cut in half when a huge tree fell on him. Luckily, he survived, but there’s a catch. His trunk was now shorter than everyone else’s trunk.”

Jim said nothing, and his dad continued his story.

“The once amicable elephant turned sour. He didn’t know why such a bad thing happened to him. He wore his precious talisman day and night, and yet, it still couldn’t protect him from the bad things in life. What happened to him was a mystery. He didn’t know how the tree fell, or who caused it. What he knows is that all his friends in the forest: the birds, the weasels, the alligators, the tigers and the lions, everyone made fun of him. Even when the elephant went to the salon where his family often goes to, he was ridiculed, because he had no trunk to even help him drink his water.”

“Sure,” Jim said. “Because he looks like a freak now.”

His dad paused for a moment, but went on with his story.

“So, the elephant went to the graveyard, where you can see all the bones of his ancestors and their ancestors. He was ready to die. But then, there was this crow who feasts on dead elephants. When he saw the young elephant without a trunk, he flew to him and said, ‘Why are you here? You’re too young to die. I see old elephants come here to rest forever, but you… You’re not too old!'”

His dad continued, “And so the elephant told the crow everything that happened to him: the accident, his friends’ mockery, everything.”

His dad stopped talking. Little Jim said nothing for a while, but then, he talked, “And then what?”

“And then you tell me what happened next,” his dad said. “What do you think happened to the crow and to the elephant?”

“Maybe the crow laughed at him, too?” Jim said.

“Do you think the crow is laughing at the elephant right now?” His dad said in a serious tone.

Jim was the one who sighed this time. “Maybe the elephant just doesn’t know whom to trust anymore. All his close friends, and some of his family and cousins looked at him with pity. Some laughed. Some sympathized him, but it’s so annoying!” Jim couldn’t help but shout, “It’s like, I can’t go and live a normal life anymore! They don’t know what it’s like to walk with one foot. I can’t run anymore! I can’t play basketball anymore! I can’t-“

Jim suddenly stopped. He was holding back his tears. His dad didn’t move an inch, even though he wanted to hug his little son so badly, to  tousle Jim’s soft hair, but he knew his son interpreted that as some way of pitying him, and Jim was such a strong kid, he doesn’t want anyone to pity him.

“You know,” his father began. “You said the elephant doesn’t trust anyone, but the elephant definitely told the crow what he was really feeling deep inside.”

Jim wiped his tears away, “Yeah… He did…”

“You know what I think?” His dad asked. “I think the crow and the elephant became best friends.” He smiled at his son, and his son weakly smiled back at him.

“Go to bed, my little elephant.”

“Goodnight, dad,” Jim finally replied.

– – –

His dad went down the stairs to meet his wife who was making herself a cup of tea in the middle of the night.

“Hey. I’ve heard some intense shouting up there,” his wife said anxiously. “He just lost his leg and he’s just a kid! What were you thinking, Jeremy?”

“Relax, Amanda. Jim was just letting off steam.”

“And how were you able to do that?” Amanda asked. “Ever since the accident, he had his feelings bottled up. He wouldn’t even say a thing about it.”

“What I only did was tell him a story about himself,” Jeremy said. “This was his ‘elephant’s graveyard.'” Jeremy put a small bottle on the counter.

“These are my sleeping pills. They’ve been missing since yesterday,” Amanda said. “Where did you get this?”

“In Jim’s drawer,” Jeremy replied. “He must’ve taken it from your bag. He’s very smart. He knows what this bottle can do.”

 Amanda looked horrified at the thought. “What should we do?!” she gasped.

“Don’t worry,” Jeremy said as he hugged his wife. “All we need to do is to be there for him.”

