top of page

Scribblory Writers Library

Your virtual library of true stories has come to this site!

Scribblory Writers Library shelters short true-to-life stories written by the memoirists of Scribblory Writers Group. This virtual library started in 2020, at the outset of COVID-19 pandemic. While the world was losing many lives, we held our pens and preserved life stories.

Are the write-ups here too few to quell the thirst of the reader in you? Head out to our old site and read some more.

james-barker-RKK_nvoOJ6Y-unsplash_edited.jpg
Image by James Qualtrough 🇮🇲

easter sunday special:Anchor

Written by Maximo Tumbali

March 31, 2024

Inhale, exhale.

Be still.

Take in the air's aroma.

 

Feel God's presence.

He's a Spirit, invisible like the fresh air—

A Giver of life whom you should adore.

 

Cast away your doubts and firm up your faith.

In Him, you find strength, meaning,

Purpose, and direction.

 

Thy soul is one with Him;

You won't go astray, amiss, 

Awry, restless, or adrift

 

He is your Anchor,

Protector, Friend, and Compass.

Image by Thought Catalog

world poetry day
Celebrating Poetry

Written by Maximo Tumbali

March 21, 2024

Your heart, whether young or old, blends your pieces in the right mix.

Long or short, if full of flavor, they'll surely enrich the mind.

 

Your poems are fun to read; their lyrics rhyme and echo like a song.

They evoke good feelings, sentiments, and strong emotions.

 

Heart and soul jump with joy as they hear your pieces—

Harbingers of bliss, solace, comfort, and gladness.

 

Your poetry flows in your blood; it circulates and flows.

When shared, anything ugly is enhanced and decorated.

 

Blow your trumpet, rejoice, and celebrate your poetry.

It has found itself a niche; now, you're one big celebrity.

 

You’re respected and hailed by your fellow poets—-

A recipient of countless awards and accolades.

Image by Debby Hudson

world poetry day
I Want to Write a Poem

Written by Caravaca Ime

March 21, 2024

I want to write a love poem.

 

I want to write an unrequited poem—

An I-want-to-embrace-you poem,

But-it's-an-impossible-thing-to-do poem.

 

I want to write a sheepish poem

About writing all these poems about you.

For five years’ worth of poems,

Including I'm-not-sure-you've-noticed,

it’s-on-my-wall poem.

 

With titles like: “I want you to know

That I've gotten over you” poem,

And “I want you to know

That I've accepted the fact

That we will never be together” poem.

 

“But I will forever care about you” poem.

 

I want to write a chill poem,

Of me by the seaside poem,

With my hair tangling

In the breeze poem.

 

I want to write a love poem for our country,

About how I will never get tired 

Of standing on the right side of history;

 

I-will-always-educate-our-people 

To-vote-wisely poem.

 

I want to write a goodbye poem

To forget and stop

The negativity within us all.

 

I want to write a sunrise poem,

But most of all, a sunset poem,

For-I-am-in-the-twilight-of-my-years poem.

 

I want to write a caring poem 

For my family,

My grandsons,

And my friends.

 

I want to write an inspiring poem,

And many-poems-as-long-as-I-live poem.

Image by Markus Spiske

Garden of Friendship: A Journey of Love

Written by Jeffrey G. Delfin

March 16, 2024

In the garden of friendship, seeds were sown,

Yet never did we foresee love's bloom to be shown.

Entwined in another's arms, I stood blind,

Unaware of the emotions waiting to unwind.

 

Thinking I found love's destined path,

Yet lured by false affection's aftermath.

Blind to my friend's hidden heart's plea,

Lost in a web of uncertainty.

 

Rescued by loyal friendship's embrace,

My shattered spirit found its place.

Now, in joy's embrace, I thrive;

No longer weary, but alive.

Image by Annie Spratt

international women's day
RED ROSE

Written by Maximo Tumbali

March 8, 2024

The woman says:

“Thanks to a good friend who shared this red rose with me,

A testament that sharing happiness doesn't have to be costly.

 

“While a rose can be bought,

Money can't buy the thought

The giver has for the recipient.

 

“It's not the gift but sentiment

that is valued and cherished,

that forges sweet memories.

 

“I'm adorned with all sorts of jewelry—

Silver, gold, etc.—too heavy to carry,

No fun having them,

To me, they are a burden.

 

“A gift of rose that comes from the heart

Is more than enough to assuage my hurt.

 

“I have tried indulging in many things to seek joy and bliss,

None gave me what I wanted; 

Instead, I put myself at risk.

 

“Indeed, all I need to make my day complete

Is a red velvety rose—fresh, fragrant, and crisp.

 

“I would love to compare myself to a rose,

Smiling and cheerful;

and to my pals, I'm close.

 

“But I am not the woman to be fooled;

I have thorns to save my personhood.

A rose, that I am, is a femme fatale;

To all my enemies, I can be brutal."

 

Learn to respect a rose or any kind of flower.

If abused, it has also the power—

The power to pose danger.

