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Steve Page Mar 2017
I miss my mother most
when I'm in her frenetic company.
Such an angry fragile woman
in the shadow of the mum
she used to be.
Lost and alone, wanting a way home,
one woman against the world
with no old friends
only fresh new foes.

She can identify every shifting lie
sitting scared with no escape
from a hundred shifty eyes.
Stalkers criticise every mistake
watching her practice looping moves
cornering her as if to prove
that we're all conspiring
each trying to rob her
when the screaming truth here
is that her fleeting thoughts
have already gone where
we can never walk
not even in our tears.
Dementia is a slow killer.
Negra Jul 2016
My mother tongue got cut off
I’ve been bleeding in my mouth ever since
But I learned to cope with the pain
Because no one with my mothers tongue has been able to
Show me how to grow it back.

Hair grows back easily though.
It keeps my head warm
So my thoughts can sit comfortably
While trying to process what the **** everyone’s saying,
Without burdening the translator who just wants to listen.

I try but can’t listen or speak
It turns into a silent loud noise
This language barrier pulls my hair
My thoughts release with no refuge
It’s cold out here I try and tell them
But no one can hear me.

So I try to improvise and improvise
I wana say I love you. I’ll try and show you how.
I can’t verbalize my humor
It makes me cry.
Now they wont get to know me as deeply
As I dig for them and they dig for me.

Then they ask me how could you not learn your language
As if I hate it
I ask them do you know my story
I did not choose this.

It’s not their fault
It’s not my fault
Idk what was conspiring against me or with me
To make this happen.

So as I try and learn to grow back my mothers tongue

I pray that this is a gift
And its curse like symptoms is only a mask

I pray this is a gift
And its curse like symptoms is only a mask

I pray this is a gift
And its curse like symptoms is only a mask
Amen
In Nero’s private stage,
Disaster was
His audience. Rome mimics fallen Troy in play.
What was reflected in Nero’s eyes
when he sang of the swirling patterns
of fire? When Rome was caught burning;
When conspiring led to its fall.

Fire engulfed Rome with fiery teeth.
The clouds hide or faint into black smoke.
The skies bleed heavily with rust
Its brassy color mixing with the
*** of burning seas, like oceans melting

Could you not feel the sun’s weight?
Now it is incomparable to
Molten seas and softened lead!

Blood spilt from sea-point, waves wallow the cries
Of the fallen. Like a bellowing sound marching
Against caverns of ears, Copper soldiers
Melt into clouds oozing with emotion,
Shattering their now empty metal hearts,
Hollow hearts that outlive the muteness.

It is awakened when
Spark and light is absent.

(Paolo Jerome D. Cristobal / June 26, 2009 - Alabang)
2nd Prize Winner - POETRY CATEGORY - Cesar S. Tiangco Literary Awards 2010
am i ee Aug 2015
the bane of my existence
here
now
is
all of the incessant
noise.  

the city encroaches
ever outward,
gobbling up
the suburbs
like the great big
Blob

contributing
layer
after
layer
of noise.  

a new metro line
opened last year
disheartened
the morning

realized
it was the trains
i heard
as my puppy
and i
walked so early.  

trash trucks,
back up beeping noises,
leaf blowers,
mowers
and trimmers ...
all
conspiring
to drive me
mad.

the birds and owls,
snakes and deer,
hawks and rabbits
toads
and trees
and flowers,
puppies
all other creatures
divine,
tempering
this man-made chaos
this man-made
****

keeping me hopeful
that
i
will
have some
respite
  

some respite
from this
hideous cacophony,
this man-made ****,
in the future,
not
too distant.

of course
there are
some benefits
from all
the city life

but i prefer
the silence
the solitude
of nature.


the Taoist recluses
who speak to me,
whose poems
paintings
writings
and silence
are balm
to my soul.  

some day soon,
i too
shall join
the recluses
far away
far far away
in the mountains.

but for now,
i am
only a modern day
taoist
recluse
stuck in suburbia,
doing my best,
living in this
noisy ****.
Julia Oct 2018
forever is a long time












to wait
for someone
and he waited








for me
for 9 years
until
9 tears
spilled
  d
      o
  w
      n
   his face
   a trace
   of              
         d       n       e
   a                           s
s                                 s

o       l       t       f
n       i       h      r
         n      a      o
t        e      t       m
h       s              
e               r       h
                 a       i
                 n       s


