"bes" poems
Itula mo
Ang pagbitaw niya
Itula mo lahat
Ng sakit
Itula mo lahat
Ng hapdi
Itula mo lahat
Ng pighati
Itula mo bes
Wag **** itulo..
Ang luha para sakanya
Itula mo lang
Wag **** itulo
Oct 29, 2016
Oct 29, 2016 at 8:45 AM UTC
Kailan ba akong pwede magalit?
Minsan tinitiis ko na lang talaga.
Hindi ko alam kung anong maaring mangyari
Pag nagtanim ako ng galit sa puso ko.
Kailan ba akong pwede magalit?
Kapag nasanay ka na nakangiti ako?
Yun pala, sinisira mo na rin ako,
Kailan ba akong pwedeng magalit?
Kapag alam ko na, "bes, ikaw na lang talaga nakikita ko...
I’ll always look up to you."
Hanggang sa ikaw na rin ang magpapabagsak sa akin.
Naniwala ako na totoo yung mga sinasabi mo sa akin.
Naniwala ako pero kasalanan kong maniwala sa'yo.
Paumahin kasi mali atang tao ang aking napuntahan.
Kasalanan kong gusto ko matuto tungkol sa'yo kasi ayaw ng iba.
Kasalanan ko na nagpakatotoo ako sa una pa lang.
Kasalanan ko na tayo ay naging magkaibigan.
Kasalanan kong makita kung gaano ka kabait sa akin
kasi ginusto kitang makasama.
Kailan ba akong pwedeng magalit?
Kapag ako ba'y patay na?
Kapag patay na ako,
Kaya mo ba ako buhayin pa?
“Oo”, o “baka”. Pero, ‘di mo na mabababalik
Ang dating kaibigan **** gusto kang samahan...
Kahit ilang segundo lamang o sandali.
Oo, nirerespeto kita dahil dapat lang.
Pero, ‘wag ka magsinungaling.
Dahil ‘di mo alam na ika’y nananakit.
Pinapatay mo na talaga ako, sakim.
Kaibigan? Sino ka nga ba talaga?
Ikaw ba talaga ay isa kong kilala?
O baka nasa mundo akong wala akong halaga.
Yung tipo na mas may halaga pa ang
Bente-sinko na sentimo kaysa sa akin.
Kaibigan nga ba? O napagtripan lang?
Kailan ba akong pwedeng magalit?
Nasanay ka na nga sa aking mga tawa’t ngiti...
Minsan rin pala ay ‘di mo na kilala ang aking mga labi.
Minsa’y parang totoo ang mga sinasabi.
Pero sana naman ay binasa mo ang aking mga mata,
At sana rin ay ika’y nakakakita.
Sana mabasa mo ako gamit ang iyong puso,
O, hanap ng hanap, yun pala’y wala.
Hays, huwag na at baka ako ay umasa pa.
Bakit naman ako maghahanap ng mga bagay na wala na?
Kasi magmumukha akong walang utak,
Na hindi tinatanggap ang katotohanan.
Hindi mo naman rin ako kayang ipapasok sa mundo mo,
Nakapagtataka, ngunit napakagulo at napakakomplikado.
May minamahal man akong kapatid mo,
Minsan ay nadadamay sa sakit dahil sa’yo.
Ang puso ko ay nasa bawat isa...
Nasaan naman ang sa’yo? Wala ba?
Oo, ang puso ko ay nag-aalab sa mga apoy,
Ngunit nagmamahal kahit naususunog at nawawala na.
Oo, galit na galit ako pero mahal pa rin kita,
Kaibigan ko, ikaw nga ba ay isa?
Kaibigan ko, kailan ko ba masasabi ang aking nadarama?
Oo, ako’y minsan walang utak pero nagmamahal.
Walang utak, bulag, pero may puso parin.
Ayoko na masaktan, at ‘wag mo na ako papasukin...
Sa mundo **** parang kathang-isip lamang.
Oo, mga sinungaling at ako’y iyong pina-ikut-ikutin.
Huwag mo na lang ako muling paniwalain
At ‘wag na ring pagud-pagurin...
Kaibigan, paumanhin, ika’y dapat respetuhin.
Kailan ba akong pwedeng magalit?
Feb 28, 2018
Feb 28, 2018 at 5:06 AM UTC
I pride,
In many things.
