Love na love talaga kita eh, and it would mean so much lalo na
pag binanggit ko pa na mahal na mahal na talaga kita. NAPAKA STRANGE.

He is shy, kind, innocent, pleasant, different, even for a guy
He is fragile, sweet and mostly meaningful, mostly to my life.

Kahit alam kong wala kami dun sa stage na,
"in relationship" i'd bother myself to care.
Kasi he is meaningful, mahalaga siya saakin, yung tipong kaya ko syang alagaan at aalagaan no matter what. I would make time for him just to see him, smile, laugh or even giggle a bit, because his  happiness makes the most out of him and it makes me happy too.
Kung kakayanin kong kwentuhan siya gabi gabi hanggang sa makatulog sya gagawin ko (kaso ang tagal nya mag reply kaya ako yung nakakatulog :3)

Sabi nila sakin,

"grabe na yan ahh. baka nakakalimutan **** babae ka pa din ah?"

Sabi ko,

"oo alam ko, at alam ko yung ginagawa ko."

"yun naman pala eh, ano yan?"

"ang alin?"

"yang tipong support support na yan?"

"wala namang masama dyan, atleast napapakita ko padin sakanya na mahalaga siya sakin, kahit di nya nararamdaman"

"ayooooooon, manhid"

di na ko sumagot, sumasama din kasi yung loob ko pag naririnig kong sinasabihan sya na manhid eh, kahit totoo, parang sakin bumabalik kasi ako yung nagbibigay ng effort pero parang di nya na fe-feel. Pero mahal ko padin siya, walang makakapag bago dun.

Yung mga simpleng tweet nya na, napapalundag ako sa kilig at tuwa.
Yung mga kindat nya na (kahit hindi siya marunong) nakakamatay.
Yung mga biglang ngiti nya na, nasusulyapan ko bawat tingin.
Yung mga mata nyang mapupungay na lagi akong dinadala sa langit (hindi naman siya chinito, feeling lang hahaha)
Yung kilay at buhok nyang lagi kong hinahaplos (naka keratin daw eh hahaha)
Yung boses nyang sintonado, pero pag kinakanta nya yung "When You Say Nothing At All" pati ung "Life of the Party" lumalabas yung pagka inner Michael Buble nya.
Yung moves nya na mala 90's, na pag sumasayaw sya sa harap ko napapatakip nalang ako kasi, mas lalo akong nafafall.
Yung kuko nyang laging bagong gupit.
Yung amoy nya na parang amoy baby, tapos minsan panlalaking panlalaki (seryoso nakaka ******)

At maraming maraming marami pa.
He's my kind of perfect.
Sabi nga nila, pag mahal mo ang isang tao, lahat ng imperfections nya sa sarili o sa buhay pa yan, his flaws, handang handa kang tanggapin yun ng buong buo, walang labis, walang kulang.

Love is accepting, who they are and what they are.
Diba sabi mo di ka marunong mag luto? Ako din eh, siguro sa tamang panahon, we would invent kinds of dinner or even breakfast and lunch, that your dad and my mom used to do. Kahit di tayo sigurado sa anong lasa nung pagkain na magagawa natin, as long as we got it each other, we can make it better.

Di ko alam kung bat umabot ako dito eh, alam mo bang onting onti nalang, ako na talaga manliligaw sayo? Ang bagal mo kasi eh. Hahaha joke lang, syempre hanggang panaginip ko nalang yon.

Nung coronation night, pinuntahan kita sa dressing room nyo,
I was really stunned, as you walked out that room. Destiny nga ba talaga? I was REALLY shocked, kasi merong SLOW MOTION, i have never felt that feeling before, NEVER!
Tapos yung sinabi ni Sir Yu, may kwinento sya sakin tungkol sa napagusapan nyo tungkol sakin. Long story-short, naglululundag ako sa kilig at tuwa na, who would have thought na masasabi mo pala yung mga ganung salita na yun.
Tapos si B1, haha natatawa nga ko kasi kinikilig daw siya satin, aabangan nya daw yung next chapter natin, ang tanong meron nga ba?

