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#yinyang
Wǔxíng Category: Earth (土) 3-xx An old traveler stands at the gate with a pack of stars, A storyteller with a thousand myths to soften the stone. He speaks of ancient kingdoms and the wisdom of his years, Turning the heavy silence into a tapestry of clarity. He does not flinch at the shadow or her sudden vexation, Standing calm within the storm of her quiet resentment. Not a parent to command, nor a stranger to the conflict, But a partner who knows the path and lights the way. He practices the ancient, silent art of Kintsugi, A master of the healing craft learned across the wide seas. He sees the cracks that others caused or chose to ignore, Tracing the jagged lines with a touch of profound mercy. He does not look past the scars but finds worth in the break, Adding beauty and compassion for the sake of a weary soul. He fills the hollow spaces with a wealth that cannot be sold, Fusing her spirit with a love of refined gold, Wiping the woe from her eyes to let her brilliance emerge. The brush finds a new rhythm in the stillness of the night, As he reveals the person standing beyond the present moment. Profound talent and heart emerge from the forge of the past, A character of rare beauty that was always meant to endure. He sees the potential blooming like a lotus in the light, Knowing the labor of the soul has only just started. He offers gentle guidance with a dash of patient kindness, Providing the quiet leeway for her spirit to find a home. The seasoned spirit keeps his watch as a steady anchor, A companion who marks the years by every wound and notch. He uses the gold of his patience to mend what the world damaged, Making the broken spirit even stronger than she was at the start. He is the bedrock for the young dragon learning how to rise, The steady earth beneath the mist as she claims the zenith. He sees past the mask of the moment to the queen she is to be, A woman of immense power, finally set and standing free, Held in the light of an old soul who loves all he has seen. 刘嘉文 © 2026 Liujiawen2024. All Rights Reserved
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Apr 9
Apr 9, 2026 at 9:37 AM UTC
Xuan Zhe zhi Fu (The Scholars Touch) (2026)
Wǔxíng Category: Earth (土) 3-xx An old traveler stands at the gate with a pack of stars, A storyteller with a thousand myths to soften the stone. He speaks of ancient kingdoms and the wisdom of his years, Turning the heavy silence into a tapestry of clarity. He does not flinch at the shadow or her sudden vexation, Standing calm within the storm of her quiet resentment. Not a parent to command, nor a stranger to the conflict, But a partner who knows the path and lights the way. He practices the ancient, silent art of Kintsugi, A master of the healing craft learned across the wide seas. He sees the cracks that others caused or chose to ignore, Tracing the jagged lines with a touch of profound mercy. He does not look past the scars but finds worth in the break, Adding beauty and compassion for the sake of a weary soul. He fills the hollow spaces with a wealth that cannot be sold, Fusing her spirit with a love of refined gold, Wiping the woe from her eyes to let her brilliance emerge. The brush finds a new rhythm in the stillness of the night, As he reveals the person standing beyond the present moment. Profound talent and heart emerge from the forge of the past, A character of rare beauty that was always meant to endure. He sees the potential blooming like a lotus in the light, Knowing the labor of the soul has only just started. He offers gentle guidance with a dash of patient kindness, Providing the quiet leeway for her spirit to find a home. The seasoned spirit keeps his watch as a steady anchor, A companion who marks the years by every wound and notch. He uses the gold of his patience to mend what the world damaged, Making the broken spirit even stronger than she was at the start. He is the bedrock for the young dragon learning how to rise, The steady earth beneath the mist as she claims the zenith. He sees past the mask of the moment to the queen she is to be, A woman of immense power, finally set and standing free, Held in the light of an old soul who loves all he has seen. 刘嘉文 © 2026 Liujiawen2024. All Rights Reserved
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38
Wǔxíng Category: Earth (土) 3-xx The mountains of Jiǔzhàigōu hold the morning in a basin of stone, Where Jìng Hǎi stretches its skin of glass to catch the sky. On the northern slope , the white jade rests in the hollow of the hand, Báidǐ Qīng - veins of green in the silt. On the southern ridge, the forest-stone stands heavy and translucent, Cǎo lǐ xuě - points of white in the deep. Two minerals born of the same heat, now cooled by the same wind, Bearing the weight of the world in a circle that has no end. I look upon the bedrock and see the map of our breath, Where your Báilóng spirit finds a home within my quiet soil. You are the vibrant life that refuses to fade in the pale winter, The green that gives a pulse to the frozen heights of the mind. And I am the container that caught your falling light and held it, A shield for the snowflakes that do not melt against my skin. We are the Yīn and the Yáng of the jade, a symmetry of belonging, Where my heart