Jeepney – a villanelle


Oh to ride a jeepney is quite fun
We can go from place to place pretty fast
Depends on the traffic and we’re done

Things to do, busy me, got to run
The driver’s radio is always in full blast
Oh to ride a jeepney is quite fun

Many passengers including a baby and nun
Listening to radio for its daily forecast
Depends on the traffic and we’re done

I’m going to the market for some bargain
Interesting street scenes as we passed
Oh to ride a jeepney is quite fun

Thinking of what to buy, eggs and bacon
Saving some money by buying things that last
Depends on the traffic and we’re done

I just remembered I need to buy a cauldron
To make paella for a family that’s vast
Oh to ride a jeepney is quite fun
Depends on the traffic and we’re done

For: MTB–How to Write a Villanelle by frankhubeny in Meeting the Bar: Critique and Craft


Wrap it in Ribbons Please!


she wakes up late to face the world
on this nifty day, her clock is ticking
her bare feet flew merrily as she whirled
it’s going to be a great day, she sings with zing
in spite of all that beauty may disown
takes a shower, has a cherry for breakfast
someone rings, her voice skips on the phone
and pauses like a pencil, puts it down calmest
decides what dress, hat and shoes to wear
everything in her own pace and sequence
sits down and inserts a pin in her hair
and waits for some sort of suspense
outside she hears a knock on the door
the postman delivers letters and a white parcel
what can it be and who sends it, she’s unsure
and on this special day, too, she’s as baffle
a 24 carat gold chain from him
he remembered, she thought
large tears in her eyes brimmed
they shouldn’t have fought

For: Wrap it in Ribbons Please! by lillian in Poetics


Haibun Monday #38, Kintsugi: The Art of Broken Pieces


“I’ve always loved you, from the day we said hello, to now and to the future,” those were his words and I believed them. Days, months and years have passed. We carried on despite the difficulties and our circumstances. Until the wind changed. He broke his promises, he broke my trust and confidence and shattered my heart into pieces. The pain was unbearable and everything was black. But time is a great healer. I’ve learned my lessons and accepted the situation. I’m mending well, slowly. I realise that I’m the only one who could help myself and I have to move on. The world is beautiful and the future is bright.

After the darkness
Dawn always comes and brings hope
A new beginning

(c) ladyleemanila 2017

For: Haibun Monday #38, Kintsugi: The Art of Broken Pieces by Grace, Photo Challenge #167


Thursday photo prompt: Derelict #writephoto


PHOTO PROMPT © J Hardy Carroll

The tendency of an old house to collapse
Out of warren of walls, roofs and alleys
Tough seeing the neighbourhood with all scraps
Like crushing a vertebra when one sneezes
Uncanny way of a strand as it snaps
Can still catch some of its derelict beauties
Life is not exactly a barrel of laughs
To make reforms, we need money and graphs*

(c) ladyleemanila 2017

* Ottava rima is an old Italian form consisting of multiple stanzas each of eight lines using iambic meter and having the rhyme pattern abababcc.


For: Thursday photo prompt: Derelict #writephoto, Form for All–Ottava Rima by frankhubeny, Wordle #156, 26 May 2017 Friday Fictioneers

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Remember this one lovely, lonely soul?

Photo By William Stitt

THIS WEEK’S WORDS come from “People Like Us” by Robert Bly: confused, insomniac, wrong, dial, remember, lonely, soul, college, cleanses, thief, defender, hear

Remember this one lovely, lonely soul?
We used to be in college together
Still confused about things as she stroll
She dialled his number, there was no answer
“What’s wrong with me?” herself she can’t console
Just to hear his voice even if he errs
Couldn’t sleep, becoming an insomniac
Like a thief in the night, she wants him back

The trees around cleanse her mind, made her calm
She knows she herself is her defender
Be unruffled like a reader of a psalm
And in her life, she is the sole author
For brighter future she has no qualm*

(c) ladyleemanila 2017

* A Ottava Rima is a poem written in 8-line octives. Each line is of a 10 or 11 syllable count in the following rhyme:

one octive poem. abababcc
two octive poem. abababcc, dededeff
three octive poem. abababcc, dededeff, ghghghii

For: 100 Word Wednesday – Week 19, Whirligig 112 by Magical Mystical Teacher , OpenLinkNight #196 by Grace

Sunday's Whirligig logo 409415_233327223421682_1688724481_n