Image by amirali mirhashemian

An Epistle to the Ace of Hearts

Written by  Dr. Sebastian Flanders-Cline, dps, mba, dba, mpsy, rpsy, psy.d

February 28, 2024

SONNET 1

 

The green and blue planet we call Earth,

There, a soul passes by like a shooting star,

Where goodbyes are not always happy,

And farewells are not always forever.

 

The healing grass and the loneliness call birth,

A star of endless possibilities,

You and Heaven now resides in the cosmos,

Where constellations are scattered.

 

Watch over us from paradise afar,

Where resting place and peace is forever.

 

SONNET 2

 

A green pasture on the blue planet Earth,

Innocence lies in the mouth of a babe.

A mother’s pride due to the coming birth,

While a father names a piglet Gabe.

 

A journey inside the womb turns to a tomb,

Darkness resides in an empty bat cave.

A herd of pigs “starts digging to exhume,”

Hunger and thirst stand in a yard of graves.

 

A healing grass, and loneliness called moon—

Together create a light of blade grass.

A double-edged blade beneath a monsoon,

Shelters a lake of shattered glass.

Image by Aaron Burden

Poetry and Voluptuousity

Written by  Maximo Tumbali

February 22, 2024

First and foremost, a poet is a lover of words.

His tool is to express emotions he can't hoard.

Out of words, he builds his own unique language.

Oftentimes, it's figurative and deep, akin to an adage.

 

He employs the same to pen poetry to vent his sensitivity and creativity.

He sees beauty in ugliness as harmony sounds in a blatant mess.

Being a poet, he seems endowed with a third eye.

He knows what's in the mind, and if the heart is a lie.

 

His sensitivity pierces through every phase of reality,

And reveals what is concealed for everyone to see.

I think to myself, what a wondrous feeling to be a poet!

So expressive of things that touch almost all aspects.

 

Honestly, I'm in deep romance with words,

Decorating my life and my own world.

I eat them for breakfast, lunch, and supper;

Every poem I create is delectable and super.

 

Figures of speech are the main ingredients.

Reading my verses is worth an experience.

They tickle not only the physical, but also the spiritual.

But at times, they can be raunchy if not very sensual.

 

Like any other human, 

I can't free myself of voluptuosity;

I'm quite different since I can derive it 

From my own poetry.

Image by Aline de Nadai

Love and Rain

Written by Maximo Tumbali

February 10, 2024

Love and rain go together.

Endowed with great power,

They make a perfect match.

Love and rain are cool to touch—

Wet, smooth, soft, cool, and fresh.

Love blossoms in the rain at its best

When lovers excitedly make love under the rain.

In total nudity, their bodies are entwined,

While their arms crawl around them like a vine.

As the rain pours on them, their passion intensifies

Where torrid romance becomes paradise.

Love without rain is parched like a desert—

Worse than a pair of lovebirds dejected.

Flowers need rain to bloom,

So does love to truly boom.

Love and rain coexist

For romance to persist.

Pedestrian Path

My Self-Doubt Dialogue

Written by Daisy Jane Lor

January 27, 2024

I have been chasing things, 

Not knowing when to stop.

I just know that I have to go on,

For I know this will be worth it.

 

Perhaps, God lays obstacles in my path,

Knowing I’ll overcome them all;

For God believes in me,

And His grace is sufficient.

 

Will everything make sense?

At this moment, I cannot say.

Maybe someday, these struggles 

Will lead me to the path of eternity.

 

Wish I have someone to share 

My hopes and aspirations with.

But God’s presence suffice

In this valley of confusion.

 

My Lord, though I may not understand,

I trust that everything has a purpose.

For You believe in me,

And I trust in You.

School Building

international day of education
Melodies of Inspiration

Written by Diana Marie Pablo

January 24, 2024

For my Speech Professor, Mrs. Estrellita Flores:

 

No matter how the bells ring,

that's how we knew

she's just around,

in her gypsy white skirt.

 

Adorned with charms and chimes,

her rope belt sings,

and her white espadrilles,
flimsy in gold or silver,

are in harmony with her melody.

 

And oh, her long, curly blond hair

with long ribbons

or cute dainty clips–

how could one possibly miss her?

 

She's that Spanish-looking,

shamelessly English-speaking,

unapologetically old, rich woman

from a posh village
of big money and houses.

 

She’s my speech prof in college,

whose words embraced me,

yet questioned, "What happened to you?"

and left a lasting impression on me.

I could forget all but her–

the way how she embraces every word,

and pronounces every letter,

as if they're stars from a dark sky
flickering with light.

 

If only I could see her again,

and ask her if I could borrow her sparkle,

or if I could shine just like her,

wearing the same from head to toe.

​

Oh, how I wish I could be like her!

I wish I could talk to her again, 

and tell her she's the reason 

why I chose this path I’m taking.

​

To my muse who inspired me to do best:

Someday we'll see each other again.

