Nameless

by : Bacardi Gold
28/Dec/2020

Photo by Sebastiaan Stam on Pexels.com


I can only see you in the night
but you’re not the smoke of the slumberland
that emerges in between the deep of the dark and the lights of dawn

you change faces
but you’re not wearing any powders of colors
only expressions of the heart

you move in different directions
but you’re not the wind
that blows strong and becomes the day’s storm with dangerous character

you become a soldier of your faith
who encourages crowds of non-believers to worship a god
and becomes the first to disobey your god’s teachings and beliefs

who are you
you’re a nameless hero of your time
who comes into view in the modern world of man

tonight i’ll be waiting for you
not in my dreams
not in reality
not in your own truth

your appearance is my want
to embrace the whole of me
and be myself in the vastness of space
’till i return from the perfumed froth of brew…






Interlude

by : Bacardi Gold
26/Dec/2020

Photo by Bianca on Pexels.com


this season’s interlude
of freezing morning spell
awaiting the emerging sun
to paint the sky with colors

the dawn deserves a twilight
chasing a familiar night
waiting to spend a sunny morning
where cold hearts will be warmed

feathered clouds in colored haze
teased the moment with uncertainty
an hour of a pleasant sky hides
sad tears of a bereaved comedy …









Stranger

by : Bacardi Gold
25/Dec/2020

Photo by Sharefaith on Pexels.com

i am a stranger
an intruder of myself
i have become an alien
to my dawned habits
an immigrant of my dreams

In the nights of my growth
one barely knew me
i became a wanderer
in the palace of my soul
under a different roof

the ages drag me through
in the shelter of saints
where prayers became foods
in every meals of sinners
named me the guest of squatters

no longer a stranger
in the company of reformed
a drifter with wings
ready to take the merits of dignity
i am a resident of my own self…





Plumage


Birds of different kinds
Clothed in feathers of colors
Layers after layers

Can be thick or thin

Feather quills are derived
On empty paper to write
In the olden days of poets
Inked on books inscribed


Thin feather always floats
Where the air’s direction it goes
And when the breeze is unmanned
The feather is destined to land




Colors

by : Bacardi Gold
23/Dec/2020

ᵃ̳ᵏ̳ˢ̳ʰ̳ ̳ⁿ̳ᵒ̳ᵒ̳ʳ̳



Your eyes can see the colors
and the shades of your life
As they walk the journeys
of the days and nights
The advent of the coming storm
and the promises of spring
Colors are awaiting to form
your best decisions could bring…


image from Pinterest


Starfield library, CoEx Mall, Seoul, South Korea

by : Bacardi Gold
21/Dec/2020


We had a chance to visit this mall in Seoul, South Korea and I was in awe and astounded to see this library with high rise shelves for their books. The long table filled with book lovers reading their kind of materials was an extraordinary sight to see inside a mall.

—0o0—


Weapons of “war”…

by : Bacardi Gold
18/Dec/2020



My nights don’t wish
they only serve choices

My dreams don’t narrate fantasies
they deliver only realities

My realities are my dreams
done in the days where
there are no victims
only conquerors and victors

Who knows how to weave a dream?
a dream liked by the weaver to happen…
then, strength and persistence to succeed
are weapons of war indeed…


–0o0–




Little rains

by : Bacardi Gold
18/Dec/2020

Little rains, whispers of the twilight
want to know where you’ve been
sunset hides from the clouds they fell
in the silence of the world’s noise
Little rains, droplets of diamonds
glisten through the near-night sky
catch the weakened rays of the sun
comfort the tears, smile and dry your eyes

–0o0–

We are meant to be

by : Bacardi Gold
16/Dec/2020


Photo by Vera Arsic on Pexels.com

recounting moments when i was down in dumps
clouds in laze straining the sun
sounds and motions were ultimately restrained
these were the days i bumped the humps

almost shed some precious tears
my heart had roughly stopped beating
facing the time of one of my fears
rule of yours had me emptied hoping

dusts of spats repeatedly emerged
small things became war of words
not you nor i have claimed the fault
your tongue was always the sharpest sword

years were routinely in that troubled ways
unceasingly waited to hear the magic of sorry
won’t let the hurt to crush and outweigh
my love for you was so special to me

through the times you became my strength
i was slumping down when you lifted me so high
believing in myself that this love would be my last
to triumph over discomforts in my battle cry

our life’s shadowed moments have their ends
to cheer our hearts again everyone would envy
streams of these troubled waters have their bends
our love we have kept, ’cause we are meant to be…

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