Biography of Efren Petalver Carranza
I am a believer of “A good friend is a connection to life, a tie to the past, a road to the future, the key to sanity in totally insane world.” [Lois Wyse, Author]. And, if I have another friend to claim for, it is my invisible friend: my cyber-world friend who told me that, “writing is an exercise of the mind, ” in this insane world. Therefore, my writings and poetry are not educational matters; these are something that I like to do to keep my mind active. “It doesn’t matter how it is criticized or who criticizes it, ” she said. I know my poetry is not that great, and I know that my grammars are not right at times either, and if my poems are floating around in the space of nowhere, and if someone stops by and finishes reading them, I must have done right to attract their attention. So, to my invisible friend out there, I thank you for your good advices and influential wisdom. You are my “road to the future, ” and my “key to sanity, ” and with life to connect: it is what it is; we are what are.
To be laughed at, ridiculed or mocked, to be disdained and or to be liked, believed, and to be praised, we own ourselves. We are the masters of our own wellbeing, and all the rights and wrongs we seemed to know it all; as a result, we become stubborn or too stubborn to be dictated, directed, or redirected. Thus, the insights of our dreams are roads we follow – either we stumble or fall, but God has given us the strength to rise and move on.
To be your own self: create your own character, devise your own language, have your own philosophy and find your own path; in that way, you are alone but unique to meet many.
- A Dream Is Still a Dream Until It Become...
- A Glance From The Past
- A Heart of Stone
- A Piece Of Opinion For The 99% Occupy
- A Voice of Reason
- AIP [Ageing In Progress]
- All of My Greatest Thanks!
- All Seems Like Yesterday
- Along Way Home
- Another Excuse! Another Lie!
- At The Minor's Field
- Beware of What Your CP Can Do
- Brotherly Love
- Can You Feel It?
Love comes like a rose-vine clinging upward
Grasping for that first cool breeze of spring air
With a kiss of sunrise to its beauty’s reward
Fragrance burst out from its eminent bud’s lair.
When withered tree stands upon winter’s bliss,
And a snow shimmers on its branches’ content,
Love comes in spring for new leaves then to hiss,
Till this season’s course breakthrough its intent