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asia  Aug 2018
broken open
asia Aug 2018
my heart is broken but open
fragile but closin.
my heart tht you chosen
will you embed it?
my stomach is turnin
it is fckn hurtin.
ig im overdosin...
so many emotions
how could you cheat.
the hole in my heart
my heart is explodin
ig were now opponents
blood is now overflowin...
and now tht i think.
why did i open?

now im completely broken...

but open.
a.l
hkr  Jan 2014
cells ig
hkr Jan 2014
snakes get a new skin
every one
two
three months

we get one every
one
two
three
four
five
six
seven years

in five year's time
i'll have a skin
you never
touched

and i'll still probably
be conflicted
on how i feel
about that.
Noone Mar 2021
So, it starts when he sends you a meme to start a conversation
Wow, what a weird yet clever way of communication
The meme was funny yet not funny, difficult for interpretation
Anyways, you send an emoji to keep up with the situation...
Then , he comments on your picture showing little admiration
You comment a smiley back, maybe a little persuasion??!
He views your IG story, to your grammar, he replies some correction
Then begins " hey, you kinda cute" , a little flirtation
Well, you reply back , with a little hesitation?!?
Then begins the daily WYD , HYD exaggeration.
The talks become fun with matched perception
Sure, he did his little stalking investigation
Then you stalk him back, with mere observation
He seems decent, maybe you could take him into consideration
The chat goes on for awhile, then you get a date invitation
First you make him work for you, even though you've got rush of excitation
Finally you agree to meet him, he already made the reservation
The day of the date came, called your friends for a little motivation
Then you met him, he was just like the one in your imagination
Talked a little, laughed a little, held hands too. He took the initiation...
Returned back with a glad face, was thinking of him, then your phone buzzed with a notification
" I had a great time with you. We should meet again!" , the ditto exclamation.
Started talking everyday, met regularly, was the beginning of a beautiful creation.
His lips were soft, he smelled so good, oh what a sensation!
Vibes matched , energies matched , what a transformation!
This could be her " happily ever after" Congratulations!
Was thinking of making this a sad one, but not every online story has to end sadly, isn't it???
JK Cabresos Sep 2016
Milyun-milyong mga blankong mukha,
pipintahan,  
papahiran ng pintora
ang iba’t ibang kastilyo ng pangarap.

Subalit sa paglipas ng panahon
ang mga kastilyong ito’y rurupok,
at sa isang ihip ng hangin  
ay pwede ‘tong gibain.  

Masasanay kang matalo,
para sa atin ‘tong mundo.
Para sa atin,
hindi para sa kanila,
kailanman hindi ‘to masasakop
ng mga mapapait na luha.  

Nasanay ka na sa panonood
ng mga teleserye o pelikulang
kung ano ang theme song
ay ‘yon din ang pamagat.  

Nasanay ka nang mag-abang
sa paiba-ibang kulay na buhok
ni Vice Ganda, o ni Yeng Constantino,
ang umasa rin sa paiba-ibang desisyon
ng mga tao sa paligid mo.

Nasanay ka nang magmahal ang gasolina,
at iba pang mga bilihin  
ngunit hindi ang magmahal ng totoo,  
dahil takot kang masaktan ulit,
ang iwanan, o umasa ulit,
sa isang relasyong pang-post lang
sa FB, IG o Twitter,
‘yong pang-“#relationshipgoals” lang,
nasanay ka na pero takot ka pa rin.  

Nasanay ka na sa mga surprise quiz.
Sa exams. Sa reporting. Sa thesis.
Sa Singko, INC, Withdraw o Drop.
Sa pag-jaywalking,
dahil late na naman sa 7:30 AM class.  
Sa paulit-ulit na sorry.  
Sa paulit-ulit ding pagpapatawad.
Sa paghahanap ng ka-red string.
Sa paghahanap ng ka-forever.
Sa mabagal na internet.
Sa job interview. Sa gobyerno.    

Masasanay ka ring matalo
dahil ganito ang konsepto ng mundo.
Patitikman ka muna ng pagkabigo,
bago ka ulit maging buo.      

Baka rin bukas-makalawa
maiisipan mo nang mag-aral ng mabuti  
at iwasang ang usapang mabote,
ang bumangon ng maaga
at hindi papatayin ang naka-set na alarm,
ang maging totoo
sa taong nagmamahal sa ‘yo,
o kaya subukang ipa-Photoshop
ang 2x2 picture mo sa resume
para sa paparating na job interview.  