Jon Ray Ico Ramos! Oo ikaw! Malakas loob ko banggitin pangalan mo dito, kasi wala kang account dito at di mo alam na may ganito ako, ibig sabihin di mo to mababasa and as far as i know walang taga SCCV ang may ganito, well. HAHAHAHA!
Mahaaaaal na mahaaaal kita. Minsan sa sobrang saya ko pag kausap kita napapatype nalang ako ng "I love you" muntik na nga akong makasend nyan sayo eh, buti nalang talaga hindi hahaha :3 wala na kong masabi kasi inaantok na talaga ako as innn.

Basta sana pagka gising mo, mabasa mo to (pero syempre di mo to mababasa) para malaman mo na, ikaw ang huli kong iniisip bago ako matulog.

Good mor-night!
---------------
Good morning, Jon Ray!


P.S: sinadya ko talagang ipost to ng 5:55 AM kasi favorite number mo ang 5 so, ayan :)

Weave we've woven a web...
What I said, what I said, what I said
we been sayin all a long

Oh the futurists mythed the inter-resting-time

This man fears population explosions, he is speaking in 1991,

I'd built my great 100 by 75 miles ten stories building resting place where ten billion story tellers could hide and watch whaat's
comin' down.
By then, decades before, in the desert twixt Vegas and L.A.
I asked this guy who actually wanted in my pants,
I sat on the window silly V double you, did he know,
I asked, no, I told him, after I had been starring at the stars for some time, this time that'ime, when I think about it,
I told that guy the whole world was waiting,
suffering,
await'n' the frontal cortex maturation of the sons 'oGod.
I said "and I'm one." Don't touch.

My private calfornia became my private arizona and neo and river chose idaho, ( no, that idaho, that was a movie-story)... not part of the rite

that was the legend of the clan, when we had electrix. That ride set an I'll-go-rythm of if/then/else switches to HIGH honor if-ic.
If.
If you can keep your head... the rest, true rest, is history.

we know a voice who swore he was there when "Been there, done that"
became an
eternal cliche of the gods.

We are participating in the future. We are thinking.

---
that hapt the same night as the discovery of the perfect-ish
four sided pyramid of charcoal brickets burning one
at at at a time
touch another to the glowing pile on the sand...
(audio)
=====
why are ficts so far from the facts in the matters that matter

re-lig-em leg-it-am-it-all, damitalkenslowdown

so re-lig me to my ide-idea, beware

We seen this coming do you? This is thirty years ago we know, this we know this we

we are in sanity, as insanity is the only way to packitin
sane sorts of things that all must touch in order
to re
main sane. You know, you know. That makes lying im-possible or null-possil-be
per se.
Word.Righton. Trooph truckah! ToA allaway Found

a calico cat of the old school sawdust variety.
if you,
if you see her, please de-if her re-onance, it's chipped.
You can keep her, if I can say such things here and not be thought an ownery old cuss,
clammering through empty lobster tails to see what the attraction may have been,

Back. Then we are not
off track or trail, etched acid canyon of silicon paved with godelsufferingold, by golly, I'd be live if I could see my way clear to walk such streets at
the speed of light
no, gravity and no, too slow,
thought.
ought... that's a thought
not... that's a thought
ought... that's a differ'nt thought, takes time...
that's a thought you could spend thinking it. You get nowhere.
now and then we find clusters of ideas in time, as if they buble from some spring in the headwaters of the mind we matter in

Der Lesenmann, bitte, kanst do lesen? O h, dear reader, take my hand, my phantom hand, the one I never lost, tell me

did you enjoy our journey, so far...

Weave a ways, weave a ways to go. If this and that cross
again
we may hear what that preach meant to say, thaat day
o'visitation, way back when.

olden time. grand mals time to meditate sign-ate de-sign-ate,

Dada do we know when we know, when we are two and the past is, too.
Papa do you know the big bang is the answer everyone found, in the olden days when you were ten?
Oh I read about that backthen, I was twelve. Weekly Reader kept my gang informed, or Me, and I told all my friends, my listeners who did not read but needed to pass the current events test.
Now, we all a passin' those ****** one time at atime

Upon my word, begin...

5: Nice Jewish Boy, Poet ******,
And ****** Of My Own Life

Dedicated to the people
Who keep me company here,
Some in the mid of night,
You know who you are...
and the POlice trooper who caught me
doing 85 in the HOV lane.  Cost me 200+ and 3 points on my entry ticket to heaven
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Listening to Daughtry^
Like ya oughta,
Singing very loudly along
to, and as it so happens, when
I'm agoing
Home.

