{"id":215,"date":"2011-05-19T10:16:02","date_gmt":"2011-05-19T10:16:02","guid":{"rendered":"http:\/\/mtls.ca\/issue9\/?page_id=215"},"modified":"2012-02-06T04:01:51","modified_gmt":"2012-02-06T04:01:51","slug":"percival-marcaida","status":"publish","type":"page","link":"https:\/\/mtls.ca\/issue9\/writings\/poetry\/percival-marcaida\/","title":{"rendered":"Percival Marcaida"},"content":{"rendered":"

If Poetry\u2026<\/strong><\/h1>\n

If Poetry had a face,<\/p>\n

She would have green eyes,<\/p>\n

To see beauty in everything,<\/p>\n

Everyone: great and small.<\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

If Poetry had locks of hair,<\/p>\n

It would be something like auburn<\/p>\n

Curled as if made of nature\u2019s fiddled wood<\/p>\n

Yet as soft as a wind\u2019s whisper.<\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

If Poetry had skin,<\/p>\n

It would be tender and warm<\/p>\n

To touch, yet strong enough<\/p>\n

To not yield to bigotry\u2019s pain.<\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

If Poetry had a body,<\/p>\n

It would be graceful<\/p>\n

In its movements<\/p>\n

Even when it falls.<\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

If Poetry was a person,<\/p>\n

It would be a young lady<\/p>\n

In love with someone<\/p>\n

She\u2019ll never know.<\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

Like a Butterfly<\/strong><\/h1>\n

My eyes like a butterfly \u2013<\/p>\n

Will they get caught in your beautiful web?<\/p>\n

The delicate patterns of your imperfect face,<\/p>\n

I seem to remember only the tenderness<\/p>\n

Of your freckled nape.<\/p>\n

I wonder if your ears could swallow my words<\/p>\n

And bury them deep in the pit of your heart\u2019s mind.<\/p>\n

For you did not say why you left me.<\/p>\n

So I can only assume, guess at best<\/p>\n

That you heard me whisper to leave<\/p>\n

And see if I will follow,<\/p>\n

Or meet you again by chance<\/p>\n

Like a poetic prophecy of lost lovers\u2019 fate.<\/p>\n

But then, I decided to not follow<\/p>\n

And rather wait to see if you would<\/p>\n

Weaken into someone else\u2019s arms.<\/p>\n

Alas, how cruel instincts can be<\/p>\n

To witness not how a doubting heart<\/p>\n

Falls from a lovely flight<\/p>\n

Into the begging hands of poverty.<\/p>\n

I was caught in your beautiful web,<\/p>\n

And never knew the pathetic venom within<\/p>\n

Were planted by your doubting words.<\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

Sad Heart<\/strong><\/h1>\n

Sad heart<\/p>\n

Heavy with a thought,<\/p>\n

A thought you did not want to convey<\/p>\n

And yet tears, they flowed<\/p>\n

When I asked you yesterday.<\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

Sad heart<\/p>\n

Weighed down with a thought,<\/p>\n

A thought you seemed to almost say.<\/p>\n

And yet tears, they flowed<\/p>\n

Again, not that I asked you today.<\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

O my sad heart,<\/p>\n

I am not so cold or without thought,<\/p>\n

Why\u2026 why\u2026 did you not say?<\/p>\n

And yet tears, they flowed<\/p>\n

One last time as you walked away.<\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

Your Lingering Kiss<\/strong><\/h1>\n

our lingering kiss<\/p>\n

is a memory<\/p>\n

like that night we met<\/p>\n

not knowing<\/p>\n

if we\u2019ll ever see<\/p>\n

each other again<\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

our tongues touching<\/p>\n

you taste<\/p>\n

like bubble gum<\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

we suck each others breathe<\/p>\n

you taste<\/p>\n

like spearmint & nicotine<\/p>\n

fading as you gasp<\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

our tongues touching<\/p>\n

you taste<\/p>\n

like love<\/p>\n

if love was ever tasted<\/p>\n

instead of wasted<\/p>\n

in an hour or two<\/p>\n

 <\/p>\n

our tongues touching<\/p>\n

you taste<\/p>\n

my lips as i taste yours<\/p>\n

opening my eyes<\/p>\n

to see yours closed<\/p>\n

knowing as i held you<\/p>\n

time will part us<\/p>\n

perhaps forever<\/p>\n

so i closed my eyes with you<\/p>\n

sucking your warm breathe<\/p>\n

the bravery and joy<\/p>\n

you gave to me<\/p>\n

will linger like your kiss<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"

If Poetry\u2026 If Poetry had a face, She would have green eyes, To see beauty in everything, Everyone: great and small.   If Poetry had locks of hair, It would be something like auburn Curled as if made of nature\u2019s fiddled wood Yet as soft as a wind\u2019s whisper.   If Poetry had skin, It […]<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":4,"featured_media":0,"parent":203,"menu_order":0,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"closed","template":"authorpoetry.php","meta":{"ngg_post_thumbnail":0,"footnotes":""},"class_list":["post-215","page","type-page","status-publish","hentry"],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/mtls.ca\/issue9\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/pages\/215","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/mtls.ca\/issue9\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/pages"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/mtls.ca\/issue9\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/types\/page"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/mtls.ca\/issue9\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/users\/4"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/mtls.ca\/issue9\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/comments?post=215"}],"version-history":[{"count":1,"href":"https:\/\/mtls.ca\/issue9\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/pages\/215\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":946,"href":"https:\/\/mtls.ca\/issue9\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/pages\/215\/revisions\/946"}],"up":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/mtls.ca\/issue9\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/pages\/203"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/mtls.ca\/issue9\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=215"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}