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Tita Halaman Sep 2021
all the way, I’m trying
anyway, I’m used to dying
and rising back up like a phoenix
a vivider fervid flashing hues
In win or die trying, I’ll never lose
A dancer in the storm, an artist in the rain
It’s all in the mind, a cheat to this game
Tita Halaman Sep 2021
day by day, I go
to unfamiliar paths I’ve dreamt
without a thing, but with a word
a dream, an aim to put to work

by and by, I’ll learn
little by little, I’ll thrive
to inspirit every end of the story
every luckless can someday be lucky
A poem for a commissioned painting
Tita Halaman Jun 2021
Go, gaze; eye to eye
Dive in hues, swim against the current
Do what scares you, until it doesn’t
Each tasted hurt, each tasted flames
Yet, guts eat fire; grit win games
A mirror of charm, a mirror of gloom
A toast to the grief
One’s sadness in bloom
A poem for a painting
Tita Halaman May 2021
On glooms and shadows, alone we seek
Strokes of hues, glimpse of light
To flip the page, then start to write
A new chapter, as we sleep tonight

Aren’t we all trying?
To live a life worth dying
To put a smile beneath our breath
So lucky you, if you have met
Who will toast with you to new beginnings?
Who will make life worthwhile?
A poem for a painting
Tita Halaman May 2021
On pins and needles
I’ve never dreamt with bated breath
Though not all I wish is what I get
Though I swim in sins, in tears I shed
For my limbs hugged me to get up
For my faith helped me to never drown
Never, as long as I believe
Tita Halaman Apr 2021
What would we be?
If only we’ll forget
Limits, we used to set
Limits, the mind coined threat
A win or die trying
I’d lift my body soaring
For I and I, who made myself suffer
Would fly one day, steering together
My tears, my sweat as a dreamer
Tastes like water, feeds my brain
Eyes on the prize, numb on the pain
How wild, how mad, life’s truly a game
A poem for a painting
Tita Halaman Apr 2021
One stage, time may thought it halted
Skipped the beat, missed the pocket
Cut the groove, tried to reset
Sat and stood, yet will never forget
The love it poured, behind these wires
In every word, in every line
Who sees, who saw? both sides can rhyme
A poem for a painting
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