A blind poet walks by borrowed sight,
His fingers tread the flow of the air.
He gathers worlds in syllables of light
And hears the shape of faces everywhere.
A deaf painter stands before the dawn,
Her colors speak where sound has never been.
She listens with her eyes to what is drawn,
The hush of blues, from the ocean’s sheen.
He loves her in the rhythm of her steps,
In pauses where her presence softly stays.
He writes her name in metaphors he keeps,
And admires her through words in every way.
She loves him in the tremor of his hands,
In how his breath leans gently into verse.
She paints his silence, tries to make it stand,
Yet cannot hear the love within his words.
Between them lives a feeling pure and wide,
Too vast for tongue, too fragile for a sign.
Love waits unheard, unseen, yet undenied,
A truth both hold, but neither can define.
Dec 17, 2025
Dec 17, 2025 at 11:31 PM UTC
My armor, forged throughout the years,
Slowly built, piece by piece,
Hardened by challenges and failures,
Was actually a shackle bounding me deep.
The armor I shaped with countless layers,
Layers of sorrow, guilt, hatred, and fear,
Held the emotions, that once protected me,
But also restrained my entirety.
For years I donned it faithfully,
Believing safety came from its weight,
That it protected the fragile soul within,
When it was really a shell I needed to shed.
The impenetrable armor that none could break,
Was cracked open by your words alone.
Words that revealed the hidden pain and suffering,
Also melted the layers of deception that clung within.
Your words changed something in me,
Urged me to look at myself bare,
Sifting through the depths I long avoided,
To finally see the “Me” fully unchained.
You made me understand
That the armor I carried,
Never protected me—
It only restrained me.
Dec 4, 2025
Dec 4, 2025 at 2:57 PM UTC
Maybe someday, we'll see each other again
when the trees bloom once more
we'd be meeting in that same park we used to go
under that maple tree where we used to sit
Maybe someday, we'll see each other again
alone, sitting at a corner, then our eyes meet
shock turns to happiness, smiling, both of us
then we'd sit across each other, asking how we've been
Maybe someday, when skyscrapers fill the sky
I'll see you walking, hand in hand, with a girl
She looks like you, the way both of your smiles match
Her eyes sparkle like the way yours do
Maybe someday, when I'm away from home
I'll visit the places we once dreamed of visiting
Taking pictures of myself, alone and reminiscing
And if ever we meet again I'd tell you that I went there
Maybe someday, where you're smiling brightly
With another man, who can make you laugh
I'll be looking at you from afar
In the restaurant we always used to eat at
Maybe someday, I'll see you again,
wearing a light dress, with a baby in your arms
and you'll see me, and you'll just smile
and I'd smile back, smiling for your happiness
Maybe someday, when I can forget you
I'll also be happy, I'd find myself a pet or two
Visiting friends and family, going on trips
Trying to forget you and move on
Maybe someday, I'll be fine again
I'll see you, and it won't hurt as much as before
I'd talk to you again, and ask how you've been
And I'd share to you all the things I have seen
Maybe someday, when I return to this town
And you'll be there, sitting under that maple tree
And maybe, I'd have the courage to tell you
Tell you the things I couldn't say
Maybe someday I could,
Maybe someday,
Maybe.
Someday.
May 9, 2021
May 9, 2021 at 5:50 PM UTC
Let me bathe you,
Using the spring of our youth,
Let me warm you up,
With the heat from our bodies.
Let me embrace you,
Like how a robe covers you whole,
Let me be near,
Nearer than your shadow.
Let me undress you,
Like how the sun thaws out snow,
Let me touch you,
Much more than how we touched each other before.
Delay my senses,
Fill me with love, joy, and ecstasy,
Numb my lips,
Make them redder than cherries.
Sail my ship,
Until we reach the forbidden lands,
Sail until we can't no more,
Until we reach the verdant shore.
Mar 3, 2021
Mar 3, 2021 at 1:10 AM UTC
You were the sweetest demise that led me into a valley of roses. Where you said that you are the only rose and the others are thorns. The sublime symphonies of your laughter echoes through out each quarter of that ****** field.
You are the serene before the calamity that once gave me calm, but now made me torned. The great yin and yang where they were the Bad inside the Good, and you were Good in spite you were bad.
You were the delicious flavour that permeates in my tongue, you melt my entirety and leave me with bitter aftertaste, desperately searching for sweetness that you once took.
You were the joy that now became my agony. That every word you said about the stars now resonate within my mind everytime I look at them. The stars resemble you oh so, you were dazzling yet you were already dead.
You familiarized me with your scent, that when you left, I still remember it. That those memories where our bodies intertwine and your sweat mixes with mine - leaving me longing for your touch.
You conditioned me to always follow you, now that when you’re now gone, I don’t know where to go. What I thought was my destination, was only meant to serve me a lesson - a lesson that came as a person.
Nov 24, 2019
Nov 24, 2019 at 2:50 AM UTC
Dear Mom and Dad
Did I make you proud?
