Bonics Bachinela

Bonics Bachinela Poems

A gored heart,
To whom was it owned?
Nobody, No one, ever did claim.
Within briar entwined,
...

When the teary heavens' clasped in fist,
to conflagrate and be the fire,
I was with you in silhouette.
...

Fill me the air to breath
with music to console my sad soul,
grant me the skies so azure
to visualize the light afar,
...

The sun's to veto darkness;
because, it depresses the light,
covered it with dusk to night,
infectious to a person
...

A trek to look back to restrospectively,
the worth remembering for
where heart's in sorrow, pierced
and painful mem'ries in graved,
...

A desolate island, wailing in misery,
To mercy it beseech, but refused.
To equality it may at least has right but, what a sly,
It was left deserted in mimicry!
...

As you donned on my me,
A gentle pat, reminding you,
'Tis my significant core,
'Tis where my heart dwells.
...

You shed the morning tears,
In daylight, meandered with gloom,
to mend the torn part,
pent up in one's heart.
...

11.

Will briar be not forbid'n,
Entwining the bloom'd flower,
That's sobbing for azure skies,
Vetoed by atrocious cries?
...

Your soul's transparent,
Breathing out one's purity.
The clarity of your eyes,
Your stillness of mirrored water,
...

Eyes are the windows of your soul,
Your glass of pure breaths.

A flower of defined value,
...

If only you could understand
the messages the eyes convey,
If only you could take it by heart,
the silent words of teardrops,
...

Trapped in an atoll of unsolicited illusions.
Longing for uncaptured ideals,
where, heart's and vision's discerned.
One's self paining for the invaluable fate,
...

The tide burst out the pent up emotions to shore,
as the wind blows towards it in receding waves.
...

Looking at the foliages,
swaying complacently,
and pliant to gusts and adversities,
as the gods' blessed them to be.
...

Bring to me my soul,
drifted away from sweet ore,
gone with the tempest,
left emptiness to the core.
...

In a world
of different facets,
masks vary
in circumspect.
...

Tormented encaged sparrow, mourn
O'er the loses of one's soul.
Its graces, lost;
And, compassion's gone.
...

Bonics Bachinela Biography

' Let them hate me because of my honesty or fabricate lies to mar my integrity; but, my transparency's already registered and noted with times. I pass this life not many but once, let me live it according my purposive goal. I am not expected to live the perfect life but, at least, part of it, I lived with perfect heart.' I was born as Cherryl Lynn Gamus Bachinela. An introvert by times. My parents separated when i was in my primary school years. Used to be one of the good students until i graduated from the elementary school. But, often people looked at me as aloft, who wanted to be on my own, always. Who sets eyes nowhere. Staring at blankness. That was their opinion. I never vetoed on that. But, out of their knowing, i was only exploring the vastness of my imagination. And, i liked to do it many times in my younger years. I wasn't blessed with a perfect home, so I set things right in my dreams. Creating fancies. Enjoying the wonderful things. And, soaring high. In my solitude, I honed my talents and abilities. Studied on different aspects. Comparing a lot of things until arrived at desired results. Had never experienced having an enemy once, but had had many frustrations. Had never intended to be offensive, but my silence, often received misconceptions. Part of my childhood experiences, was this odd feeling. Realized that the more clean acts are done, the subtle it became. But, i wasn't raised pious. Only did what learned from school and from church's teachings. Realized how belief in God could bless a man with a special gift. That I honed in my lone times. And, kept secret for many years. Year 2007, when de facto rule commenced in the Philippines, i was arbitrarily and forcibly turned ' PHILIPPINE MILLENIUM', a vitiated slave by the government. Stripped out of nothing. Oppressed and marred for years. Spent more than a year in my arbitrary harem, my home, as subject of experimentations and other income resources. It was only after years of agony, that, good samaritans, noticed my battle. Recognized my potentials, including my extra-ordinary gift, where, experts called it ' high existentialism'. The slang stories of my life related through different hollywood movies. Only few ordinary people noticed those. But, most of the members of legislative bodies around the globe knew them. And, have known me as 'Beloved, the vitiated Philippine Millenium'. But, that was only the yesteryears. Right now, I am already a physiological analyst, trained by international experts. A graduate of Electronics Engineering Technology and, Bachelor of Technology Teacher Education from a national state university. I am still in my early part in Bachelor of Legal Laws. Now, I am still Cherryl, the Beloved, as people once knew. An original clone. The referential based for the designs of landscape and sculptures in the province of Misamis Oriental. A fine artist in my own right. A dancer. A poet. An existentialist. Most of all, a specialized individual designed for a good purposive motive. A United Nations' advocate. And, a true friend...)

The Best Poem Of Bonics Bachinela

The Gored Heart

A gored heart,
To whom was it owned?
Nobody, No one, ever did claim.
Within briar entwined,
The affection, chained,
In graces, those sound hearts 've forgott'n;
But, in disgraces, blamed.

Poor heart, a bamboo amidst devious gusts,
Still resilient with nature's flared thrusts.

Life, in fluctuating chances,
With intricate arduous paths,
The humble undaunted heart, paces.
Cheerful to the mocks of less educated words,
Gracious even to the mediocre sights, seen,
Waiting for fiends to be friends,
And, waiting for grumps to be grins.

The good heart, awaiting religiously
For a disarmed hostility.

When dusk over casted sunrise,
Azure skies turned reddish hue,
Flag's complacent blue
Became bloody red,
A battle commenced
Without seen bivouac.
Only a deep slumber be awakened by a wise act.

The time given for the forgotten heart
to play a relevant part.

Could empathy be invincible?
Could love heal a widespread battle?
The best scientist cajoled the unison
With the discovery
of well-concocted compassion.

The nobody and no one's heart,
Made the best part.
Anybody, somebody and everybody,
Claimed it to be the best HEART
Out of gore but precious art.

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