Little and big.
Existing and imaginary.
Useful and unnecessary.
Almost ubiquitously.
I take pride in my mind, most of all.
In the many wonders it brings me.
It lets me wave
at the voyagers that zip by
as I swim,
weightless and cold
in the eternal stardust of would bes.
It lets me simmer
in the memory of a younger day.
Of all the loves loved
and the ones lost
I pride the ones that never gave way.
Like old paintings
stowed away deeply
fragments,
moving,
ageing effortlessly.
I take pride in the fact that I have one true friend
and not many.
I don't know why I take pride in it though
I would understand culling a herd, if I had any.
I take pride in a soul that has learnt to love so deeply.
Deeper than the rivers of the world
and tumultuous as the sea
I take pride in my dog, sitting
when I command it.
I take pride in the fact that,
At least he understands it.
I take pride in the words that I think
and regret the ones I don't.
I take pride in understanding the existence of truth
and its relentless need to run and hide away.
I take pride in my people
and in their endless rebellion against sanity.
I take pride in their manic displays of affection
despite their distaste for the same affectations.
I take pride in their synchronized entropy,
beautiful,
much like the death of a galaxy.
I take pride in the songs I hear,
the sonnets of love and despair.
of first discoveries,
and fevered dreams.
Of Kings and conquerors
and knights against the regime.
Of their legends that soar and rise and
go beyond where the grave lies.
I take pride in the mirror.
Though broken and shattered beyond repair
it bestows me with honesty
about the one that I care.
I take pride in all these aberrations,
in these tiny little manipulations.
These effervescent little marionettes
forever dancing within constellations.
Feb 19, 2018
Feb 19, 2018 at 11:30 PM UTC
Millions of tiny could-bes
Swim upstream in hope
That they might someday
Grow up to release
Their brothers and sisters
All over your face
In a gooey, sticky mess
That makes it on the internet
So that millions of other
Tiny could-bes
Can be freed from their
Bulging testicular prisons.
Aug 23, 2012
Aug 23, 2012 at 8:21 PM UTC
The air I breathe,
Which gasps and sighs;
My journey of choice guided
All its winds and there were
The words my soul had yet
To Melody.
Along the sky, next to
The petals stolen and the birds
Feathery flight there was an Angel
Sobbing in blue and whose tears
When hit on ground did stroke alive
Many a lily white bloom.
And the air I breathed
Caught the Daughters of God
In mid flight and split the tongue
Into words for Poet Saint to verse
The world in birth of inklings.
Near a sonnet yet born
A coronet of masks lay drawn
Upon the faces of nymphs I saw
The fiery lust behind open waters
Chanting to sailors revealing their
Naked spirits and seducing in words
That seemed a song from some
Romantic whale.
In the orchestra of stars,
Breathing in constellations up
Upon a pedestaled Word,
The sumptuous flows of winged words
Played like sweet violins and the chorus
Was mine to orchestrate,
Both slow and methodical,
Paced and volatile.
And I breathe,
The breath of lovers like a steed
And a mare upon whose back
Sits Eros shooting arrows into
My very soul romantically evoking
The man in me who believes
In the songs of love,
A woman whom sings them aloud
And along the moist of her lips
Sits the poem I have yet
To write.
Oh deep is the breath,
The Lovers combine in perverse
Yet controlled light,
The naked souls are entwined
In a living light of crystalline
Bodies mankind deep passionate
Starry eyed poetry.
Ah the winds that be life!
Times of sorrow that fill the void
Like restless cries of a motherless
Child, and a walk among the tombstones
Brings about the rage of death,
Both tranquil and terrifying,
These words are they that bleed.
I breathe the words in open air,
The Shepard winds upon
My ink, the poem dances light
And lovely adorned with sighs
And sorrows, would bes and regrets,
The tender ferocity of the winds.
Jan 7, 2016
Jan 7, 2016 at 6:14 PM UTC
Kiss her. Kiss her. Kiss
her beautiful and let her
nestle in your arms
Bring your bristly mouth
to ours, and give us the stars
we've been waiting for.
Sing. Take the guitar
and strum the strings but careful;
we might fall in love.
You deserve credit
for your courage and backbone.
Boy, you are so strong
You don't always have
to be tough, and hold it in,
be the strong silent type
It's okay. Let go.
