Archive for the 'Poetry' Category


Eyes of an Innocent ©toki88

Unaware of what lies ahead,
we choose what we perceive
to be the better of both worlds.
As compared to adulthood,
children have the unfair advantage…
or so they claim.
And thus we reach into the unknown,
the world of reality,
of independence,
of responsibility,
of pressure,
of failure.
Never to return to ignorant lives.
No longer
the eyes of an innocent.

poem written by me © Christa Uymatiao 2007,

Tell me, do you believe that children yearn to grow up so fast, and in doing so, quickly lose the innocence of their youth? I believe it to be true. Children yearn for the things that only adults can do, things adults tell them they cannot do until they are older. In that sense, it is the fault of adults who inspire in young children, thoughts of growing up fast so that they may supposedly have things that they couldn’t have as children. It’s sad isn’t it.

That’s probably why Peter Pan never wished to grow up. Being a kid, is the best time in one’s life. Children get to imagine things without end, are able to think beyond limitations, and are able to dream beyond boundaries. Children are able to do the impossible, and are able to dream the impossible. For children, everything can be done, and nothing is impossible. It sort of reminds me of this episode on Star Trek Voyager ( if I recall correctly) that talked of a race that grew up in an opposite manner. Meaning, the young ones were born into old bodies, and the older they get, the younger their bodies become. It actually comes out as a sort of ironic truth behind life. We try to get older too quickly that we forget our youth too quickly at times, but then we reach a certain point in our lives that we try to get back to our youth, as if we are children once again.

It’s quite funny really.

What do you think?


Star Night, Star Light ©toki88

Once upon a time,
a star fell from the sky.
It fell to the earth,
and was left to die.
But one little girl,
who watched the sky each night
saw the little star fall
and ran to the site.
She moved through the woods
and cared not for her dress,
for only one thing mattered,
and she cared for nothing less.
As she ran through the trees
she soon lost sight of the star
for it had fallen too quickly,
and had fallen too far.
But on she did trudge,
through the muck and the grime,
with her bare feet all dirty
and herself out of time.
She quickened her steps,
and to herself did she pray,
that she’d find that star quickly
before the start of that day.
Soon she heard a rustle,
a movement in the grass,
as if something was struggling
but it could not move, alas.
The little girl had found the star,
it was stuck on a bush.
Landing quickly it had sunk,
as if something gave it a push.
She ran to it as fast
as her little feet would,
she hurriedly grabbed the star,
and held it at tight as she could.
The star felt cold
as she held it in her arms,
with its color fading,
she tried to keep it warm.
Back to her house she ran
afraid for the light of day,
she would soon be found missing
and thus ran back without delay.
She also feared for her friend,
whom she craddled in her grasp
a mere baby it had seemed
had fallen from the sky at last.
As soon as she had returned
to her room she did run.
Hiding herself from all,
and her friend from the sun.
The little girl jumped unto her bed,
her hand on her friend
and quickly wrapped themselves tight
feigning sleep, to pretend.
As soon as she closed her eyes,
she did fall asleep,
and some sounds outside the door,
opened the door and gave a peep.
The little girl was sleeping,
quietly and peacefully it seemed.
While a small little light
from the bed side, did gleam.
A small little night light
shone bright into the night.
Keeping monsters away,
and scary things from her sight.
A small little thing it was,
as can be seen from afar,
a shining bright little night light
in the shape of a baby star.

poem written by me © Christa Uymatiao 2008,


The Unknown Citizen

I wanted to share this poem to all you readers out there. My Philosophy professor introduced it in my class one day, and though it seems rather strange, I have found it quite an interesting piece. It gives the reader much to think about, and it’s deeper than it looks at first glance.

Hope you guys find it as interesting a read as I did.

The Unknown Citizen

by W.H.Auden

He was found by the Bureau of Statistics to be
One against whom there was no official complaint,
And all the reports on his conduct agree
That, in the modern sense of an old-fashioned word, he was a saint,
For in everything he did he served the Greater Community.
Except for the War till the day he retired
He worked in a factory and never got fired,
But satisfied his employers, Fudge Motors Inc.
Yet he wasn’t a scab or odd in his views,
For his Union reports that he paid his dues,
(Our report on his Union shows it was sound)
And our Social Psychology workers found
That he was popular with his mates and liked a drink.
The Press are convinced that he bought a paper every day
And that his reactions to advertisements were normal in every way.
Policies taken out in his name prove that he was fully insured,
And his Health-card shows he was once in hospital but left it cured.
Both Producers Research and High-Grade Living declare
He was fully sensible to the advantages of the Installment Plan
And had everything necessary to the Modern Man,
A phonograph, a radio, a car and a frigidaire.
Our researchers into Public Opinion are content
That he held the proper opinions for he time of year;
When there was peace, he was for peace; when there was war, he went.
He was married and added five children to the population,
Which our Eugenist says was the right number for a parent of his generation.
And our teachers report that he never interfered with their education.
Was he free? Was he happy? The question is absurd:
Had anything been wrong, we should certainly have heard.


