"advises" poems
I am half-Chinese and a half Filipino-Spanish.
I have only learnt to speak Filipino my whole life.
The best advises I have received is that there is no right or wrong,
that labels does not always help.
That no matter what, I should just go
and "Live my life", or "Sing in Full Voice, Until Then".
Attentive to a fault to the work or person at hand.
Because of routine and living demands, sometimes I
only pay attention to what is available or given to me.
Like the quest for the Spices of the East, I could no longer live the same way when the time came. I had to learn preservation and other flavors.
In a Asian Food Show, someone shares
How some later generation Chinese had to study their own native language in secret between 1966 to 1998.
Stories of how their migrant or refugee heritage have made them scapegoats of many local tensions.
And varieties of words and ingredients also native to Chinese and later generations that lived offshore.
Many of us now in the thrash of our collective songs
towards healing and full living as humanity, continuing
refugees and wanderers in our own ways.
Where we see our indigenous-selves and our oppressor-selves,
is not as difficult as we are usually made to,
in a world of artificial
demands and surpluses.
One old song gently reminds me
in many languages singing,
as another bowl of handmade noodles
breaks open into countless random pieces:
We are only passing through earth.
Made to experience, and let go of our fears
and limitations.To gather our remains so that
it is inanimate buildings and objects that are used
by the living instead, and nothing is left behind.
To not leave a trace. To learn how to love.#
Sep 3, 2018
Sep 3, 2018 at 1:27 AM UTC
Edna's alter ego ORLOK advises you not to trifle with him in his 8th poem
Who would dare to mock the great Count Orlok,
Mighty vampire bat and ace sodomiser?
No one at all, I tell you, my old **** -
Against that I'd be a strong advisor.
But if anyone e'er dared to steal my poems
I'd surely rip their ******* throat apart;
They'd be opening a veritable can of worms -
And who cares if it were a guy or a ****
So beware of stealing aught from this wicket bat
Who flutters above your house by night;
I'll surely find out just where you're at
And then may Satan pity you in your plight.
Anyone who steals my poems is condemned to Hell
And their death pains will be truly grotty;
Since, in spite of the really awful smell,
I'll stuff eight inches up their dying botty.
Jan 20, 2015
Jan 20, 2015 at 12:29 PM UTC
Here come I to my own again,
Fed, forgiven and known again,
Claimed by bone of my bone again
And cheered by flesh of my flesh.
The fatted calf is dressed for me,
But the husks have greater zest for me,
I think my pigs will be best for me,
So I’m off to the Yards afresh.
I never was very refined, you see,
(And it weighs on my brother’s mind, you see)
But there’s no reproach among swine, d’you see,
For being a bit of a swine.
So I’m off with wallet and staff to eat
The bread that is three parts chaff to wheat,
But glory be!—there’s a laugh to it,
Which isn’t the case when we dine.
My father glooms and advises me,
My brother sulks and despises me,
And Mother catechises me
Till I want to go out and swear.
And, in spite of the butler’s gravity,
I know that the servants have it I
Am a monster of moral depravity,
And I’m ****** if I think it’s fair!
I wasted my substance, I know I did,
On riotous living, so I did,
But there’s nothing on record to show I did
Worse than my betters have done.
They talk of the money I spent out there—
They hint at the pace that I went out there—
But they all forget I was sent out there
Alone as a rich man’s son.
So I was a mark for plunder at once,
And lost my cash (can you wonder?) at once,
But I didn’t give up and knock under at once,
I worked in the Yards, for a spell,
Where I spent my nights and my days with hogs.
And shared their milk and maize with hogs,
Till, I guess, I have learned what pays with hogs
And—I have that knowledge to sell!
So back I go to my job again,
Not so easy to rob again,
Or quite so ready to sob again
On any neck that’s around.
I’m leaving, Pater. Good-bye to you!
God bless you, Mater! I’ll write to you!
I wouldn’t be impolite to you,
But, Brother, you are a hound!
3.8k
Like a character hoarding advises like jewelry
from a story like Fantastic Beasts, what do you think
what are the best life advises you have hoarded so far?
Sharing some of mine before they get stuck
in another schedule in the slaughterhouse inventory:
"Wisest is he that knows he does not know"
"Just live your life"
"Sing in Full Voice, Until Then"
"What are you doing here?"
"What is your plan?"
"Eat first"
Do not worry we have better villains
and heroes now than long time ago, I told my brother.
In turn, he made a song on a ukelele
after his little one cried and hid away the broken
CD collection of her brother. They called it together, the
"Last Supper Constellations".
His child said, "If there was a Creator. I would like to think He or She, like you or mama, would be kind. Would not that be swell?"
