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Chop and dice
Sauté add some spice
In the wok
Let it simmer and cook
Perfect taste

News at nine
The neighbour brings
Dinner we eat
Bland face
Sorry to share
Sorry to share, but writing is a coping mechanism!
raquezha Jul 2020
Pirang aldaw takang hinapag
Nahiling ko kaya an gayon mo
Pirmi kung pinupurbaran na magrani
Madara pa ngani akong mani
Pero garo sala an pagkaintindi
Pirmi ka nalang naglilihis nin agi
Pagnagkurahaw na an para-sira
Ibig sabihon kayan udto na
Maluwas na ako para magtimpla
Nin kape asin mapritos nin sugok
Pirmi kong pinapasiram an luto ko
Baka sakaling maparong mo
Asin darahon ka sa hamot
Kan sakuyang pagkamoot
Pirmi ko nalang kayang kaulay an sadiri ko
Siguro panahon naman para kausipon mo ako.

—𝐔𝐬𝐢𝐩, a Bikol poetry.
All I really want is someone to talk to.
1. Usip, to tell on(tattle)
2. https://www.instagram.com/p/CDRaZThH-Hn/
Abimael Jul 2020
If life is fearsome
Then leave it behind

The fear

The Inertia

The Love

Begins...
Sometimes, let it start
Nat Lipstadt Jun 2015
~~~

(This one is for me)

~~~
The hardest thing to do,
being strong,

for everyone else
Abimael Jul 2020
Another year of stress
There is so much to tell
but nothing to prove.
The nightmare followed me
For another year...
I wish the next one
Will be better
But at the end
This is life.
Life will change for sure
Never give up
Time will define your path.
Draft (2017) Saved for me.
Life still better, Im free-ish.
next to never (a pair of ones)

squeezed between nuh-uh and fugetaboutit,

is that long gone notion in the nation of concepts,

like one true love, the connected lines on each of our

bodies, certifying we are a pair of ones, a strong hand.


there are chores to be done:

reread Guy de Maupassant,

delete two thousand unread emails

cry for my so lost children

let Walt Whitman wash over my body like oil

kick the guy out of bed so he can make us coffee.

a ton of stuff to do, good thing, we got a strong hand,

that pair of ones.

which I am now informed is called a pair of

Aces.

Who Knew?

7:51 Sun Jul 12
Àŧùl Jul 2020
We both are eager to meet,
How beautiful the day will be,
We can, right now only, imagine.
Let me inform you to avoid my scars,
Through my eyes, I offer a gateway,
A gateway to the brighter future.
Focus on my eyes, not the scars.
My HP Poem #1865
©Atul Kaushal
agatha Jun 2020
(seven)
i stopped wearing shorts—
unable to stop feeling eyes raking my legs
up and down, up and down.
i didn't even know there was a word for that.

(ten)
i started wearing clothes
a size big for me.
they did not ask why
i get angry whenever they force me
to wear something that clings.

i hated puberty,
how things would grow and change,
and they would stare.

(eleven)
i tried wearing shorts again.
immediately i get the feeling of someone
trailing behind me.
i went home as quickly as possible.

(thirteen)
i wore baggy clothes during commute—
a blouse and jeans. it was a thirty minute ride.
it felt longer. especially since this man
sat next to me,

hounding me nonsense— anong pangalan mo?
i do not answer.

that night, i had my resolve—
i will never commute alone again.
people laughed at me. hinahatid ka kasi lagi.

no.

(fifteen)
i started giving prolonged glares,
staring into the eyes of the beast
whenever i hear a whisper as i pass by.
hello, saan ka pupunta?

so i stare them down. funny how
they back away
as i stop in my tracks asking with my eyes
"what now, imbecile?"

does it feel bad when people don't tolerate
the ******* coming out of your mouth?

(nineteen)
ano ba kasi ang suot niya? they ask.
everything feels white-hot, searing.
i refuse to hear anymore of that.

exit.

(twenty)
every time i go home on my own
i carry something
in my hands, a blade if you must.
the night sky begins to envelop the horizon.
the streetlights cast their sickly orange hue
on the pavement as i take one last look at the hospital.

i hope i make it home in time.
"hello, anong pangalan mo?" : hello, what's your name?
"hinahatid ka kasi lagi." : well, you always have a ride.
"hello, saan ka pupunta?" : hello, where are you going?
"ano ba kasi suot niya?" : what was she wearing?
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