Saturday, February 22, 2003

Beyond Forgetting- Rolando Carbonnell

Dear Mouse,

I remember my brother and his friends practising for their POETRY READING Competition. I found one of the friends, cute. I thought that I could use some alibi to hang out with them. I brought peanut butter sandwich and lemonade. No cold soda...bad for the voice. My brother recited a poem that I thought sounded like my mom's favorite husband-wife poets, Elizabeth Barret Browning and Robert Browning but far better. I made kulit to him until he gave me a copy.

After several years, I met someone who recited a beautiful poem. Very familiar. He knew it by heart.   He told me, it is Rolando Carbonell's poem. I started searching in my journals/cum/scrapbook/diaries. I knew I heard it somewhere. I found this.


You Alone

by Rolando Carbonell

You alone, beloved, can teach me to measure the memory of a song... No one knows to what ecstasy my heart will soar. The gentleness in your smile is enough to touch the tenderness in my heart.

In the secret page of my life is written a story...never to be forgotten.

For all the silent records this vessel holds contain the memory of you.

Come, then, beloved, and sing with the songs so sweet.

Burn my soul with the magic jewel of your song that i may awaken from the darkness of this world to view the blossoming of the stars.

And is there any power greater than love? Speak then, beloved, speak.

Give to me the essence of your love, and the slumbering poems in this dark universe will blazon anew,swelling like waves upon the bosom of a hungry shore.

Because you and I shall sing, heaven itself will quiver with a burst of song.

And the morning shall greet us with a glow to open the flowering of a new tune.

No one else but you can still the throbbing, sobbing, murmuring voice within. No one.

For you alone can reach the silent stretches of my soul.

You alone...

Without you, beloved, what joy will there be in a song?

Without the embraces of your love - what use is the beauty of the morn?

Without the promise of your kiss, what delight is there in the fragrance of a rose?

Without you, my love, memory itself will lose the beauty of its touch...

Come then, my dear, like a flower, like a song, like a dream...

And I shall write the forgotten poems of many days you secretly left in my soul.

In every line I shall scribble the many thoughts this soaring mind holds.

And the music in my heart shall spread its wings to envelop the memmory of you youth scattered by the winds.

You alone can make a miracle out of a song...

You alone can transform this poem into a prayer...

You alone can make me feel the breath of life again.

Roland A. Carbonell



Poets are born not made.

The Ca t