Long neck Corona
Cooling my sweaty brow,
Top down,
You betcha my neck is
Red, and the officer who just pulled me over
Ain't looking none too pleased,
In fact, he's alooking a little red too!

Officer I said,
Saw that sign,
30 MPH Minimum

Swear I was doing
At least that
Above the 55 speed limit.

He said, it's ok dude,
I like your music taste,
Heard you singing
Daughtry and Green Day,
James Blunt and Nickelback
In the HOV lane,
Maybe even some Buble
I may have heard, as well,
But don't Miranda incriminate yourself!

I like your taste in beer,
I like that you don't use no sun lotion,
If it's ok with you,
I'll just stand here and listen,
And maybe, join you later when
I'm off duty, at the station.

Officer, a nice Jewish boy I am,
Officer, a good ole country boy from the city,
Wear Harlon River's hat when he ain't,
Went out fishing with RRR (r) on his boat,
Woodpecker chaser,
got me a .45 neath my pillow,
And you should see me gut a

Poem*

Slice its belly open,
Sometimes straight, sometimes Askew,
Feed the gulls them
****** insides on the dock, by-moonlight,
Can ya cut me some slack?

Mmm, I see here in your license,
You are a disabled guy,
A **** poet ******,
Who often does his best work
Legally all alone in the HOV lane,
So I'm gonna let you off this time
Just with a warning!

If you drive and compose,
Ya gotta observe the signs posted:

No more than five per day,
Poems can you post

If singing while driving,
Top gotta be down

No writing about drinking,
there are underage children
Reading your wrotes

Finally,
No more sad poems,
The world is way over its quota,
No mention of scars or pain,
Tears, loss, broken or going insane,*
No heart sickness on sunny weekend days,
Got it?

It's a big problem in these parts,
If you see one, report it to the
Poetry Authorities!

Yes sir Officer,
If you give me your name,
I'll slip it in some little
Unobtrusive limerick,
By way of a thank you note,
Cause after all
A nice Jewish boy
I.am.

He said that won't be necessary,
Voyeuring yourself ain't illegal,
Just bad manners.
But if I catch ya one more time,
Using those aforementioned bad words,
And doing 85, in the left lane,
I know where ya live, and
I'll see ya 'when September ends.'

Eat the fourth cookie.
Bring back that fuzzy green sweater with lint ***** so stubborn
that even the strongest lint roller couldn’t break the bond they have with the sweater.
I know you pick your nose in public.
You stutter every time I ask who lives on Mamaroneck Street.
You have burping contests with yourself while you’re on the toilet.
I don’t care how you clip your toenails on today’s newspaper.
I still read it after you’re done.
I love that you paint each nail in a different neon color,
eat chocolate chips and green tea for breakfast,
and salt your apples.
You cry every time you watch Titanic.
I agree Rose should’ve moved to the side and shared the plank with Jack.
You rap to Baby Got Back fifty nine times in a row.
I wish we danced to it more often.
I wish you would tell me what you write in your red book.
I know you pretend you’re Beyonce in concert while working out,
and think Michael Buble wrote haven’t met you yet for you.
I love that you keep the ticket stubs from every single movie we see in the tea jar under your bed.
You smell of cologne every time you walk into the house.
You don’t know how to whisper. You never have.
You tell me you’ll be back by noon but don’t come back till 7 p.m.
You use your knitting needles as chopsticks when we order sushi,
And don’t stamp any of the letters you send your mom.
Even though you have seven wallets, you keep all your money loose in your bag
and throw away all the pennies in the trash.
You pretend your belly-fat is a puppet that can talk and sing,
And you flirt with the waiter for extra hot sauce.
You hate it when I use your cell-phone

And every night you kiss him goodnight at the train station.