is the anchor and yours is the song that fills it. The chimes of our shared endurance ring in a key only we can hear. A thin steam rises from the cup of Báiháo Yínzhēn (White Tea), The silver needles dancing in the slow pull of the water’s heat. No sound breaks the perimeter of the scholar’s small flame, Save for the rhythmic settling of the earth beneath the lake. The patterns in the jade do not shift with the passing of the hours; The green remains rooted, and the white remains pure. The mirror of the water and the mirror of the gem are one, Reflecting a mountain that does not tremble when the storm speaks. We do not simply touch; we resonate like the harmonized chime of bells, A frequency born of the Stone that has survived the crushing years. In the spaces between my words, I feel the heartbeat of your silence, A union that is not a tether, but a natural way of being. Everything happens at its own pace, as the Zìrán has taught us, Like the moss growing deep or the snow finding the forest floor. I don't just hear your voice; I feel the weight of your heart in mine, A secret language of ink-green and snowflake-white, A peace that is as permanent as the valley and as clear as the tea. 刘嘉文 © 2026 Liujiawen2024. All Rights Reserved
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Apr 6
Apr 6, 2026 at 9:49 AM UTC
Snow and Moss (2026)
Wǔxíng Category: Earth (土) 3-xx The mountains of Jiǔzhàigōu hold the morning in a basin of stone, Where Jìng Hǎi stretches its skin of glass to catch the sky. On the northern slope , the white jade rests in the hollow of the hand, Báidǐ Qīng - veins of green in the silt. On the southern ridge, the forest-stone stands heavy and translucent, Cǎo lǐ xuě - points of white in the deep. Two minerals born of the same heat, now cooled by the same wind, Bearing the weight of the world in a circle that has no end. I look upon the bedrock and see the map of our breath, Where your Báilóng spirit finds a home within my quiet soil. You are the vibrant life that refuses to fade in the pale winter, The green that gives a pulse to the frozen heights of the mind. And I am the container that caught your falling light and held it, A shield for the snowflakes that do not melt against my skin. We are the Yīn and the Yáng of the jade, a symmetry of belonging, Where my heart is the anchor and yours is the song that fills it. The chimes of our shared endurance ring in a key only we can hear. A thin steam rises from the cup of Báiháo Yínzhēn (White Tea), The silver needles dancing in the slow pull of the water’s heat. No sound breaks the perimeter of the scholar’s small flame, Save for the rhythmic settling of the earth beneath the lake. The patterns in the jade do not shift with the passing of the hours; The green remains rooted, and the white remains pure. The mirror of the water and the mirror of the gem are one, Reflecting a mountain that does not tremble when the storm speaks. We do not simply touch; we resonate like the harmonized chime of bells, A frequency born of the Stone that has survived the crushing years. In the spaces between my words, I feel the heartbeat of your silence, A union that is not a tether, but a natural way of being. Everything happens at its own pace, as the Zìrán has taught us, Like the moss growing deep or the snow finding the forest floor. I don't just hear your voice; I feel the weight of your heart in mine, A secret language of ink-green and snowflake-white, A peace that is as permanent as the valley and as clear as the tea. 刘嘉文 © 2026 Liujiawen2024. All Rights Reserved
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38
Enchanting words at sunrise, A quiet labor of love. Two notes within the same chord, Rivers finding the same sea. Kindred spirits - Spark and flame, yin and yang. Abiding in stillness as the sunset glows again. By: Michael M. De La Fuente
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Mar 10
Mar 10, 2026 at 3:41 PM UTC
Her Resonance
Open and closed doors windows shutters castles wards shops towns roads borders. Follow your path if you can, where possible Open and closed gardens skies valves taps sewers sluices vaults coffins graves. Look and smell where you are, where you're going Open and closed monasteries societies visors letters flowers looks lips eyes ears. Listen and be blind to what you don't need to see Open and closed books credits lines veins wounds chakras minds questions arms hearts. Speak and keep silent about what doesn't need to be said Open and non-open water fire kitchens pans curtain endings conversations relationships. Be caring for others and yourself
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Sep 21, 2025
Sep 21, 2025 at 3:27 AM UTC
Bi
