#bundle
Once upon a time,
there lived a family of four.
There were always disputes and quarrels
behind the door.
All four brothers
stood firm and high,
while the father looked back at them
with a sad little sigh.
With all failed attempts
to resolve the fight,
he would teach 'em a lesson
to set them right.
"Go fetch a bundle of sticks,
just near the cattle!
Lemme teach you all a lesson—
a lesson to never battle!"
As they trudged along their paths,
under their breath they mumbled,
"Now what are these for?!"
They groaned, and they fumbled.
In the house, the father
told them to break the lot.
They tried and tried and tried,
but in the end, could not.
Then the father said,
"Now, break a single one."
In just a matter of seconds,
it was already done.
Now this is where they realize the moral of the story...
When we are together,
we are strong and hard.
We have the gift of unity—
thank the Lord!
When we are divided,
we are easy to break.
But when we are united,
a good team we make.
"Now do you realize
the mistakes you've made?
Now do you realize
the values you can take?"
"Yes, we do—
we're proud to say!"
May 30, 2025
May 30, 2025 at 1:22 AM UTC
It is not a mere assortment but a testament to the sentiment we share,
A bundle of heartfelt glee I present to you,
An array of colors crossing symbolism itself,
A gesture reigning classical to say the least,
A bouquet of roses for you my dearest,
My sincerest regards.
Sep 14, 2021
Sep 14, 2021 at 3:47 PM UTC
our second of two lasses conceived
sometimes within a blink
the exact moment auguring conception
difficult to identify or pinpoint
whence seminal liquid
********** from a ******* *****
birth of second daughter thyself and spouse created
while immersed in the ****** drink
generally occurred during
our naked lunch sans primal cop
yule la shun, via carousing with amorousness
when a seminal dollop
of passion circa May 1998 that pregnant verity
became definitive when the ultrasound
evinced a miniscule glop
pronounced by obstetrician and gynecologist
with an impending due date
yet unpredictable until the wife did evince
a swelling abdominal area, an ordinary fate
once pregnancy without doubt
ascertained both of felt great
lee excited at prospect thee eldest
would become “big” sister,
which less than total devoted attention
she would naturally hate
upon begetting youngest punim
indubitably saw her (Eden) irate
yet any jealousy temporarily deferred, offset
and thwarted upon the birth
of Shana, whose anniversary
she exited birth canal when a dearth
of being cocooned in the womb
suddenly necessitated adjusting to life on Earth
when formerly inducing
a bulge within the uterine hearth
and this papa nearly nineteen years
wept tears of joyful delight
with a complete set of anatomical features,
and gender as the girl found wife excite
head, cuz decision asper circumcision,
a moot point re difficult conscience fight
club and prediction as per average adult height
of female progeny, number two found the sight
a biologically whipped miracle I held tight.
Jan 14, 2018
Jan 14, 2018 at 4:52 PM UTC
A hippodrome as smoke adjourn
those can wrap Havanas blunt
while Manila fish for sordino
they reek of harvest yet exhume Moro
then San Mateo shall not a maraschino bane
whether they've sought bastion in Italy then
once their hopes shall keep ships ahoy
and Sabatini sing San Marino here
that sandcastle star await his lover in
"The Sea Hawk" a fine costume whence sail
those Antilles with a conquistador as buttress
in this play they call Those Philippines alas meet
El Duarte in a duet with his song set aflame with
great sleeves in such kleptocracy worldwide again.
Mar 24, 2017
Mar 24, 2017 at 8:35 AM UTC
I sit on the porch,
a cigarette in between my fingers,
thinking about how I don't know,
and the thought lingers.
I take a drag,
then let out the smoke,
could this be the end,
of the midnight's ****
There's still a chance,
a chance this isn't happening,
that this i got lucky,
or i carry a being.
Too young, too scared,
I sit alone,
wondering how many months,
till i get kicked out of my home.
If i can't take care of myself,
how can i care for another?
No job, no money,
too young to be a mother.
Sit still, breathe deep,
this happens to a lot of teens,
but they survive the task,
and make princess queens.
Take it down a notch,
there's still that chance,
and with it, being young,
you could still dance.
Aug 9, 2014
Aug 9, 2014 at 7:29 PM UTC
I get the crust and the gristle of a thistle once a missile shooting out into the sky and I cry, wonder why. Never sure what I feel for the meal of a deal and then words more like air slip the breeze in my hair, butterflies in the skies killing what kept my alive. Oh too bad, well how sad, if the songs last lines din't matter it'd harm, it'd make the soul so very mad. Here I fall, there I stand like a robot dancing to the tunes. It's demand. Hear I laugh, hear I cry. I hear the screams and feel the burn, so why? Why unsure, of what's telling me my life is so impure. Threatened heart, from the strings that wrap it, tearing it apart. Feel the clench of a bundle of what you yourself have drench and so benched. And you threw to me the horror show, I never so have thought would reckon me to be. I, to be, it's master and it's longing family, here I cry. Hear "I" cry. For I exist in heart, but never, not in mind. There I stand once again as a memory of all that I pretend. If I tried, to be real, the pieces fall apart inside. So I hide, then I quiver and I shake as 'me' is inside. I can touch to the shelter covered in the unbelieving, underachieving to be who I know I am to be. Or at least what you see. I crush the old me and start anew, though I grew. I, immortal to myself have stomped the true. And I become something greater than simple little shrew. Do not lie! For I see with one eye, the look through me. What you see is a host, not the ghost, that lives on. "Awh, look at me. I'm so strong!" Laugh along. Child there. Where? Oops, forgot to care. Now I stare, towards the end that's never ending like this script. Never ending. Twist and bending. Don't kid me, I'm no kid. I'm the body of a youth, but I am dead. I've destroyed myself, if others didn't do a perfect job. Hold up stop! I'm letting go, a bubble that will pop. It will burst, destroying me, if it doesn't **** me first. Here I stand. Hear I cry. There I go. I have died.
May 6, 2014
May 6, 2014 at 1:09 PM UTC