captured in the psych ward — hooligan taken away from christmas concert for being poor



today ron was awoken at 10.99 pm on the night of the sidney meyer music bowls christmas carols

by the HDU, when young harry butler was admitted for sitting writing stories and sending them via

facebook via his phone and at the 2nd carol, the security guards picked him up and threw him out and when

he fought back, the guards rang the HDU, to come and get him, and as he was being transported

all sorts of delusions were coming into his head, like he is jesus christ and he is currently suffering

for everyone’s sins, and then he said, he was eberneezer scrooge, and the guards were aware of that

and had to throw him out of the carols and then was given an order to never attend it because he is

a danger to everyone and himself, and ron asked him what happened and he said, the guards wanted

to get rid of me because i am scrooge, and when i explained that to them, the guards told me to shut up

and leave, and when i didn’t leave, they said ok, come on scrooge, it’s time you had a little journey to the

psychiatric unit, to be placed on a better medication and ron said, do you really believe you are scrooge

and harry said i must be, because all i was doing was sitting there writing stories and singing carols

but the guards just picked on me, because i have an illness and ron said, ok, but are you sure you didn’t

do anything to provoke it, and harry yelled ‘NO’, i look like a hobo so the fucken guards decide to pick on me

and then harry asked ron did you watch the carols and ron said, yeah till the phone rang about you, you

see i can’t understand why the guards pick on you, i can assure you, i look bad tonight, but are you sure

you didn’t **** out on the lawn or in a private tin, so you don’t wait in line and harry said ‘NO’ and then said

that is the most discussing thing i have ever heard of, i could actually drink that if i got really thirsty but ron

said he has to explore the options and also find out what medication is best for you and harry said, NO YA ****

I DON’T WANT YA BLASTED MEDICATION, I WANT TO GO BACK TO THE CAROLS, ron told harry that wasn’t an option

and tried to hear the rest of harry’s story because at present his story is keeping him in the HDU for a long time

because we need to make sure the families are safe though, then harry asked if he could watch the carols on TV

and ron went in there with him and then harry started talking about moses being at the carols attempt;ting to crowd surf and

harry thought that was funny and then he saw leonardo di vinci paint a picture of him being taken to the nuthouse and

now he is there, the finale came and harry was getting cranky with ron saying you don’t fucken care for the sick people

such as myself and ron told harry to settle down saying i care, i care i care, and harry said all you want top do is pump me full of drugs

and i am a poor man with his family taken away from him by those greedy **** from the mental health tribunal

and then ron, they had the hide to tell me, i must go through a lot of fucken treatment to get them back

and ron said, have you been offered medication to, (harry yells stop) ron said, let me talk to make you feel better and

harry said, *******, i have been pumped full of drugs day in and day out, and ron asked, can i ask what drugs and

harry said seroquel and chlosiphine and i get by smoking mariguana, and ron said, you do know that mariguana can cause

brain damage and harry yelled, ‘SHUT UP YA FLAMIN’ DRONGO’, mariguana was the only drug which helped me and

when i get out, i will go back to smoking it and forgetting about the fucken side effect medication, you ***** subscribe for us

and ron said, we have to give you medication while you are here, to get you better and make you a free man, and harry said

I DON’T WANT TO BE PLACED ON SOME WONDER DRUG TO GET ME OUT OF HERE, THE WORLD FUCKEN HATES ME

SO PLEASE ALLOW ME TO FUCKEN GET OUT OF HERE, and ron said, no, and gave him a shot of ****** to calm him down

and every time harry saw ron, he yelled GET ****** ****, but the ****** was slowly making his voice calmer and calmer

and he went to sleep, and ron went home to get ready for the christmas party, but he said to the nurses at the HDU if he gets up

screaming, give him more ****** and if that doesn’t calm him, call me and i will be right over, but the ****** will keep him quiet

till he agrees to take medication, he is high on dope and he thinks it’s helping him so ****** is the best option for him, it gets rid of

any signs of mariguana, and personally i think taking him away from the carols was the best thing, because just imagine if the kids

saw an angry man like him at the family event and ron left and started preparing for his christmas party and at 1.00pm on christmas

harry held a fork at the nurses throat and said LET ME FUCKEN SEE THE DOCTOR YA **** and ron came back and gave him

600 mills of seroquel and told him to relax but harry said, I WILL FUCKEN **** YOU TOO, IF YOU DON’T LET ME GO OUT, I HAVE

A CHRISTMAS PARTY WITH MY FUCKEN PARENTS and ron said, ok i will give you more ****** because we can’t let you go

because, you are danger to yourself and to other people and then ron said merry chrkistmas and went back home to clean up the

party dishes and watched the micheal buble christmas show on television, and then went to bed and woke up at 8 am for work and

went to his cafe for breakfast where he told them about harry who was brought to the HDU from the carols on christmas eve and after

finishing his coffee he went to work and harry was restrained because he became violent and harry gave him some more seroquel and

then asked him what was bothering him apart from the visible but harry yelled GET ****** and ron went back to the nurses saying keep

an eye on harry ok, we can’t have him go free because he could cause harm to the other patients and to us, and ron went home, ordered a pizza

and watched a video on how to control dope users.

