Author Archives: miragepoetry

WELCOMING 2016

30 Wednesday Dec 2015

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MANIGONG BAGONG TAON KABAYAN. (3)

HAPPY NEW YEAR

Welcoming 2016 with brightness and optimism – love and peace to everyone. My profound jocundity, New Year is fast approaching. Another year nearly is done, and a new beginning awaits. What a joyful moment; my wish this year is the same as all the other years – for love and peace to prevail; success and high quality of life for everyone. My New Year’s Resolution in 2016 – I still have to think for one. Everywhere in the world, we welcome the New Year with bling, sunniness and wish that the year ahead will bring prosperity and good health.

In 2015, many had been lucky. Happy couples got married; children were born and most wishes granted. However, there were also sad events; war, accidents and sickness had taken lives. To live in the safe place is what everyone wants. To have the peace of the world is what every heart longs. We would never know how lucky we are until one can see others mishaps. While we think of what we are going to have on the table on New Year’s Eve, in war-torn countries, people hide to stay alive. It is sad but we can only move forward – hope and pray that the coming year, the whole world will live in comfort and peace.

New Year’s resolution – in previous years, I had plenty. Many New Year’s Eve passed, too long ago: to have good grades at school was the first in my list of which I held on. Oh! I should not forget. Also, I wished to get tall; this one did not happen. I jumped as high as I can every twelve midnights on the opening of the year. But, I am more than happy for what I have; a happy family and good health. God has showered me love and abundance of great friends.

The tradition in the Philippines, greeting the  New Year – what a beautiful realm! I believe that New Year is the extension of Christmas. My father made sure that we celebrate the great Eve with gladness and cheers. Every member of my clan must be present, and even extended family invited. Food and drinks overflow yet again just like Christmas. Relatives not present on the birthday of Jesus will have gifts from my parents. Firecrackers filled the whole neighbourhood. I miss the New Year’s Eve in the Philippines. But, I must admit that fireworks are dangerous and must always be taken care when handling one. Although, I have great memories of New Year every year in different parts of the world, my New Year’s Eve in the Philippines, still is the most magnificent and unbeatable. Fireworks on New Year’s Eve has been years of tradition in the Philippines, but accidents could happen. So please, take care and stay safe.

I WISH YOU A PROSPEROUS AND GREAT LIFE IN 2016. LET’S HOLD HANDS AND MAKE A JOYFUL PLACE TO LIVE – WITH OUR LOVE TO HUMANKIND.

ALL MY LOVE,

VIRGINIA CLOSE

EPIC MOMENT by

24 Thursday Dec 2015

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CONGRATULATIONS TO MISS  PHILIPPINES, PIA WURTZBACK – MISS UNIVERSE 2015

As the Miss Universe 2015 is trending, I looked at the posts in Facebook, Twitter and the whole lot of media. To the honest truth, I did not watch the event that day as I was busy with my life and, therefore, did not have any idea how the contestants looked until I heard from a friend of what had happened. I watched the footage the next day and thought for a second of what it is all about. The camaraderie born and progressed among the contestants, no doubt. Those beautiful ladies are the crème of their countries represented to be the Ambassador of Goodwill. Steve Harvey proclaimed that Ms Columbia is the Miss Universe of 2015, two or so minutes, the host then came back on stage – rectified his mistake and talked to the pleonasm of the prism. It was an honourable thing to do. However, as a result, there was a commotion; the glamour of the account became the arena of a nightmare. No doubt, in front of the millions of people around the world watching via satellite – overwhelmed with confusion as well. Miss Columbia must be devastated for she already wore the crown walking and giving her full smiles to the crowd. I felt the sombreness in my heart as I continued to view. Miss Philippines appeared speechless and bowled over, and perhaps, felt the same as me and just wanted to give the title away. What good in the world this happenstance brought the Universe? Mistakes could happen in any ungiven forth in Eden that even the most experienced presenter could not imagine. Perhaps, out of excitement, Steve announced the wrong country. Miss Columbia was euphorically ambling to the Garden of Roses and suddenly pricked by its thorns. I had watched many beauty pageants on television when I was young. And the faces of the Filipina winners were different from the others. They seemed so shy with radiance and humbling about their triumphs. The subtle gestures of how a Filo (As what they are referred to in Australia) were gentle like the swaying of the wind.

