You handed me a bookmark--
Inexpensive token for anniversary
with scenic print of flowers
butterflies and honeybees. 

I thought it was sweet--
with message that says
our love will always be
remembered

Like that of the butterfly
your wings will never fly away.

Like that of the foliage evergreen
And the flowers ever scented

Like that of the bees, we keep
Hoping from pollen to pollen
Gathering all the sweetest nectar
We could find all to create
The honey for our days.

Like that of a book I love to read
Breathing stories of love, happiness
Sometimes defeat,

We live it through--

And your bookmark always helps
Me remember pages and days.

Little did I know
That the book where I once
Left the bookmark on won’t turn
half way through a predictable ending.

The other pages left unread.
The bookmark flattened and olden

Long after our anniversary
Memories turned yellow

It remembers
Our story’s ending
Soon after we forget.

original poem by: Romel G. Samson
Posted Dec. 01, 2004

Suddenly-
I feel so empty.
Hollow as if a portion
had been taken away.
 
Deeply-
It saddens me 
that I couldn't look at anything
except my feet-
just stare at my toes, fearful
to gaze at the rest
of my body parts.
 
The wind is whistling
right through-
I am not there at all.
No one dares to look at me,
touch me-
I'm translucent.
 
All the icings of my being
had been melted and daubed.
An essence of life
thinly splattered,
fragmented.
 
Longing for a warm hand
to knead me, bread me,
create dough
From my fallen crumbs-
 
Leaven me with warmth
that I may be baked
into a wedding cake,
layered with adulation-
a taste away
to completion.

Original works by;
Romel G. Samson Nov. 26, 2004

Where do we hide the memories of a faded love?

Is it in the hallways of our mind where a thousand

others occupied a place unrecalled, neglected and buried?

Is it in the alleys and corridors of time that won’t resurrect

itself even as it echoes from miles away

calling out our name day by day but muffled by distance?

Is it in the hollowed body, calloused by pain,

Embittered by redundant agonies of loosing

but hopeful enough to keep on trying time and again?

Is it in a painted wall where thousand of colors resides

dispersing and redecorating itself to pursue a life

that’s particularly aimless and unmindful of its inhabitants?

Is it in a cracked vase or in an ancient urn for the remnants

where the withered flower and the ashen bones are kept,

a reliquary for the parted, unremembered by the livings?

Or is it in the potted rose that blooms only by seasons

tired of waiting for the rain, wilting in the flame of the sun

blown by the wind, stiffened by the soil and un-scenting in time

Or is it in our hearts pulsing effervescently and eternal

Maybe in our breath, perpetually waiting for a final rest

for it to pale away as sure as the inevitable death…

But when?

I’m burning down the oil again; I need to clear the air and breathe
Hell had visited me just a while ago and invited me for a drink.
I refused to lie beside him but I guess I have no other choice
This bed is too small for the two of us and he occupied the bigger part.

I have to suffice myself on what was left, uncomfortably I concede,
Loosen my resistance to his entry or otherwise I would crack.
I tried to shut it tight yet his stinking breath made me puke and open up.
His hard fist just keep hitting the weakened spot between my thighs

Weakening grip, the hinges of my gate unbolted wide open for his trout
                                     Thought heaven was within my grasp, yet in my hand’s a fistful of mud
                                     Scream as I may and run to find my shelter from the burning sulfur
                                     Of his towering inferno that’s about to erupt, all within his painful thrust.

                                     Yet I have no option but to let the devil in, I’m but his passage door
                                     For his admission to the other side of the hell he is, he calls it paradise

I hear your voice just everywhere,
It echoes in my silence, a haunting despair.

Thoughts of you in my mind they linger
Pain is endless I’m bound to no repair

Mysteries like the night through all the day
Hurling murky pigments of a dark dismay

A firefly I am with no light of my own
Flaming in blue as though dishonored dawn

Falling in silence on a lonely window pane
Redundant in asylum that’s rusty stained

Hurting the shelter of a fallen man in pain
Love, you bring to me a handful of rain.