ALL POEMS OF ROBERT C. UY

Poetry Series
Robert C. Uy
- poems -
2
Robert C. Uy (25th of December)
Robert works as an ATM specialist, and writes poems during his free time. He
presently resides in Manila with his wife, Gina.
3
(a riddle)
along these harmonies of words
devoid of any reason,
lie an enigma here
contained within this poem of Passion.
attempt, you might, you’ll never find;
eyes alone cannot see.
if all could search inside my heart,
if only, then perceive
educated minds alone
best read what’s hidden, simply,
—Love, I said, would solve this riddle.
(fifth letter of each line spells out my beloved's full name)
Robert C. Uy
4
A Child Discovers Poetry
The moment the eyes touched Beauty,
So lively, so colorful
—The first of such witness—
Admiration was birthed in the Mind
And was spawned in the soul;
Yet the mind had no voice,
Such that when Beauty sprouted words
The mind became mute no more.
Robert C. Uy
5
A Memory Sat In The Corner And Wept
A memory sat in the corner of my mind
And silently wept
For the moment it feared has arrived,
The dreaded moment when
It finally aged, pointless and hollow,
A fabric of mind worn-out and yellowed;
And in so doing exhausting the thrill,
Those old anticipations and pleasures lived
When revisiting.
Tomorrow the final, lonely walk shall dawn,
Inevitable, towards oblivion,
Towards where the memory shall expire
As silently as it now cries;
Where all its traces will disappear
Even in brief waking-hour dreams.
Robert C. Uy
6
A Mother's Advice to Her Daughter, The Bride-To-Be
When does forever become an option?
Only when one can still find
Inspiration for living
Despite the stale smell of saliva
From the person across the bed.
Consider it better
To regret walking away
Than having stayed with much regret.
So should today the fading footsteps
With the banging door
—the sounds of an almost wedding—
Be a reason for sleepless tear-fests,
Tomorrow it can be a cause for appreciation
Or gratitude for thinking twice.
For it matters not how the heart aches now
For affection
Or lust;
In the end what matters is how
The small talk before bedtime
—regardless of redundancy—
Will always be interesting
Time after time after time.
Robert C. Uy
7
A Prayer
I am no poet;
I just mimic one and pretend
That I could make a ballroom
of words dance
And entertain an audience.
But my choreography earns no
applause
Because there is nothing special
about it at all.
Boasting of this ability
is but
An exercise in futility.
But You,
You are the Creator of Words;
You are the farmer and I am
the soil
On which You patiently toil.
And all these verses
That come out of me
Will not be if not for Your seed.
So from now on,
Though un-special they may be,
Every finished poem,
These ballroom of words,
Shall be dancing in praise of
You.
Robert C. Uy
8
A Slice Of Life
When Ego, with his narcisstic sense,
Wants to be held high in regard,
He uses brickstones of Self-confidence
To build himself a tall pedestal
—that others may see
there on top he’d be.
But the pedestal totters precariously
So to Ego’s help comes Humility,
Who wedges Retribution in to aid
The equilibrium, instead it breaks
—hence, Ego comes down
crashing to the ground.
Humility dashes quickly to the side
Of Ego, so badly bruised and battered,
And makes him drink the draught of Pride,
Which, though prickly, must be swallowed
—draught that kills pain,
kills the drinker all the same.
Robert C. Uy
9
Aborted
Contained in what’s so fragile, could break,
And soaked to preserve its state.
But why prevent its being defaced?
It was wanted dead, in the first place.
Defenseless, it was so deprived
The right to choose, to live, to die;
Borne, by fate, by whose heart was stone,
And dead before it was born.
Robert C. Uy
10
Appreciation From A Distance
I am, to her, today,
The present.
And I wish to be her lifetime.
But I have no chance of being
her future
If I cannot out-do her past.
But she, being human,
Only has one heart;
One she has already given
to someone else.
But I have said my prayers,
And I pray not that I be
the one
she spends a lifetime with,
But just her to be the happiest,
Whoever she ends with.