E      E
Y      S
    t
    o
    h
     i
     s
t          s
   o   e

nobody knows
how far this goes
how      o                     n
        o        o           o         g
     l                   o                  she strolls
without (whoa)s

each pebble places puzzles
pedaling peddlers play in puddles

triplet
        o
      twin
        e            tu
   ­     r              mb
        s            le

rumble mumble bumble
                        


                       GO AWAY
                             stay okay

my tires are all tiring
my spark plug is misfiring
my wires need rewiring
my modem is requiring
the answers i’m inquiring
why are we all conspiring
an interweb inspiring
an instant gram empire ring













my Angel waits on HI
                                   BI
If I replaced all the time I spent on social media with hello poetry engagement, I would probably be a lot happier.
Val Ajdari Nov 2016
Arrow upon arrow the poisoned heart endured,
Strife and doom its woeful dream ensured.
Vile phantoms of creed with deception en route
Intended to thwart, unveil their wicked fruit.
Then satan withered the spirit's purpose and flame,
And gathered an earthly militia; among those to blame.
A maze encrypted, the light yet unseen,
All prospects stolen, great efforts wiped clean.
Creative the mind twilight art it presented,
The Sphere's evil hosts were reflected and resented.
Lost was all hearing, faith and sight,
Misplaced sense of wonder and good sense in flight.
"I worship nothing!" our soul once preferred,
Such was the spirit in high degrees deterred.

       "Paragons of justice, will I ever get to see
The day my misfortunes cease to be?
They shadow, entrap and starve my soul
Of love and joy and all control!
So tired I am, and tired I shall stay
If purpose here is merely to convey
No purpose at all, except for one:
To enslave the soul, casting punishment for fun.
My simple wish, then, is simply to impart
An end to this misery and to my sanctioned heart."

       Our despairing soul put in motion so
An idea most frightening, its telling shall forego...
But immerse in their demise, allow for stricken grief,
Then foresee the King's hands and His graciousness in fleet.
He gathered around, with love He replaced
Satan's troubled minions conspiring in space,
And severed The Pit's shackles with incomparable might,
He then enlightened our soul, who could not see the light.
All calls to heal had reached The King's mystical vibrations,
Had released the soul and nullified its  limitations.
Profound divine knowledge our soul now espies;
Seeing The King's glory and the destroyer's lies.
Great wisdom and revelation now fill our faithful heart,
Yet, a tale best left for another form of art...
Kara Jean May 2016
The women conspiring
She meant no pain
Her life is shadowy
She grew in beauty
Naturally she put on a show
Well noticable
In depths where her gut meets her heart
high voltage force, igniting
She was privileged, leaving ****
She could've freed the flocks in captivity
She closed her eyelids
Casual steps in vein
A void, cutting her insides
A wonderment why her point of view remains
Pure apology exchanged
Sight darkened when her eyes are opened
Unexpected she prays
How do I change
All expectations she never needed
Opinion unraveling, she pleaded
"Where is forwards deliverance"
Kris Apr 2015
Tip one: everyone has problems, exploit that.
The main ones are money, love, death, and existential crisis;
it’s better to write about the former two because the other two…
well, they are the things that people are trying to forget
when they read about the trivial parts of their lives
in the cleverly-phrased lines of your horoscope.
So cater to their needs and help them escape for a moment
through the frivolous indulgence of your vague predictions.

Which leads to tip two: keep it vague.
No one cares about the details. Horoscopes are like Mad Libs:
you give them the starters and they fill in the blanks
with their personal lives and experiences.
Horoscopes should be empty boxes that people pack
with the cluttered thoughts in their head to make room,
to lighten the load up there in their minds.

And this treads on the territory of tip three: white lies.
Clear out all the anxieties, the mind needs the extra space
because that thing called hope? Yeah, it’s kind of claustrophobic.
It needs all that room to be comfortable. If the mind is filled with anxieties
that hang around like that roommate’s friend who’s always over
hope will check out. For good. So by the last line you better have them
picturing their perfect life that will unexpectedly fall into their laps
once they are, “receptive to the idea of changes to come.”