After viewing the Miss Universe Pageant 2015, I also watched the bad opinion of Ms Germany who totally believes that it was Ms Columbia; deserving of the crown and later apologised. I do not wonder why Ms Germany was nowhere near the five finalists. In my younger years, Miss Universe Contest was one of my most awaited moments to happen. It was 1969 when I cried as I watched – Gloria Diaz won, the first Filipina to hold the crown of the most prestigious beauty contest Miss Universe, so graceful. Then, in 1973 in Greece, Margie Moran, utterly finesse and cool when she won over Miss USA. The Philippines, a tiny country in the Pacific has won many times in the beauty contests. Is it for the reason that the Pinays have such good genes? Is it the beauty alone that counts? I have not entered in the beauty pageant and for that matter, in real essence, I do not have a clue how it works on the judging. However, the presenter would say how and the categories mentioned but being a contestant is a different cattle of fish. As far I know, the talent and answers to the questions carry a lot of points. The Filipinos are brilliant and the wisdom – impeccable. I’m not saying this because I am a Filipina by birth although I acquired citizenship from Australia along the way. I heard many nationalities had said the same thing.

In any contest, be it sport or beauty, sportsmanship must prevail. The winner proclaimed by the judges – always correct. But in the 2015 saga, the presenter made a mistake but soon enough fixed. But, it did not finish there. And became the bombardment to the kernel of the brains from the audience – question asked, how did it happen? It was a big blow to Ms Columbia; no doubt. However, she handled the situation with grace, I thoroughly believe, it is painful. Adhering to the tangibility of the correctness of the judging, the truth, Miss Columbia is also a winner, first runner-up. For me: to enter that kind of competition, the young and beautiful ladies are already winners. The road that they passed by must be daunting but they have to give their best shot. Donald Trump said that; Ms Philippines and Ms Columbia should share the title? Well, that is his opinion but why? It was not the mistake of the judges. It was just announced wrongly. Where is the standpoint of the judges if this case would happen; that there are two title holders? Judges decision is always right – that’s the perfect answer to me. Therefore, there is only one Miss Universe in 2015 – Miss Philippines, Pia Wurtzback.

The Universe has a plan for everyone…the constellation aligned to the correctness manifested to humankind. A thing that seemed to be unbelievable can happen fast like a comet passing by. Nevertheless, whatever we do, humility goes a long way. Pia’s humbleness and gentleness – a gift from heaven. Miss Universe 2015 – Epic moment.

 

 

REFLECTIONS

20 Sunday Dec 2015

Posted by in Christmas, Jesus Christ, joy, peace, Uncategorized, world

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In the moment of my reflections, I sat beside the glittering lights of the Christmas tree. As I recollect the many Christmases that I had in the Philippines, it made me feel nostalgic. The “Simbang Gabi” (Midnight Mass) that I used to go had been one of the most glorious days of my life as I knew that Christmas – just around the bend. The Christmas songs on the radio played made my heart cheery although I heard them so many times each year.

What is the actual meaning of Christmas to me?  When I was a kid – this is the way I spent Christmas. Aside from the birthday of Jesus Christ, as a child, Christmas also meant I will receive many presents from my godmothers, godfathers, and Santa Clause. A beautiful day, for I can eat as many lollies as I want to. The Christmas season also brought me closer to my friends. We sang Christmas carols in the neighbourhood from December 16 right through to the Christmas Eve. As far as I can recall, I made sure to attend the Midnight Mass, from the beginning, which also commenced on the 16th of December. A tradition of which my family practised and for that matter, I was awakened by my grandma as early as 3:00 o’clock in the morning to get ready. After the mass, the aroma of the food outside the church prevailed as vendors sold “Puto Bumbong” and “Bibingka” that made me hungry. As I grew the path of my youth, I continued to go to the Midnight Mass come 16 of December until the Christmas Eve, of which not many times that I had missed.