I can’t apologize enough for your situation
Hillary Swank is definitely not one of my favorite actors.
Michael Buble hasn’t met you yet apparently either
River can’t wait for you to get home and neither can I
Does it get tiring reading poems about you?
Can’t help it, but I’ll try my hardest dear
If you were a Jedi, your lightsaber would be green
One O’ Clock isn’t my best time

What exactly would you get
if writers changed the things they wrote
If painters changed their style
And singers butchered every note

Romance books by Stephen King
Horrors told by Suess
Comedic plays by E.A. Poe
And **** by Mother Goose

Dali paints like Monet
Monet paints like Degas
Van gogh would hang his brushes up
And go and detail cars

Michael Buble singing screamo
Operatic stuff by ****
Yoko Ono would seem right in tune
It's enough to make one sick

I hope it never happens
It would change things quite a lot
But you know, I think that **** by
Mother Goose could be quite hot!

How we’d dance in our little room
to the tunes of Sinatra and Buble
Your feet on top of mine
As we swayed side to side

I loved our special dance
We knew not of this art
but we danced with freedom
and moved by chance


Andrus

S3

Sleepless, Shuffling In Stockholm

Somewhere in my body,
A bifurcated clock ticks,
Two clock faces,
White on black,
Vice versa.

Mixed media messages,
Crazy train station internal,
Brain activity fevered,
Arrive/depart according to
Somebody else's schedule,
Somebody else occupying,
Every street of my body

Lying asleep,
Typing these words,
It is the middle of the night,
Bright daylight suffuses the room
What part of my metaphysical schema,
Ain't jet lagged legally,
And poetically entitled to be
Stockholm Syndrome Confused?

Times have really changed,
Oh my, when you propose,
Let's go to Stockholm,
Anything goes!

So my schedule reordered
In the land of either all
Light or Dark, twenty hours four,
I turn to my boon companion,
Who soothes at any hour,
My music, my Nano,
And I find myself, musically,

Shuffling in Stockholm.

Meatloaf and Piazzolla,
Muddy Waters and Purple Rain,
Marvin Gaye and Pink Martini,
Beethoven, Straight No Chaser,
Beatles, Stones, Bennett vs. Buble,
The lack of sleep a permanent fixture,
Courtesy of this Bach-us admixture,

So should you see a gappy, khaki, clad tourist,
Meandering o'er the islands of this charming city,
In Ingmar Bergman fashion,
Black and white erratic,
Alternating, swaying and shuffling,
No tongue clucking,
Nah, he's not drunken,
Just dancing while sight seeing,
In a sleep deprived manner,
Someday a movie to be,
Sleepless, Shuffling In Stockholm
A/K/A
S3

June 30 ~ July 2, 2012
Stockholm, Sweden

No Matter The Floor You Pass Out On

I awake as any other madman slash poet.
Apon the floor  naked  pizza box for pillow a members only jacket for a blanket.
yes the libary sure has changed over the years.

less and less people were reading buggets were cut meaning
libraryies were under staffed and rarely did anyone dare venture into
the stacks  and thank good for that. Cause being i preffered free sleeping
it was probaly for the best.

but no matter the the floor you pass out on most all fine
american men wake up with are god given birth rite.
That which after a trip to the restroom like
that early morning madness that was christmas  pressent openning
was over way to fast and was kinda disapointing.

Floors werent the best beds in the world in fact they
****** altogather but drinking and common sense dont even
belong in the same room togather.

Portsmouth Va  was a strange world indeed a place where upscale colided with skidrow.
Me I preffer the company of a outdoor sleeper to that of a
spoiled spoon fed yuppie ****.
the art school cranked out angst ridden buble people by the second.

