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Once upon a time there was a man who fed on other people's fears.
He soaked them up, he seasoned them with myth and stirred them up for years.
The stew he made was glutinous. It clung
To one's intestines and it stank like dung.
The gaseous mess oozed venomous stink
That fuddled minds and made it hard to think.

This fog of hatred , fear and false report
Made careful thought
Impossible for some,
But others battled on.
They had begun in youth a search for clarity and truth
And soldiered on through media hype and politician's babble,
Ignorance and greed ( the fodder of the rabble and the man it loved; the man who spoke for it,
The man who made it fine to hate).
He promised all a blissful state where each would live and call his own
A paradise that he could have alone
For who would share it?
Who could share?
As the wind
Blew her skirt up
There was so
Much more to see

I never new
Our government
Could be so ****
  ******...
It's hard to support the establishment after you've seen her naked.
Bakit sinta ako’y / sawi, bigong-bigo
Sa pagsintang lanta, / tuyo’t walang kibo?
Ang ‘yong mga titig / ay titig ng bungong
Patay at may dalang / sumpang mapagtampo …

Bakit nga ba sa’yong / mga gawang mali
At sa paglililong / hindi ko hiningi
Ay dagling nawala / ang dati kong ngiti?
Kaya’t sawing puso’y / hilam sa pighati …

Bakit din binalot / ng lumbay at sama
Ang pusong umibig / sa mula pa’t mula?
Dahilan sa iyong / kasalanang gawa
Naglaho ang tamis, / namatay, nawala …
Kung puwede lamang / na siya'y limutin
Di na sana noon pa'y / wala ng paggiliw
Kung puwede nga lang / itago't ilihim
Ang kanyang balaning / umakit sa akin
Di sana tuyo na'ng / nunuyong damdamin
At ang pagluhog ko'y / noon pa natigil
Kung puwede lamang / na di maging dahil
Ng kasawian ko / na siya'y ibigin
Di sana tapos na / ang kundiman namin
At lipas nang lahat / ang aking hilahil
Kung puwede lamang / na siya'y limutin
Ang sugat ng puso'y / ampat na marahil




* Ang panandang / ay tanda ng sesura (caesura sa Ingles)
One job
For me
To do
Meet flesh
Go through

Sean Hunt  June 13 2016
HA!!  The title of this is almost
the size of the poem :)
never
abandon
your dreams
and

they
will never
abandon
you
Jenga should only be played
when you are absolutely sober
Her caboose
makes me
never want
to leave
the station
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