However, when I left my beloved country, Christmas had never been the same. I spent my first Christmas in Darwin, Australia with my family and friends many years ago but somehow, I longed to do the things that I was accustomed to. Thenceforth, my Christmas life had changed in so many ways. I celebrated the birthday of our King in other countries. I also brought my children to the Philippines for them to experience the wonderful atmosphere of Christmas, few times.

Ergo, as years passed by, Christmas has given me a different perspective. Albeit the day Jesus Christ was born – celebrated throughout the world, I must admit that I rejoice Him each and every day of the year. The customs and traditions still matter to me; the reason I spend Christmas in the Philippines whenever I could. The high in jig time I proclaimed whenever I see the illuminating lights everywhere I go. The cheers and the festive moods that my relatives, friends and neighbours shared with me – I sincerely missed so much. Christmas is the time to give our love not only to the people who are dear to our heart. It is also, the moment to forgive whoever wronged us. It is not how big the present and how many gifts I get anymore. The exactness of the scene: to love and to forgive. For the celebrant, Jesus Christ was born to shower love, joy and peace to the world.

In my total contemplation, I blinked and cheered that I only have a few more nights of sleep – Christmas is here. Then, I stood up, put on the stereo and played some Christmas songs. Oh! How splendid! My favourite time of the year is going to be a great one again! In my totality, it does not matter where I am, as long as I am with my loved ones, that’s the most important of all. I have the most memorable Christmas when I was a kid and no one can take that away from me. Love –  the greatest theme to me, everyday. CHRISTMAS is the time for me to cheer and rejoice the birthday of our KING, HAPPY BIRTHDAY JESUS CHRIST. For without Him, perhaps, I won’t be able to know the true meaning of Love.

HAVE A BLESSED AND BEAUTIFUL CHRISTMAS TO EVERYONE. ALL MY LOVE, VIRGINIA CLOSE

 

 

 

 

PASSION HAS NO BARRIER

03 Thursday Dec 2015

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To dream and to hold the whimsical justification of your magical fantasy is an utmost importance. To believe that anything is possible – not a myth but a dashing realism. As the days gone by, I relish the exceptional brightness of each second when I was launching the novel, The Murder in Desert. Manila is dear to my heart, the charming but dense urban town. The so many happenstances at the same time in the week of my launching, it was a dream come true – the venue was full. A glorious moment that despite the traffic and the hardships of the media and guests to travel, they were able to attend.

The time for me to talk to my audience adhered, my voice seemed to crack at the very first sentence. It was nerve wrecking although I was well and truly ready. I was thoroughly thankful that despite all the ups and downs that I passed by, it became the truth. My hard work paid off. It was not the corporeality to the materialism but the fact that at my age, my passion for writing had been rewarded by the people who believe in me. In every trace of marvellous sparkles on the facial expressions that I had witnessed, I was euphoric that at long last –  the fruit from the vines that I nourished for a while; to be known.

The silence from the audience became the sonata to my ears. The frontal images of excitement from everyone were the thrill to my soul. My heart trembled with merriment as I read a part of the chapter. I wanted to stop talking, although I noticed the semblances of everyone were focused on me. I just longed to hug and thank the guests for the precious time they were spending with me. God showed me the path to the Avenue of Nirvana – to follow my passion.

There is so much beauty in life. There are so much joy and seventh heaven in this world that many aspire. To dream and to make it happen is paramount to one’s happiness. I am very passionate about writing. Passion has no barriers and definitely has no age limit. Regardless of the many places that I had been and the materials things that I have, without love, my life meant nothing. God showers me this gift that I must share with everyone – Creative Writing. I thank God for all my blessing.

