Never fall in love with a poet.

Her familiarity with words
How she can gather and pick the best of consonants and syllables from the white picket fenced field that has a sign near the entrance labeled  "alphabet"
and with this she may offer you a bouquet of sentences carefully articulated and placed in a specific manner to look effortlessly marvelous

How she will always fall asleep with a thought
And turn them into thought infused dreams
And then churn this mixture in the mechanisms within her
Bring forth a lovely array of vocabulary that sounds like rhythmic melodies to your ears

Never fall in love with a poet.

She will know your words all too well
Because she knows words all too well
She knows that they aren't always what they seem
And no matter how many words you offer back to her in return
A lesson is engraved within her heart which solely believes
that words can not be given alone

The beauty of words must be matched with the strength of actions
Less your beautiful words will be nothing but a distraction
Without the fibers of action to hold your words together, to wrap her up in a cloth of security and warmth
Everything you will say and have said before is just
sweet poetry

And she, my dear, is a poet
Who has too many a poem tucked away in the deepest corners of her heart
What good will just your poem do?

Alam ko naman kung ano ang patutunguhan.
Ngunit paano makararating kung ang bawat hakbang ay mas mabigat pa sa mga delubyong pasan?

Depressed dreaming death,
Deadly drive dare defer dreams.
'Dear... death' deemed divine?

Race me to the hilltop
I'd love it more than anything
any little thing
any little thing
any little thing
There there'd be buried treasure
we'll find some, if you like
I'd want nothing more.
We'd spin around
looking 'round:
trees, birds, bees and whatnot;
the sun and shadows like clockwork;
any little thing we find.
When we talk, let's not ruin
the hilltop peace.
When we talk, let's talk in short words
give each other
one-letter poems
or one-poem letters.
Then we'd talk of nothing more
and only the grass underneath
moves, waves, dances and speaks
formless, shadowless,
weightless under the black canvass of stars.
Then, again we'd run.

Racing pounding door smudge collect dodge bridge going done and ending happy ending ends no no no no no no no no no no no
Wishes wished and done and never done and wished and thanked grateful graceful one. and. Grace and one never done and still with stillness rise raising rights and gaining tight flights waiving wish and wanting none here here and hear hiss his own his own blown and moan with the right and right in righting rights writing nice and accurate writs and rose smelling prose down wells of spew and asswiped

i dont know if i hate the whole world

or the whole world hates me