Yes, being a man is hard
but you can let go.
Boy, please know your virtue.
You bring food to our famine.
The hunger, the thirst.
Who wouldn't want you?
Whose wicked appetite
couldn't you answer?
If you're wondering,
well, boy, the answer is yes.
She still loves you.
There were signs, signals
but you just couldn't read them.
She still loves you.
Why must you always
complicate love? Just take it.
Just take it and smile.
Boy, are you aware
of how destructive you are?
We could die for you.
Should we blame her?
Blame Aphrodite for this,
this pain and longing?
Boy, you're beautiful.
Limbs and muscle and talent;
we will never understand.
You are not flesh, blood.
You are made of energy,
and you can bring light.
You can give so much.
A feeling, a beginning,
a home, an escape.
You give nirvana,
with a love so tremulous
and complicated.
Boy, you're everything.
The might-have-beens, the maybes,
and the what-could-bes.
You are our focus,
our soothing sense of being,
simple, instinctual.
Boy, you are so much.
Millions of poems have been
written just for you.
We want to know you
collect little pieces of you
and memorize you.
Jun 12, 2013
Jun 12, 2013 at 6:07 PM UTC
Right, left, back – what?
Flames flicker to the rhythm of
Your feet
And waver
At the ripple of my laughter.
Your palm pressed to mine:
Fire soldered to water.
I twirl and
Your eyes
Extinguish mine.
-bes-
Jun 24, 2015
Jun 24, 2015 at 1:17 PM UTC
I am humbled by where I need to go
So I can go where I need to be
I hear someone following me
May it be god or a spiritual being
I am incapable of looking back
So I hope the universe cuts me off and takes the
lead
If not it's just me and the baggage full of could of bes
Holding me down as I drag it across the ground
At least my wine makes me drown
Only to make my eyes wide
To see it always was the devil next to me
Oct 22, 2016
Oct 22, 2016 at 11:53 PM UTC
Brother: You're like that guy standing at the counter of an ice cream shop yelling at everyone who buys vanilla that they should have bought chocolate instead.
Me: Ha, but no! Vanilla is my favorite flavor. I don't even care that vanilla is associated with "conventional," it's just my favorite. Have you ever seen Thank You For Smoking? There's this part where the guy argues with his son about ice cream; about which flavor is bes . . .
Brother: Okay, chocolate then. So you're that guy at the counter telling everyone who buys chocolate that they should've bought vanilla instead.
Me: Nah bro. You got me all wrong. I'm the guy encouraging everyone to try every flavor. To go with what suits their tastes. I want them to follow their gut, then fill a cone up with the flavor they identify with the most.
Brother: So you're that annoying guy standing behind them while they fill their cup? Telling them, "Hey, try this one! Don't forget to try this one. This one is good too!" Meanwhile they just want you to **** off.
Me: Not even. I'm not even at the shop. I'm at the house of the person trying to come up with a new flavor. I'm telling him/her, "Yea, that's a great idea! Add that and let's see how it comes out. You've got a good thing going here."
Brother: Whatever man. Experiment all you want. People like chocolate for a reason - that's all I'm saying.
Me: Well then, I'm saying that chocolate isn't enough for me. I want something beyond chocolate. I want something beyond anything that's ever been invented before. I want my taste buds to be completely flabbergasted by an explosive new flavor. I want to be on the cusp of the next great thing. I don't even care if people don't realize how great it is. I want to be a part of it, that's all.
Brother: Yea dude. Do you know how rare that is? Good luck with that.
Me: Yea man. You've no idea how rare it is. That's what makes it so incredible when you find it though! It's what I live for.
Brother: Well that's . . . that's inconsistent. It's all full of gaps.
Me: Don't you understand? That's what makes it so special when it happens - because of how rare it is!
Brother: Well, good luck with your Rocky Road. I hope you don't starve along the way. Chocolate is great; that's all I'm saying. Lots of people love chocolate.
Me: Well I don't. Let them have their chocolate. I'll keep looking for the next new thing, and when that doesn't happen, there's always vanilla.
Brother: Just stick with vanilla then, if you like vanilla alright. Vanilla is where it's at. That's your thing.
Me: It's not though. Vanilla doesn't quite satisfy. I don't wake up in the middle of the night craving vanilla. Vanilla is not the ice cream I dream of.