Robert C. Uy
11
Attempts at Haiku
How she devours fare
And still look fairly pretty
Is beyond me.
---
Her exotic eyes,
Like clear December skies,
Can melt hearts of ice.
Robert C. Uy
12
Closure
Where once I could only taste
Sweet as sweetness should be,
Now there is only but
A sense of hostility
Towards me.
Perhaps you should but could not;
I say, “please, ” but you would not
Say goodbye.
Now you say it is not over
And that I should wait;
So I do so,
But is it in vain?
Like in slow motion,
Falling in mid-air,
Faster and faster;
Till the ground meets me
And my body shatters and breaks.
It’s been so long since I last saw you,
My heart is now cramping in ache;
But the ground has not yet met me,
So as you say so,
Here I lie and wait.
I miss you,
And shall keep missing you,
Till the time comes
When I will miss
Missing you.
Robert C. Uy
13
Condescend
A stranger, somewhere, there exists,
Someone I can never be;
A thief who'd pilfer what I
Treasure most so easily.
For little difference I have made
To both what's me and mine,
I was a witness many a-times
To easily-said goodbyes.
But God has taught, if Love be pure
'Tis not about one's self,
Instead what for the beloved one
Will truly be best.
Hence, even at my own expense,
I'd rather she be happy
Even if her happiness' source
Will not be me.
Robert C. Uy
14
Dead Drunk
He consumes in entirety
That which entirely consumes him
And the spirit of whose neck he has
In his hand in turn possesses him.
When the hour’s hand points
A certain direction then home beckons
Hence it seems not lost
The sense of place and time
Yet when he opens his eyes
Comes the age-old question:
“Where am I? ”
Robert C. Uy
15
Dead of the Night
This very night for him is the friendliest
For shadowy darkness is at its most potent,
With no sound apart from that of total silence
And the air is thick with the sense of suspense.
Within his own dwelling he walks in the dark,
His every step hushed in stealthily walk
To evade obscure shadows that lies all about
In a gloom that’s as black as the purpose he’s bound.
—Steel toes that go, “Click, clack, ”
Is the Grim Reaper’s in the dark.
Upon each flight of stairs are the same cautious steps,
A predator sly on a hunting tread;
Grim masks the face that is fraught of emotions,
Though only held back by his serious intention.
The clandestine footfalls stop by the door
Of the Master’s chamber, to see therein lies in store
What he expected: the wife sleeping on the bed
And a person that comes twilight soon shall be dead.
—the hammer pulled back, “Click, clack, ”
Is the knell of death in the dark.
The night, of a sudden, does not want to be friendly,
The shadowy darkness can only be deadly,
With thunders that ripped straight through the silence
And his sanity shattered in a second of weakness.
Within his own chamber, he sits in the dark,
Staring at two corpses whose last stare was blank;
With deliberate gentleness his last act was subtle,
He closed his eyes and bit on the barrel.
Robert C. Uy
16
Dilemma
Why do I torture myself with illusions
that she will be mine someday?
Though my wants are not always
what’s right,
Still she fulfills my dreams.
And desires.
For she has ways of making me happy
Without her even trying to;
Or is it all a test of faith?
Fate always right wrongs using pain.
Me?
I welcome the wrong things
and the broken heart.
In the end, she will always be
a special part of me.
And she doesn’t even know it.
Robert C. Uy
17
Disgruntled Grunt
He comes to work in no such haste,
And wishes he’s some other place;
“Oh, I believe, ” he always say,
“I’m overworked and underpaid! ”
Yet for every day that Heaven made,
Still he shows up just the same.
After all, he needs the pay;
The wife must eat, anyway.
Much full of regret and reproach,
He criticizes even the mote
Of white dust on his worktable;
He denounces his superior,
And condemns the mistake-prone idiot
At the next table; he cannot
Wait for the hour’s hand to strike five,
To conjure a new-fangled lie
—For when his wife asks, “Where you been? ”—
And end the day with bitter beer.
Robert C. Uy
18
Emile
When he came into the world,
The child that came too soon,
He had nothing but his innocence
And was blameless and so true.
