Nenia Arnaiz Dulom
Biography of Nenia Arnaiz Dulom
My writings, my poems, all from deep emotions and thoughts; they come alive through my pen and breathe in my paper.
My poems, my thoughts, my feelings, my soul; all part of me, of my life, one way or another - bad or good, sad or happy, painful and frustrating, or joyful and rewarding.
Whatsoever the situation on that particular time, in that specific place and setting, I've accepted it as reality - the past, the present, and in God's will, the future.
This is my day to day travelogue. Each blank page is a void time and place awaiting to be filled in, to be completed each day; each moment of joy, loneliness, or blissful silence.
This is my way of screaming my thoughts, or perhaps my reasoning within myself.
Nenia Arnaiz Dulom Poems
A Hidden Sanctuary
It was a leisure morning walk, On a cold and breezy August, Autumn was dawning then, It started to paint the surroundings.
At the stillness of the night I heard creatures sigh Something like a sweetheart’s chant For a mate to meet and love A rendezvous at midnight
You think I am deranged, Everyday you try to shrink my brain, You play with my mind like a charmer, I dance to the music like a show girl,
Me. Blind, Deaf, And Mute
I’m Deaf. You call me deaf, a hearing-impaired, You communicate with me through your hands,
A Poem Reader
I walk through the pages, Sing through each chirpy line and rhyme, Weep through each emotional expression, Or seem to leap and dance
Through Down And Under
You put me under your watchful eyes Under the magnifying glass you scan my flesh and bones You view me on your television And classify my personality as the villain.
Bodies Of Water
From creek to river To bay to sea, Water seems to invite me, Not only to drink
My room is too crowded with unnecessary things, Making my space all choked-up and tense, Once you estimate what makes it so filled, You’ll realize they are just subjects of thrill;
My Roommate, My Traitor
I've come to realize, How foolish of me to trust, Somebody who do not have, A sense of truthfulness,
The Pain Of Letting Go
As I packed my things, I looked around and see, Many things of the past, That remind me of we;
Best Moments In My Life
Awakening in reality that I am a growing child, Recognizing the faces behind the voices I’ve heard, Knowing to walk and to grab anything near my side, Walking without a hand to hold and to guide,
My Childhood Friend
I miss the days when we were together, I never thought it could be this somber, Losing a friend of old days who was so tender, Is nothing but a heartbreaking tale.
The Bread Of Life
Thank you for the bread you’ve shared, Thank you for the kindness you remember to give, If not for these, I would sleep hungry to death, With growling stomach that never want to rest.
My Kindred Spirit
We shared not only laughter but tears, We had so much in common We thought we were born as one.
I Am But A Poem
My writings, my poems,
My words, my chords,
All products of my deep emotions;
They come alive
Through bloody ink of pen,
That cut through every page
They sink in;