qyf
"poetry is flawed as its poet." / - qyf / / / When I heard someone, after reading my poems, dubbed me as "Dark Poet," me said to him that I could not agree enough. Then I winked, after I thanked him for the compliment. / / --- / All works are mine, / though sometimes I feel / that my poems own me / more than I own them. / / P.S.: / follow me on IG @qyflorentino / / / Keep safe. And seize every moment. ^^
Those
that
are
built
in
a
blink,
breaks
when
lust
to
life
fails
to
end.
Jan 23, 2022
Jan 23, 2022 at 5:48 PM UTC
She is a wildflower found here and there
A trumpet of joy, whenever, wherever
She is the daffodils on the sidewalk in spring
that flutter and giggle when teased by the wind
Her word is a warm scent of lily
That thaws the heart, a cold valley
She is fragrant and full but humble
She is white, red and yellow but blue
She walks along the snowdrop in the fields
Whittled by the roughness of the weeds
Her roots do not vacillate from reason
The pruning is needed, should she edge and mature
She is a brave but playful golden dandelion
Tempered by the labyrinth of season
She buds at the break of dawn
She is a woman— a bouquet of her person
Jan 23, 2022
Jan 23, 2022 at 3:59 PM UTC
Perhaps,
clouds are formed
from the dying candles
lit by earnest souls.
May 27, 2018
May 27, 2018 at 7:52 PM UTC
Eventually, everyone will depart their flesh
for they have reached the end of their race.
While some try to delay their rest,
others cut the thread themselves.
Life is just a phase,
everyone shall return to the mist,
all the memories will sink into the abyss,
and the world will again be an empty slate.
Feb 11, 2018
Feb 11, 2018 at 8:51 AM UTC
*You have a circle
where everything
is closed around
while I have a line
that has no size,
no width,
no length,
no depth,
and no one.*
@qyflorentino
Oct 14, 2017
Oct 14, 2017 at 8:41 PM UTC
I woke up at 4 a.m. freezing.
I thought I left the windows opened, but it wasn't.
Crawled back to bed, knees drawn to chest.
Grabbed my blanket while
thinking to myself, "God, I miss him."
@qyflorentino
Oct 13, 2017
Oct 13, 2017 at 4:55 PM UTC
*There was
he and I,
before
he and she.
Though now
he is with her,
I am still stuck
somewhere
in the middle of
how did we end?*
@qyflorentino
Jul 28, 2017
Jul 28, 2017 at 8:43 AM UTC
A love
which has not been hurt
is not to be called
as love yet.
@qyflorentino
Jul 26, 2017
Jul 26, 2017 at 10:22 AM UTC
When she speaks, her words
become bubbles in the wind;
hollow, weightless.
@qyflorentino
Jul 25, 2017
Jul 25, 2017 at 9:21 AM UTC
Too many reasons
but none sounds reasonable
at all.
©qyf
Nov 15, 2016
Nov 15, 2016 at 9:16 AM UTC