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 Nov 2015 Fd Dural
RH 78
Our society
 Nov 2015 Fd Dural
RH 78
Malnourished children
Them sunken eyes.
Impoverished families
With no supplies.
Homeless and begging.
No safety net.
Jobless youth
Riddled with debt.
Neglected elders
They deserve more
Our society, crippled with knees to the floor
 Oct 2015 Fd Dural
RH 78
Last orders
 Oct 2015 Fd Dural
RH 78
Tip tap tip tap.
Diagonal shadows dance across the steering wheel as the relentless rain forms and overflows.
A moments silence.
Chrome flickers under the street light.
The shooter cocked and ready.

An innocent marked man sits upon a bar stool merrily sipping a pint of Guinness in the pub.
Sticky patterned carpet under foot from many a spilt beer.
Scented ***** wafts out of the boozers pores towards the masked assassins.
A couple hog the fruit machine, the jackpot only a pound away.

10 shots ring out leaving the punters ducking for cover.
Ears pierced by the noise.
Screams.
The assassins shadows are gone long before anyone could bear witness to the terrifying act.

Body slumped, but alive.
Burnt fleshy smoke emanating from the slug holes in an innocent mans abdomen.
Pint toppled adding another stain to the collection on the old carpet.

Wrong target.
Wrong man.
Wrong bar stool.
A pub regular in Manchester (UK) was shot by mistake because he was sitting on the intended target's bar stool.

The 49-year-old victim suffered seven gunshot wounds to his torso when two masked men walked into the Ashley Brook pub in Salford and fired at least 10 shots.

It is believed the man was an innocent victim of the attack on Bank Holiday Monday night, May 26 2014.

A source said: "The victim was unlucky because he was sat in the wrong place and physically looks a bit like him.”

Gun crime is on the increase in the UK.
 Oct 2015 Fd Dural
estelle deamor
You were sealed in a box when I first saw you
I was hesitant to approach you, since you seem far beyond my reach
But the red tea I’m holding don’t excite me anymore
So I tried, though I’m uncertain
Pouring out the hot water, your scent captivated me
I felt your warmth as I held my cup
And when I had that one first sip
Can’t wait to have another and another
So invigorating, so stimulating
Moments with you made me alive again
I wanted another cup of you
But I had to sit back and wait
At least I know, your box is now opened
Personification Poetry Collection No. 2
This is how you stop thinking of that someone.
 Sep 2015 Fd Dural
RH 78
Why is there a little boy lying on the beach?
Washed up.
Lifeless.
All for a new life too far to reach?

Why is there a little boy lying on the beach?
Terrorists
Heartless.
What happened to the human rights we all preach?

Why is there a little boy lying on the beach?
Traffickers.
Gangs.
Displacing people no home and no speech.

Why is there a little boy lying on the beach?
A son.
No future.
We hang our heads and weep!
Broken hearted and deeply affected by pictures I saw in the news depicting the lifeless body of a little boy no older than three who was photographed washed up on the shore line of Turkey. The result of further illegal human smuggling, people trafficking promising to get families to Europe on a false promise. All too often, people are put into small boats unable to sustain the weight of all the people put upon it and not fit for purpose. This is yet another shocking event in the wake of atrocities taking place in North Africa where the displacement of millions of innocent people continues. Governments are too busy counting the pennies and quarrelling amongst themselves in addition to wasting precious time as gangs and smugglers take advantage of the situation by sending people to their death profiting from the desperation of families searching for a place to call home. When will this end? RIP to the little boy, his brother and mother who all perished.
 Sep 2015 Fd Dural
estelle deamor
Please, for once, just look his way
He waited for this day
Or else
He’ll go home
To hide in his tomb
And write his tears away

Please, for once, just give him a shot
He worked hard for this slot
Or else
He’ll go crazy
If you, he can’t marry
And it’s going to be your fault
My simple poetry response to the awesome poem entitled: "Don't fall in love with a poet" by Wolf Spirit. Dedicated to all hopeless romantics out there.
 Sep 2015 Fd Dural
inggo
Kandila
 Sep 2015 Fd Dural
inggo
Ako ay isang kandila na may sindi
Isang ihip lang ng alaala mo wala na akong silbi
 Sep 2015 Fd Dural
estelle deamor
I remember this time of the day
In the front yard where it's almost dusk
Swarms of mosquitoes buzzing in
We need to close the windows hurriedly
Or else they'll prey on us tonight

Then Nanay, with her broom without a stick
Will burn the dry leaves on the ground
Which she gathered together with
Abandoned paper planes and plastic kites
As the sun slowly disappears from our sight
Reminiscing those afternoons at our previous house in Caibaan. Those familiar afternoons before Typhoon Haiyan happened. Those familiar afternoons before I left Tacloban.
 Sep 2015 Fd Dural
Dr Peter Lim
TO ALL POETS

Each of us is different
yet we are (bottom-line)
the same
true to self
that's what really  matters
words are the joys and tears of our heart
none can stop them--never, ever
--
 Sep 2015 Fd Dural
estelle deamor
The river water
May each have their own separate passage
Will always find its way in a similar course
Going to that meeting
In the middle of the ocean

I am a river water
You are another river water
A hope, I will keep holding on

A hope, that you and I
Will be one ocean
Coming that moment of meeting
Of us-the river waters
I translated this for a request from the original Filipino-Waray poetry (Siday) entitled "Ikaw, Ako, Ug An Tubig Han Sapa" by my good friend FD

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