Charred CoalTatlong oras nang nag-iisip, nakatunganga,Nakatingin sa isang blangkong papel.Upos lang ng sigarilyo ang katabi,Nagmumunimuni sa madilim na gabi.Tunog lang ng kuliglig ang naririnig,Lamig lang ng ulan ang nararamdaman.Habang inaangat ko ang aking kamay, iniisip ko ang iyong mukhaKinuha ko ang aking lapis, sa blangkong papel idinampa.Sa ilalim ng madilim na bumbilya,Iginuhit ko ang iyong mukha.Kahit ikaw ma'y hindi ko pa nakikita,Mukha mo'y kabisado ko na.Ang pungay ng iyong mga mata, ang haba ng iyong buhok,Ang mala-rosas mong labi, at makinis mong balatAng malalambot mong mga pisngiKung saan aking labi sana'y dadampi.Ang tibok ng puso ko'y bumibilisHabang ang iyong katawan nama'y iginuguhitAng iyong mga kurbang walang patidNa tunay naming nakakaakit.Ilang oras na rin ang lumipasNang simulan kong igalaw ang aking lapisNatapos na ang ulan, tahimik na rin ang hanginAt ang haring araw ay lumalabas na rin.Ang iyong guhit, na buong gabi kong inatupagNatapos na rin,
You. Got. This.I see these people all over the place –Depressed, anxious, confused, confounded even –And I see them, all uncertain, not knowing what will happen nextI see them trying to be brave or just accepting the fearI see them breaking and then pretending not to be brokenI see them, and I have only three words:First word: YouSecond person pronoun, indicating the person to whom I am speakingIt’s every person, just as it is specific to the one, making no discernment between the twoSecond word: GotA word indicating possession, ownership, belongingAlso a word indicating inevitability;In this case You must own, You must possess, You must belong,And third word: ThisA word indicating that of which we are speaking,In this case all those things you think you are going to fail at,Or that you want to try but don’t think you can succeed in,Or all the things you wish you could have but don’t believe you’ll ever ownIn this case, You must possess all your d
Insanity needs companyand now I’m stuck here,pondering,how the walls becamea veiny sight-(could the cause be me calling outyour namein the middle of the night?)and alone I stand here,wondering,how my feet gotnailed upon this floor-(do you hold my ankleslike an anchordoes the shore?)and I know it’s been thirteen yearssince you were here at all,according to the hash marksdrawn in chalkupon the wall,but I can’tlet goof our memories,that hauntme everydayso for now,I’ll let the doc declare: Insanity needs company.
stay behind the yellow lineHere lies my heart:prone and wilted,at the centerof a black hole;taking, taking, takingbut never satisfied.
blizzardthere they are / a thousand unborn questions/ claustrophobic in their emptiness / shiveredbodies / asking what it is that compelsthe sky to jump / or why the sidewalk weepsfor it / always either falling / or trampledunderfoot / you too seek to find an answer/ though by other means
Rhyming in PoemsWhy do you all want to rhymeall the time?You don't need to do it,that's perfectly fine.You think it's so coolAnd it leaves poems gleaming,But it desecrates flowAnd can ruin the meaning.It's so bad to rhythm,It's like a bad dayYou wonder why you're notSleeping it away.You think it's the rootOf your writing's salvation,But we all will hate you,All parts of the nation.You think it sounds niceBut you don't even knowHow ruined the sound isHow badly it 'goes'.So the irony's over,Your poems can mend,I'll stop myself here,Before you meetYour end.
afterburnerslisten:pick up the slack andpick up that slack-jawed shadow of yoursdragging on wet pavement under your soles and hurry it along, we ain't got all day hereflex your white-boned fingers andtaut knuckles and pluck the soul fromits coffin in your slick throat the sun has better places to be than in your sky.
Brown Eyes Compliments, and AnalogiesBecause I'm sick of people saying there aren't any.Your brown eyes are like the deep intoxication of campaign wine, bubbling with hazing richness and expensive taste.Your brown eyes are like the color of mahogany wood- comforting and home-steady toughness that lets me know you will be the beams of supporting me.Your eyes remind me of Dove chocolate, smooth, creamy, delectable, and melting.The color of brown eyes remind me of mountain terrain and nature, something subtle, but beautiful in every form and season.Brown eyes make me think of Devil's cake, taunting and tempting, curtained by black lashes, the symbol of rich seduction.When brown eyes delve in love, they become the color of a leather book, promising a story of loyalty, long-life, and devotion.Your brown eyes remind me of mysterious secrets, dark to cover the pain of ignorance, opaque to cover to want of another.Brown eyes are like the stable ground, steadier and prepared to embrace you when you fall, into a nurturing a
Yes, I Have a PenisYes, I Have A PenisDo not assume (if I hold the door for you),that I am making a statementabout your inabilitiesto open the door for yourself.If you hold it for me,I'll say 'thankyou'.Do not assume (if I pay for the meal),that I am underestimatingyour earning capacityas a woman.If you invite me out for a meal,you're paying.Do not assume (if I defend your rights),that I am belittlingthe attempts that you have madeto defend your rights yourself.If you defend my rights,I'll consider you human.
ImmortalThe soul is strong.The soul is always seeking.It does not cower in spite of fear.For that is but the emotional dissonanceBetween the heart and the mind.Where the mind is subjected to bend and breakThrough any matter of malevolent or ill will,Or where the heart is easily starved by negligence...The soul never dies.It is loved.It is cherished.It is a reminder of who we are.Our souls are never to be forgotten.For we are immortal.
Chubibo - CarouselThe carousel of life goes a-roundIts passengers ride and alight(Either falling, or fading, or getting tired)It never stops spinning.Whirling in a circle of folly,A lesson learnedIs a lesson forgotten...