THE LAUNCHING

16 Friday Oct 2015

Posted by in home, joy, life, world

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Going back to writing is like coming home. To the joy of my being, the constellation where I once rotated became apparent to my heart; that I have to do what I am meant to. The world of Creative Writing is the sphere where my soul belongs and for the matter, I have to share with humankind the gift that the Almighty and the Universe had showered me. The stellar in heaven sparkle to the just of their longings; the meteorites are shooting in the prowess of the cosmic forces – rejoicing as my hands inscribe every molecule of words.

My first published novel – THE MURDER IN DESERT INN – is now at hand, bringing the readers to the world of the magical land and myth-like scenario of the main character. The dramatis personae became my friends. Thus, nourished my nous to the plethora of astrological configuration of the Shangrila.

THE BIRTH

10 Saturday Oct 2015

Posted by in happy, life, love, mother, teenager

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Final Cover (1)

The blessings of the Almighty, the rays of the sun and the collaboration of the moon to beautify the scene are magnanimous. I am ecstatic to announce the birth of my baby – THE MURDER IN DESERT INN – my first published novel.

The silhouette of my castle in Spain had come to terms in reflection on the days that I was not writing. Too long ago, since I inscribed the book that was not published because I moved to another continent. My manuscript had been lost when all my belongings were put into the box and somehow disappeared. It was a fiction set in the ’70s of the experiences that I went through as a teenager. Living in a place far from the city where I was born and moulded, my life diverted to a different pathos. My status had changed and my conglomeration to a different culture emerged. My love for writing forgotten as I put it in the Pandora box unknowingly. To my exacting, many moons and suns passed by my indexes without me noticing as I was jubilant of the days being with my two adorable children. Would I be a mother if my first manuscript had been published? The best achievement ever in my life – needed and wanted by my neonates. Their sounding calls were the music to my ears. Their laughter and joys were the glee of my heart. Their weeping became the bombardment of chaos in my soul – I am needed and wanted to make them resonate in resounding bliss in the realm of Peter Pan in the Neverland. As I recount, my Chronicle has meanings and reasons for me to curve my road. Thus, my passion for writing went for an extended period of being dormant. In my conjuration and complete affliction, the rationale: to savour the boulevard of Nirvana as I toddle along each and every day of the splendid jiffy that became my sphere – Zion at its best. In the summation of my persona, I open myself to the Universe. Ergo, my Rhapsody, in my hand, fitted to the nanoscale event up to the whopping episode of my life.

As my children grow, my hands started to lose the grasp. Someday, I am not needed anymore to nurture and lead my offspring to the path to Euphoria. My daughter and son will have their lives and for that matter, I will go back to where I started – Myself. Regardless of whether I have someone I love beside me, the moment of pleasure with my babies were the most rewarding of them all. For the caress of my spirit, I have brought up the two beautiful creatures in this world.

To the tangibility that the rotation of the earth on its axis will revolutionise to the movement of the Universe, in my aloneness, my Pandora box opened and the paragons glimmered to the summit of its brightness. My fingers fiddled my pen to inscribe my feelings. My thoughts did not deliberate not even a second but only to escalate, for the moment had come for me to write again. My convalescent heart commanded that my faculty of mind must go back to the arena that I nourished when I was young – Creative Writing.

The Murder in Desert Inn was born in the desert of Western Australia. The beautiful waterless land is my friend and ally – my utmost inspiration to the world of my surreal realism. For in my totality – the desert is an absolute gem – a mammon ground that helped me go back to my sphere.