They walked the street soaking in the pain of life.
there heads stuck so far up there ***** I always felt compeled to trip them as they walked by.
acting as though they were outsiders  yerning to be mainstream
they'd **** there mothers on a mtv reality show as dad cried in the background.

Just for a taste of stardom.
True talent who needs that?
but no matter the floor you pass out on one
thing was clear.

In a world were you could have a bus load
of kids and get paid for it.
fame wasnt such a rare thing anymore.

The floor I passed out on was cold and cruel but surrounded
voices from the past.
the floor these hollow  reallity show bottom  feeders
passed out on.  Had to besoft as there heads.

Otherwise there brains would splatter across the floor.
And some TV exect would have a brainstorm  to have a show
were washed up celebrities would have a contest.

To see who could bore us the most with there sob story  
Yes friends id rather have a pizza box for a pillow
than a reality show  pillbox for a brain.

and the truth effectsus all form no matter
which floor so you do choose to pass out on.

Large red pillows on a warm blanket in front of the fire.
Candles all around
-Michael Buble to set mood.

And you,
my 1950s movie star smiling coyly,
expectation hidden behind you brown satin kimino.

I dont mean to cause commotion as I am  pouring on you of my waves of emotions flooding your ear's gates like the ocean. Overflowin. But You cast a spell me with your Love potion. You became the only thing running thru my brain in slow motion.
I could see your face, your dimples, your smile, and even the hear tone in your voice with each and every word you had softly spoken.
I was a Good book that you left wide open.
You left me there with my soul exposed and  others to come by and touch my word with their ***** hands as they were groping.
You weren't the person I was hoping.
I was claiming you but you were naming me because I wasn't the one you have chosen. So I sat there in the dark, forced to pick up the shattered pieces of my heart you left broken. And my own self pitty was as a buble bath  in which my crush bones was soaking.
And there I sat with the  bottle from you love potion overdosin.
All it was was an Over do in sin From the beginning, because I knew my love for you was never gonna win. it was  her, her and her, oh yeah all the rest of em.  I guess I wasn't enough for you because  I wasn't one of "Them". So my question is why didnt you just leave me in they zone where I could of just stayed your friend. I thought you were different from the other men. Now I'm sitting here wishing I never would have pressed that little green button on my phone that said, "send". Because you I couldn't  seem to get you of my System, Man I was strugglin. My heart was not  meant to be stressed out like a tree  blowing in the wind.
However you forgot to realize that I am resilient, I don't break, I bend. So I must Say thank for the Inspiration. Cause now instead of running after you it will be my dreams I'll be chasin

Create a playlist of your favourite soothing numbers.Dim the lights of your room.Lie down on the bed.Close your eyes.Blank your mind.Forget about the day.Put your earphones on and start listening to the music.Slowly take it all in.As the music takes over your mind,body and soul...bit by bit,layer by layer,song by song...you will have completely surrendered yourself to this powerful hypnotic effect of the music.You will experience optimum relaxation.Let go of all the negativity residing within you.Now just travel through the timeline of your memory and try and visualize the face of that one person whose face you always wanna keep seeing...think of some of the best moments you've had so far with this person.By the time the process ends you will feel this incredible sense of calmness within you.You have never felt so relaxed.After this you will one of the best sleeps you have ever had.

Music has the power to calm your restless soul and heal your aching heart.Do this process every once in a while.

My personal recommendation of songs:-
1)Classical Ave Maria-Maria Callas & Mozart
2)If you go away-Shirley Bassey
3)At last-Etta James
4)Clocks-Coldplay
5)Fragile-Sting
6)Beautiful smile-Dj Sammy
7)Electrical Storm-U2
8)No ordinary love-Sade
9)Come undone-Duran Duran
10)Riders on the storm-The Doors
11)Any John Denver track
12)Any Don Mc Lean track
13)Any Michael Buble track

I don't talk I write
because I'm afraid to fight
not fighting as in 1 on 1
I think thats really fun
I mean fight the tears
fight the growing fears
fight who i don't want to be
fight the weaker and scared me
I write all down
to keep away the frown
i don't think I'll ever change
but i don't think its strange
i don't dare go near the hurtle my path
for fear of its crippling wrath
I'll just stay in my buble and hide
I think it's safe and cozy inside