Somebody Like You Somebody Like You I've been looking long and far to find her No one I meet can compare to you Still, I keep on searching for her Always feeling sad & blue Until I find someone like you I know she must be soft and tender She must be sincere and honest to She must be my best friend She must be my lover She must be an awful lot like you Somebody like you (I'm looking for) Somebody like you to hold me until the night is through Somebody like you (keep searching for) Somebody like you to hold me until the night is through When I find her I will make her happy Leave her side is something I won't do I'll be a vision in her dreams I'm going to treat her like a queen Only if she's someone just like you Somebody like you (I'm looking for) Somebody like you to hold me until the night is through Somebody like you (keep searching for) Somebody like you to hold me until the night is through (Someone, I'm searching) Somebody like you (Someone, I'm looking) I'm looking Someone, where are you) For someone like you (Someone, to hold me) To hold my hand (Someone, to show me) In times of trouble (Someone, I will find you) Just like you do Somebody like you (I'm looking for) Somebody like you to hold me until the night is through Somebody like you (keep searching for) Somebody like you to hold me until the night is through
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Mar 2, 2025
Mar 2, 2025 at 5:14 AM UTC
Somebody Like You
Silhouettes of lovers as they dance throughout the night Iridescent colors on a flower soon to die Faceless images that lash out in the final scene Horrified to realize this isn't a mere dream Will you search with me for means of unity In a world that doesn't care Time is an eternity, a star filled galaxy That leads nowhere Life is like and endless road, a fateful tragedy We seldom share Picture perfect memories that are dusted off the shelf A rose that wilts through endless nights seeks light to nurture health Whispered voices echo from within a silent rage Images that mirror all the changes to be made Will you search with me for trust and honesty In a world that doesn't care Time is an eternity, a star filled galaxy That leads nowhere Life is like and endless road, a fateful tragedy We seldom share Kaleidoscopic tapestries Reflecting posibilities Sculpting out in magesty A love that can endure Time is an eternity, a star filled galaxy That leads nowhere Life is like and endless road, a fateful tragedy We seldom share
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Mar 2, 2025
Mar 2, 2025 at 5:02 AM UTC
Metaphor II (Winter's Mystique)
__Shi-Narrative | Yin__ Twelve days have passed, and no word comes to me, no painted stroke, no ink upon the page. I fear the silence, yet I picture her, a solitary figure, far away. She seeks the earth, to ground her restless soul, the water's flow, to cleanse her troubled mind. The fire's heat, to forge a stronger will, the wind's soft sigh, to whisper ancient truths, ___Beyond the Element Mountains___, she must roam. She walks the paths where granite peaks arise, where rivers wind through valleys, deep and green. She feels the heat of embers, glowing bright, the rustling leaves, a language she can hear. I see her face, reflected in the stone, a mirror to the strength she holds within. She seeks the balance, lost within the storm, the harmony that silence can impart, a journey inward, where her spirit flies. I wait for her, a shadow in the room, where empty scrolls and brushes gather dust. I trace her image, on the window pane, a phantom artist, painting absent days. I hear her footsteps, in the falling rain, a distant echo, of her coming home. I feel the longing, that the silence breeds, the ache of absence, in the heart's long hall, a story written, in the waiting time. She will return, with wisdom in her eyes, a quiet strength, that silence has refined. She will bring stories, of the mountain's crest, the river's journey, the fire's burning grace. And I will listen, to her whispered tales, of ancient elements, and inner peace. For in her journey, love has found its way, to bridge the distance, that the silence made, where spirits meet, ___Beyond the Element Mountains___. ---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- __Ci-Meditative | Yang__ Twelve suns have risen, twelve pale moons have waned, and silence stretches, a vast, unyielding sea. No ink-stained paper, no painted breath arrives, no whispered echo of your distant voice. I picture you, beyond the city's hum, a soul adrift, where ancient elements reside. The earth holds steady, where your bare feet tread, a grounding force where turmoil starts to cease, a silent journey, ___Beyond the Element Mountains.___ The water's flow, a cleansing, cool embrace, washes away the doubts, the fears, the stains. The fire's dance, a flicker in your eyes, ignites the passion, where resolve takes hold. The wind, a restless spirit, whispers truths, through rustling leaves, a language understood. The metal gleams, a mirror to your soul, reflecting strength, a clarity reborn, a quiet passage through a world unseen. I trace your steps, a phantom on the path, imagining the landscapes you explore. The granite peaks, the river's silver thread, the burning embers, the sigh of forest breeze. I build a shrine of thoughts, a mental space, where your reflection lingers, calm and deep. My mind, a canvas where your image lives, a portrait painted with imagined light, a patient vigil, where hope begins to bloom. The silence lingers, heavy, yet serene, a space for growth, a pause where love endures. I trust the journey, where your spirit flies, to find the answers, hidden in the stones. And when you return, with eyes that hold the dawn, I will embrace the wisdom you have found. For in the stillness, love's true strength is shown, a bond unbroken, by the passing days, where silence lives, ___Beyond the Element Mountains___.
