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Piyush Apr 15
A coward hiding behind the mask,
A coward who can’t handle a task.
A coward who can’t earn a dime—
Why can’t he see a bit of shine?

In a world full of intelligence,
There lives one lost in negligence.
He wants the power in his hands,
To write a story that understands.

The coward finally sees himself,
While finding his story on a shelf.
He stays inside his little shell,
Not knowing what to give up—
the fear, the past, or the hell.
Elaine C Apr 14
seventeen

im ******* bored
blasting hyperpop in my ears
screaming in fields and
writing on walls

sixteen

today
and yesterday
every day
all the same

fifteen

wheres my ******* break?
i spend time, i earn it back
some things cost a lot of time
some things, not so much

fourteen
thirteen
twelve
eleven
ten
nine
eight
seven
six
fi­ve
four
three
two
one

and im back awake again
the time flies like planes
how did i get here?
i don't know, but im here to stay
time is the only thing no one has enough of
Immortality Apr 12
Woke within a dream,
amidst dense forest.

a tree stood,
older than time,
casting its shadow.

a touch of it,
showed all it had lived—
bloodied sword clash,
clouds that wept for years,
flora it wore,
wildflowers it shielded,
the warmth it once kissed.

yet it stood still.
as I faded,
back into the dream.
it had lived all, known all.
The passing skies, the passing breeze.
The swallow lies, the hollow trees.
The watch of time, above the chime.
I watch it began, I watch it end.
A marble there, rolling flair.
Things stop, things go.
It hops, it will glow.
You see closer, you see thin.
No closure, no end.
See atom to atom, it’s growing thin.
You see quark to quark, no end.
It’s moving, the abyss.
I grasp what isn’t, truly bliss.
It grasps what is, It grasps to began.
The small ticks of an atom scan.
You know it is not real, for it is.
You see again, you see then.
Time changes, what stops?
The rages, the pops.
You look, a broken glass.
You’ll never find, what no one’s asks.
Think again, what is.
That can, shall end.
Lance Remir Apr 11
When the scent finally fades
From the pillows and covers
When I can't find strands of hair
On my clothes and carpet

When I redecorate the place
To fill empty spaces
When the profile is deleted
From all of the subscriptions

When I buy fewer groceries
Just to make meals for one
When I change the locks
Carrying the only key

When I stop checking
My phone and socials
When I stop saying goodnight
Because there's no good morning

When I stop hoping
For a dream long gone
When it finally hits me
Of how different life is

That's when I will realize
You are truly gone
dee Apr 11
For love, it is mandatory you pay the price of grief.
I’m afraid I’m in treacherous debt.
Swiped love off visas.
more discounts than Mastercards.
50% of your attention only on Saturdays.
What a deal!
At least I had your eyes to myself just for a while.
I knew every second that I was gonna lose you.
Which is why every second mattered,
why every second costs.
I didn’t count every minute like quarters.
I nurtured every hour.
I spent all the time I had on priceless affection.
You can see everything I owe to myself in my eyes.
Pat my pockets feel the left over potential.
Turn over my wallets and try to count the hopeless pennies.
I have nothing else to give.
What about an arm? A leg?
How much more can I give of me just for a little more time with you?
racks on a racks baby.
Time has no wings
But it flies faster than bald eagles and fast jets
Time has no rings
But it is engaged or bound to ‘no safety nets’
And married with death.

We are all migrants in the depth
Of the valleys. We are passing by
Like the wind. No matter how hard we try
We will have to go
Like an unwanted cargo.

Time is nobody’s enemy
Be smart to lend a hand
To a stranger, for no real friend
Exists in this messy quagmire
Where everything is strange and dire.

We really own nothing
We are all living on borrowed time
We shall pay for the crime
Remember that we own nothing
Yet we keep on fantasizing and dreaming.

Time, which is not an enemy
Owns everything under the sun
And everything under the blue moon
FYI: Nobody has returned from Heaven
Not even the wisest angel of the deep blue Sea.

Copyright © April 2025, Hébert Logerie, All rights reserved.
Hébert Logerie is the author of several collections of poems.
Sandy Macacua Apr 11
Sometimes love isn’t loud.
It doesn’t always arrive with flowers,
or surprise visits,
or hours spent side by side.

Sometimes,
it’s in the late replies that still feel warm.
In the tired voice that still says “I love you.”
In the silence that doesn’t feel empty
because we know—deep down—we’re still choosing each other.

It’s in a random meme sent at 2AM,
just to say, “I saw this and thought of you.”
In a soft “pagod ako,”
not as a complaint, but as a quiet letting in—
letting me be part of your exhaustion.

It’s in the everyday check-ins:
“kumain ka na?”
“nakauwi ka na ba?”
Not just questions,
but little reminders that say:
I care. I’m with you. Even from far away.

It’s in the way we stretch time,
make space,
find light in the middle of our chaos.
In the way you pause your busy day
just to make me feel remembered.

Love, for us,
isn’t always about presence—
it’s about intention.
It’s about showing up
in small, quiet ways
that matter more than anyone else sees.

We’re not always available.
But we’re always trying.
And that trying,
that choosing,
even in between work, sleep, and everything in between—
that’s where love lives.

Because even when we don’t say much,
even when we’re tired, busy,
or miles apart—
I still feel you.
And somehow,
that’s more than enough.
Steve Page Apr 9
The muted cuckoo goes through the hourly motions, miming dutiful repetitions
which in time is lip-read til we appreciate what's long-gone unsaid.

Another hour has sped by, pregnant with unrealised promise.
Few things sadder in the clock world as a silent cuckoo.
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