Masasanay ka ring matalo,
masasanay ka rin sa mga peklat mo sa puso.
Dahil hindi ito matatapalan
ng pulga-pulgadang concealer ng Maybelline,
o kahit ubusin mo pa
ang stock sa AVON, sa Watson, sa HBC, o sa Lazada.  

Kaya tanggapin mo na lang  
na ang buhay ay puno ng pagkatalo,
dahil sa huli para sa atin din naman ang mundo,
kaya wala kang dahilan para sumuko,
dahil ang sumusuko lang ang natatalo,
at ang hindi takot sumubok ulit
ang tunay na panalo.
Chit Jun 2020
Hay naloko na
Nasira ang cellphone
Ubos na rin ang ipon
Pano na ang FB, IG at ang ibon

Sumaglit sa kanto
Internet ang dinayo
Nang may kaba sa puso
Sa pagbasa ng iyong komento

"Musta? Tara kita tayo!"
Walong pantig
Na sa aki'y nagpanginig
Ngunit saglit lang ang kilig

Bumalik kasi ang kahapong kay pait
Na muling nagpasikip sa aking dibdib

At sa wakas, tama na
Naunawaan ko na si tadhana

Sa nasirang cellphone
At ubos na ipon.
vircapio gale Jun 2012
love-energy swinging toward bitter blows:
a father’s pride becomes a son’s,
he becoming bitter becoming hatred
in the midst of love abused,
a civil fight for freedom failing in the eyes of youth:
these minds of ours turn wildly—
change to the beat of unknown drums
and death knocks us up
pregnant with a new generation of hate,
of goals to love: the obliteration of hate’s mother,
but question on, worship your mind,
build a shrine of doubt and find
darkness emerging as a deeper shade of black
knowledge? knowledge?
myths laid upon us through the perspectival dimming of language
no one’s fault? societal pressures
no cause for blame? survival instincts
no source of evil? history has a gun to their head. . . .
no use for these words? meaningless.
dialogue, yes, for the birds,
the carrion of hope
once the breeding stops
and lets the precious journey start:
down the cesspool of quasi-oblivion,
where we’re all a minority of one,
grasping for meaning in an abyssm of phantasmal foundations.
words, words, the excuse of words;
when father’s left no ground to walk on,
the son sits there digging
ditches for the death of systems
holes in the fabric mother wore,
tears in the existence we thought we knew.

what is this about? question marks
swerving away from sour truth
bleeds the nonsense through the flesh of what we love
and dying, dying, hate becomes a source of love,
guilt projects a softened heart
kneeling down now
outside, but wanting in.
affirmed, dejected.

[OR
are they swerving away from faith
simply a defense against the actions to take
ontic procratstinator! hear me now!
safety is the goal behind every measure
seek danger and you run the dangers of comfort,
seek comfort, and delusion becomes your handmaid.]

for knowledge of past dogma is dogma too
and the heart pumps it anyway;
for existence is. O heart, your sutra
flows nimbly on into eternity,
but you take this life and live it now,
the rhythm born of a mystery,
sacred to the foolish,
sarkin to the wise—
and the dancing wise man
birthing a new enigma
travels on into the depths of the ordinary
with a smile and a bow,
a hop-skip like Nietzschean
melodrama.

I can write it once for fun,
twice for accuracy,
thrice for fame and ten more for shame.
Do you want to know what it’s about
or do you want to figure it out?
the game of pride makes fresh
the fish of mental seas;
but truth is less cozy;
dagger in your existential eye.

no conclusions to be embraced without the whim of faith?
no art show game gripe to win but for the game of taste?

this bout goes on, this Bout goes on! oh how I wish my mind was lacking!
but no! the sacrifice, but the sacrifice,
pigs of Aristotle knew no quarrell,
no such quarrell.

when does such a poem become a forced effort?  when will I stop questioning myself?
where is this urge to destroy originate?
what ******* language am I speaking in when I think?
what and why,
who the but questions, questions
falling spiking holes in teh floor of contentment
or is it laziness: should I tak emy e pick now or wa itf ort he rig htto **** newith mystic alllllllllllll certainty from be yo ndt he fen ceof lan gua ge.