My brother shared with us one advise from his favorite collection,
"My friend had a family filled with orphans. Even when they could no longer afford to adopt, they continued to adopt children. I did not understand before, but I also did not forget his story." #
Sep 6, 2018
Sep 6, 2018 at 10:30 PM UTC
Shopping was the world first invitation to women,
a freedom to move out of her house. Initially,
Woman practiced shopping for vegetables and slowly
extended to garments/jewelry/white goods etc. Today,
the world has experiencing a better market due to
window shopping. The concept innovated by women,
the women who started window shopping has helped
the awareness of the market, The more the window shopping,
more the sales. The concept of window shopping
helped the textile industries to understand about their products.
The textile industries has developed in terms of marketing
say readymade, exchangeable, trial rooms, gifts coupons
are coz of women. Its encouraged the women to do
shopping effectively.
Facts about shopping. Customer who shop with their friends
tend to buy more costly products than when they shop alone.
Next, In terms of clothing, General advises is to buy
one garment at a time coz If you buy few dresses, You tend the use
the first selected dress more than the others. Buying 'Take Away'
in (costly) restaurant was the blinder coz restaurant charge more
for the ambience less for the food. Using cash on shopping,
you tend to spend less and you bargain more. Don't increase
your buying to eligible for discount coupon. A survey says
that 90% of the issued discount coupons are never redeemed.
Never shop on Discount Sale coz the best collection will be
taken off the shelf by the shopkeeper. The amazing fact,
If any one buy the best and costly clothes one size less than
the one normally uses, has brought down the weight
of that person.
Jan 16, 2016
Jan 16, 2016 at 8:54 PM UTC
If that Shirazi Turk would succeed in winning my heart
I'll give up Samarkand and Bukhara, solely for her Indian mole
Serve remained wine, Saki, cause you can't find in the paradise
Such a place as Ruknabad stream and Musall's gardens
Oh! these gypsies who are sweet and set the city to chaos
They drained heart from patience, as Turks take the pillages
My sweetheart's beauty doesn't need my imperfect love
How a beautiful face is in need of paint and powder and mole?
Talk about minstrels and wine, don't seek universe's secret
That is that, no one solved and will solve this enigma by logic
I knew beforehand from ever-improving charm that Joseph possessed
That love finally would bring Zulaikha out of her innocence
You talked to me badly, God forgive you, you said it well
Bitter answer is proper for that red-colored sugar-sweet lips
My soul, listen to advice, for blissful youths like more
That wise old's advises more than their own sweet lives
Hafez! you told Ghazals and pierced pearls, come sing fine
For your harmony in your poetry, Heaven weds Soraya!
May 28, 2019
May 28, 2019 at 12:10 AM UTC
The End Times
Repent, the zealot dinner guest, invited
For purposes of theological correctness, chides.
Repent, and sin no more, he advises, for the end is near.
But isn't that like asking a carnivore to turn vegan
Moments before the serving of a pampered calf's liver
I ask
he takes special care in the fall of a sparrow
The zealot replies, eyeing me as I set
My peas to one side with my fork.
Yes, but it was just that one, I retort.
His first.
Aug 25, 2015
Aug 25, 2015 at 3:01 AM UTC
Birds jump to the branches
of trees at sunrise,
But in the morning man
wrestles with whys.
Why do there seem to be
too many cuckoos?
Why chirping so noisy
what are the clues?
In morning the sleep
descends from its core,
and chittering of pigeons
hurts a man more.
There is a lot of tension
and a lot of stress.
Working late at night is a
suffering a mess.
Yes fatigue on mind,
whenever Man feels,
At times, smoking or
drinking appeals.
At roaming late night
the cosmos retort.
A Reckless freedom is
not its support.
Be it testy coca-cola or
a pizza or a cake,
Nature always opposes
without a mistake.
The sweet, the chicken,
the fish, juicy curd,
The cosmos advises
that these are absurd.
While Orderly pattern is
nature's workforce,
But freedom is nature of
a man of course.
As many are options and
choices so gobs.