Where art my love? ©toki88

Such a story is a paramour of my dreams,
and will true love be never mine to hold.
Shall it remain forever a dream
or shall I see it opened before me
like a chest of gold yearned by all
and simply mine.
For I desire my own true love,
not that of others who hath their own wishes
because I, selfish thus
for that which is rightfully mine –
my own deserving true happiness.
I neither wish to take which isn’t mine
but to find what was fated to be
meant only for me.
Can I seek to find only my own true love?
Finding not those whose hearts I may break
or to find those who might break mine own.
For there may only be me
and there shalt just be him.
Him whom I desire most of all
above everyone else, him, who is love,
the embodiment of my heart and
the yearning of my soul.
Where art thou?

poem written by me © Christa Uymatiao 2007,

Another random entry on my poetry.

Love, is love, and love desired.


Abandoned ©toki88

Out of place and out of time.
Underappreciated among the crowd,
that which once was treasured
has now become a part of the past.
And they have long gone
and left her behind,
unconsciously leaving her out of everything
while she remains standing still.
Looking at the people she holds so dear
the footsteps and distance keeping them apart
and the emptiness, with the feeling of abandonment.

poem written by me © Christa Uymatiao 2007,

Have you ever wondered what it felt like to be left alone, or left behind? Such things happen a lot in our present day society. With the availability of new technology, the discovery of new things, and the modernization of our world, more and more of us find ourselves left behind by the passing time. Sudden changes in society, brought about by many factors are some of the causes for such feelings. Instead of the world bringing us closer together, the rate at which everything seemingly “improves” is too fast for everyone to flow along with.

At first, the improvement in different sectors of society due to technology seems to help. Many problems are solved, and many new things are discovered thanks to modernization. But at the same time, those who chose not to accept, or those who fail to understand this modernization, are left behind by the times, forced to struggle in a society that no longer accepts the old and the traditional. Items such as cellphones, which were once the pride of communication, may sometimes serve helpful to those who wish to communicate with one another. But at the same time, it also poses a problem. The increase in so many types of cellphones nowadays leads people to realize that they no longer know which is more helpful to them, and rather turn to what seems nice instead of what is truly beneficial.

Modern Technology may have brought many people closer together, but in the same sense, it has also made known the large and still increasing gap between traditional and modern society.


love in A noun, verb, adj ©toki88

you are the Apple of my eye and
my heart is Attracted to you so.
i Ache for your presence.
i Appear in love with you,
because i Am.
i Always yearn to hear your voice
and i Answer your every need
even if i Already know,
you Aren’t in love with me.
yet why do i Assume that deep down
you’re Attracted to me too.

poem written by me © Christa Uymatiao 2007,

Isn’t it funny how we humans become ignorant of things that are placed squarely in front of us. We ignore the most obvious of things, and suffer the consequences for it. Such is love. Even if we already know that some things won’t work out the way we plan, we pursue these far-fetched ideas and get hurt in the end. All around us are signs of a “mistake waiting to happen” situation, and we choose not to follow our instincts.

How can humans be so completely foolish, and still survive up till now. I wonder.


Cosplay Invitation

This was the poem I created most especially for the project I headed in my organization – the Ateneo Celadon.

The theme was Cosplay. It was held last August 10 (it was postponed).

One and all, come to the com and pub cosplay

as we begin a Night’s most delightful charade

of people different come far and near

gather together and here, appear.

As we all allow ourselves this time

come together in characters of fictional mind

let fantasy take over in this place

brought by decors abound in taste.

Dress up, not down in your attire

and with it let all inspire

that which can be done here then

gathers people soon called to be friends.

So on the 3rd of the August, under the stage’s light

From half past four till eight at night

Come join us in our show

As we invite you to the second floor, ISO.

© Christa Uymatiao

The Doll(dalera)

What lies behind the mask of a doll, kept sheltered and propped against the shelf wall. Beautiful and untouched for all to see, she comes unmasked in beautiful glory.

The Doll behind the mask

A fresh university graduate from the Ateneo de Manila University who loves to write stories, articles and poetry. Enjoys reading books - mostly fiction, and loves to play video games.

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