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THE HORIZON IN THE MEADOWS

28 Monday Sep 2015

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Pregnancy is one of the most spectacular moments that ever happened to me — giving birth is another. September 29 is very special to me. Twenty- eight years ago, I gave birth to a beautiful baby girl. To hold the small human being that I carried for nine months made me cry in happiness. Motherhood is the best experience that I have. As of the moment, I am not with my gorgeous daughter to celebrate this occasion as she now lives in Paris, France. Albeit, we domicile in different continents, our bonding is unbreakable. In two weeks time, I will fly to Paris to be with my baby. I am getting anxious now — totally thrilled that I will be near her for the next five months, spending Christmas and New Year. Last night, I could not sleep and few times I called my daughter. To touch her face and give my warmest greeting is what I long. As mother and daughter, we have misunderstandings, not many times. Perhaps, counting them with the use of my fingers is plenty. Nevertheless, those are parts of the blossoming friendship that we developed and kept on making. We make great memories and those keep me going in times that I miss her very much. I will sit down and ponder the marvellous stints in the days gone. We can only talk so much on the cyberspace and watch each other do our tasks. However, to sit down with her in person — have breakfast, lunch, and dinner or even just to have coffee on the veranda is gratifying. But, just like many others when grown-up, my daughter cannot be with mummy anymore. She has her life. The thing with motherhood — a unique path; I promenade whilst cherishing the joy and laughter we share — remarkable and second to none. To Victoria, you are a friend. But firstly — you are my sweet baby daughter. HAPPY BIRTHDAY! And to all the celebrants today, I wish you all the best! Be a friend to you mum. Mother and daughter are the best buddies.

 

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THE HORIZON IN THE MEADOWS

BY VIRGINIA CLOSE

 

On the beams of the morning,

I woke up with pains in my legs.

As my body cosseted to the just of the pillows;

A pirouette in my dreams then appeared.

Soon to come, I was in the hospital bed lying;

Waiting for my baby to be born on that day.

To the joy of the moment, a cry from a girl!

My heart served to the verve and shouted with all glee;

A beautiful baby girl was smiling at me.

To the many moons that passed our nights;

I cradled and nurtured her with all my heart.

As I embraced her to the hobo of the magical stint;  

I did cry and lamented when she wept and screamed.

When she laughed, it dominated the arena of the scene.

Thus, became the sonata to the field of my realm.

When she danced to the music of the Hays;

With all eyes, I watched without a blink.

In chronicling the Clover of my palm;

A Colleen had turned into a lady very fast.

In the city of romance and love now she lives. 

In my heart, she is the stunning princess — a gem.

In my soul — gladness she brings evermore.

Charms to my day — her spirit lifts me up to the sky. 

Through it all, she is a flashing meteorite.

And graciously gives lights to anyone’s burgeon world.

Her finesse is the glory of my eyes;

Her elocution is the melody to the song.

As she passes, the Aurora of the sun rays with her;

So refine and a la vogue, I will say.

Honoured I and much flattered, yet to say; 

A beautiful child is now a fine Mademoiselle.

My dear daughter, you will always be my sweet baby girl

For in my limbs, my extension is such a panache;

Sent to me from Someone up There.

My journey is such a blissful flight because of you. 

You are the horizon in the meadows 

Who gives me joy, flare, and glare.

HAPPY BIRTHDAY, MY DARLING DAUGHTER!

May the stars and the constellations align to your wishes.

 

 

10 Thursday Sep 2015

Posted by in love, romance

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THE MIRROR

It was 1998 when I first set my foot to the city of love and romance, Paris. I travelled with my two children in a freezing weather although it was one of those winters that were not icy at all. The train ride from Zurich to Paris was not long; we were in the marvellous city after five hours. My children and I stayed near Sacre Coeur. So, every day, we commuted to Paris for half an hour and stayed there the whole day; going back to Montparnasse when we were just about to go to bed.

I so wanted to go to the house of Victor Hugo. One morning, I decided to bring my kids to Bastille. As we were about to walk to Place des Vosges, the rain poured and my children and I ended up in Lafayette, shopping. The second time I went to Paris was 2008 and again wanted to go where the author of Les Miserable spent his life writing. But for some reason, I was not able to go again. However, wintertime 2014, I told myself, rain or shine; Place des Vosges, here I come.