A Man and this nature
are always at odds
Jan 8, 2022
Jan 8, 2022 at 11:33 PM UTC
the good old baritone advises her,
his sopranino daughter tweets disjoint,
arpeggio his point, her counterpoint
a syncopated rhythm of meter,
her high pitched protestations in her pleas,
and low-pitched grumbling sighings alternate,
as puntal, contrapuntal altercate,
to musically the rolling of her eyes,
his stern yet soft soprano wife defers,
while yielding to her baritone's movement,
conducting, though, the orchestrated theme,
as tenor, alto sons caesur' occurs,
her soothing background voice reveals eschewment,
with daughter's movement stuck 'tween measures' beams
(C)2012, Christos Rigakos
Jul 30, 2012
Jul 30, 2012 at 9:19 PM UTC
(be-tween and be-twixt)
———-
the most precious but precarious item
in our possess, value far above rubies,
this love overflows, but it drowns me
from within, for it has no home for
pleasured sharing and goes wasted, excreted
in tears and exhalations without destination
condition incurable, and the doctor advises,
projects, a life span rangebound from
***be-tween
and
be-twixt,***
imperative that this love be
disbursed, pressure relieved,
fluid and gases shared,
send it forth,
Doc behests,
nay,
begs,
you’re a decent human,
tell your tales,
follow your motto,
write those love poems,
always leave them laughing,
and give them love in smiles
all-the-whiles
bringing joyous relief to your clogged arteries,
all this the bare minimum,
for you must moreover grasp and clasp
your body to another, for this
the best transfer transfusion
of all your needed love needs
go be needed, be great, be lessened,
be all three
and never walk alone,
with just hope in your heart,
for the heart, automatically refills,
and this the best, medical opinion…
for all those with too many love poems
requiring expulsion and extrusion
Jul 22, 2023
Jul 22, 2023 at 9:14 AM UTC
you are so annoying...
you are so complicated..
you bring drama to my life..
you laugh at me...
you laugh with me...
you know all bout my crushes...
you know all bout my life every single detail..
you make me smile...
you irritate me..
you are my "philosophic talker"
you my ******** taker"
you give all wrong advises..
you scream at me with CAPITAL LETTERS..!! :)
you make me smile with all the "awwww..."
you are with me day and night..!!
and wen u get upset with me nothings all right..!! :(
even if people call us "lesbians" I DON'T CARE..!!!
because i know we have our share of crushes...lovers and admirers...that v both only know of..!!! :)
you have seen me in my bad..u have seen me in my best..
you have seen me going "tomboy " to "girly" for a guy..!! :)
you criticize me...i abuse you...and that is what makes us Best Friends Forever..!!!
i know i have ******* you royally..!! i know i have irritated you no end..!! thank you for bearing it all...thank you for standing by me!! thank you for taking my **** and lastly...thank you for STICKING AROUND AND LISTENING TO ME..!!!!!
LOVE YOU LOADS..!!!
P.S : We are not BFFs... WE ARE..
: Best Friend For Life Like Sisters And Always I Love You..!!!
Jan 26, 2013
Jan 26, 2013 at 10:55 AM UTC
This title, this challenge,
Has rested uncomfortably in IPad memory,
Storage unit for Poems Needing Composition,
Unwritten, unanswered, needy for resolution.
Today is a good day to answer.
You are the pause between my breaths,
A ledge to rest on, a stepping stone,
Without you, there is no next one.
You are audience faithful,
Scribbles, wordplay, jokes horrible,
Official Storer/Inspiration Sorcerer of my unending script.
You are shy critic, unwavering,
Deft, with feminine oversight,
Knowledgable proven, when silence, best.
You overfill my AM coffee cup,
The mug that advises sagely,
Be calm in you heart.
You overfill my PM cup nightly,
Knowing that even tho, can't sing or dance,
I need to, can do, can't do w/o you.
So lest, mistaken grievous,
You think, highly erroneous,
This poem is NOT about me babe,
This poem is entitled,
You,
How Much, Owed,
You.
Lest the answer be poetically muddled,
On this day, perfect weather, perfect clarity,
Unashamedly Everything.
Sept. 15th 2012
In bed, 8:22 am
NYC
---------------
Addendum June 29th 2012
This old soul loves you more. He cannot believe his good fortune,
This June, this one more perfect afternoon, my heart importunes,
Love my poetry like I love thee, and we will have the most
Perfect Union
Jun 29, 2013
Jun 29, 2013 at 5:56 PM UTC
It cuts deep.
to know your motives.
hidden in vast memories
you know within.
Fooling one's self
for once not to care.
but everyone sees
your wear and tear.
to the teardrops falling
the wounds you wished to heal.
agony is in the spirit
a love lost, he fears.
to the burst of emotions,
the hands of time you can't reverse.
people will always give you
advises you cannot seem to hear.