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Feb 28, 2025
Feb 28, 2025 at 5:35 PM UTC
Beyond the Element Mountains (2025)
__Shi-Narrative | Yin__ Twelve days have passed, and no word comes to me, no painted stroke, no ink upon the page. I fear the silence, yet I picture her, a solitary figure, far away. She seeks the earth, to ground her restless soul, the water's flow, to cleanse her troubled mind. The fire's heat, to forge a stronger will, the wind's soft sigh, to whisper ancient truths, ___Beyond the Element Mountains___, she must roam. She walks the paths where granite peaks arise, where rivers wind through valleys, deep and green. She feels the heat of embers, glowing bright, the rustling leaves, a language she can hear. I see her face, reflected in the stone, a mirror to the strength she holds within. She seeks the balance, lost within the storm, the harmony that silence can impart, a journey inward, where her spirit flies. I wait for her, a shadow in the room, where empty scrolls and brushes gather dust. I trace her image, on the window pane, a phantom artist, painting absent days. I hear her footsteps, in the falling rain, a distant echo, of her coming home. I feel the longing, that the silence breeds, the ache of absence, in the heart's long hall, a story written, in the waiting time. She will return, with wisdom in her eyes, a quiet strength, that silence has refined. She will bring stories, of the mountain's crest, the river's journey, the fire's burning grace. And I will listen, to her whispered tales, of ancient elements, and inner peace. For in her journey, love has found its way, to bridge the distance, that the silence made, where spirits meet, ___Beyond the Element Mountains___. ---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- __Ci-Meditative | Yang__ Twelve suns have risen, twelve pale moons have waned, and silence stretches, a vast, unyielding sea. No ink-stained paper, no painted breath arrives, no whispered echo of your distant voice. I picture you, beyond the city's hum, a soul adrift, where ancient elements reside. The earth holds steady, where your bare feet tread, a grounding force where turmoil starts to cease, a silent journey, ___Beyond the Element Mountains.___ The water's flow, a cleansing, cool embrace, washes away the doubts, the fears, the stains. The fire's dance, a flicker in your eyes, ignites the passion, where resolve takes hold. The wind, a restless spirit, whispers truths, through rustling leaves, a language understood. The metal gleams, a mirror to your soul, reflecting strength, a clarity reborn, a quiet passage through a world unseen. I trace your steps, a phantom on the path, imagining the landscapes you explore. The granite peaks, the river's silver thread, the burning embers, the sigh of forest breeze. I build a shrine of thoughts, a mental space, where your reflection lingers, calm and deep. My mind, a canvas where your image lives, a portrait painted with imagined light, a patient vigil, where hope begins to bloom. The silence lingers, heavy, yet serene, a space for growth, a pause where love endures. I trust the journey, where your spirit flies, to find the answers, hidden in the stones. And when you return, with eyes that hold the dawn, I will embrace the wisdom you have found. For in the stillness, love's true strength is shown, a bond unbroken, by the passing days, where silence lives, ___Beyond the Element Mountains___.
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You are, The wind in my breath, The sun on my face, The love in my heart, The scent in my nose, The whisper in my ear, The sweet caress on my lips, The embrace in my arms, The ground beneath me, The hand in my hand. You are all of these, and more, My dragon, my tiger, my protector, my love, my friend, my partner, my Yin to my Yang. Two parts that make a whole, Inseparable and yet contradictory. Self-perpetuating. Being apart from you is one of the most difficult parts. Yet I will endure.
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Jan 21, 2025
Jan 21, 2025 at 9:51 PM UTC
Endurance (2024)
So still she lies, Sleeping. A cold room Cold thoughts. Under cover of cotton and linen. A cold lonely wind Cries outside Longing to find solace In the warmth of our home But finding only that it devourers By its own devices What it so desperately desires. Pain in my brow Forged with hers. Sharing breaks Up the pain-- Comfort of depression's transitory end. Why do you hurt the ones you love When you want only peace?! A lover of the land Must plough the earth for yield Break the ground in fury To prepare it for seed. This pain awaits our company Like a bottle to a drunkard Or a needle to a ****** Comfort is pain Pain is comfort In this violent serenity As the calm peaceful sea Can in one moment Turn into a tumultuous gale. Is love for the using?! Can a person justify Putting lines of age on the face And gray hairs on the head Of the one they love?! So many carry this burden. Love shares common ground-- Seasons for ploughing and planting; And harvest, The season of closure. So still she lies Beside me. A cold room Warmer thoughts. Under cover of cotton and linen. Under cover of compassion And understanding.
