Eloida Capuno

The fledgling bush
grew into a tree
not without
birth pains
...

after some days of freedom
from the raging rain that falls
it is back in earnest crying
as its full might unfold
...

i see her everyday on my way to work
she is there by the wide window of
an old house near the road where i used
to come and go
...

it did not escape me
those sideway glances
as you stood in that corner
i pretended to ignore
...

Watching the tiny
one year old playing
with her toes
I am amazed at
...

She passed away today
My dog of nine years
She went quietly as she
did when I first had her on a box
...

twisted thoughts of long ago
reverberates like an echo
haunting scenes
forbidden like the poisoned tree
...

be generous with praises
i want to be appreciated
every now and then
...

i pray not for myself
i know i have been blessed
i pray not for wealth
but for those who have less
...

the thing that makes me smile
is not the thing itself
but the thoughts
i gather with it
...

tonight i saw the moon
i thought i saw it smile
i lifted my teacup
it nodded in acceptance
...

This is nothing to be ashamed of
Her mother used to say
This abject poverty is not
our fault
...

a tiny bud is plucked from the garden
and thrust into a watered vase with the others
it struggled to find space in that little vase
competing with the other flowers
...

'for thou art dust, and unto dust
thou shall return'

you and i
...

each night and day
brings me closer
to the edge
the stiff cliff
...

i slept soundly for the
first time in many years
and though i woke up
to a gloomy rainy morning
...

there is something strange
i see in your smiles
it was not the spontaneous
parting of your lips
...

maybe i have become jaded
in this world of utter
shamelessness
that one simple act
...

the eyes are the medium
the indicium of prurient thoughts
unspoken, yet the intense gaze
channels the basal carnal needs
...

your eyes spoke eloquently
in silence
gaze darting
as if at any moment
...