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Gidgette
UnReality    Much Love and Beauty to anyone who looks
Bridgid P Newman-Henson
Seattle,WA   

Poems

Engineer Mikay Aug 2016
Una abi ko lain ka
Gale pareho ka man sa ila
Una abi ko ikaw masaligan
Gale puro ka man kabutigan

Una abi ko buot ka
Gale kung tulog ka lang sa kama
Una abi ko ok lang nga layo ko
Gale ang lapit amu gid ang gusto mo

Una abi ko makaya ko ang sakit
Gale tagipusuon ko daw ginalukit
Una abi ko ako lang gid sa kabuhi mo
Gale may ibulos ka kung wala ko

Una abi ko palangga mo gid ko
Gale ako lang ang gapalangga sa imo
Una abi ko ikaw na gid...
Gale sa ulihi mahibi lang ko sa kilid.
Another Ilonggo Poem.. Viva mga Hiligaynon sa Bacolod!
Engineer Mikay Jan 2016
Sala bala ang mangimon
Kapin pa pag may rason
Buang na ina bala dayon
Kung nagpalangga ka lang halin sa tagipusuon

Adlaw2x himuon ang tanan
Mabal-an lang ang kabutigan
Madakpan lang nga ginaluiban
Sang nobyo nga ginahalungan

Kung wala gid man dapat pangimunan
Ti ngaa indi gid mahimo palayuan
Kung wala gid man sila
Ngaa himu-himuan ka pa storya nila

Kung sobra ka man sa reaksiyon
Ti kay bali2x man ang rason
Kung gulpi ka lang daun gadesisyon
Sa ulihi ikaw pa ang kontrahon

Tuod nga indi mo gid malikawan
Mga tawo nga indi ka gid maintsindihan
Di bala mas mayo na lang ang imunan
Kis-a sa panghatag-hatag ka lang sa iban
Ilonggo Poem boredom moments
Martin Narrod  Apr 2014
Mew
Martin Narrod Apr 2014
Mew
as soon as these blue speckled
socks go, that's it. A new bright black death.A solemn weir on a stark horizon.Give me a reason to wear color. My hueless affidavit
runs me into the Earth, where I sprout up
a pallid keb- brain orf'd, you could drag my etiolated ebon
body through the ovine fold or take me to the theater. When I was just a minor teg, I sheared my mim kip, I fuckinggave it to you outright. In this little
cote my wan mien nigrifying; my calamitous black, quaffed full of congou in demitasse, of souchong & saucers. My atrous wethered body albicantly degenerating in the atrous sun. I'm crusting over with wanness and you, you're fortifying in the cwm where I used to yaff and stray. Your ovivorous hunger,something I never knew, when first you came for my jecoral flesh, just another bot digging through my soft toison. Like Dall's Prometheus being sheared from the flock-you cut me away. In this drab and achromic world, you put the wanness in my flesh, the gid in my heart. Still.
Just these blue socks are left.
Written Sitting against an Oak tree outside of a family friend's farm in Fond du Lac, Wisconsin