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Image is a mashup of photos by Jaymantri @ pexels.com and Trinck @ pixabay.com. The imagery employs some amount of Gaussian blur combined with a zooming effect. Neither of the original photos is anywhere near 71st Sinaiyah.
splitting seconds
this is what a WTD moment
on 71st Sinaiyah at my 10:
10:00 AM looks like from
the driver’s seat:narrow asphalt lanes
no longer than a mile
going and coming empty
but for the single file of sad cars
illegally parked along the curbs
— but only illegal for stray
traffic cops to say —
withering dull or glossy
under the desert sun on
either side of 10:09:58 AM,
twin solid yellow lines solemnly mark
separation at the middle of the world
promising a robust paradise
at the foreseeable future bend,
when from the corner of an eye
a red ocher car whips up to life:
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the image by annca @ pixabay.com has been slightly modified by an overlay of a 1950’s family photo
lost in time
one day gone
and i don’t remember anymore
how my little brother looks like
— blame my eyes for they have seen
much to the seclusion of simplicitya lock of golden hair
mingling with the innocence of
a face, or the hippie look
of david bowie?
sweet brown eyes round and full
of crinkled laughter silently
echoed within the brown of the eyes
but it could well be
the piercing green of that creature
in the exorcistthe pristine curve of
pinkish lips in the manner of a
smile and the reddish dimple of
a child three years old,
but no — i envision the sneer
of a fox and the dimple of
a gorilla.i reach for the picture in my
pocket, but alas
the picture of my little brother
has blurred away
with the passing of
moments.© said sadain, jr. 1974
Notes:
The poem “lost in time” first saw print in the Focus Philippines Magazine, 9 Nov. 1974 issue. The film The Exorcist (released to cinemas in late 1973) apparently confused my young mind enough back then to deserve being mentioned in this poem. So did David Bowie’s look confused me a lot, looking really more of hip than hippie with his gender-blending beatnik-ness that could easily color nightmares. While not much of a fan of Bowie’s music or his style, I did pay attention to some of his songs’ poetry, such as Life On Mars and Starman, this early interest to seemingly augur my later-life fascination with the exploits of Elon Musk 😀
— SSJ, 10 Nov. 2018
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Image is cropped from a photo by Engin_Akyurt @ pixabay.com
countless colors shall bring tomorrow
the fires of life taste the flavorof dwarf gardens in poets’ dreamsraised by cold river on rushing currents.nearby, a bare tree smiles at the skyand rises directly to the wind:behold the promise of a fountain fallto dissipate the fancies on raysof countless sun colors that knitthe fabrics of a boundless morrow.________© said sadain, jr. 2018Notes:
I pride myself at being a part-time writer. I have to live up to that designation, that is why, among other things, I went off the grid for a while, away from this blog 🙂 No apologies there. But I did not expect the off-gridding to take longer than it did, for other more pressing reasons, and for that I apologize. Perhaps I need to change the appellation from being a Part-Time Writer to simply being a Now-You-See-Him-Now-You-Don’t Writer. I’ll take pride in that too 🙂Thank you for sticking around and reading this blog. Have an enjoyable weekend, everyone.— SSJ, 2 Nov. 2018 -
The Right To Peace
“It is time all nations and all people live up to the words of the Universal Declaration of Human Rights, which recognizes the inherent dignity and equal and inalienable rights of all members of the human race.”
— Secretary-General António Guterres
photo by sasint @ pixabay.com
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image is a mashup of photos and artwork of darksouls1, 41330 and PublicDomainPictures @ pixabay.com
a mother’s whisper
the sad letters of empty pages
sit with me and my daily wages,
mother whispers from miles of hue:back home my son they look for you
on window sills where hang the stars
that pluck the notes from your guitar,
are you this coffee memory
across the table, across the sea?
the frogs and turtles have come to pass
to sing the chorus of the grass,
to drown in rain of lines unwritten
to wait for you pick up the pen,
to write your blank letters on sad edges
to read with me the sky’s pages
© said sadain, jr. 2018
Note:
I shall be away from blogging for at least a month, to drown in rain of lines unwritten, to sit on pages of algorithms. Until then, here’s wishing you good health and starry nights.
— Said, 23 August 2018
Photo by Juan Pablo Arenas on Pexels.com
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ヒメボタル photo credit: © Tsuneaki Hiramatsu, digitalphoto.cocolog-nifty.com
“….a thousand hugs from ten thousand lightning bugs….”*
As a child, I used to chase and marvel at the fireflies twinkling in the night. As an adult, I now look at the fireflies as a glowing refutation of Charles Darwin’s theory of evolution:
Bioluminescence, the process by which fireflies produce light without heat, is said to be a very efficient process. According to firefly expert Dr. Marc Branham, associate professor of the Department of Entomology and Nematology, University of Florida, almost all of the firefly’s energy involved in bioluminescence is given off as light. Compare that to a traditional incandescent bulb that uses a lot of energy to produce light, while wasting 90% of that energy as heat released to the atmosphere. Bioluminescence thus would seem like a very desirable survival mechanism for the human being, a beneficial mutation waiting to happen and to be preserved, much like the appendages of man that the theory of evolution would have us believe were the spontaneous product of natural selection as life evolved from amphibian to terrestrial.
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image is by FelixMittermeier @ pixabay.com
the significance of being black or white
black, some people believe,
is the murder of colors
and white, their liberationwhile others claim black is
the acceptance of colors
and white, their rejectionbut neither black nor white
can tell the whole truth
about the world of colors. -
Total lunar eclipse over the Jeddah sky (is that white dot the red planet Mars?). Photo by SSJ, 27 July 2018
Total lunar eclipse over the Jeddah sky (is that white dot really the red planet Mars!?). Photo by SSJ, 27 July 2018
a blood moon risen,
is it blemished with my sins,
wounded with my pains?© said sadain, jr. 2018
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the falling (a love story)
he feels she likes him
she feels he likes her
past iambic convos
their arms brush electric
as armrest fades to clouds
this must be love astir
floating from their bosoms
flutterbies of lightand all
the light
to breathe
to breathe
- when the lustered sea embraces the sand, is it to claim or cede its flotsam? when my mind sails with the rolling wind, is it to cast or catch a sparkle?
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