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Jan 23, 2017
Jan 23, 2017 at 12:23 AM UTC
So Still She Lies, Sleeping
I behave like a baby many hours of the day Please believe I don't decide to be this way Someday ill learn to stifle my tears The sogginess blurring my eyes will clear When fleeing fears Run straight into a wall Instead of arms so I end up on the concrete and crawl And there I ponder the cause of our confrontations Looking for obstacle blocking negotiation Both our lungs breathing in identical air Clouds of smoke stop from witnessing what's really there And I am blinded I am afraid to admit I am lost with clenched jaw refuse to submit But little by little realize I'm in the wrong Too stubborn to surrender I stagger along Eventually begin losing hope of finding our way back You grab the reins and somehow steer us on the right track Sometimes touch your surface and my fingers melt through skin Can't tell if a nightmare or a dream we're living in I would give any belongings for us to have a fresh start Careless and free No wounds on your heart In blue hues created I tread water so deep Listen for answers but hear no peep Earth on axis keeps spinning around Days passing quickly I lie on the ground I'm afraid to move too fast so I end up standing still I feel the person you desire wears shoes I cannot fill Your warmth a blessing that I truly don't deserve Putting sun in my sky but what purpose do I serve? Your magnificence reminder of everything I'm not So busy drowning in sorrows can't consider the good I've got Can't imagine a world without watching your smile Yet I take it for granted by acting hostile I long to unfold like a paper plane Flatten creases so I can translate contents of your brain If I could press a button I'd erase all your concern A blank slate is impossible so trust I must gradually earn So I'll write words on pages until you finally agree You are the only one with the privilege of having me It is my wish you open your door Disarm your defenses protecting your core I know in absence the nights can seem long Will never break because connection is strong You take up a large portion of my head Sometimes don't call just thinking about you instead Thanks for existing and even more for being there There are moments I weep over statements said but I never doubt you care You are simply trying to share wisdom with advice How you express cannot always be positive and nice But daily impact you have on my routine Bigger than you are aware of Though results are rarely seen You are refuge from the storm when it rains too severely to stand Shelter to protect my safety though why I will never understand Our souls balance like yin-and-yang I am shade You are white light Struggles threaten us You pull me close and I'm sure everything will be alright
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Jun 21, 2024
Jun 21, 2024 at 2:42 AM UTC
A Poem For Daniel
I behave like a baby many hours of the day Please believe I don't decide to be this way Someday ill learn to stifle my tears The sogginess blurring my eyes will clear When fleeing fears Run straight into a wall Instead of arms so I end up on the concrete and crawl And there I ponder the cause of our confrontations Looking for obstacle blocking negotiation Both our lungs breathing in identical air Clouds of smoke stop from witnessing what's really there And I am blinded I am afraid to admit I am lost with clenched jaw refuse to submit But little by little realize I'm in the wrong Too stubborn to surrender I stagger along Eventually begin losing hope of finding our way back You grab the reins and somehow steer us on the right track Sometimes touch your surface and my fingers melt through skin Can't tell if a nightmare or a dream we're living in I would give any belongings for us to have a fresh start Careless and free No wounds on your heart In blue hues created I tread water so deep Listen for answers but hear no peep Earth on axis keeps spinning around Days passing quickly I lie on the ground I'm afraid to move too fast so I end up standing still I feel the person you desire wears shoes I cannot fill Your warmth a blessing that I truly don't deserve Putting sun in my sky but what purpose do I serve? Your magnificence reminder of everything I'm not So busy drowning in sorrows can't consider the good I've got Can't imagine a world without watching your smile Yet I take it for granted by acting hostile I long to unfold like a paper plane Flatten creases so I can translate contents of your brain If I could press a button I'd erase all your concern A blank slate is impossible so trust I must gradually earn So I'll write words on pages until you finally agree You are the only one with the privilege of having me It is my wish you open your door Disarm your defenses protecting your core I know in absence the nights can seem long Will never break because connection is strong You take up a large portion of my head Sometimes don't call just thinking about you instead Thanks for existing and even more for being there There are moments I weep over statements said but I never doubt you care You are simply trying to share wisdom with advice How you express cannot always be positive and nice But daily impact you have on my routine Bigger than you are aware of Though results are rarely seen You are refuge from the storm when it rains too severely to stand Shelter to protect my safety though why I will never understand Our souls balance like yin-and-yang I am shade You are white light Struggles threaten us You pull me close and I'm sure everything will be alright
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60
What wonder with Poetry in Prose, and Prose in Poetry, those two together made at once, what Art is that whilst those trespass borders of what’s cognitive and not, my true form of wording and existing being as that! That is a feat, mingle those two together, make one fluent into train of events by the other and the other make the former an extravagance that should reign on us! The most forming way of expression verbally and not! And what experience would that be if we took under account again the spaces and the “Enter” key between verses in a classic poem structure, to think how that changes everything and what respect it demands in each line differently!