But he never felt the warmth’s
Supposed to nurture someone
Of as young an age;
That was life to him,
Sad as it may seem.
Pain tattooed on his skin
Designed as bruise and scars,
Too harsh a punishment for acting
Like the child he was;
And to think it’s only been
Just four years that he lived
Within the world he knew,
He had to end it all,
He had to leave so soon.
Oh, father and mother dear,
He’ll never understand
Each searing heat stubbed in his skin
Or each cracking leather slap.
Yes, he had to cry a tear
To soothe the pain all through,
Like a fading candle’s wicker
Slowly burnt out into soot.
Now I say to you, my child,
May Peace now be with you.
Robert C. Uy
19
Epitaph
Every one that has come
and gone in my life
are just passing acquaintances,
for I am sure to have made
the same number of enemies
as much as I’ve made friends.
I’ve not so much as touched
the lives of those I’ve loved
—my greatest regret is this.
So should, by chance, today
I pass away,
Sadly, I will not be missed.
Robert C. Uy
20
Faith
“I will, ” said my friend, “challenge your faith! ”
So I looked to the stars for proof.
“No, no, no, that can’t be, ” said my friend.
“For those were evolved, not created
From supernovas, and black-holes, and big-bangs;
Science has explained so! ”
Then I looked at people passing by as proof.
“No, no, no, that can’t be, ” said my friend.
“For those were evolved, not created.
For the need to survive, man acquired intelligence;
For the need to travel fast, man developed limbs.
Science has said so! ”
“No, no, no, that can’t be, ” said I,
“For if man had evolved,
If for the need to travel fast
We would not have had planes
(Which are, by the way, created, not evolved):
Instead, we’d have had wings! ”
Robert C. Uy
21
For Gina
In the beginning, we were acquaintances;
not so close as to be
good, but precious enough to cherish,
to not lose. But Eros, he
had other plans, and stirred my
heart to desire beyond what was.
I searched for reasons to not
fall in love with her, but
saw only reasons why I should.
Time aged and so did the
realization of how daunting ‘twas the
absence of her presence, for she
is as integral to my life
as how only the sunrise can
give purpose to the sunset’s existence.
How logical is it to desire
tomorrow to commence at the most
conceivable soonest now that I happen
upon her, the lady I fancy
to spend my tomorrows with?
Robert C. Uy
22
From A Sleepless Night
...and I begin these thoughts
Again.
My mind’s a haunted place,
Inhabited with ghosts;
Phantoms that I,
Myself,
Conjured then be scared of.
Insecurity’s a beast
That eats me like so much meat,
While I waste away
From sickly lack of sleep;
And this beast I feed
And nurse with fear
That I never
Ever
Measure up.
Then I begin these thoughts
Again...
Robert C. Uy
23
Her Smile Was Like The Dawn
Her smile was like the dawning sun
Illuminating colors in my life;
Yet comes dusk she'll be reduced
Into a figment of my mind.
The joy brought by the thought of her
Is the woe of my emptiness.
Robert C. Uy
24
Heredity
When I was a child, all the neighbors said,
“He looks exactly like his father! ”
While back at home, said all my kin
“He looks exactly like his mother! ”
Then came the age I went to school
Teachers commented in perfect scroll
And wrote back then, “All things considered,
He is, in many ways, his sister! ”
So to home I scurried and found a mirror
To know which one was true, and what a wonder
And curious! Yet surprised I should not be
To find my father, mother, sister, all three—
—staring back at me.
Robert C. Uy
25
Hide Behind Me, My Heart, And Be Unknown
Hide behind me, my heart, and be unknown
As you were never fated to be shown
To a world which is to reality bound
And loves imaginary were, as a rule, disallowed.
For where in history, even now, can one find
A time whence two beings were in love bind,
One esteemed divine whilst the other insignificant;
Prejudice in such sentiments have always been adamant
That love should forever be in reveries concealed
When half of a life is meant to be unfulfilled.
So hide behind me, my heart, and remain obscure,
And die sick of the longing for which there is no cure.