why go back? why try?
the difference between communication and self-indulgent writing is the effort to conform to the extent necessary for the sharingof truth... and so nobility demands conformity, however long it takes and however wonderful it may be in the mean time to simply spill my fingers across the trypesu ritre lia shjkk e a A b B i IG load o f ***... as if the hiddenness of deconstucted language masked my immaturity as a poet, as a person, as a thinker, as a wallower in shame.  as a Man. as a *** machine. as a weak creature. as a creature of potentially great accomplishments but small ***** at the present, as a person hiding from the said for fear of having to live up to it, as one who doesn’t believe his words half the time, even noe, ever noer rht all suiooos  dhjhjh tuof rhty w arbif trya dfyoudng huddkkfkd fmdmf dfdlililhkjga wyeruipok smmm tuhtuth dgfhg dagdh f dhajkdf  fuduudjjd fh d hdhhd bit b not n tno totot t ototot  read read read read read read read read read reda dnrenadkf leadsd fhdus duig hgjhdf dh sdmf sialdihf duf dreioan ign udfin the dh diguicse of hjtkjh heioa never heros heilike hte  e9a 1 1 ih kj n h ogma doifj hedOLvever otitoto the  ososososririrroow ww dance waiting at the librasyer renckjh c concon con iejr a  goodo excucse to t constraint no nt rot th even dfhight hwith th d dear on the all ndklfn eh fh searching thioart worthless buthen I find htheihadf htis hivoih Valid dfkdljhf jhkajh yea it s i kjh Lavlls ishn Vadildld meaning ngon woven into nonesense nd fnidoijifj bJar in Tennessiossdnohf  a freww few deletes and the important words become clear however taxing on an hypothetical reader from the future in which I do hope to become g”reat” half-heartily,  though for show.  .  .and the experience of writing is revealed through the laziness, or tiredness, of a recent graduate trying to write something meaningful after a summer of passion and *** and drugs and resentment toward the family and the sad economic advice given him.
Crissel Famorcan Mar 2017
Sa sarili noon ay aking nasambit,
Sa pangarap ko, wala nang hihigit
Sa buhay na ito, wala na ring nais makamit
Kundi ang pangarap ko na sana'y masapit

Ngunit nang narinig ko ang tinig **** kayganda,
Ako sa iyo ay agad nahalina
Sa puso ko'y nabuhay muli ang pag - asa ,
At mula nun' ninais kong ikaw ay makita

Ang iyong kanta kung pakinggan ay anong sarap !
Mas maganda siguro kung aawit sa aking harap
Sa malamig na tinig mo,lahat ay naaakit
Sa mga larawan mo, mata ko'y tila nadikit

Oh mahabaging langit! kailan kaya makikita
Itong talentadong tao na iyong nilikha?
Autograph nya kailan ko kaya makukuha?
O masilayan man lang maganda nyang mukha?

Pakiwari ko'y mahaba pa ang aking tatahakin,
Sa pera ko'y marami pa ang dapat ipunin,
Kaya't sa ngayon, ang akin nalang gagawin,
Sundan sya sa facebook twitter at ig narin!

At bago ko ito wakasan,
Isang salita ang nais kong iwanan
Di pa man kita nasisilayan,
Mamahalin ka sa tahimik na paraan.

Alam kong malabong ako ay mapansin,
Dahil marami ang mga katulad ko rin,
Ayos lang! Basta't lagi **** tatandaan
May isang CRISSEL na handa kang suportahan.

At kung loloobin man ng kapalaran,
Itong tula'y iyong mapakinggan,
Sana ikaw ay masiyahan,
Magdulot sa iyo ng konting kaligayahan.

Hindi ko alam kung may pagkakataon
Na magkatotoo ang aking mga ilusyon,
Pero tandaan mo sadyang mahal kita
Sa puso't isip ko tunay na nag - iisa !
This is dedicated to my favorite artist Kaye Cal ❤❤
Anton Jun 2020
I hope nga sama sa coke og tubig,
Piliion mo ako nga tubig,
Dili man tam.is ug lamion,
Basta bisag unsay mahitabo,
dle ka pwedeng mo dle nako,
Kay ako nga tubig makaayo ug makatambal,
Di lang sa tutunlan  asta pod sa imong kauhaw,
Kauhaw sa gugma ug pagamoma.

