by Erlie Lopez

There’s a poem

keeping me awake

begging to be written

while the rain sluices

on my windowpanes

and wafts the scent

of nocturnal flowers.


But my brain won’t budge

drained of thought

from cares of the day

a frail mother with baby

crying for milk

and an old man pushing a cart

of junk right on my street.


For what poem

can temper, even soothe rage

over thieves wanting

to raid further our land dry

and drive the hemline folks

down to the gutter

till they dream no more?


Sleep is coming

maybe I will snore

thunders on my bed.

Forget then that poem

for the lyre will spring again

when roses bloom

anew in the morning


in my heart

and in my country’s too.

About the Poet

Erlie Lopez is a Filipina retired from the frenetic world of Public Relations and Advertising in Metro Manila. She was, in the last 18 years, head of a PR agency she co-founded. In her independent and sedate world now, she mostly reads, writes, stays socially connected, soaks in Nature, and develops new interests and skills adapting to the pandemic mode of life. She has also returned to a first love – poetry – which keeps her heart open to the grace and rhythm of the universe.