Posted by: tsopr | November 11, 2007

Poet Ernesto Pangilinan Santiago

Poet’s Profile:

Ernesto Pangilinan Santiago, sometimes nicknamed the Lost Poet, is a Filipino immigrant/poet, writer, novice photographer and author, living in Athens, Greece. He attended San Sebastian College, taking up Political Science in 1984-1986, then later through scholarship moved to the former USSR, where he continued his studies at the Ukrainian Institute of International Relations at Kiev University in Kiev, Ukraine, where he graduated in 1992, with a degree in International Law and a certificate in Russian Language, granting him the right to teach at courses and circles of Russian. For him, poetry is the many voices of the heart…and he says “I am only writing what my aging brain sees, and if what I write makes me a poet, then, I am a poet.” Though, he began his writings recently he has already authored a poetry book “The Walking Man” and in 2006, he’s received an award for “Outstanding Achievement in Poetry,” given by the International Society of Poets. He’s also a three-time winner of the daily contest “The International Haiku Contest” by poetry.com “The International Library of Poetry.” Having been featured in “The International Who’s Who in Poetry”, he gives aid and inspiration to others in both his works and personal life. He’s also sharing some of his poetry, to help a charity, for the benefits of cancer/child abuse victims.

He is a member of World Poets Society.

Featured Poetry:

The Poet, Who Asked the Birds How To Fly (Mixed Rhyme)

O, behold the man, by the old sea
He closes his brown eyes, feeling free
Dancing to the wind, taunting the bee
He, who loves nature, although, carefree
Nevertheless, wants you all to see

Him, who hates watching gray clouds hide the bright sky
Where falcons, soaring high, relentlessly
Against the gusting wind, they’ve freedom to fly
Reveling in fleeting days, across the

Virulent sea, where he spends time
Lulling, unmindful of them
The naked ladies of Shem
On shoreline rocks, weaving blue rhyme

For he does not like to see those eyes, tinted
With hues of withered red roses on the ground
‘Cos there is no more beauty, in them, when dead
Or, in the eyes, when full of sadness, the sound

Of a unkempt sea, where its breath
Streaking his soul, without regret
Filled with un-prophetic news
That he, too, wished to fly, to set
Wings to where he won’t have to fret
‘Bout not wanting to peruse…

The whippersnapper, who n’er wanted to cry
He, the poet, who asked the birds how to fly
He, the man, by the old sea, hurt by heart’s lie

That, in forms, caused him to unveil
Whence readers can feel, the detail

Whether, penned in a single verse
Or, in a freestyle, like free-verse

Whether, it’s written in sonnet
Or, perhaps, in a rhymed couplet

Between lines, untangle his thought

And you’ll see me, the life, I fought

***

The Sound of Poetry

He beamed and glides
across the board. His words
subtly form in heroic couplets.

He spoke to a whisperer
of love. And, she promised him
…he’ll not be torn apart.

The sound of poetry
serenading the stillness of night, where he
silently, reads the lips of the wind

Rustling him, with
sweet symphony, of her soul
…for his crimson heart, like mine!

***
O, Mother Earth

O, Mother Earth,
you’re so rich, with butterflies’ songs
and full of olden lullabies,

sung by mountains and valleys
while rivers keep flowing through
the ever-changing seasons of life.

You speak the language
I hardly know,
but your silver touch

sends me a tingle,
that great joy and laughter
bejewel the lake of green.

Your yellow orb scattered
sparkly gems on the blue water
of a mesmerizing sea;

as for your majestic sky,
it wraps, gently, its arm around me
whilst I gaze, at-night, at the stars.

O, Mother Earth,
take me to the fortress,
where kings and queens meet

and teach me…
the graceful dance
of the wind.

Copyright © 2007 Ernesto Santiago

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