You finish your day
waiting for another tomorrow.
scars that time cannot heal
happiness you tend to borrow
Feb 22, 2013
Feb 22, 2013 at 2:39 AM UTC
I'll be honest
I'm not exactly sure how to write myself pretty
I don't think I'm capable of making desire out of words
Or forming the way I sound into something you would want to fall asleep to
I cannot mold my body into a figure that you would want next to yours for more than one night
I have more passion in myself than I know what to do with
I often give it out as hope for people to take in their hands, find something good in all of my chaos
Everyone always advises not to fall face first in love
Forgetting that the those who fall by accident
Often land the hardest
Hitting the ground full force
Cheek against the pavement
I was built with 206 bones in my body
And I will break all of them from my mistakes
Before I dare to stop falling
The crash is worth the high
Ask me every time when I am still hung over from yesterday
And I will always say yes
Having regrets has always seemed better
Than having nothing at all
I was born with steel layed out upon my chest
All of these attempts at language
Are done with the intention
Of removing some weight off of it
I have been made heavy by my own silence on too many occasions
At times I have been told not to speak
That my lips should be kept shut for protection
There are bolts on my jaw
My tongue is sandpaper
And I will risk grinding my teeth for the possibility of igniting a flame
Inside someone who has spent years trying to find a lit match
Let me be the thing that starts a fire
Rhyming doesn't always incite romance
But I can try my best
See the problem is that there are so many ways to say I love you
But not enough to make them love you
The problem is having a million things to say
And a million ways to say them
But not knowing the right way how to
There is no right or wrong here
Only hold back or release
So stutter instead of staying quiet
It is much more beautiful on paper
To disregard format, or style
And structure
I will mess up
As best as I can
And in the morning
Look at it again
Remember how it felt
To live
Then reread,
Review,
And edit.
Jan 7, 2015
Jan 7, 2015 at 4:56 PM UTC
The voice from the screen
a face that's never seen
advises you unknowingly
blurring the lines
one day at a time
until control is complete
Mar 21, 2015
Mar 21, 2015 at 1:00 PM UTC
Palembang, 29 September 2010
Thanks Grand Ma for taking care of me
Thanks for the time you've spent just for me
Thanks for many advises you said
Thanks for everything in my short 15th/18th years
I Love You Grand Ma
And sorry for what I've done wrong
Sorry I made mistakes many time
Sorry I'm still a little girl in the room
Sorry for hard to say I Love You
Sorry for hurt that you've got
Cause I just don't know what to do
Wish, I could give you the bestest
To make you proud and smile for me
We know nothing is impossible
And I believing my self, Someday
I'll give you everything you need
Love Ya Grand Ma...
(Now you are not around anymore
You are the shining star above
Your body so fragile now
But your soul is lives in our hearts
Sorry for made you cry
Sorry if your husband, your children and your grandchildren made you sad before you leave
Sorry is the last thing that we could do
But we'll never stop to say "I LOVE YOU"
Rest In Peace Nana
Jan 2, 2014
Jan 2, 2014 at 3:11 AM UTC
*
To dispute our LOVE is not my desire
No art or knowledge will suffice
The sufferings of our TRUE LOVE
Because I (YOU/WE) know you LOVE me too
We've friends abound, & foes are not desired
What I seek is a LOVERz who LOVES me
O seeker BELOVEDz, please do not leave me....!
Oh... Poor LOVERz,
Oh... Poor BELOVEDz.
No friends can give one a lip to kiss
That a LOVERz-BELOVEDz desires
No pearl of wealth empowers me
Nor a spiritual guru heals me
Those days are gone when
Anyone other than my BELOVED LOVERz
Can help me sail through this sorrow
Every helping hands tells me
The advises I do not desire in LOVE
If you want to break FREE from life
Do not moralize- ethics and integrity
Just plunder on to LOVE till your desires
Humans are masters of yearnings
Receiving is a human trait of desire
LOVERz-BELOVEDz are slaves of insights
Giving a blessing for the one who LOVES
Oh.. my giver of LOVE
You rose my grief's flame
At least ask LOVERz-BELOVEDz
What does LOVE-CONNECT desires
Do not ****** out God/dess of LOVE
Stop for a moment, ask what SOUL seeks
Do not desert journeys of LOVE
Do not silence the heart's speak
The ups and downs nurtures our TRUST
That forms the bond of TRUE LOVE
The sufferings of our TRUE LOVE
*
Jan 12, 2019
Jan 12, 2019 at 12:11 AM UTC
I can't feel for a fool.
Who lost everything in a divorce.
It probably was your decision.
It probably was your choice.
Then again, it might not have been.
Once upon a dream, you both were good friends.
And most divorces happens cause you let another enter in.
The cars, the mansion and the money too.
Only high light the seriousness of your trust.
Which seems amongst the rich not to exist.
I can't feel for a fool.
Who simply goes broke?
Bad investments, bad decision and bad choices.
When they fail to listen to their inner voices.
Which advises them better than associates.
Just listening to their commentary.
