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Showing posts from April, 2012

Air, Hope, Love and Magdala

Sad breath of April, and hot noon, when at 3 PM, a cross stands in Golgotha


Whipped and lashed scars bleed, there is flesh and skin

Now here today, what has changed?

When you still mo ck and strut your wicked wicked ways

I saw they were too proud to do the parade, they thought was mardi gras – and so before the holy Wednesday – the party and blast of dancing in the streets

Across time, waved leaves on air – the breath of noon still hot and waiting

So incomplete and insincere – like the dust on my forehead

Not solemn and free – unlike the kites

The highways are empty and gleaming hot, april heat blows air

Until Sunday – at dawn in babys crying I awake leaping in joy

Going to the tomb –

The altar is a tomb where all the deads rise and pray here

Moments of solitude all creatures work until eternity

He is risen. And so Like Magdala – I anointed perfume

Feet, thighs,loins, body, his face and hair

They’re cold but the daze in his eyes gets warm in my heart

The air has changed – it is foggy…

The Mystery of Moths

What is it with moths, insects and flies?

Why in their minute bodies or heads, they threaten humans?

Why in their strangeness, they symbolize wrath, fun, seasons, danger or calm?

I'm fond of fireflies. When I was younger I thought they were sent by fairies from deep dark forests. I asked my grandfather (father of my Dad) when we crossed thick forests in the night, "Are there really fairies in the forest?"

And he answered, "Yes."

I was into it. I adored his stories, even those horses with human heads. Up the sky, we looked, and it was so beautiful! Truly, the sky in blue was vast, the stars brightly smiled to us, and to all those who looked above.

I was not afraid of the forest then. I was thinking, if we didn't find the way out, we would reverse our shirts to find the way out. My grandfather laughed. He was so brave, a real man! Like an Indian chief he can roar with command, and those who would see him would bow with respect.

There were clusters of fireflies in…

The Scent of Salvation

Perfumed his feet, mint cherry bits









Billowed musk, deep ocean fleet





















White linen pillows of his hair









Earth’s smoke and fire sun, oh, so rare





















Nailed hands to life, air goes to flee









Sweet grace and mercy to earth be





















Needs and wants, they’re satisfied









Complete in 14 stations by





















The garden throbs with joy, anew









Rose petal, leaves and honey dew





















Bouquet of rainbow, jelly melts









In Eucharist, gold blossoms felt.













































Virgin falls, stream of wine, so clear,









White wafer bread, a dearly gear





















Light bubbly fogs of wood, a whiff









Spiking fountain, a sacred cliff





















Angel’s touch turns flowers, hope.









“John Paul, we pray,” pleads dearest Pope.





















You and me, together free,









All nations free! God’s Kingdom be!





















Together, we, breathe scent; and smell









In God’s blue cross, the flames will tell





















Holy workers and priests be sent









Saint Hannibal, “Rogate” tent!





















Flash heaven rays, the halo roofs









Clouds on floors, assembled loops





















Rows of Saints are gathered now -









Salvation scent, true love, a vow

































Cool fragrant dawn and mi…

Faceless

Faceless




I breathe you



Day and night I long to touch your hand

and see the shade of your hands. How

those hands would turn red while I feel

every finger and thumb locked into mine;

If only your hands…



The sky has took you in – faceless as I am

I wonder how you’d shave the beard in your jaw,

how you’d trim the mustache close to your lips,

how you’d smell the fragrance of my neck,

how your eyes like agates would look at me now.



I crave your lips, your tongue, the air of your mouth.

I wish they would touch, riotous, if sea and sky

They merge in space with swift glory,

after the tombs fall.





My grief is solemn as white water

because you are everything to me

Seething flesh, handsome imagination

Different rocks and hues



How would you take me then -

if my times were chips that crashed?

if my bliss were only shadows and clouds?

if I were faceless?



I have longed for you as I have promised

waiting in seconds, hours, and years…

Every day, I’ve pleaded

and that is all I can be -

faceless like…

Rockets: Up And Away

The rockets will zoom tomorrow.

Up the universe, across the air we

breathe. It will fly – like a bullet



in space, tomorrow. Launch now

science or nuclear warhead? Glints

unquestionable gamma radiation.



Six-party talks. No sail, no fishing-zone,

no fly-zone “sa Pilipinas.” “Panginoon,

have mercy on us, have mercy.”



North Korea will launch a satellite.

UFO exploration, huge ET power?

Busy earth is alive, kicking 14 billion years!



Says Bishop Bastes “Pray! In

The Skylab, nothing happened.”

Says Mrs. Kim: “Pray, the best we

could do is pray!”



Empty airports tomorrow…

Space frozen dull. Clouds fiery red.

How to pray, be all, teaching each other.



A spectrum of stars will catch

Hunt inside a cloud net of blaze

Debris, shut off in Holy breath.



rosalinda flores martinez
4.12.2012

Our Lord of the Resurrection: Happy Easter to Everyone!

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Good Friday: A Story in Photos (2.2) /RoseVoc2

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Good Friday: A Story In Photos (1.2) /RoseVoc2

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Good Friday

It rained down on me - everything including the ruins of my past. Because today is good Friday for me and a marked day to be acquainted with cancer cells of different people (in the clinic, bringing a cancer patient) know them so well, had them treated right to stop their mutations.




Here's the burst of simple things that annoy - steal time, freeze brains, and nail feet to destinations you wouldn't wish for. Teardrops couldn't even fall.



It's just like Good Friday. Good Friday comes triumphant in Easter. Yet the day itself offers a time of keeping close with conscience. It makes us a little kinder and generous. Yes, the wrath of the cross is salvation to mankind. I wanted to carry my shadows so it wouldn't follow me. Coming across these routine, I have the same monologues with that of a bored housewife, and a caretaker.



I have my own strong world like chains of mountains that GOD planted. I made sure its temples wouldn't fall, its walls wouldn't crack. I l…