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Poem Collections

On A Park Called Stanley
by George C. Palaganas a.k.a. Cool Dela Peña

The gallows of refreshing idleness
sleepy parchments, locquacious and evergreen
minks,racoons and squirrels, ostensibly responsive
impeccably bewitched and stalked.

Men of silence, peace and tranquility
rested astuteness in crabbing omnipotence
embrace walkways in refined rectitude
learn to kill time in savored perfection.

Trees immesurably divine
conquers the breeze from a land afar
yellow,red and magenta on fall
but definitely refoliages comes springtime.

Mammoth fishes spans for a show
lives on an aquarium, all in aglow
whistles,catcalls and earnest soar
combines refinements, lurks in a row.

Biker lanes surreptitiously marked
next to spaces for trekkers of miles
dances atuned to revelry row
ever indignant, ever decried.

Chances upon me , oh decripitly slow
on yachts around it, converges on cow
linger on and around the peninsula
with colorful sails succinctly bequested.

Half of the road and half of the scions
raise their minicas all for the damed
cups of lapiz lazuli before stone arts
crumble not for the day entwines.

Men of silence,peace and tranquility
hoist their graces in picnic fancy
for all through the day, a caviared piety
in certainty, on a park called Stanley.

99 Cents Pizza
by George C. Palaganas a.k.a. Cool Dela Peña

A hop on the corner, embarking on enthusiasm
and find a pizza the size of a large china
a looney for the pizza man, another for a soda
all praise and promptnessfor an exact change to finish.

A stare on the wall, a glance on the coins
in a romantically lit shop, the eagerness replies
a fork on one hand, a table knife on another
commune with the wall graffitis and murmurs from the next table.

Approach came as a frenchman in this self-serve watering hole
the wave of a slip in exchange of a bill
discreet and with reverence, a lone some refill
empathy demands the highest on the seams.

Recovery is late on the cheezes and pepperoni
for it vanished at the speed decreed for transfer tickets
a penny on the change made me realize
I had a 99 cents pizza that’s easy on my pocket.

by George C. Palaganas(a.k.a. Cool Dela Peña)

Hail to the guard of the Stanley peninsula!
Bring all their might in the fairness of Hudson
Sailors,oilmen and freighters
adore all the splendor of this valley.

Hail to the monument of the Self-less god!
Ring all their vows in the beauty of the Frazer
Runners,bikers and walkers
speak of its majesty as they pass this alley.

Behold the embrace of a nearby Lion’s Gate
And listen to the sound of waves beneath
wake-up the hustle and bustle
of the whole Victoria Island pack.

Behold the grace of a lonesome rock
a recluse for pelicans and seagulls alike
Nothing more and nothing will be
is so enkindling as the Siwash ROCK.

by George C. Palaganas a.k.a. Cool Dela Peña

It came upon a mist on a rare remedy
heightened paramours so chaste in its glory
a place so charmed and ubiquitously marvelled
for talents in clusters abound.

Beauty spoken by a gait
a smiling perfection moribund in fecundity
sharp, demure, a remarkable expression
for delightfully secure in its bossom.

Artists of the highest degree and calibre
mingle and barter their secrets of the trade
a cache of recorded passion, captured in media
of something magnetic or in canvass to be gripped.

A feeling of serendipity, humongous and equipped
respect on adulation in their command has zipped
gamed innocence for tomorrow’s edifice
of embroidered duty with intricacy of a keep.

Ardour in exuberance, so wide in deliverance
steep in the penalties of consumed ignominy
not from afar was a caisoned laryngoscopy
a new breed of songs that’s so insightful so to speak.

God has never made a place so familiar
where people are people, where they want to be
while-away in bars, stride and strive,
never to be hindered of a struggle in fashion.

A soulful rendition, a skillful stroke,
the artist in voice or the artist by hands
meet in a perfect tee in a place like no other
a street so famed in cognizance of a lather.

A star has risen! A star is born!
jump on a fast track, stare on a cradle,
come and be filled with joy,
on a tin-pan alley called Robsontrasse.