You come across seeing it as a laughing matter.
The athlete.
The businessman chasing women as a sport.
Sad thing about all of this mess.
The women that played the game ends up getting the blame.
And a loser too.
For, when he's broke and desolute.
Whom are they going to find to foot the financial bill.
The life style.
The child support.
The alimony.
That many needs to survive.
After all, the fool no longer can assist you.
Cause from looking at him.
He's hurting too.
I guess this is why this poem title the fool?
Dec 26, 2012
Dec 26, 2012 at 10:24 AM UTC
Holding a mind and a heart working together
Fighting the moral conflicts that never end forever
They are the dreamers and the believers
Living a life different from the regulars
Emotions play an important role
Practicality dwells in the corner of the hole
They like to be in a state of utopia
Constantly looking for a better euphoria
But that is often sensed as a mistake and not as a gift
It creates imbalance and quantifies the reason of sorrow
Advises overflow to bring you down to reality
But they will never understand how hard it is
To ask someone to be somebody not meant to be
Mar 20, 2017
Mar 20, 2017 at 10:33 PM UTC
mewing, mooing & mewling
(~ for Steve Reimer ~)
legged up and in three, 1, 2, 3, +++
count-’em, poems, the third be this,
as the Northwest Pacific reviews a
recent scribble to which I made reference
to a maternity ward of newbie p~babies,
all mine (!) howling write me, write me!
god, what an awful orchestral, tempting
me to pull the covers up as the National
Weather Service 15 minutes too late,
advises of severe weather, lighting and
thunder, thunder, thunder (imagine Dragons)
between the accursed meteorology, and
the heterology of my babies, all so unlike,
born from different mothers and implanted,
by you my brothers and sisters, the cacophonous
phrase “mewing, mooing & mewling” bellows
and bullies it’s way to the forefront of the list
cause its freshest, ‘jess like my 18 oz. of porcelain
encased Blue Mountain Java and Fat Free Fairlife
cow’s milk, and sadly bullies get away with it far,
far, too many times…
and with that introduction I bid you a fond good day / bye,
as I wimped, whine and woebetide y’all if you’re fool
enough to think multiple births is a piece of cake,
most likely you’ll be howling, not just, you know,
mewing, mooing & mewling
May 23, 2024
May 23, 2024 at 11:17 AM UTC
I have an unusual friend. A small man with charms of a gentle redneck. He holds court in his garage for his acquaintances, those free or at large. His demeanour is rustic, but his wisdom self-taught. His name is Byron ( I know, it's too good to be true), not lordly, but Byron likes the girls and light brew. Byron says, “I'll kick your *** every time we play golf. Not yet. His voice is chasmic and often influenced by distractions. And then on a cold, witch-tit, heathcliffe driving winter's day, with the wood stove well-fired, a rascally friend opens the door, and Byron yells, “Shut the door. Do you think wood grows on trees.” On leaving the same day he advises me, “Don't slip on the ice. It's frozen.” I didn't tell you Byron has one eye. Better yet, a patch on the other. He looks more like post Frodo ignoring the “Don't run with scissors" warning from Mother Baggins, than he does Lord B. I dropped my pipe once on his garage floor. A special pipe. It's my bowling pipe. I don't smoke tobacco. Byron thinks it clever to call me at work and tell my secretary he and I are bowling after school. Byron mixes metaphors. So, my pipe has dropped. Byron says, “ Let me help. Three eyes are better than two.” His cleverness can backfire. I tried to be sensitive, but there was neither an honourable or dishonourable way out. Byron hung an oak wood sign near his stove. He makes his own stain, and rubs it evenly in circles with his wife's old nylons. “It's great for the *********** he'll quip. The two ***** of the sign are joined with leather straps and stainless steel studded to the wood. The letters painted within the stencilled lines are a dark, rich mixture. The joke. “Lift flap in case of fire.” Normally one lifts the flap. “Not now stupit. In case of fire.” I discreetly pointed out the t.The sign quietly disappeared and was never mentioned again. He'll never kick my ***
May 29, 2014
May 29, 2014 at 11:59 PM UTC
fwoah again advises that unless your family have lived in england for the last 300 years you are not allowed to live in britain unless you are the following
chinese
irish
scot
welsh
french
indigenous english
arab
indian
japan
singapore
indonesia
italian
spanish
all african
persian
iranian
australian
usa
south american
canada
phoenetian
all europe as long as over 300 years in britain
the following are not welcome and
must leave
german mafia
Brazilian mafia
pakistani mafia
norwegian mafia
portugese mafia
and newzealand mafia
Jan 4, 2021
Jan 4, 2021 at 2:07 PM UTC