Loras - Hello Poetry

Kung papasukin mo ang isip ko, mapupunta ka sa isang kwarto na punong puno ng punit na papel ng siphayo at kabiguan- ‘di matapus-tapos na kwento natin, mga salitang gusto kong sabihin pero ‘di ko masabi, mga dapat kong ginawa pero natakot ako. Nangyari ang nangyari dahil tumigil tayo. Paano kung ‘di tayo tumigil? bakit tayo naging ulan na kapag may kulog at kidlat doon lang bubuhos? Babagsak sa bubong ng pangako. Paano kung hindi natin nilagyan ng bubong ang mga pangako? Paano kung hinayaan na lang natin makita ang ulap at araw?

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Feb 13, 2020

Feb 13, 2020 at 11:28 PM UTC

Loras

Kwarto, Bubong at Araw

Kung papasukin mo ang isip ko, mapupunta ka sa isang kwarto na punong puno ng punit na papel ng siphayo at kabiguan- ‘di matapus-tapos na kwento natin, mga salitang gusto kong sabihin pero ‘di ko masabi, mga dapat kong ginawa pero natakot ako. Nangyari ang nangyari dahil tumigil tayo. Paano kung ‘di tayo tumigil? bakit tayo naging ulan na kapag may kulog at kidlat doon lang bubuhos? Babagsak sa bubong ng pangako. Paano kung hindi natin nilagyan ng bubong ang mga pangako? Paano kung hinayaan na lang natin makita ang ulap at araw?

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Imagine the rain pauses before pelting the tattered ground, displaying its cold silver droplets like hanging Christmas ***** creating a firmament of paradise it's so beautiful that it hurts then it pours, as if the ocean marries the land, leaving the sky with scars and sorrow how does the rain stop if it means loving? the symphony of the raindrops falling paints the window of busy buses, city cars, and my patio---the things we always cling to

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Aug 11, 2019

Aug 11, 2019 at 6:06 AM UTC

Loras

Rain

Imagine the rain pauses before pelting the tattered ground, displaying its cold silver droplets like hanging Christmas ***** creating a firmament of paradise it's so beautiful that it hurts then it pours, as if the ocean marries the land, leaving the sky with scars and sorrow how does the rain stop if it means loving? the symphony of the raindrops falling paints the window of busy buses, city cars, and my patio---the things we always cling to

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It is, for me, the best remedy of preoccupied minds in expected rain of Saturday morning, my hands wrap around the bowl makes me feel present but nostalgic whilst ruminating the days that will come and the things that will never come

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Aug 11, 2019

Aug 11, 2019 at 6:02 AM UTC

Loras

Morning Champorado

It is, for me, the best remedy of preoccupied minds in expected rain of Saturday morning, my hands wrap around the bowl makes me feel present but nostalgic whilst ruminating the days that will come and the things that will never come

7

if the stars are falling, we collect it like it’s all ours, Putting it in a glass bottle like fireflies, to spark light to where it isn’t to be vanished when it’s morning their ignite has gone, by opening the lid you’ve seen the welts, on the inlet of your wrist, to leave mark to where it shoudn’t to not be vanished when you’re mourning

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Aug 11, 2019

Aug 11, 2019 at 5:59 AM UTC

Loras

Starlight

if the stars are falling, we collect it like it’s all ours, Putting it in a glass bottle like fireflies, to spark light to where it isn’t to be vanished when it’s morning their ignite has gone, by opening the lid you’ve seen the welts, on the inlet of your wrist, to leave mark to where it shoudn’t to not be vanished when you’re mourning

11

It was a cold saturday night turned sour like a glass of milk left overnight, when my bestfriend came back from outside he was with his earphones on playing his fave song called Mr Brightside I couldn’t fathom what running in his mind But i knew in his eyes decayed roots growing and ocean has become bleak “Where were you?” i asked even i knew the answer “ I just had to roam around this city that doesn’t remember our name so I can leave.” He said All but fear was rising I was weak before he left.

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May 27, 2019

May 27, 2019 at 10:00 AM UTC

Loras

Untitled

It was a cold saturday night turned sour like a glass of milk left overnight, when my bestfriend came back from outside he was with his earphones on playing his fave song called Mr Brightside I couldn’t fathom what running in his mind But i knew in his eyes decayed roots growing and ocean has become bleak “Where were you?” i asked even i knew the answer “ I just had to roam around this city that doesn’t remember our name so I can leave.” He said All but fear was rising I was weak before he left.

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