Dili sama sa soft drinks,
Nga imong pilion ug pangitaon,
Kung ikaw makakaon ug lamion pero bidli na pagkaon,
Apan ikaw maga duhaduha,
Basta ang lawas may gipamati na,
Mga sakit ug balatian nga tandgunon,

Sa gugma, mao ni sila ang atong mga hinigugma kaniadto,
Mas gipili ang kalami  sa karon,
Wala ga lantaw sa possibling sakit,
Sakit nga maabot ig mata sa  kaugmaon,

Maong unta ako nga tubig imong pilion,
Bisag dle tam.is ug lamion,
Mahimo mo man sad ako nga gamiton,
Sa imong pag hunad ug paglimpyo ,
Sa mga preskong samad sa imong kagahapon,


Isaad kong dughan mo pagahugasan,
Pad.on ang tanang kasakit ug kabalaka,
Dughan mo panggaon, higugmaon ug paga ampingan,
Mga kasakit kong alid.an  ug pagpangga ug paghigugma,


Maong ako nga tubig intawn pagapilia.
Tubig man ko para kanila,
Labaw pa ni sa soft drinks ang katam.is kung mahigugma.

Unta inday kong shiela pilia
Kining
Tubig ko nga paghigugma
10.21.20 2am
#Ilove you so much my Nimel Broñola(Miano)
Brandon brown Aug 2013
Alone
That's how I feel very often
Sitting here on my own 
Til the day I'm in my coffin 
Double crossers run they mouth more than water in a faucet
And these ratchet *** hoes only want what's in my pocket 
Foreal 
All these fake *** ****** claiming they yo friend
But in the end everybody know its just pretend 
Unlike the demons that I see in every empty room
And the reasons why the world is stressed from work and shrooms
Every season 50 people on Milwaukee news
Dying cuz they tryna find a way to get around the rules
And it's funny
Well it's really kinda stunning
Cuz they tryna make that money
To see they kids make it out of school
Now ig they'll never see that day. 
Why ?
Cuz they died tryna get paid. 
Wow. 
They lived for the same thing they died for. 
Blood drips and now they the one that millions cry for. 
But last week he was knocking on every single door
Asking for donations for his child and nothing more
But they snickered and lied on they doorstand 
And now they sniffle and cry for this poor man
The three types of people that I mentioned before
Are the same people behind all those knocked doors 
The double crossers were friends that wanted new friends
The ratchet *** was his unsupportive girlfriend
The fake guy
Was every person that cried
When they found out that he died 
But mocked him while he was alive
I don't want those kind of people around me
That's why I claim my loneliness so proudly 
That's why I'm lonely in this world with no poise
Yes I'm alone. But loneliness is my choice.
JOSE GONZALEZ  Sep 2014
IG LOVE
JOSE GONZALEZ Sep 2014
Im gulity of IG watching you,
Wishing i could talk to you.

Its funny i know nothing about the person in pics,
But i gotta say one thing if i may insist.

Ur smile is crippling in aspects of pain,
It feels to me whenever ur hurt...it rains.

Those eyes of gravity can pull on my pride,
But with no hesitation id go for the ride.

I open my eyes as i ascend to you,
Find myself being more then a friend to you.

                                                                                                 ☝️Jose gonzalez.
Heidi Kalloo Apr 2016
If I was a provider of the content I like
Like I wanted to be I’d never have gotten that
Surgery that ****** up my mammary glands
      I’d gush a milky **** for all audiences
    Even the ones that knew me before I turned bad *****
And spoilt
Even my great aunt and grandma and mom
who have finally befriended me
on Facebook
The ***** in me covers up and cuts off these
Lady parts
But I heat up and cant hide
The spark in my eyes when I see a girl
Unafraid of her ******
Wearing lingerie on IG

Feminism to me is radical or bust
Is ******* your ****** ****** and
Taking lots of pictures as proof
Of your own ****** occurrence,
Reposting if I get taken down,
Moderator of my own **** self.
Daisy Feb 2019
Hidden Scars
                   and lines
            create
                      immortality
             A mirage of
                      Beauty
                 replacing
             Ethereal Glory
                         Our
                                Children's homes
                                         lost
                  their souls'
                                    birthplace
                 ­            gone
Part 2 of 3 poems inspired by motherhood

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