Robert C. Uy
26
Hopeless
What you are to me,
What you mean,
If you could see you through my eyes,
Comprehension would come clear.
All those times we were together,
Every single second
And every little detail,
I remember.
When you cried streams of tears,
Or was too drunk to stand still,
I couldn’t find the resolve
To walk away.
For your company,
Even if you do not speak
—the sparkle in your eyes,
or the slight smile upon your lips—
that already is happiness.
Death need not come to find Heaven,
Because Heaven is you.
And you must have found Heaven, too,
In that person that you loved.
If you could see you through my eyes
Each time you speak of him
—the sparkle in your eyes
and the slight smile upon your lips—
You define happiness.
How he took care of you,
And loved you,
And how he managed to make you smile
Even at the darkest of your times;
Every single second
And every little detail
That made you love him so much.
Oh, what I'd give to be him!
Perhaps ‘tis time to find the resolve
to walk away,
And rejoice in the knowledge
That once in my life
I found Heaven
—in the sparkle in your eyes
and the slight smile upon your lips—
Every single second
And every little detail,
I will take the memories with me to the end.
Robert C. Uy
27
Hyo-Joo
She rose a star from Northern skies
That, with those exotic, Asian eyes
And a smile the sweetest that enchants,
Exudes heavenly radiance.
(A star with sparkle unparalleled
In Brilliant Legacy was revealed)
The smallish face, the shaded hair,
The small, thin lips and gentle air,
Her every attribute so divinely arrayed
That attractions of men at her mercy is swayed;
And in same ways has she bewitched
This heart without resist.
(Foolish it seems to romanticize and pray
That if reincarnation is true, Fate may
Consider that I, in a subsequent life,
Be the one in her heart then shining there bright.)
Robert C. Uy
28
I Lost
I lost my first thought in the morning
I lost my prayer in the night
I lost the only joy of living
I lost the direction of my life
I lost what eased troubles of the day
I lost what gave weekends most pleasure
I lost what is constant in yesterdays
I lost what was to be the future
I lost confidence in my ways
I lost the swagger in my walk
I lost what parts all colors from gray
I lost whom I loved most
I lost you.
Robert C. Uy
29
Immortality
The infinity of time
Is still irrevocably established
With irreversible successions;
The extremities of which,
In its vast expanse of continuum,
Are yet to be discovered nor explained
By geniuses and their mathematical equations.
And man,
With his tenacious addiction for answers,
Still wishes to resolve this enigma
With intentions of abating the cessation
Of the pulsation of the heart,
Of the respiring of air,
And the cerebration of the mind.
But sometimes, blinded by over-enthusiasm,
Man fails to see that
What cannot, in cherry or mahogany, be confined
Are deeds and companionship in memories bound;
Which, in fact, despite inherent biodegradability,
Become man's means to immortality.
Robert C. Uy
30
In Search Of Miracles
Perceive with your eyes this world
That its true colors may be bared
‘Tis sullen gray with dust and dirt
While in some corners, crimson stained.
Or read it in periodicals
Stamped in black and white:
Competition begets factions
Begets hate, begets strife
Begets famine, begets infirmities,
Begets scarcity for the human race
All these and more are complexities we face
And ‘tis only the front page.
Whilst faced with dearth do we recall
The sudden tendency to pray
A prayer wishing for mere miracles
That from privation we may be spared.
And what kind, oh, one might ask,
Of miracle do you ask of?
The kind which cleanse the skin of lepers
Or make the cripple walk?
Are we, in truth, in search of miracles,
Or is magic we want?
Robert C. Uy
31
Joy I Felt At Knowing Her
Joy I felt at knowing her
Despair came along with love
Tomorrows shall be naught of her,
And with it, grief.
How come I want none of the liberation
Letting go brings?
Robert C. Uy
32
Just Another Love Poem
I bet you’ve read love poems before
And this one is no different
Yet in some ways, you’ll see, it is.
Pull up a chair and listen.
A hundred times I’ve thought about
How I might let you know
How much I love you, lady fair,
And tell the whole damn world.
“I love you because...”
