#ba - Hello Poetry

we watch the new days estimate of our certain ending date gloom tycoons in our bedrooms we sweep away then, with our brooms the lingering woven webs left behind by E-celebs surely just one could never **** but endless days will leave you ill that which hurts can hold no candle to yesterdays latest scandal oh woe to earth for her bed made on all the ***** we never gave another day, another grave forsake, fortake, and all for keeps for smokes, for jokes, for he who reaps no game won through inaction simple math, no more subtraction no name ones, few attractions simple path, no more distractions simplify, sublime, substantial freeze and seize, they are financial

0

Jul 21, 2022

Jul 21, 2022 at 12:30 AM UTC

somehow

bababa

we watch the new days estimate of our certain ending date gloom tycoons in our bedrooms we sweep away then, with our brooms the lingering woven webs left behind by E-celebs surely just one could never **** but endless days will leave you ill that which hurts can hold no candle to yesterdays latest scandal oh woe to earth for her bed made on all the ***** we never gave another day, another grave forsake, fortake, and all for keeps for smokes, for jokes, for he who reaps no game won through inaction simple math, no more subtraction no name ones, few attractions simple path, no more distractions simplify, sublime, substantial freeze and seize, they are financial

21

Babalik pa ba? Ako pa ba'y aasa? Na ikaw ay babalik kapag ako ay nag-antay Kay hirap tanggapin Na ngayon ay hindi ka na sa akin Nakasandal, nakatabi buong magdamagan hanggang mag umaga Ipaliwanag mo kung bakit ba Dahil ako ay umaasa pa Na ika'y mahagkan, makayakap Muling makausap Bawat sandali At kung makita kang kasama siya 'Di maiwasan na ako'y manghina Magmamanhid ang katawan Gulong-gulo na ang aking isipan Babalik pa ba? Alam mo namang ikaw lang ang aking iniisip Mula pag gising at pag-sapit ng dilim Tila suntok sa buwan Hinahanap ka kung san-san Na lang ako napapadpad ngunit di ka parin matagpuan Babalik pa ba?

0

May 12, 2015

May 12, 2015 at 10:52 AM UTC

malakingpoetmo

Babalik Pa Ba?

Babalik pa ba? Ako pa ba'y aasa? Na ikaw ay babalik kapag ako ay nag-antay Kay hirap tanggapin Na ngayon ay hindi ka na sa akin Nakasandal, nakatabi buong magdamagan hanggang mag umaga Ipaliwanag mo kung bakit ba Dahil ako ay umaasa pa Na ika'y mahagkan, makayakap Muling makausap Bawat sandali At kung makita kang kasama siya 'Di maiwasan na ako'y manghina Magmamanhid ang katawan Gulong-gulo na ang aking isipan Babalik pa ba? Alam mo namang ikaw lang ang aking iniisip Mula pag gising at pag-sapit ng dilim Tila suntok sa buwan Hinahanap ka kung san-san Na lang ako napapadpad ngunit di ka parin matagpuan Babalik pa ba?

22

You choked on chariots raw. Red egg yolk suppers, churned of the milk oceans this morning you kept. The lintel of stone turned toward dusk. Some great dynasty of submissive spirits catering your morning Out on a cart of muse, forms of heaven cannot even hear you. You are a soporific knot in the tale of your Old womanhood. In this infinite Tuesday morning your small black eyes, like an oil tanker toppling over The intense azure sea- shipwrecked, and lost. Departing from your childhood you slurp Coca-Cola from a silver straw. From the corner store and inside Winter yawns. There is no face, only strikingly beautiful black hair. The body under you is at home in all My hand's fingers have to fill. All the clothes that you could carry for the two-way adventure. There are Never enough bubbles between your lips and the glass bottle you have. Only the score of the whistleblower. And the poor symphony you had prayed for into the dial-tone phone, the deep Wilderness, that stiff forever-ago budding from your coffee cup. Neurogenesis lifted from your Fingerprints and emblazoned into this lump of human ingenuity. The hopeless octave that cut us all short. Every short story that was left untold. There are the brief deaths recoiling in your spiritual architecture. The ****** of morphia has bourn me awake. Inside you are often unscathed, vanishing as some of Tonight's parts assemble you, on you blue is a beautiful color. The sweet retreat that gave you life or the bountiful deaths that counted you too cutely by your side. You are the sun in my black coat. Here is my sea, your sea, you'll see.

0

Apr 26, 2014

Apr 26, 2014 at 5:34 AM UTC

martin-narrod

Coca-Cola at 2:00AM

You choked on chariots raw. Red egg yolk suppers, churned of the milk oceans this morning you kept. The lintel of stone turned toward dusk. Some great dynasty of submissive spirits catering your morning Out on a cart of muse, forms of heaven cannot even hear you. You are a soporific knot in the tale of your Old womanhood. In this infinite Tuesday morning your small black eyes, like an oil tanker toppling over The intense azure sea- shipwrecked, and lost. Departing from your childhood you slurp Coca-Cola from a silver straw. From the corner store and inside Winter yawns. There is no face, only strikingly beautiful black hair. The body under you is at home in all My hand's fingers have to fill. All the clothes that you could carry for the two-way adventure. There are Never enough bubbles between your lips and the glass bottle you have. Only the score of the whistleblower. And the poor symphony you had prayed for into the dial-tone phone, the deep Wilderness, that stiff forever-ago budding from your coffee cup. Neurogenesis lifted from your Fingerprints and emblazoned into this lump of human ingenuity. The hopeless octave that cut us all short. Every short story that was left untold. There are the brief deaths recoiling in your spiritual architecture. The ****** of morphia has bourn me awake. Inside you are often unscathed, vanishing as some of Tonight's parts assemble you, on you blue is a beautiful color. The sweet retreat that gave you life or the bountiful deaths that counted you too cutely by your side. You are the sun in my black coat. Here is my sea, your sea, you'll see.

7