Category Archives: Poetry

… April flowers bring May showers …

the twilight tempest

Up above
in the Kingdom of Kindred they are crying
unsure of him and his voyage he is trying.
The blanket is hauled across the sky
like storied Queen, the stoic King is raining.

Unaccompanied he thinks.
Lays and sinks.
Not drowning. Not blemishing.
Questioning…
Is the sunshine waiting?

As meteors screech from these incorrigible eyes
eventide conceals the white-blue skies
wistfully clouding wishful stars.
These soulful shadows dawn disguise
he is his captain slipping on the rise.

Follow your heart. They do…
to junctures full of misgivings.

She once recorded of love and gain.
But now
ink
like blood
manifests the strain.

Without amour and her sentinel
her heart will drain.
As he drips alone
missing his healer
life once immaculate is stained.

You, Spring, full of brilliance
and exultation… Why must you rain?

As the shower fabricates its sound
she lets fall in drops
and weakens.
This must be untrue to wary tales
This is not the end.

Come flash then thunder
through torrent they well ascend.
To the portal of the crowns around the bend
in this flood they will levitate.
Please rain…

Do not let our vessels deepen.

– © Leonceo V. Angsioco

Kerry Park, Seattle after a fresh natural cleanse.

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Puerto Vallarta Breeze

Sunset in Puerto Vallarta

Tropical Moonlit Thoughts

Two starving sea gulls sweep
soundlessly together into the sea
capturing feelings with words
once thought an impossibility.

On hammocks, eyes watch water
a courageous moon reflects angelic
with stunning silence, souls speak
singing sounds with laughter poetic.

Meandering mouths whisper
carried loud in the breeze
tender fingers and toes
grab sand, trying to please.

No motive messages are delivered
in sync with the crashing waves
hands orchestrate majestically
knowing what only the heart craves.

A shooting star streaks stellar
an elder couple stare and pause
southern constellations colorfully shine
answering wishful dreams leading cause.

Palms are heard rustling in rhythm
understanding hearts clear as the sky
they dance with cavernous conviction
minds carefully cleansed, they cry.

In demanding lands far from here
another one breathes this same air
jointly forming tapestries of truth
simultaneously mending hearts with care.

Sipping exotic drinks alone in time
giving kind comfort to longing lips
Mother Earth wonders, when wind blows
will the world open its arms to feel this?

– © Leonceo V. Angsioco

Monday Meanderings: Everybody’s Free

Garfield Loves Mondays... or not

It’s Monday and for most people (like The Bangles) Mondays are just “one of those days.” The only other person aside for myself who doesn’t really despise Monday is my boy Schaefer. But then again playing poker for a living and traveling to look under every rock in the world like Schaefer, I wouldn’t imagine really hating any day. I’m not as fortunate as my dude, but I generally don’t dislike Monday more than any other weekday.

I look at Mondays like this; for most, Monday is the start of the the week. Monday is a day for a fresh seven day stretch. Instead of wasting the day moping about it, how about get ahead of the billions of others who just limp around? For you Weekend Warriors raising glasses together, Monday isn’t an end to the weekend, it simply means one more day closer to another one. True Tuesdays and Thursdays may be the hottest days of the week, I’m just sayin to not be like Garfield and give Monday’s a chance.

This whole Monday business came up for a few reasons. The obvious, it’s Monday. The not so obvious. I was flipping through my iPod and my ears fell upon Baz Luhrmann’s single “Everybody’s Free (To Wear Sunscreen).” Seeing how most people reading this blog are my friends, most of you have heard it before (it’s the kind of company I keep). I won’t post all of the words, but I will post the video.

Since some of you are suffering from the Monday Blues, give this a listen. I actually listen to this from time to time on the six other days of the week, it’s a good motivation speech and only seems to get better with age. Also a quick tidbit of information (I try to drop knowledge every now and again), this was not written as a graduation speech nor originally by Baz Luhrmann.

The song is actually inspired from Mary Schmich’s “Advice, Like Youth, Probably Just Wasted on the Young” 1997 column in the Chicago Tribune. (The words to the song can be found there). The column was actually described as a commencement address if Schmich were asked to give one. My favorite part of the column/song:

Don’t feel guilty if you don’t know what you want to do with your life. The most interesting people I know didn’t know at 22 what they wanted to do with their lives. Some of the most interesting 40-year-olds I know still don’t.