Someday we'll both hear
that same sweet sound–

a sound that is yours and yours alone.

Astronomical Clock

Time and Time Again

Written by Maria De Guzman

January 13, 2024

The seconds have been consuming,

But here I am, glorifying Your Name.

Even if I am looking for many answers

To the many questions

That always leave me hanging

Whenever I experience chaos in my life,

Time and time again.

 

The minutes have been passing,

But here I am, trying to get closer to You,

Trying to build a foundation of love.

Whenever I gaze at the Cross,

This Cross upon which You built a foundation,

Just to make myself believe

That Your Sacrifice

Is something I cannot surmise,

But leaves me appreciating Your Love,

Time and time again.

 

The hours have been gaining more momentum,

But here I am, trying to slow down,

Beholding what is left of me,

To relive the many graces You have given me,

Delving into the reality

That the dreams I wish to come true

Have always come from You.

 

The days have been slowly passing by,

But here I am, trying to look for Your Will,

Looking for a glimpse of Your Blessings,

Searching for a snippet of Your Truth,

Only to discover the depths of Your Grace

Have always been revealed
Through the many people You have given me

To make me realize

That I am less alone.

Then, I rejoice over the fact

That whenever I experience great trials, 

Time and time again,

You will be there,

You will provide.

I will see You in the many people who have suffered;

I will encounter Your Presence
In the many people who have experienced loss;

I will relive Your Love

In the same love I gain from my loved ones.

You will make all things new.

You will make me stronger, Oh Lord.

Time and time again…

 

With this, Lord,

I see that this world is good,

Because I always have You in my heart,

In my being,

In my soul,

Time and time again.

 

For anyone who needs these words, may you resonate with them.

contemplating

Tatay Mentong

Written by Reese

August 27, 2020

I wish you were here.

I hope you can accompany me.

I hope you can still give me a warm hug.

I hope you can send me a message in my dreams.

 

I know you are now in peace.

I pray that you are now in heaven.

I know you are still guiding me.

I pray that you are still looking over us.

 

I was about to say, "Happy Birthday!"

But that doesn't sound right.

I should say, "Thanks for the memories,

that you have left with us who are still alive."

Cross and Clouds

To the Great I Am

Written by Sisang Batute

August 25, 2020

Like many, I know You are everywhere.

I can call upon Your powerful name any time, any day.

Yet, Your presence in the Most Holy Way 

which You have brought by Your own body and blood, 

I truly long for every day.

 

If there is one thing that I am most scared of today,

it is not COVID or any virus of that kind.

It is the grace to lose the desire to commune – 

to be one with you, O Dear Holy One.

 

When You left the earth, You promised us this:

The Apex, the Summit of our faith,

and it is there where You will always wait.

 

Men are frail; we easily yield to the bait.

But here's to the evil one: 

No threat can defeat the Great I AM.

His Words are alive, and His promises shall be done.

 

For a hungry soul, when soon fed, 

will come to life with much fervor.

Thus, I will wait and soon live 

a better, holier, and healthier life.

Sea Shore

To Someone I Dearly Missed

Written by Kai Alfonso

August 24, 2020

Waiting is patience's teacher.

Should I heed her call?

Countless endeavors

Fill me all day long.

 

Running empty corridors,

Nothing could be heard

To reach the destination,

To mark longings end.

 

What does it make of me

Extending my hands,

Holding on the seams

Of tomorrow's promises?

 

I'm running for shadows.

Questions flood my heart:

Why do I keep on holding?

Why do I keep the part?

 

Looking at the endless sea,

Somehow, someday,

Waiting is love's best friend,

Wiping the tears away.

 

Waves of laughter in the distance,

Something that lifts the soul,

Finally embracing,

Finally, the missing stops.

Pictures on Wall

Acrostic

Written by Sophia Ruth

August 23, 2020

I once saw this acrostic on the wall,

Bearing some stranger's name

On Valentine's theme.

 

The next day, the thread was longer –

Another stranger's name,

But clearly, love was its game.

 

The clever retorts, the quick banter, the rhyming words –

Cute, dreamy even.

Speak of the boldness of love, displayed not for fame.

 

Then I thought about you –

You whom I still yet to know,

Still a stranger on my own walls, too.

 

But maybe one day,

I'll also be that name – 

your acrostic that gives meaning to.

Heart Shape

Today, I Miss You

Written by Naysan Albaytar

August 21, 2020

The way your eyes light up

When you see me approach from a distance,

A look of wonderful surprise –

A promise fulfilled, a reunion of hearts.

 

Endless stories,

A barrage of questions,

Strings of remarks,

And just your full attention.

 

The way you fuss about the food –

Do I like it?

The way you check and recheck the bed --

Do I have everything I need?

 

The endless reminiscing

the barrage of emotions,

Strings of warm memories,

And our carefree conversations.

 

Do you remember?

I'm supposed to see you today – 'til this happened.

But until then, I'll just call to say hello.

Promise to hold you in my heart and never let go.

bottom of page