Won’t please at all
And it does not bode well
For it is love that’s bound by reasons,
That much I can tell.
“I love you despite of...”
You may say,
Will never work at all;
Though, by time, there may come differences,
Logic states love sees no flaws
Let me present, then, love this simple,
Without because and despite of’s:
I love you, period, nothing follows,
And I do hope that’s enough.
Robert C. Uy
33
Love
It takes a collection of scars to create
A reminder tattooed with permanence
That love, in all its essence,
Is but a double-edged blade
That pins together two hearts
Such that they will never be apart
So sharp-edged, though, that it rips in time
Those it is supposed to bind.
Robert C. Uy
34
Loving in Sin?
I know a man who is in mourning
For cruel Fate has kept him pinned
Forever on the side of losing
When falling in love is living in sin.
The Bride is soon to wear her ring,
Her house already has a host;
Desire can not bring to a standstill
Yearning what’s forbidden most.
Someone will win, someone will lose;
Whose happy end the Bride will choose?
It matters not, it matters most;
Both endings ask a heavy cost.
Robert C. Uy
35
May Rains
Behold, across, the window scene,
The falling sky, a low, aging gray;
The pregnant clouds appear to burst,
Heavy with the rains of May.
Looking out the window
At the prelude to a storm,
A man awaits the torrent,
Hums a sullen dirge alone.
Growls of thunder, bolts of light,
Storm’s above, storm’s his mind,
Clouded with collaged memoirs
From sadder than sad times.
Robert C. Uy
36
My Thoughts Were Of...
My thoughts were of migrating birds
That nests these local shores
Foraging the marsh's best yet only till
The summer's dawn.
‘Twas love you nested on this heart
Until you had to leave.
Robert C. Uy
37
My Vice
Once I ran after a robber
Who snatched a lady’s purse,
Then after a few short strides
My lungs seemed to burst
—yet I kept on.
Then faced with a hundred steps
Upon a flight of stairs,
While I so laboriously trekked,
My chest burned and flared
—still I went on.
Walking now seems so deprived
Of what once was leisure,
With all these needles pricking inside
My heart has to endure
—but I carried on.
Then it was one rainy night,
My wife threatened to leave;
She said, “You made a chimney of our home,
and I can hardly breathe! ”
I am a man, but I can’t last
A life lived without her,
So I knelt down and made a pact
To both of us was fair;
As long as she won’t leave, I’d try
My very darndest best
To quit what she has hated most
And lay it down to rest
—and that was when I stopped
smoking cigarettes.
Robert C. Uy
38
Of Liars
The truth in this cannot be denied
—and it pays to know by heart—
a person capable of lies
is capable of all kinds of hurt.
Robert C. Uy
39
One October Morn
The presence of serenity lie
Naked by my side,
With hair like wildfire spread on the sheets
While she sleeps her dreamless sleep;
I watch her bosom swell and ebb
With each slow, languid breath.
And ever so lightly I trace a finger
Along her bare shoulder
—that smooth, porcelain feel.
How my enthralled heart stop still
What with beside me, I am sure,
The fairest amongst God’s creatures.
My spirit celebrates with delight
At having my Dream spend with me the night.
Robert C. Uy
40
One Thing I Am Certain Of
When years have etched deep carvings on our faces
And December morns are kind to us no more
Then our joints must have gone so brittle
That getting up from bed’s become a chore
Yes, we’ve seen many a days in our lifetime,
Now we have finally reached the night;
And tomorrow may bring what we can yet tell,
If we should at last bid fare the other well.
Nonetheless of one thing I am certain, I swear
That my love, like the ring that you on your finger wear,
Though it may now be weather-worn and dully yellowed,
T’would still and forever be made of gold.
Robert C. Uy
41
Orientation
Crowd the room with alien thoughts,
Maybe young, maybe not;
Shapeless they may be
Or shaped a tad too differently.
Then knead them, mold them, form them
Into an image all your own,
Until such time when many
Has finally become one.
Robert C. Uy
42
Paradox of Time
What was today’s begun
To look more like yesterday;
And tomorrow was much
Too early when it came.