I arrived in the house of Victor Hugo nearly 3:00 o’clock in the afternoon. It was not really far from Champs-Elysees where I was staying. The entrance was free and there were only a few people waiting in the queue.

Living in a tropical place for a long time, even with the slight climb of temperature; it was glacial to me. However, the stone walls of the building had kept its warmth and my thick coat gave me unbearable discomfort; I took it off. As I approached the kindest lady that I ever met in Paris, I smiled gently. She handed me some brochures; I walked my way through to the stairs with excitement. It was a big house, actually.

On the first part of the stairway, there was a portrait of the master. The lady standing near the ingress was kind enough to take my photo. My heart was jumping euphorically as I entered the house; silence in the air as I toddled inside. One particular object which caught my attention was the mirror. Due to its oldness; the lustre had been lost. As I scrutinised the antiquity of the mirror; it had given me the creeps as if a wind gushed my face. It was spooky, really. Then, I stared at the portrait of the author of Les Miserable, I felt like I went back in time. To touch the objects that Victor Hugo owned was surreal. In the arena of my tangibility of that moment, to get the grasp of stepping my foot on the floor where Victor Hugo stood was a real delight.

One of my flight of fancy had come true: to see the house of Victor Hugo after envisioning it for a long time. Well and truly: it was magic.

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VICTORIO

06 Sunday Sep 2015

Posted by in aunty, brother, family, father, mentor, sister, uncle

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My tatay

Today is Father’s Day in Australia. HAPPY FATHER’S DAY! Dad does not necessarily apply only to the natural parents. It also applies to the mothers, uncles, brothers and sisters who look after a child in the absence of the biological father for all sorts of reason. Many years ago, the heaven called my dad. I can still recall the saddest moment in my life when I held my father in my arms for the very last time. My dad’s name is Victorio, and many people fondly called him Victor. But, my mother called him Ling. When I was young, I did not have any idea what was the meaning of Ling. I later found out that it meant darling. The great memories of my father, I will cherish and treasure. I can clearly recollect how he taught me; counting my fingers and my toes. He was the first one to teach me how to write my name whilst my mother sat beside watching my fingers moving. My parents were loving and kind. And they were always together; going out of the house to go to work; going to church, cinema, vacation and the lot. It was a big blow to my mum when dad got sick and eventually did not recover. However, as the days passed, it was me who actually could not move forward about the passing of my father. And mum, thoroughly was aware of it. That was the time that she told me to be strong. That when a person is already in heaven, you want him to rest in peace. And my dad will watch over the family and me.

VICTORIO

BY: VIRGINIA CLOSE

I learn to read; I acquire my knowledge of writing.

Victory is the meaning of your name.

Conquistador of my worries ever since.

Since I was born, you are my mentor;

The natural procreate, so kind and loving.

As I pass my path of youth;

You have been there to cheer my blessings.

There are times I lose my bearings;

You lift me up as high as heaven.

I do remember we have lots of avarice;

And one of them is giving me total devotion.

With all your patience, I accomplish my undertakings.

No other love can match you, dad;

No other man will treat me like a princess;

For you are one, and only kind.

I am here now because of your sincereness.

My life on earth is filled with flair and sparkles.

Our marvellous chronicles are in my heart;

I keep them in my chest of treasures,

So, nobody else can steal that richness.

With no silhouette of qualm and disbelief;

This very minutes, you are smiling.

With all aglow, you blow a kiss from stars above,

To your daughter who loves you so.

With your kindness and perseverance;

I am a happy being and happy soul.

With total warmth and dedication;

HAPPY FATHER’S DAY TO MY LOVING DAD!

I know, and I feel that you are here watching;

And saying, thank you my dearest daughter,

For the warm greetings!