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A Watoot  Mar 2015
Aida 2.0
A Watoot Mar 2015
Aida, Aida, I'm not yet done.
Have you heard that I do not run?
I never ran away from my fears.
For you, I will never shed a tear.

Aida, Aida, did I get your attention?
She was lying to get your appreciation.
I never imagined you'd never figure out
A lie that screamed "I'm a lie!" out loud.

Aida, Aida, can you hear me now?
When you leave, I won't give a bow.
Unlike Boo who treated us well,
Even if he just smiled, that's all I can tell.

Aida, Aida, do you not understand?
You can't tell us where we should land.
Give us the freedom to explore our path,
for you to earn our respect, not wrath.

Aida, Aida, I'm no hater of yours.
I understand where you're coming, my words aren't forced.
You want us to reach the stars instantly.
But it doesn't work like that. No. Not that quickly.

Aida, why do you look down at us?
Aida, why do you think we're nothing?
Aida, I will never let this pass.
Aida, I won't let this keep on happening.
I just needed to vent now that I know the truth. I needed to let the world know that you are a ******* *******.  I wanted to shout that you are unfair.  Why do you look down at us?  Why do you treat the others well?  Why are you so unfair?
A Watoot  Mar 2015
Aida
A Watoot Mar 2015
So you tell us we do not amount to anything,
and scream in our brains that we are nothing.
But before you speak, have you seen,
The efforts we have been exerting.

Aida, before you tell us anything,
Please know what you are saying.
Have you seen the efforts we made outside these walls,
and all the things we've been through, we won't fall.

Aida, please listen, I know you're busy,
If you dig deeper, you'll smell something fishy.
We did this because you provoked us all
In order to accomplish, we must throw the ball.

Aida, do you know the story of our humble beginnings?
If not, you don't have the right to treat us like you're the one who's winning.
You are not one of us, Aida.
You will never be like us.
People will see all your flaws.  They will never really focus on what you do right.  It's always forgotten.  It will always be.
When you lose, they will never care about you.
And when you win, they share your glory.
Jandel Uy Mar 2017
Ikaw na babaeng sumasayaw sa dilim,
   Ikaw na nakakapit sa patalim:

Di ba nasusugat ang porselanang palad
    Na kasing lambot ng puwit ng sanggol?

Sa matalim na kutsilyong kinakapitan
      Ano mang oras hahatulan ng lipunan?

At sa higpit ng piring mo sa mata,
     Pasasaan pa't mabubulag ka na

Ikaw na babaeng gumigiling-giling,
   Iba't ibang laway ang pinanghihilamos gabi-gabi

Ang sugatan **** puso'y walang gamot
    Ngunit ang kandungan mo'y sagot

Sa mga problema ng mga lalakeng–
      Naghahanap ng panandaliang saya.

Ikaw ba, babaeng hubad,
   Naranasan mo na ba ang lumigaya?

Kumusta na ba ang anak mo sa una **** nobyo?
     Balita ko'y di ka na niya kilala.

Hindi ba't may tatlo ka pa sa probinsiya
   Na pinagkakasiya ang padala **** barya?

Naalala mo ba ang bilin sa 'yo
     Ni Karla na siyang una **** bugaw?

"Huwag **** bigyan ng puwang sa utak mo
      Ang sasabihin ng Inay mo.

Sasampalin ka niya, di ng palad niya,
     Kun'di sakit na dama ng isang Ina.

At iyon ang pinakamasakit
    Sa lahat ng puwedeng sumakit."

Ilang ulit mo na bang tinanong ang sarili
   Kung saan ka nagkamali?

Kung ilang liko ang ginawa
     Para mapunta sa hawlang 'sing dilim ng kuweba

Na pinamamahayan ng mga paniking
     Takot sa liwanag na magpapakita ng mga galos

Na bunga ng mga gabing kinukurot ang sarili,
     Tinatanong, hinihiling na sana'y bangungot lamang

Ang buhay nila sa dilim,
    Pasasaan pa't nasanay na rin.

Ikaw na isang mabahong lihim
   Ng mga mister na may misis na bungangera

Ha'mo na't sa iyo naman sila panatag
     Sa mga suso **** malusog, pinili nilang humimbing.

Ikaw na pantasiya ng karamihan,
   Ano ba ang pakiramdam ng pinagsasalsalan

Ng mga nagbibinatang hindi pa tuli,
      Ng mga lalakeng di kaya ang presiyo mo,

O ng matandang libog na libog sa mabango **** kepyas
      Ngunit nanghihiram ng lakas at tigas sa ******?

Saan ka na ba nakapuwesto ngayon?
    Sa Malate, Morayta, Quiapo, o Aurora?

Ilan na ba ang napuntahan mo?
  Ilan pa ba ang bibiyayaan mo ng iyong alindog?

Sa Makati Ave, Pasay, o sa Parañaque?
      Ha'mo na't langit pa rin naman ang dala mo

Kahit na alam ninyo ng Diyos
    Na nakaukit na ang pangalan mo sa impyerno.

Ikaw na babaeng walang pangalan,
   Ano ba ang itatawag ko sa 'yo?

Ilan na ba ang nahiram mo sa tabloid
  O sa mga artistang iniidolo mo?

Kathryn, Julia, Nadine, Meg, Yen, Anne
    Yna, Katya, Ara, Cristine, Kristine, Maui

Daria, Pepsi, RC, Susan, Gloria, Lorna, Aida, Fe
    Vilma, Sharon, Nora, Maricel, Dina

Ikaw na babaeng 'sing nipis ng balat ng sibuyas ang saplot
   Di ka ba nilalamig sa pag-iisa mo?

Ikaw na babaeng marumi,
  Sadsad na sa lupa ang lipad, saan ka pupunta?

