Showing posts with label poem. Show all posts
Showing posts with label poem. Show all posts

Thursday, March 29, 2012

Spelling Out Life... with Sands of Time

I had a poem written for literature class this week. It was supposed to be for Ipu Beridang, my great grandma who left us last November. But little that I know, her first daughter, Kerato Daring, aka my own grandma, left us last night at 11pm. It was shocking and I thought I could see her again alive on Saturday. I had it all planned out but I was wrong. I love you, Ipu.


Here goes:

Sands of time falls in arrear
Petals dance in tears
No sight of heaven here
nor the heart is a crown.
wait, I can hear the sand finally ceases now
rest for awhile,
I'll catch on. Don't you worry.
For the sun rises and falls,
and there's grace that calls.

Thursday, October 7, 2010

Spelling Out Life... with Author's Feather


Author's Feather by Joy Gracia Liso


paper roses, pink and red
may I want a yellow instead
songs of joy for thy songs of love, grace and faith
seemingly parted by earthly death

return, my love
for many demands of roaring tides to subside
once died, then no more
but tales of us an opportune life
no tides or demands shall part us both,
cause life inscribed by the author's feather

Tuesday, April 13, 2010

spelling Out Life... with Onóir, Grá agus Ghaois

A poem of my own.
enjoy! :)



Onóir Grá agus Ghaois



a sweet lie reigns:
money, influence and power defines leadership.

places where we walk and conquer
you come and make labours
cries of foul and resentments arise
you come and make hatreds
blue, red, green papers of yours never satisfy
when you come and make beggars
many have seen it.
not just I.

My heads,
when all else disappears,
tá sé onóir, grá agus ghaois go sainmhínítear a ceannaire
amen

Tuesday, February 2, 2010

Spelling Out Life... with English


ONLY THE ENGLISH COULD HAVE INVENTED THIS LANGUAGE

We'll begin with a box, and the plural is boxes,
But the plural of ox becomes oxen, not oxes.
One fowl is a goose, but two are called geese,
Yet the plural of moose should never be meese.
You may find a lone mouse or a nest full of mice,
Yet the plural of house is houses, not hice.

If the plural of man is always called men,
Then shouldn't the plural of pan be called pen?
If I speak of my foot and show you my feet,
And I give you a boot, would a pair be called beet?
If one is a tooth and a whole set are teeth,
Why shouldn't the plural of booth be called beeth?

Then one may be that, and three would be those,
Yet hat in the plural would never be hose,
And the plural of cat is cats, not cose.
We speak of a brother and also of brethren,
But though we say mother, we never say methren.
Then the masculine pronouns are he, his and him,
But imagine the feminine: she, shis and shim!

Let's face it - English is a crazy language.
There is no egg in eggplant nor ham in hamburger;
neither apple nor pine in pineapple.
English muffins weren't invented in England ..
We take English for granted, but if we explore its paradoxes,
we find that quicksand can work slowly, boxing rings are square,
and a guinea pig is neither from Guinea nor is it a pig.

And why is it that writers write but fingers don't fing,
grocers don't groce and hammers don't ham?
Doesn't it seem crazy that you can make amends but not one amend.
If you have a bunch of odds and ends
and get rid of all but one of them, what do you call it?

If teachers taught, why didn't preachers praught?
If a vegetarian eats vegetables, what does a humanitarian eat?
Sometimes I think all the folks who grew up speaking English
should be committed to an asylum for the verbally insane.

In what other language do people recite at a play and play at a recital?
We ship by truck but send cargo by ship.
We have noses that run and feet that smell.
We park in a driveway and drive in a parkway.
And how can a slim chance and a fat chance be the same,
while a wise man and a wise guy are opposites?

You have to marvel at the unique lunacy of a language
in which your house can burn up as it burns
down, in which you fill in a form by filling it out,
and in which an alarm goes off by going on.

And, in closing, if Father is Pop? how come Mother's not Mop?

I WOULD LIKE TO ADD THAT IF PEOPLE FROM POLAND ARE CALLED POLES THEN

PEOPLE FROM HOLLAND SHOULD BE HOLES AND THE GERMANS GERMS!


-Unknown Author






To be honest, this author is giving me a pain in the butt.

=.="

I'm going to recite this poem during FESSAT this weekend.

I like this poem, I do. BECAUSE it is English and It's easy to understand...

but then kan... how bout to people with not-so-fluent level?

not assuming, just questioning.

Shouldn't the felo give people a more emotional poem

which we can easily relate

than teaching them English through poem??




ah well, 1 minute of recital or not, boring or not,

I'm going to give my best.

I've been called to serve Christ at whatever I'm doing,

Worship is not just mere songs, worship is a lifestyle

and this is it.



BY HOOK OR BY CROOK,

THE GOAL IS WHAT I'LL LOOK!

-joy




XDDDD





Tuesday, January 19, 2010

Spelling Out Life... with Poem Recital!





I'll be reciting a poem by someone unknown.
in whom I don't understand WHY I agreed to it, at the first place.
HAHAAHHAHAHAHAHAAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAAHAHAHAHAHHAHAH



conversation is as followed:

Kak Syud: eh Joy, you boleh tolong akak tak?
Me: er.. Okay? Tolong untuk apa?
Kak Syud: tolong baca poem untuk event FESSAT
Me: ha? *lost in space*
Kak Syud: Senang je... Baca je poem tu, nanti ada felo ajar you camne nak baca
Me: ha? er... Okay! Boleh boleh.. Baca jak kan? *gleefully smiling*
Kak Syud : ahha..


then to my un-dismay emotions, I ended up have to recite this LONG poem by somebody unknown, who made it known for his/her poem, on how crazy is English as a language. It is a page long. xD

To those beloveds, who wants to watch me read a long winding poem, do come! do come! it's my first ever experience to recite an English poem in front of KTHO and invited university by IIC (International Islamic College) from somewhere around somewhere. HAHAHAHHAHAHA..


So, an experience in the bag, already done for this semester. :)
A lot more to come!




See you! xDDDDD
xoxo!

Spelling Out Life... with Consciousness


a deep sea with moving fishes
some swim as they come and go
some swim with fear and trembling muscles
when it comes down to the end
they have a purpose served
I wonder what are those

a soul of questioning all
could I have been with you previously?
could I have been with someone else?
even now,
I see us like those fishes
come and go
passing as we ignore the mere existence
i know there'll be a time
there'll be a time
for both world to embrace.

while i walk amongst the crowd
against them
against the possibilities
between the signs and seasons.
pondering and musingly in love with you
achingly lifting up a made up glee
one day, darling.
one day.
and we'll walk that way
and we'll know it is ours.


xoxo,
joy.