Brother: Ha, whatever man! You're ****** then.
Me: Yea, probably. Do you wanna go get some ice cream though?
Brother: Totally.
Jun 7, 2015
Jun 7, 2015 at 9:58 PM UTC
Saddened by my past
Can't make amends
Trying to advance
Every step we take just
Slipping through the cracks
Let's move forward
But we take three steps back
Everyone's been broken
But I can't seem to fix the past
Contemplating the future
When my heart's still in a cast
Overgrown images of could bes
And what we've had
Let's make a new picture
Not perfect yet
But it's a work of art
I'll make it the perfect representation
Of the space you have in my heart
Dec 3, 2015
Dec 3, 2015 at 1:27 AM UTC
There is in sadness a sense of Fall, of spacious leprosy where crippled thought like the outmoded nymph dies behind each tree, and childlike peeks out to let at least childhood disbelieve in its unhappy end.
There is in sadness, a branch that holds the once-upons, the happily-evers, and the destined-to-bes, a sweet find for all in grief. Each stem lends momentum to their pluckings.
There is in sadness, a young man who cherishes dead leaves. He lately held waxen happiness and knew this as his permanence.
Feb 14, 2022
Feb 14, 2022 at 7:20 PM UTC
The world is full of
wanna-bes and
used-to-bes and
almost-wases.
And the world is crawling with
naysayers and
false speakers and
people who never speak at all.
The world will never run out of
cookie cutters and
fakes and
exact replicas.
But every once in a while,
if you're lucky, really truly lucky
you meet a dream catcher or
a dream weaver or
a dream creator.
And every once in a blue moon,
should all the conditions be right,
you meet someone who is not afraid.
Someone who will hang their feet
over the very edge of this dismal world
look down into the dark expanse
take your hand
close their eyes
and jump.
And that person, my dear,
is you.
May 15, 2013
May 15, 2013 at 10:33 PM UTC
Trust is a tricky creature.
It slithers its way
into our hearts, our souls.
It coils itself into the darkest chamber
inside us and calls it home.
It stretches and makes itself
comfortable until it
winds itself around our lungs,
constricting all breath,
all reason,
all sense.
And then it pierces
our most vital *****
silencing its drumming and
injecting a poison that
swims through our veins,
paralyzing us
from the heart down.
-bes-
Jun 22, 2015
Jun 22, 2015 at 5:52 PM UTC
A symphony of fantasies in my mind construct my could-bes.
Nov 12, 2015
Nov 12, 2015 at 1:27 PM UTC
Do you feel it
Its the feeling
That you get
When there's nothing left
No distractions
No messages to check
No cigarettes
Real self is glaring back
Hi hey its me
Do you like what you see?
If not
change direction
Find what you need
The path can get rocky and dark
But every breath
Can be a fresh start
To begin again
Ego deleting
Humans - misleading,
Is there a way out of
Escaping
Waiting
Playing
I'm Breaking
The soul is aching
Knowing i cant keep replacing
Generations running from
the University of Feeling.
But, Dna remembers
The embers
from those cold Novembers
Flown away -
ash to dust
What's done is done
do everything with love,
And don't forget
the ones up above
As we are one.
Blessed be the
Music makers
The creators
The soul achers
Shedding their layers,
Bleed in
Bleed out
Returning the energy to origin
Breathe it in
Breathe it out
The Stagnant air
can get left there,
On the page that i wrote,
Because of the way that you spoke.
Its not the first bad note,
Here comes another ****
the ones that can let go of their pain
The ones that can cry out their rain
Transmuting,
Not always soothing
It stings
its saddening
Its beautifully shedding
From All that's been embedding
Ancestral healing
Will set you free
from the pain
Of your lineages chain.
I'm tired of walking in the rain.
Cycles will not repeat, again.
The wise one
Puts the stop here.
"If not you,
Then who?
If not now,
then When"
Waiting isnt wise,
Youll get left behind
A step essential to take,
To not have inherited infliction
stored in the skin
Remembered through the dna
Sometimes we just can't consciously trace.
But the unconscious
Stores all of our ancestors names
They live through us
We feel their pain
So it must
Take a chosen one
To finally pave
a new way.
Erase
The heartbreak
The envy
and the i wish it could bes.
