What was a storm
here and there
has become a tsunami
of catastrophes.
We are subsumed
by flowing disaster.
We open futile umbrellas
or furiously doggy paddle
to stay dry and afloat
without result.
The Ten Day Forecast
calls for doom, gloom,
and genocide with
a sprinkling of famine,
war, and pestilence.
Turn on the news,
everywhere the waters rise.
Sixty-five million refugees
bob upon the swells.
Compassion founders
like a  rusty ship.
Simple decency
takes a dive.
Don’t bother to
hold your breath.
Morally speaking,
we are all
fundamentally sunk.

Pa-minsan hindi natin alam kung paano natin panghahawakan ang isang bagay na pilit nating ikinukubli, hindi natin alam kung hanggang kailan natin magagawang itago.

Alam nating mali sa paningin ng iba, pero masasabihan ba nila ang isinisigaw ng ating puso?

Ipaglalaban mo ba yung nararamdaman mo gaya ng kasabihang "Kung mahal mo,  Ipaglaban mo."

Mamahalin mo pa din ba siya sa kabila ng salitang BAWAL? O isusuko mo nalang at pipigilan? Posible bang mapigilan? Kung alam **** totoo ang pagmamahal mo sa kanya, ituloy mo. Sabi nga ng iba, pag nagmahal ka wag **** isipin ang sasabihin ng iba dahil kapag nasaktan ka, masasaktan ba sila?

you can write poetry without being a poet
I feel Bukowski sometimes wrote without knowing how
or why
just because he was Poetry
like how Gogh painted for love
or for his next meal
not for me
not for we
like how an athlete runs for running
and a singer sings for singing
and a sinner sins for sinning
maybe you can't become a poet
it must be in you from the beginning