Your horoscope should be a cathartic, spiritual (albeit cheap) experience;
people want to hear that the stars are conspiring to bring them good luck
and the perfect lover. A piece of sincerity among lies and half-humor.
This is the formula for the perfect horoscope.
ConnectHook Sep 2015
[Infernal Dialectic of Ongoing Struggle]

Spoke Mao Zedong to Kim Jong Ill:
We languish here in deep red **** –
Let us confer and analyze
What factors revolutionize
The contradictions still.


Replied Lil’ Kim: The running dogs
Beguiled by class and capital
Have overdrawn and overspent.
They bank on debt, and make lament
And flounder in their fogs…


Kim chee does stink, but tastes so good
Do have some more, oh comrade Mao.
Fermented cabbage goes so well
With Hennessey and blondes (in ****)
when
Juche’s in da hood!

The Fearless Leader (now a shade)
Responded thus: Just give them time.
Our doctrines spread, their God is dead
Their sons shall sing ‘The East is Red’
Our party’s got it made.


Ill Kim displayed a wicked grin:
Our rocket-launches make them fear
They scold and cluck, and then they duck
While Hillary tries to pass the buck
I think we still could win…


The Chairman thought and sipped some fire
in communistic reverie, and feeling very clever, he
Replied to Ill: This place we’ll fill
with dead reactionaries still –
fifth columns to inspire.

Now let the thousand flowers bloom
And let one thousand thoughts contend.
Remember **? Remember ‘Nam?
We triumphed over Uncle Sam –
He’s limping toward his doom.


A wizened ghost now drifted in
Because his name had been proclaimed
A wispy beard (as yet unseared)
Revealed the mastermind once feared:
Old Uncle ** Chi Minh !

** ** – old friend! Draw near! Draw near,
Spoke Mao: In solidarity
We hail your work upon the earth
You showed them what a war is worth
You’re always welcome here.


Ill Kim and I were wondering
How best to make the forward leap –
conspiring ******* their cow
and smoke their duck and drain their sow
while they are buying bling.

** Chi, old warrior, why the frown?
Upon your wisdom now we wait.
The forces red you bravely led
You staked your claim until they bled
And brought their nation down.


Old uncle **, the sage revered,
did smolder with his cigarette.
Viet Cong thought is hard to grasp
It slithers like a jungle asp…
** paused and stroked his beard:

You speak without the people’s light!
I criticize in strongest terms
Your revolutionary thought.
We need to ask our friend Pol ***
How best to steer this fight.

Such gradual change, a halfway measure
stalls the Bourgeoisie’s demise.
Our true Khmer Rouge was not a stooge
of Kapital. His fame was huge
for plundering their treasure.

True, he had to purge his nation
such is revolution, gents…
The traitor classes see the masses,
through reactionary  glasses.
Death or re-education!

We ought to sow his rural seed
for pure agrarian reform.
The bodies in the rice can rot
to fertilize the harvest plot –
the people’s mouths to feed.


When Pol *** heard his tactics lauded
he flew in to join the jabber:
Take a tip from Kampuchea!
Listen well and I will teach ya!

Kim and Mao applauded.

City folk are useless eaters
glasses-wearing foes and cheaters!
let them ***** – and always save
their corpses for the fertile grave
Until they love their leaders.

From the barrel power grows –
(I don’t mean kim chee barrel, boys – )
Now learn my way.We’ll have our say
Their weakened states will wither away.

The Red dictator rose.

Prepared to ramble on for hours
(the way Fidel so loves to do)
Pol ***’s harangue now fired the gang
like rockets falling on Da Nang
emitting sparks in showers.

**** is known for lack of stasis –
Sudden throes of quaking fire;
fitful flares from from Satan’s lairs
and constant similar affairs
the population faces…

Thus Saint Pol ***, still naming names
along with Mao and Kim-Jong Il
while ** Chi screamed, and then blasphemed
were swept en masse, and unredeemed
into the surging flames.

Yet still they plotted in the blaze
with dialectic deviousness.
Philosophizing, strategizing
stinking sulphur brimstone rising;
ghosts in the yellow haze…

        ☭ END ☭
http://tinyurl.com/q6uyx34

Em MacKenzie Feb 5
con-spir-a-cy
Noun: a secret plan by a group
to do something unlawful and harmful.
Verb: the action of plotting or conspiring.

