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Saturday, February 16, 2019

Listen To the Whistle of the Wind

Listen to the whistle of the wind,
But look at the color it brings. 

Melchor F. Cichon
February 16, 2019

The Sleeping Shrimps

The Sleeping Shrimps
by Melchor F. Cichon
February 13, 2019

I passed by
A river.
The water was clear.
But when I stepped into it
It was slippery
And the stones
Were sharp.
I wanted to go back to the shore
But I had a mission:
To catch shrimps.
So I lifted some stones
And there I saw
Some sleeping shrimps.
I caught some of them
And brought them home.
At first, they were curb
But they straightened
When they touched the burning coal.

Sunday, February 10, 2019


Melchor F. Cichon
February 10, 2019

He is alone
Taking his lunch
At the end of a table
In the Canteen. 

He just wants to be like a morning star
All alone.

Until I hear
The whistling bamboo leaves.

Until I see
His soiled lips.