But then tomorrow shows
More promise than today,
That same day which will soon
Transform into yesterday.
Robert C. Uy
43
Picture My Life
Picture my life
As the foot of a tree
In autumn,
Where golden leaves are
Faces that come and go,
Swept this way and that
As the wind of fate pleases.
And among the litter a stone;
The one thing immovable, constant.
That is you.
Robert C. Uy
44
Pleading
Is it right to doubt the veracity
Of how much she cares for me
When bidding me farewell
Comes to her so easily?
Is it some sort of preview
Of our parting's inevitability?
Tell me.
Robert C. Uy
45
Sentiment
The sense of beauty pervaded
In the moment when admiration
Became a flutter of the heart
And it transformed into words
That spoke of emotions
And honesty.
And from such kindness
Obliging acts are gained or given
Albeit unnecessarily,
Though most times it suffices
That admiration just like love
Seeks no affections returned.
Robert C. Uy
46
Sunset
The slow-falling sun shall soon kiss the sea,
Those two forlorn lovers to meet finally;
The sea blushes red from feeling the warmth
Emanating from within the sun’s hearth
Drawn always together, till distance not much,
Yet ever so cruelly forbidden to touch.
Horizon’s the stage to this tragic play:
Come and be introduced to this dying day.
Robert C. Uy
47
The Ballad of Jeremiah Macabenta
The King hosted a feast,
as it was his custom,
to once a year, feed the least
blessed in his kingdom.
So the ragged came in flocks
and in the courtyard gathered,
hushed in anticipation
of, finally, a warm supper.
All the King’s men guided
them, so it will be orderly
along dozen long tables
arranged conformingly.
The guests then sat, food was served,
each with equal servings;
a plate of veggies, a cut of meat,
rice and corn soup steaming.
Among those who supped was
Jeremiah Macabenta,
perhaps the most haughty glutton
of the millennia.
His infamy was that, amongst
vagrants, he could
eat in one meal what
normally three men took.
Though he was looked upon
as comically fat,
his life as a rat
was tragically sad.
—having no means of living
at that—
so to the King’s dinner, an
invitation, he got.
Back to the feast, after servings
were done,
Jeremiah called for one of
the servers to come;
He said, “Look at my plate,
of meat, it has none.
Only veggies, rice and soup! ”
So the server gave him one.
Just then a cat with fur
shiny and black
—which, according to myth, is
the cause of bad luck—
suddenly jumped onto an
eating lady’s lap,
who then shoo’ed it away;
to the table it leapt back.
Landing in chaos upon
48
Jeremiah’s place,
exposing two pieces of meat
he hid under his plate;
caught red-handed, he’d only
sheepishly grin,
while the King’s witnessed this,
much to his chagrin.
The King then ordered Jeremiah
banished from the tables,
of controlling his anger,
he was barely able;
shocked that this tramp would
abuse his charity,
when he most wanted to
treat his guests equally.
Now this is where it’s not
clearly distinguished
what truly transpired from
only just gossip;
for it was manifested that
Jeremiah was punished,
but the story that spread
was incredibly horrid.
It was said that Jeremiah
was chained to a rock
and into his mouth, food was
endlessly stuffed,
till he choked and gasped
and breathed his last air,
while bits and morsels trickled
down his nose and ear.
(And to confound the story
of Jeremiah’s end,
after the feast, he was never
heard from again.)
Perhaps the moral is this:
we should never take advantage
should the kindness that is
shared to us we acknowledge,
lest we fall into the pit
of Jeremiah’s plight
—in gluttony he lived,
in gluttony he died.
Robert C. Uy
49
The City's Wild
There, in a place, where air is sparse,
Smoke is thick, and light is scarce,
Scattered colors that flash and shock
Lend but little visibility in the dark.
The door up front the large man protects
Is where the last of conscience is left,
So what’s taken in are intentions lacked
Of morals; flesh is the absolute want.
With luscious lies, favors are gained,
And shows of affection realistically feigned
Through silken touch and tight embrace,
And minimal dresses of satin or lace.