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Aug 26, 2020
Aug 26, 2020 at 6:05 PM UTC
Prose & Poetry
Hanggang kailan ako magiging ganito? gabi-gabi na lang tawag ko ang pangalan mo Kung pwede ka lang maibalik nitong mga luha ko Noon pa siguro’y nagawa ko na at ikaw ay nasa piling ko na’t ako ngayo’y yakap mo. Gabi-gabi na lang, nasa isip kita gabi-gabi ring dasal na panaginip kita dinig mo ba ang mga iyak ko at aking mga sana? “Isang beses man lang sana tayo ay nagkasama”. Ano kayang pakiramdam mahawakan ang kamay mo? Sa tuwa kaya ay mapatalon ako? Mga pisngi ko ba’y mamumula o manginginig ang katawan ko? Naranasan ko man lang sanang sa tabi mo’y minsang maupo. Sa takdang panahon kaya’y makita rin kita? Ang oras ba natin ay sa wakas magtagpo na? Isang beses man lang sana masabi kong mahal kita Isang beses man lang sana... Isang beses man lang sana ....
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Jul 19, 2020
Jul 19, 2020 at 3:12 AM UTC
Yin at Yang
Morning is such a desperate lover. How else could she make you meet her if she didn't steal your dreams at night?
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Jan 25, 2020
Jan 25, 2020 at 7:37 PM UTC
Insomnia
Twilight and rains followed us here Daylight and city were left behind The ancient temple lies in its lonely solemnity Intruders, we had met the end of our world Here the opposites meet The day was meeting the night The summer was meeting the autumn The civilized was meeting the primitive The man was meeting the woman No one can truly understand happiness Without having reached here When opposites finally meet When two realities mingle one with another Boundaries give way to freedom The present flows into the future While the old temple remains timeless.
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Nov 30, 2019
Nov 30, 2019 at 12:26 AM UTC
When Opposites Meet
Gets no love the one who doesn't love. It's not Karma, but simple logic. Even if he does, it's a sort of odds, Making the canon candid. It's not Karma, but simple logic; The misanthrope is alone - Who doesn't like water, will suffocate in, Who doesn't like life, will be perishing in. The misanthrope is alone. This is all a matter of nature- One may hide in a mass like serpent, Still being poisonous, threatening. This is all a matter of nature; The old song of yin and yang- Darkness isn't overthrown by brightness, But they fulfill the scheme of destiny. The old song of yin and yang- The side uncursed by goodness Is the side blessed with senselessness, Extreme plainness and severity. The side uncursed by goodness Fulfills the dark side of the bright - Without looking for doing the right Since it's all self-implemented. Fulfilling the dark side of the bright, Giving chance for the light, And bearing all the dark of the moon, He may be a hero, the antigone. Giving chance for the light, Getting no love while another does, We - people - serve perfect bad examples For there's no hero without Antihero. Getting no love while another does, Even if getting that's out of odds; Darkness isn't overthrown by brightness, But each fulfills a scheme in destiny. We've been and we'll be gone even as antigone.
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Oct 8, 2019
Oct 8, 2019 at 7:57 AM UTC
Pantoum of the Antihero
Push and pull Yin and yang How is this The only song I sang Close and far Wrong and right How can it be We always fight Ups and downs Mistakes and remorse Why do we always Make things worse Human nature Wish we were greater. Push and pull Love and hate How is this My forever mate Close and far Pity and war Why is it always An ending with a scar. Ups and downs. Depression and joy Oh why do I miss Being with that boy Human nature Wish we were greater Why don't we begin Appreciate what's within.
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Aug 1, 2019
Aug 1, 2019 at 5:54 PM UTC
Tui and La