Under The Burrard Bridge
by George C. Palaganas a.k.a. Cool Dela Peña

I have seen it only on a movie the first time
on Forget Paris claiming this is the bridge
of another classic called An American in Paris
for I didn’t know it, until upclose I behold it.

Glide under the balance of serenity
get drowned in passion of illuminated desire
hold all inequities on the palm of your hand
like a drop of time in the stillness of the hourglass.

Capture the silence of numerous rendezvous
of smiling thespians and charlatans in the show
romance at night time glancing on its apogee
reminds you of contours, of buns supine.

Lips can be sealed, theirs of admiration
unmindful of the chill, a path of commendation
to sit on the benches in exhilirated jubilation
for under the Burrard Bridge, a joy of inclinations.

A Fun On A Summer Where
by George C. Palaganas a.k.a. Cool Dela Peña

It happened one summer with a piece of junk
dusty and full of cobwebs on the corner
all it need is to see the light of day
out from the garage for its two wheels to startle.

It started on the empty streets around the neighborhood
but none was there to notice except kids selling Kool-Aid of lemon
and from the kitchen came-out a bagful of sandwiches
for a longer trek, hug all sleep to dismantle.

Coming upon a tiny house near a dead railroad
and before arriving to an old theater in Dunbar
a hump to avoid, a downslope to throttle
on freehands till downtown I scramble.

Stopping by the roadside overlooking the English Bay
next to a girl busy with a paperback
a munch of bread, a look at the shoreline
for on the ship in large letters, Symphony of Fire it was written.

Passing by Kitsilano’s Malone restaurant
and earnest sunbathers reclining on turfs and green
off I go to nearby Jericho
a trailer by the sea is all that I find.

The slopes at UBC is a real hard climb
but the view of Wreck Beach from the top is a breath-taker
scattered floating timbers, the steepest cliff
and on your thought, a wrecked ship! from the Galeons of old time.

It was not for long before a pack of sports riders
pass before me oblivious of silence
off they go, laughing, boisterously talking
knowing at downhill, it will be all a free-wheel drive.

Then the moment has come for me to be home in Marpole
so with the junk I retrace my path to French and Granville
Pink as it is, for it was designed for a lady
but it was my ticket to a fun on a summer where.

Lowly Coffee Trees and Vine
by Cool Dela Peña

Dry and dusty road scamper my solidified embraces
of morning awakenings in summer liasons
Dandelions and wild berries race for spaces
Equestrian pipes locates this side.

Cupcakes in butter and pancakes with rye
The smell of brilliant breakfast is a sillified supine
Remember when mulberries are mulberries
rather than artificial beet crushed in pine.

Lowly coffee trees and vine, engulfs my desire
Orchard of beauty like grapevines entwined
Parched discipline in a sequence of charm
Ever creates a dainty incline.

Lowly Coffee trees and vine, makes a lazy magic divine
Growing sentiments of nurtured silence
Heaped grace and superior design
ever restores this homegrown ensign.

The Rhubarbs Of Hail Lavander

by Cool Dela Peña

Time reflects in the eyes of the man
Rainbows and clouds gather around
Like mountain dew that frosts at night time
Bringing solace and peace in this timid land.

Willows and pines basks in brightness
Salmons and bald eagles cling to life
bring same providence in the shadow of time
Like mulberry rose branches turned into wand.

Shifting murmurs from cuddly to rustic
The cold wind that blows is what I found
Giant leaves wave at their might
Same prominence from a distance all over the sand.

Time there was when colors changes hue
Orange, yellow, magenta and red,
No greater display a sight to behold
The Rhubarbs of Hail Lavander is green all the time.

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October 15th, 2009 by drgeorgecaingletpalaganas
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Poem Collections

George Palaganas

Everett, United States

  • Artist

Artist's Description

The beauty of British Columbia is unparalleled anywhere in the world. George Palaganas interestingly authored several poems specific on the elaboration of his travel to Vancouver BC in 1996 and 1997 and to glorify the beauty of this blessed land.

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