Break the cycle
of holding
You must heal
all that's been shoved down
And replaced with a drug you found.
Choose you.
Choose now.
Write it
Yell it
Paint it
Feel it
And let it go.
Step into the clear air
You did it
You repaired
Breathe in the fresh air
Remember how you got here
---------- -- ---- -- ---- -- --- -- --
Jul 29, 2024
Jul 29, 2024 at 7:40 AM UTC
The grass may be greener on the other side
but I’m still on the white picket fence
that we built ourselves with ply,
a wall to the world useless for our defense.
Deciding between you
and them,
between our crumbling foundation
and a long road ahead,
between resentment and
regret,
this is where I sit,
on the fence.
-bes-
Jun 21, 2015
Jun 21, 2015 at 6:57 PM UTC
It's a rather sombre sight
To see the masses of doubt
Of would-bes and could-haves
It's quite a depressing thought
That we were made for each other
But not meant to be together
We live in a lonely world
Construed by imaginary rules
And caged by invisible rails
It's a feeling like no other
Because, while time just flew
I would have loved to love you
Jan 22, 2015
Jan 22, 2015 at 1:19 AM UTC
Wanna- bes are wanna-bes never be that.
Cause there the ones that go to sleep but wake up different.
Patience is patient so it waits, forgiveness is light while in the dark unforgiveness holds weight.
Who you are is Great that makes Greatness,
Not knowing that is like a misconception.
Feb 18, 2014
Feb 18, 2014 at 4:12 PM UTC
* Phae, light
phoe·nix
/ˈfēniks/
Nix, night
**...burning itself on a funeral pyre and rising from the ashes with renewed youth to live through another cycle.
-a person or thing regarded as uniquely remarkable in some respect.**
Joseph Campbell
The Sun on it's daily journey rises with shining rays upon it's sides at the horizon; the wings. The Sun is symbolically an Eagle who rises at dawn and soars the day until time for rest. The Hero's journey is based on these movements. ⁽ᑫᵘᵃᵐ ˢᵘᵘˢ ˢᵉⁿˢᶦᵗ⁾
PHOENIX
Night and Day combined in a cycle denoting the Sun's journey. ⁻ᴵᵇᶦᵈ
I am born again
so I must journey,
Paused in a trepidation
noon to my respite,
Moon she follows me
spirit sends my sojourn,
I burn on horizon
my form to ashes,
Tested by the darkness
lair of that beast.
Eclipsing the New Moon
broken her to pieces.
Followed by the dark
By my vanquished foe!
I arise anew, again
Dawn, day, dusk, night.
Naivete
The Fall
Ashes
Katabasis
Tribulation
Rebirth
Enlightenment/Ascension
King
8
OGDOAD
Og(cK): aga/okto/octo
Eight
⁻ˢᵘᵐᵉʳᶦᵃⁿ/ᴳʳᵉᵉᵏ/ᴸᵃᵗᶦⁿ
Do(u)/ At: place of serpents
Place, temple/serpent, snake
⁻ˢᵘᵐᵉʳᶦᵃⁿ/ᴱᵍʸᵖᵗᶦᵃⁿ
The place of Serpents
Council of Eight Serpentine Gods
Duat
Heaven(s)
The eight unknown actions
-deities of elemental materials
Vasus
⁻ᴴᶦⁿᵈᵘ
Sun
Sky
Moon
Stars
Night
Weather
Water
Nature
A
PILLAR
DJED
pillar/spine
...connected to the serpent upon the rise.