 

 

 

(I think I wrote too much @_@)

Your Life, Your Decisions

When I was a child, my future seemed nothing but haze. Nothing was clear about what I was to become or what I would do as a result of being powerless over myself. All I knew was that I should do what my parents wanted me to do and my abidance as a little child was all that mattered. All my plans and all my schedules depended on my parents if they’d allow me or not. Even as a teenager, they decide when I should experience enjoyments with my friends; if I can go to that sleepover, if I am allowed to go to that concert, or if I’m allowed to hang out with friends after school.

All of the leisure time I had was mostly spent inside my house. It was a tiring childhood. It’s like getting tied to a huge-sized cactus, or being trapped in the bottom of a dark well.

There was a time though, during the high school prom, which was the best fun I had back then. There was a lot of dancing in the ballroom and a lot of guys danced with me. However, just like Cinderella, I had to go home by midnight, with my dad serving as my pumpkin ride home.

Now that I think about it, if I could only send a letter to my past self and deliver it by post, I would write to her:

“Go and stay up all night dancing. It’s okay for transgressions and rebellion, even if your father says he’s the law in the house. Because the truth is, you’re the only one who makes decisions with what you do with your life.”

 

A Wild Soul in Control

Live a life without

Limits or doubts

Like an eagle in the sky

Needing no one to satisfy

Needless for donations nor pity

Self-reliant in the harshest city

A great absconder

From the gossamer

Of life’s difficulty

Of life’s cruelty

Of things unpleasant

To attain contentment

To see the light back

Not wanting life so jet black

So that perhaps someday when

We are corpses and ashes then

Might we look back at our experience

Of a delectable existence

Addicted to MMORPG

Found an intriguing mobile game

One with a popular name

So there, the insomnia began

Once I became a fan

Playing for hours and hours

For my character to gain more power

While I snacked on meringue (my fave, actually) and sweets

Staying in bed all day with pillows and sheets

My online friends and I go

To every basement and dungeon below

Killing damned bats that hover in the air

To get some gold and items so rare

But somehow, one day, I was tired of it all

This game is just as addictive as alcohol

I knew that I ceased in doing well

At school when I found out my grades fell

I should probably find something else to satisfy me

Maybe other hobbies: scrapbook, sports or maybe black tea

I guess I’ll just read this book I always keep

And allow myself to sink into deep sleep

 

 

The Briefcase

Daniel took the briefcase from the dead body and started to walk home. He made sure no one was following him in the dark alley. He lit a cigar and placed it in the corner of his mouth. Whatever was inside the briefcase must be very important, but the agency told him he couldn’t open it nor ask questions about it. He was to retrieve it, and return it to their base as quickly as possible.

His phone rang suddenly and seeing the name of his wife on the screen, he quickly answered the call.

Honey, are you going to make it to dinner?” His wife’s sweet voice completely relaxes him.

I’ll be there in no time,” was his short reply.

His work is dangerous and he knows he could die anytime as other enemies could exercise violence to kill him, that’s why he wants to spend more time with his loving wife who doesn’t know a thing about his career. He can take the briefcase to their headquarters later.

Soon, he arrived home. He could smell the wonderful muffins and a huge roasted chicken was sitting on a plate in the middle of the table. Daniel held the briefcase in his right hand and the bouquet of flowers in his other hand.

“You’re five minutes late,” his wife smilingly said as she kindly placed a plate of muffins on the table.

I brought you something,” Daniel said as he showed his wife the bouquet he was holding. His wife took the flowers from him and gently planted a kiss on his lips.

They’re beautiful,” his wife gasped. “Now, put your silly coat and hat away, and let’s eat,” his lovingly wife said, and Daniel complied, “Gladly, your royal highness.”

He seated himself at the table as she poured him a glass of old wine. Once he took a sip, he instantly felt dizzy. He coughed blood, fell on the floor and gasped for help. His wife’s cold-blooded eyes just stared at him, a symptom of betrayal; a heartless beast waiting for him to die.

She took the briefcase and whispered to his ears, “Rest.

 

Photo from the Haunted Wordsmith’s Genre Challenge #18