Of the things I did
Won’t you make a sound?
Dear Mom and Dad
It’s lonely you know.
That I’m here all alone
Not knowing where to go.
Dear Mom and Dad
I miss you so
When the night glows
The tears, they show.
Dear Mom and Dad
How are you up there?
I hope you two are happy
So that it’s easier to bear.
Dear Mom and Dad
I love you both you know
But why so early
That you had to go?
Dear Mom and Dad
Oh how I miss you so
Dad’s big embrace
And Mom’s “I told you so”
Dear Mom and Dad
I dream now and then
That someday, somehow
We’ll all be together again.
Nov 24, 2019
Nov 24, 2019 at 2:48 AM UTC
A Poet uses words as weapons,
Using only his ink and pen,
Stories that’ll last for eons,
Are merely waiting to happen.
For a Poet never uses a sword,
Containing a will that will never yield,
Cause not even a fortress or a shield,
Could block the power of his word.
A Poet never practiced the bow,
Yet his lines hit you like an arrow.
A Poet never did ****** a spear,
Yet the force of words could let out a tear.
For a Poet never uses war-like things,
For the pain that his word brings,
No matter where you go or hide,
It always hits you on the inside.
Oct 30, 2019
Oct 30, 2019 at 7:45 PM UTC
We both were aboriginals.
Knowing nothing but to rely on primal instincts, we only knew how to devour. Using tactics on how to conquer each other as if beguiled by omniscience.
Carnal instincts propagate as we continue to intertwine our own bodies, matching each other’s cadence. Not even Clausius nor Thomson or even Carnot could determine the Temperature that both our bodies emit.
Lost in the heat of the moment, we continue to confront in sensual interaction, as if taken a drug that took us high.
We both let out melodious keys that resound symphonically. As if tranqualized, we lay there, our bare skin covered in sparkling translucent sweat. Our eyes coincide, within them, a faint trace of sweetness mixed with heat and love. Our cheeks, colored like plump cherries on early spring.
Lastly we close our eyes and drift within the dreamland. Guided by Hypnos himself, we transverse the foreign land, with nothing but the burning memory that made us melt like candlesticks that once held a majestic flame.
Oct 8, 2019
Oct 8, 2019 at 12:17 AM UTC
Oh magandang binibini, ako’y lubos na nagagalak dahil sa ating mga mumunting palitan ng mga mensahe. Kahit na ito’y di masyadong impormatibo, ako’y lubos na nasisiyahan sa ating mga pinag-uusapan.
Oh binibini, ang bawat ngiti na iyong pinapakita ang siyang nagbibigay sigla sa matamlay kong araw. Ang iyong mga tawa ang siyang nagsisilbing musika sa aking mga tenga, na walang kapantay sa tinig at ganda.
Kahit na sa kakaunting panahon na tayo’y nagkilala, para na kitang kaibigan na kay tagal nang kilala. Ang bawat palitan ng mga letra’t salita ay may kasamang pagmamahal at tuwa. Kaya ang mga salitang ito’y kusang lumalabas sa aking dila.
Oh binibini, nawa’y mapansin mo ang mga problema na dulot mo, sa pagka’t gabi-gabi nalang ako’y di makatulog pag na-aalala ang mga ngiti **** sintamis ng preskong bino at ng mga titig **** kasing init ng siling labuyo.
Nawa’y sa pag idlip mo’y mapaghinipan mo ako, ng ako rin ay makadayo sa mundong tayo lang dalawa ang nandoon. Kung saan malayo tayo sa mga mata ng di nakakaintindi, at sa mga salita ng di nakaka-alam.
Oh binibini, lagi mo sanang tandaan, na kahit saankaman ay laging nasa sayo ang puso ko. Na kahit bagyo ma’y dumaan at mga lindol ay maranasan, na ang pagtingin ko ay laging sayo lamang.
May 12, 2019
May 12, 2019 at 1:58 PM UTC
Since when did Death become an art you can practice?
Since when did Suicide become a trend you can go with?
Do you find beauty in the death of a poor victim?
Or do you see contentment in those eyes that are suffering?
The world has become a place where we can objectify.
Not even you or them, neither he or she can testify.
That the world has changed than what we came by.
That in front of problems and mishaps no one would clarify.
The world has become a scary place can’t you see?
Where we need a trend to clean, but isn’t it our responsibility?
Where women are blamed why they are *****
Does it really matter? What they wear, the color, size or shape?
Where becoming true will make you a freak.
Where if you’re silent then you’re weak.
Do others find solace in the face of injustice?
Or is it that what the others has practiced?
Why do we continue of romanticizing wrong things,
Do we not think of the consequences it brings?
To the people around us, whether they be young or old.
Should we say the things that are better left untold?
Yes we don’t know what the future may hold,
But we can change it, cause we are the mold.
What we do in the process changes the outcome.
Yet it solely depends on what we choose to become.
Mar 13, 2019
Mar 13, 2019 at 10:48 AM UTC