THE
DRAGON'S
MOUTH
SPEWS
FORTH
FIRE
6
The fire of the Sun-
THE
DRAGON
IS WISE/ALL-KNOWING
WITH A KEEN GAZE
For the Moon is thought-
⁻ᴴᵉʳᵐᵉˢ/⁻ᴳʳᵉᵉᵏ
⁻ᴴᵒʳ⁻ᵐᵃˢ/⁻ᴱᵍʸᵖᵗᶦᵃⁿ
And Charon means keen gazer-
⁻ᴳʳᵉᵉᵏ
INSIDE
HIS WINGS
ARE EYES, MANY EYES
-stars-
Gigi
Ig-gigi
Eyes, many eyes-
⁻ˢᵘᵐᵉʳᶦᵃⁿ
BES
A beast made up of animal parts-
...parts of the Zodiac/the animal circus
⁻ᴱᵍʸᵖᵗᶦᵃⁿ
ZU-Bird
Zu
⁻ˢᵘᵐᵉʳᶦᵃⁿ
SOKAR
So
⁻ᴱᵍʸᵖᵗᶦᵃⁿ
*Zu-So:/ˈzō/sō/;
Action/the sigil of Saturn, a repeated action:
-actions that repeat
8
⁻ˢᵘᵐᵉʳᶦᵃⁿ
<A FOURTH ALBUM WITH FOUR TITLES>
8
*KRONOS
⁻ᴳʳᵉᵉᵏ
SET
⁻ᴱᵍʸᵖᵗᶦᵃⁿ
Saturn
⁻ˢᵘᵐᵉʳᶦᵃⁿ
8
...and his number is Eight...
...eight turned sideways is,
t i m e
OG
r e p e a t s
I N F I N I T Y
Feb 8, 2018
Feb 8, 2018 at 6:34 PM UTC
My head
Understands
The complexity
Of your caress
And the
Power beneath
Your skin
To evoke
A deeper level
Of self destruction.
My head,
However,
Does not
Understand
The complexity
Of my carelessness
And the
Power within
My heart
To shield itself
From self destruction.
-bes-
Jun 25, 2015
Jun 25, 2015 at 11:12 AM UTC
it’s a pen of bulls in your stomach
the wonder, the not-knowing, the what-ifs, whens coulds and might-bes
the numbers on an oxygen tank dwindling down
too many thoughts becoming their own creatures,
tearing down cities that we carry inside
it’s leaves shivering from an island wind,
the people running away from shore
that moment when you slip on ice and you don’t know if you’ll catch yourself
it’s dying, not knowing where you’ll go
and space, not comprehending how vast
counting all the possibilities in the universe and only thinking
about the most horrific ones
some of us always live in worst case scenarios
and i,
have not yet mastered the art of surviving them.
Feb 1, 2014
Feb 1, 2014 at 8:25 PM UTC
Not the emotion, but the numbness
that can **** a sum
of vacancy of feeling and void
in the chest, devoid
of care while bleeding out
under anesthesia spread to every nerve throughout.
A dry eye
can be the worst goodbye,
because a wound
never did heal with apathy, doomed
to infect every apology and cry
that attempts to resolve each and every lie.
But the rhythm of my fingers
stringing thought by thought,
like a surgical thread closing my heart,
is my only sense that lingers.
-bes-
Jun 23, 2015
Jun 23, 2015 at 2:53 PM UTC
Gin in the mo'nin
I just woke up
First thang I did
was puke my guts
This headache o' mines
feels mighty bad
bes' hangover
I ever had had
sun's hurtin' my eyes
neighbors are yellin'
last weeks trash
sho' is smellin'
To sober up
drinkin' heps my
thinkin'
Jimmy Beam on the side
Man, I gots to stop drinkin'
Good ole Jack Daniels
& his buddies too
Seem to have it out fo' you
sho' nuff they do
When you got those Hangover Blues
Nov 10, 2014
Nov 10, 2014 at 11:38 PM UTC
Flapping my wings through
the wispy white fog -
snipping across like a cat’s yarn,
untangling this chaos.
A nebulous sky gleams crimson beneath the setting sun,
my ivory wings stained
as I dive down beneath the canopy
in pursuit of my escape.
-bes-
Jun 21, 2015
Jun 21, 2015 at 7:12 PM UTC
By: Cedric McClester
It’s never easy
Losing a friend
I shouldn’t be crying
But I can’t pretend
That it doesn’t hurt
Especially when
I’ll never be able
To see you again
It’s never easy
Having to grieve
I never thought about
You having to leave
All of us do
Trust and believe
And although it is true
It’s hard to conceive
But this ain’t a tale
Of woe is me
Not as long as I have
Such fond memories
Which can take me back
To our used to bes
And I’ll smile at the thought
Of those sweet memories
It’s never easy
But be that as it may
A sad fact of life
Is we all go away
And so we must treasure
Each given day
As if it’s our last
Because who's to say
Cedric McClester, Copyright © 2018. All rights reserved.
Jul 26, 2018
Jul 26, 2018 at 1:42 PM UTC