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sadgirl Nov 2017
meanwhile,
summer is not
ours

it is not
a celebration,
it is teddy bears

on street corners,
bodega flowers
on makeshift graves,

distorted faces of
home-printed memorials
on t-shirts

the same color and
texture as what
the dead boy was selling,

meanwhile,
summer is nothing more
than closed houses,

decks with grandmothers
scowling down at the teenagers
who are not sure

if
they
are even real
Kinda inspired by Danez Smith.
Toni gomez Jun 2017
Im feeling you while I feel on you
Its mutual
Peace of mind everytime
You come through
It aint love
Poisoned by the lust
It aint right but it aint wrong
Who are we to blame
Who are they to judge
Started with a conversation
Now all we do is ****
Àŧùl May 2017
I got hurt by an arrow,
And the sky is crimson.

It turns crimson in my blues,
And the redness of my blood.

I wanted to serve the people,
Because I am the Robin Hood.
My HP Poem #1563
©Atul Kaushal
Edgar MoneyPenny May 2017
drop a mouse into a pool full of pyranhas and see what happens
build those section 80 houses in that hood, go ahead...do it.
The problem arises when not only one mouse is dropped, but a million at once, many of the mice will struggle and emerge victorious, possibly even favored by evolution or just blind luck.
Many Many more of the mice will be ripped apart by the pyranhas, never even getting a glimpse of life beyond that miserable pond.
The pyranhas will keep consuming.
Purp scurp
Donielle May 2017
The beast slinking in your eyes
scans my body,
searching for placement of your first bite.
The heat from your fire burns,
Soaking me in the desire that drips from your teeth.
Shooting stars land on my shoulders
where you rip me open,
and your gods steal my breath
to coax a song from my heart.
Yen Apr 2017
Manila,
Manila,
Your bustling streets vibrate with the rumbling of the jeepneys
and the hollers of the drivers as they say,
“Pasahero diyan, kasya pa, kasya pa!”; (Any passenger there, some seats are still free!)
Your nights twinkle with the Christmas lights
that surround every tree around the Meralco building
when September begins;
Your endless traffic jams keep McDonald’s and KFC alive
twenty-four by seven
where traffic enforcers dodge cars
and vans
trucks and tricycles
and jeepneys and bicycles
while dancing to the rhythm beating in their own ears
with a smile and a salute to all the drivers
from dawn to dusk;

The noise awakens the outskirts of your city
filled with people who never fails to smile
even when the storm pirouettes like a tempestuous ballerina,
where children watch the roads
transform into this ocean of black water
and small wooden boats become the means of transportation;
paddling in between houses
as the adults try to go to work;
where chickens waddling upon roofs
and cats chasing rats
become the best forms of entertainment

but Manila,
your lingering smell of cancer
comes with the dark blue starless sky
telling people to grip their bags until it merges with their bodies.
Manila, say good night
while they hold it tight
protecting it from the dark humid air
where thieves come out to
thumb down unscrutinised objects
from shallow pockets
by the flickering lamps
across the blazing red and emerald green lights


you see less
and less
and less
faces
as the Sun sinks and says good bye.

Stop
and try to tranquilise yourself.

Your city is now lead
by a blood-thirsty leader.
Apologies from gunshots overpower the cries of help from your people.
Manila,
ignore them
and sleep well.
Let the truth decay
while lives burn and vanish.
Prayers cannot save your mutinous ignominy.

Halcyon days are over
but

Manila,
you are still a beautiful city.
Your resilient people
overflows with hospitable hearts.
Their faces plastered with big smiles
as they welcome us for you
and say, “Mabuhay!” (Long live!)
proud and mighty.
Offering their minds on banana leaf plates to everyone who visits,
Giving away their hearts in small loot bags to everyone who leaves,

The Pearl of the Orient Seas
was my hood.

Manila,
despite your lack of snow
and intense weather swings,
You are
and will always be
my home.
Toni gomez Mar 2016
my head it resembles a revolver
My mind the spinning wheel
Loaded  with thoughts
ready to shoot out
hoping it catches someones eye
Toni gomez Oct 2016
Down my way there's a sun but it don't shine
There's clouds but not white
There's dreams in lost lives
There's feens on both sides
The streets have cold days
But hot nights
Teens are knocked up
Fathers are locked up
Children all caught up
Down my way it's all ****** up
Toni gomez Nov 2016
Locked away all you see is four walls
A locked door,
Laying down wishing you was home
Phone calls, but no ones ever home
Try again tomorrow
Mail seems never to appear
They said they wrote you
But it never made it here
They threw away the key but
Couldn't take my mind
So every other night
I let my thoughts roam
I let my hands write
Let my soul rest
While I watch the time fly
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