Ladies and gentlemen both lose inhibitions,
Civility’s neglected with reckless abandon;
Sensual cravings are satisfied
When Love’s a commodity—
—that can be bought at a price.
Robert C. Uy
50
The Dance
Illumination comes only
From the far side of the room,
A faintest glint of yellow
Amidst the blackness and the gloom.
No thoughts or feelings left
Except anticipation so pure;
Let the music play—
Whist they stand now,
Dance, they shall, soon.
His touch on her, a delicate caress
Upon her skin;
Cradled, she is gently
Like a fragile figurine.
And as she lay her head across
his chest,
He held her close;
The circle closed by their embrace
Became, to them, the world.
The first of many notes play on,
A song from long ago,
A lullabye of broken promises
And bitter loss;
So soft, and yet it scratched the scabs
Of wounded memories
And flared the pain of hurts
She most not want to reminisce.
He raised her face, to his surprise,
Tears welled from her eyes;
The most sincere and honest gesture
In a place of feigns and lies.
Should he, could he comfort her
—no, she pushed away;
Mumbled an excuse, as if ashamed,
And left in haste.
A mystery of life, up to this day,
He can't digress,
How he found admiration
—attraction? —
In that moment of her weakness.
Is it compassion? Is it pity?
Is it love that's doomed to fail?
'Cause if it is, oh,
The consequences it entails.
It's closing time, last call for
Goodnight kiss before they part;
Tomorrow comes to sell love
To another's waiting arms.
51
So in a day or two, what's been today
Won't ever matter,
For when the music stops
Then the dance is truly over.
Robert C. Uy
52
The Lady At Dusk
It was on one dusk of summer while I
Sat then brooding on some wooden plank
And the air rippled with glitters golden raining down
From the Western sun
—which slowly, slowly bided time
To bid the day goodbye—
That I, that very moment, chanced upon
As I looked up from my stupor,
Far ahead from where I was, a stone's throw perhaps,
The fairest sight
—in an intricately delicate dance,
a lady on a prance.
She spun, and swayed, and twirled with grace,
She danced with naught a care
Of the world around and yet they trained on her their sights,
The world of men.
—And how was it on a lady's dance
Many a heart were much entranced?
'Tis strains a lot the mind discerning
Why at times the heart to great extents desire
The unattainable; which makes a stone's throw, to say the least
Become a million miles.
—in the dying light, one could only digest
The beauty and all good the lady
—the dance—
suggests.
Robert C. Uy
53
The Lover
The one who would be all:
Brother, friend, mother, preacher,
A listening ear
And a ready handkerchief,
Mefenamic acid,
Love.
Robert C. Uy
54
The Passer-by
An unfinished afternoon lies strewn across my desk
Along with an uneaten breakfast neglected by my left
While I tap-tap-tap my fingers absent-mindedly on the table-top
As I impatiently await for the time
When along comes my long-awaited passer-by
Now here she comes! Here she comes—
Like an Eastern sun rising through the darkened dawn;
She with gaiety a-light on those Oriental eyes
That further gleams with her every greeting and a smile.
Yet I—I could not meet those eyes
For fear that upon that good morning greeting
I would simply die and...
How many seconds passed, or moments did?
I finally to myself did ask,
For when I came to from that spell though fleeting
She was in front of me at last.
Her smile now mine, my gaze was hers
And my wandering mind left me to wonder
How close she was that I could reach for her hand
And it would be as much
Silkenly as I imagined her skin would be at my touch;
Or how exhilarated—enraptured—would I be should her heart
Be confined within the circle of my arms.
The world would be a place less lonely—alas,
If only reveries could last!
Now did I greet in kind, nor even spoke at all?
I finally to myself did ask
For when I came to from that spell though fleeting
She'd been a couple paces past
And there I was left standing, a fool with nothing
But the trailings of her scent
That flowery fragrance she adorns herself with
For a beloved must be meant.
Thus with such small tokens as smiles and scents
I keep myself contented
And feed my endless reveries
Imagining a time and place where her love
May at my mercy be
Though I wake from those daydreams empty
Disheartened by the dawning in my mind that desire
Is a thirst that in my throat dies
Each and every time.
