The Whole Ball Of Wax

(Let the cat out of the bag.)

by Joanna Quinto

The sky is too huge a misery,

With wind that blows a weed –--

Wipes off at its soft strength.  

And with a sturdy rain that may take away a trace at the moment –--

May very well leave one cold for long.

But to this, We put a dot.  

Through his deathless ocean of patience, 

The train of gears is re-tracked.  

Signboard announces for service –--

To shoot the moon, 

The stars, 

And the whole ball of wax.

Tatlong Pulang Tableta + 1 Pampalakas-Katawan

by Joanna Quinto

Anim na buwan akong maghihintay hanggang

 sa ika'y tuluyang lumisan sa aking sistemang nangangayayat. Lima

ng buwan na lamang mula ngayon, ako'y magbabalik-sigla. Tayo'y magkikita sa mundo ng mga naglalakad-na-ulo-hanggang-paa-kaputia'y-kumikinang-sa-

halimuyak. Ikaw at ako. Tayo'y lilipad na!

Chameleon

As inspired by a friend.

by Joanna Quinto

In a mankind of cautious change

An affection of Cupid’s first great revelation

Moulds a high level animal incarnate

To tailor, to adapt, and suit intimacy

In greenness of ability,

Speak an apparent emotion of inaudible voice

An utterance perplexed as nothing but fabrication

Owing to the silent truth of a clear sight of love

In brownness of a soldier, emerge a jealousy,

As a soul sees a fortunate Yin triumph over a weakling

Sooth, did nothing of a pioneer’s task

Yet witnessed gleeful eyes in ruptures

In blueness of a for granted –nut and an investigated under wraps,

Release briny water out of the system

Vamoose from a fantasy

Flew away fast from a heart-felt affair

In yellowness of an inner being,

A coward sets free a one-and-only significant child

Thrown in jail of perpetuity, the captured chameleon

In a choice laid down, adapts to a bloody heart’s redness.

Suit

(The puzzled lingers, then escapes.)

by Joanna Quinto

The Queen is forlorn in months of stagnance, in line for the King and the 'A', to finally consider her a fully-fledged professional. T'was February when the coming up of sun was noticeable and so is the setting of it, the King finally came. Months of cloud nine revived a dead soul. Then, a regenerated figure -- burried down deep, forgotten and erased, returns and begins touching one suit, the heart. Now, the Queen's heart is between a four-leaf clover and a spade for a clay soil. The Queen is perplexed, utters, "Where must the King be? What about Jack?"

The Queen planned a matrimony in North America with the King. After which, she went to South, and discovers that Jack also desires for the same thing.

The answer to Queen's own inquiry is indistinct.

Not a soul knows the triangle, but a piece of shining diamond.

A lady woke up today and asked herself, "Am I a Queen?" 

An alter ego replied, "Well, it's up to you to linger or to escape."