BOX

Four walls

with the absence of

four doors

and four windows.

Four choices

with the absence of

the will to choose.

Be asleep

stay awake

be fuckin’ bored

or be dead.

Either of those ways

you still have to be confined.

They let the knowledge stream

without letting you

question it.

They let the music be heard

without letting you

dance to its beat

or dare sing

to its melody.

They let the love radiate

without letting you

feel it

or savor it.

And after a while

you get used to the

four walls.

And you stop searching for

the four doors and windows.

And you stop searching for answers

though you still exemplify the

faculties of the existing.

You breathe, you eat

you seemingly smile;

You bite your tongue

you poke your eyes.

But pain becomes

a stranger

to the senses.

And it is at this time

you would realize

you are dead

and confined.

©Marjo Josue

Happiness In Love... Found

Daylight penetrated

my shadowy life;

Rays of hope

came like prophets,

Angels descended for the good news

proclaiming love … found!

But doubt hovered

My heart filled with fear

for the doomed value of my youth

and the principles I broke;

for the love found for eternity

that shed light to this

abandoned spirit.

I may have bridged over sorrow

and crossed the darkness of tunnels,

I may have fought the inevitable

and lost the stupid game they call love;

But then again, I hoped

and my prayer was granted,

He accepted this scorned soul

and embraced the beleaguered woman in me.

Then vows were made

But hey! Were they from Heaven?

Do I deserve happiness?

Do I deserve love?

Do I deserve him?

He may be the one.

He has to be the one.

Deep in this wounded heart

stream a music that was searching

for the right note to be struck,

so love would radiate

from the unknown crypt

where I once hid

from the selfishness of my prey.

Now the chains were broken,

the burden was lifted up;

The love I was once just yearning for

conquered the fear that blinded me

and has brought me home

from that of which I thought

was my sarcophagus

of no return.

And now I have known

what real happiness is.

Yes! It’s in the arms of my husband.

It’s in the warmth of his embrace.

It’s in the song of his silence.

It’s in the melody of his voice.

It’s in the solitude I have found in his gaze.

It’s in the music of his laughter.

It’s in the joy of his love.

Yes! It’s in this man

that I have found happiness in love

at last.

©Marjo Josue

Happiness in Love

Darkness, caves,

Light, valleys and plains;

Where does this road lead me?

Rain poured, unexpectedly,

flood came, drowning my soul;

my heart pounding

eyes blurred with tears.

My mind traveling

way back…

Am I wrong?

Meeting love.

Meeting hatred.

Yet, chose to love again?

I came across sorrow in happiness,

I felt pain in love,

But I never learned!

Now, I wallow in misery… again.

Was it I?

Was it you?

Wasn’t it right for us?

I tried to understand

I know you gave your best, too.

Perhaps it was love.

Perhaps it wasn’t.

Or still, time wasn’t right

that you and I would be.

Wandering… I came to a stop,

“Do I love you?”

I listened…

“I’m no longer sure

as I was before.”

Was it because of pride?

I don’t know.

Then I let go.

Disguising myself,

I smile.

I laugh.

Thinking.

Oh! We really would never be!

Asking myself:

When would happiness

be real happiness

not pain clothe in joy;

When will love

be endless and true love?

Only heaven knows!

Hoping. Wishing.

praying hard, too.

That in the right time

in a right place

with the right person

I’ll find happiness in love.

©Marjo Josue

A Child's Lullabye

Looking Through the Throes of Death

Slowly, I unlocked my steps
pressing my sores to the murky ground
pain becomes almost unbearable
will there be nails and thorns
a hole ready to engulf me
or a shroud trying to cover an unbreathing spirit?

Slowly, I shut my ears to hear nothing
including the raspy tremble of my fear
unwilling that I am close to a whisper
I said, “Am I Job’s reincarnation?”
my thoughts muttered underneath its breath,
“No. God isn’t that so hard.”

Slowly, I blocked my senses with a mantra,
“I would die an honorable woman.”
Then I fancied the oat cells scramble through my veins
like rebel troupes killing every innocent soul
leaving bomb shells that will detonateanytime soon.
Fiercely.

Slowly, I began to dread the silence
I was waiting for my soles to be pricked
or a thick cloud of darkness to embrace me
angry mavericks extricating my last ounce of oxygen
my thoughts dwindle in stupor for an explosion
but there was none.

“Am I still alive?”
My lungs inhaled the pollution of this city
then I exhaled a rant, “Off the hook!”
That’s when I realized I am inside a bus home
slept over half-way reading about Death by Jagad Guru
Siddhaswarupananda Paramahamsa.






Cancer killed my mother. I fear that the same oat cells would bring me to my grave. Ah, death!

Wild Boar

triumphant, I gave two creatures life
hoping that they impart to the world
the real meaning of their valued existence
like what Jesus did
driving bad spirits into the herd

Waterlily

floating, freedom to be
loving the water that cleanses what is physical
purifying it in return
symbiosis
the science of co-existing
and the essence of living