Each and every time.
Yet by this time tomorrow I would still be by my desk
And an unfinished afternoon still strewn across as well
Never reckoning if ‘tis worth my while waiting,
Though I would still be waiting for the time
When along comes my long awaited passer-by.
55
Robert C. Uy
56
The Rose,
Of all creations, is
The epitome of beauty;
Red, pink or peach,
‘Twould still be as pretty.
But if petals be torn,
To you, would it still be
Looking as much beautiful
As it is to me?
Robert C. Uy
57
The Simplest Joy
A treasure more precious
Than gems or gold,
And paid for by most
At any price,
What rejoices the heart
A hundredfold:
To see on a loved one’s
Lips a smile.
Robert C. Uy
58
Thirty-three
How I act, how I think
Are years younger than me.
The constants of Life I have embraced,
And feared all spontaneity.
Defiant against maturity,
I have lived for the moment;
Though it scares me, at thirty-three,
I still don’t know where I am headed.
Robert C. Uy
59
Travelling At Night
I wish to see the summer green
Of rice and corn fields ripening,
While carabaos on grassed-patch graze
Beneath the sky’s blue shade.
But Night deprives of my desire
With crypt-dark, moonless skies;
She hides the plains in velvet drapes,
Not a blink of light in sight.
Nothingness slips swiftly past me,
That maddening sea of black,
While I gaze out the window blindly;
Of sceneries, this travel lacks.
Robert C. Uy
60
Two Portraits of Love
The flower and the soil
‘O, flower, if you’ll be
rooted to me firmly,
you’ll be standing proud;
I’ll not let you fall.
I’ll nourish and nurture you
till Father Time calls,
and wilt you and wither
into just a memory.
The nest and the nestling
‘O, little one, as long
as you’re in my care,
protect you, I will,
from the perils of life,
till it’s time to move on
and you learn to fly;
it’s enough for me that
I once was your shelter.
Robert C. Uy
61
Unconditional
To trust one’s word,
And that alone,
Is gambling entire riches;
For a thin line
Does separate
Having faith and foolishness.
To share one’s self,
Enough, not wholly,
Is a word for the wise;
Easily learned
But not heeded—
Having faith is being blind.
Robert C. Uy
62
Unemployed Mornings
The early sun burns through my window
Pointing its accusing rays on me
“Late! It is late! ” It seemed to say
Urging me awake from a slumber
That bears down a heavy load upon my shoulders
Such that I cannot rise from where I lay.
“Late! It is late! ” The sun seemed to say,
The heat annoying as it graze my skin.
Urging me awake, urging
Like a lady who’s kept waiting on date
A couple of hours too late.
What would I give for a couple more hours of sleep
While the rest of the world is frenzied;
The sound of hurried hooves outside scurry
To earn the right for a meal.
Me? The rest of my afternoon looms
Empty as vacuum.
Robert C. Uy
63
Unloved
One more sad word and a tear would roll,
One more sad story and the whole world,
Would collapse on its own weight upon the shoulder
Of one with neither sister nor brother;
Raised to stand strong, to stand alone,
—but never to live lonely.
Deserving of love and not any less
Yet loved lesser than those who deserved less;
Attending to the needs of whose attention is needed:
The orphan with parents.
Robert C. Uy
64
View of a Lady
A feast for the eyes
Or a lamb meant to slaughter,
Respected not with respect to
Mother, wife or daughter;
Regarded as criterion used
For measuring machismo,
Or a way to exhaust
A fleeting need for pleasure.
Robert C. Uy
65
When Things Are Not Meant To Be
What would have pumped life to a dulling heart
What could have been the realization of a dream,
What should have made better tomorrows than today,
Came a little too late, so it seems.
Give it a rest
And be contented.
For who’s to know what there is today
Amounts somewhat much lesser
When there is naught one righteous
To judge which is better,
And in thus may regret be unhanded, set free
When things are not meant to be.
Robert C. Uy__