Wala ka nang kawala sa dilim,
     Pasasaan pa't malalagutan ka rin ng hininga
        at  magpapasalamat sa biyaya.

Ikaw na babaeng bukod tangi,
   Ginawa **** lahat pero hindi naging patas ang mundo.

Lunukin mo na lang ang mga hibla ng pagsisisi
    Ipagdadasal kong huwag nang magdilim sa hawla mo.
Grand splendor
of the
Aida Opera
always leaves me
breathless

Deception, Love, Treason
Oh my heart
aches for her loss...

Justification for ones country
priests who deceived
so wrongly...

Suffocation
under the marble pillars
angel of death drawing near...

Oh God!
My heavenly kingdom!
wait!
my soul has arrived!


Now I can see it
O Nata Lux

The light.
Bob B Dec 2016
In contrast with the cold morning air,
The house was cozy and warm
As we all arrived to participate
Like worker bees starting to swarm.
The smell of pork and refried beans
Permeated the room.
The champagne bottles were chilling on ice--
How much did we consume?
Sally brought some egg McMuffins.
I thought, "Something's amiss:
Egg McMuffins and NO pan dulce!°°
What kind of party is this?"

But I wouldn't miss it--nope--for nada:
The annual Alonzo family tamalada.

The giant bucket of masa°°° awaited
Marisa's kneading hands.
While she kneaded the dough, the rest of us
Listened for Sally's commands.
After a brief champagne toast,
Our assembly line started.
Everyone had a job to do;
It wasn't for the faint-hearted.
Spreading the masa on the husks
Was a messy task.
I wondered, "How many will we make?"
But I was afraid to ask.

It wasn't very long before
Everyone in the casa
Was practically covered from head to foot
With fluffy tamale masa.
We spread and stuffed and folded and wrapped
While Sally entertained us.
The conversation, laughter, fun,
And champagne all sustained us.
The wonderful smells of lunch also
Encouraged us to work hard
Lest we be known as shirkers and our
Reputations be marred.

But I wouldn't miss it--nope--for nada:
The annual Alonzo family tamalada

After a few hundred tamales,
The masa was getting low.
I said, "Yay! We're almost done!"
But Alice said, "Oh, no.
That was just the pork; now we're
Making chile and cheese."
Blurry-eyed I held up my spoon
And said, "More hojas,°°°° please."
On and on we continued to work
Like hive bees making honey.
But it was worth it, for these tamales
Are more valuable than money.

Alice, Yvonne, Kathy, Yolie,
Aida, and Sally know why--
As do Marisa, Rebecca, Karen,
Marisol, Nancy, and I--
We always look forward to getting together
For laughter, fun, and cheer
And this spirited, heart-warming gathering
Whenever December is here.
Homemade tamales can't be beat
When made in our special fashion
With love, care, conviviality,
Warmth, goodwill and passion.

I wouldn't miss it--nope--for nada:
The annual Alonzo family tamalada.

__
°tamale-making party
°°Mexican sweet bread
°°°dough
°°°°(corn husk) leaves

- by Bob B
Totò  Jun 2017
Il fine dicitore
"Ninì Santoro, il fine dicitore,
maestro di eleganza e di maniere,
il re del music-hall, il gran signore,
debutta questa sera al Trianon".
Guardanno 'o manifesto, chi liggeva
penzava: certo chisto è n'artistone.
Tenevemo st'attore? E chi 'o ssapeva!
Stasera stessa mm' 'o vaco a ssentì.

C' 'o tubbo, 'a caramella e nu bucchino
d'avorio giallo, luongo miezo metro;
un fazzoletto bianco nel taschino,
ncuollo nu frack 'e seta blummarè

Tutt' 'o teatro illuminato a giorno,
na marcia trionfale comm' "Aida",
Santoro ascette e cu na faccia 'e corne
pareva ca diceva: "Eccomi qua!

Mo v'aggia fa vedè chi è Santoro,
il fine dicitore, il fantasista
ca quanno arape 'a vocca caccia ll'oro,
oro colato 'e primma qualità".

'O pubblico ansioso s'aspettava:
chi sa mo ch'esce 'a vocca a stu Santoro.
Ma ch'era ascì... Santoro 'ncacagliava,
faceva smorfie, zumpe e niente cchiù.

Nun fernette nemmeno 'o riturnello
d' 'o primmo raccuntino d'avventure,
quann'uno arreto a me: "Santò, si bello!"
('Ndranghete!) E allazza nu pernacchio 'e nuvità.

Fuie cumm'a nu signale 'e na battaglia,
mancava poco e nce scappava 'o muorto:
'e sische mme parevano mitraglia.
Santoro nun putette continuà.

"Ll'artista" se facette 'a mappatella:
'o frack, 'o tubbo, 'o fazzuletto bianco,
s'annascunnette pure 'a caramella.
Dicette: "Aggio sbagliato,.. Ch'aggia fà?".

Trent'anne so passate 'a chella sera
che il fine dicitore fantasista
pe fforza avette chiudere 'a carriera
a beneficio dell'umanità.

Aiere steva scritto into 'o giurnale che:
"dopo varii e lunghi appostamenti
è stato assicurato un criminale
alla Giustizia delle Autorità".

E chi era, neh, stu disgraziato?
Santoro... il dicitore fantasista,
ca, pe magnà, al furto s'era dato
o pover'ommo pe putè campà.

Io penso che fu l'epoca sbagliata;
trent'anne fa tutto era n'ata cosa.
Oggi che il nostro gusto s'è cambiato
Santoro fosse na celebrità.
Butch Decatoria May 2016
Aida* on stage,
brown queen's divine voice must climb,
for love redefines.
*The premiere female African American Opera Soprano. (We share the same Birthday Aug.10 - "Day of The Velvet Voice")*

— The End —