Conspiracy theorists,
are actually theorists of conspiracy,
while those in charge conspire.
While it’s easy to shrug off
and dismiss as “crazy,”
if you do the research
and dig down the rabbit hole,
you might start to question things
as well.

Take neither the red or blue pill,
as the pharmaceutical companies
will profit more from slow treatment,
or placebo effect, than they ever would from curing you once.
But open your eyes, and squint
to see, truly see, the world around you.

Why budget more into a military
than a healthcare or education system,
if you don’t intend to profit from it?
Industrial Military War Complex
is a real term and it’s definition
is dollar signs and blood.
The government is no longer politicians, but investors.

Sure some of us get a bad rap,
and we’re grouped in with the
eccentric or uneducated,
or just flat out theatrical.
But we’re the believers.
The ones who know that a society
is not just a structure, it’s a well
oiled, well designed machine
to keep the bottom on the bottom
and the top on the top.

I can’t say for sure that the Queen is a lizard,
and I’m pretty certain the world is
not flat,
but can any of us truly know?
Besides the Queen and those lucky few who travel to space...
how do you know for sure?
Even astronauts can be put into
a stasis, placed inside a simulation
and not know of it.
They would think they’re floating
in a satellite above our planet,
up until someone broke the
airlock, and they weren’t killed.

You see what I did there?
I took it too far.
And that’s what gets us the reputation of being crazy.
Would it be too crazy to believe,
those who take it a touch too far
are government plants to provide
an illusion of insanity
and discredit us completely?
You’ve heard of crisis actors,
but are their theorist actors?

Just know that the American government and CIA did once
(that we know of)
mull over the possibility of a False Flag Operation,
but on paperwork they rejected it.
The fact that the idea of attacking your own citizens to justify invasions of other countries
and create warfare was even on the table,
are the things that keep me on edge.
And should keep you on edge too.

I could go on forever about the
inconsistencies in testimonials,
footage, and Warren Commission Reports.
About common sense and intuition,
cold hard facts and brutal realities.
But, it’s not my job to pop balloons of blissful ignorance,
and those who don’t wish to see
the truth will forever stare at a counterfeit world telling themselves
it’s the real deal.

Anarchy would never work,
and communism could never be fair.
But democracy is made up of
well known names and popular
faces, of occasionally publicly approved personalities,
who are in turn overcome with
greed and then bought out and controlled by corporations and the big banks we entrust our salaries to.
They have our money, but not our
best interest at heart.
It’s like paying for a therapist
who will disregard everything you say, and then tell you to get back in line.

If someone aspires to have a position where they mediate and alter a group of people’s structure,
don’t you think they might have a power issue?
That if money makes the world go ‘round,
we’re all just numbers and barcodes?
And that maybe, it’s just safer for
those who make the world turn
to tell us what we want to hear
while showing us images of how
much worse it could be?
Just throwing down some knowledge. HP is even having trouble letting me post this........conspiracy?
Parker Sep 2018
I've lost my shadow under a bridge where I lay rest to all the times I've been wronged
It stops by every once in a while and asks me to play it a sad tune on my guitar
******* shadow
******* and all the places I've walked alone
I think the sun and moon are conspiring against me
in order to overthrow my pulse and lend it to someone that's worth a ****
Someone who follows there mind instead of there heart
Someone like you
I watch my ghost jump off high buildings far to often
Antagonizing me to hold its hand
Screaming on the way down all the names of the women who have shattered my world
My existence has become a record on repeat, playing a depressing song about never trusting another to hold your heart for to long
The vinyl has a single scratch that when it meets the needle my shadow and ghost appear crying and begging me to follow them into some dark forgotten place
Somewhere that robs you of your name and hurts anyone who ever loved you
Though silence is not what I'm seeking
My search is not one to numb what's left of me
It's one of bleeding on pages to strangers about a boy who lost his shadow and ignored his ghost just long enough to ride in this vessel until the wheels fall off
Just long enough to spill ink on a book and call it art
Just long enough to remind myself that the hands that created all this beauty and love, are the same ones who created all this pain and destruction.
Dondaycee Dec 2018
CFR
I’ve enjoyed luxury to my perceptive peak. I have enjoyed both the humor and seriousness in conceptualized thoughts regarding liberation. I’ve searched for validation in wanting to pursue mutiny. It’s unsettling to think that we consciously as a collective choose not to be aware of the dread that resides in reality. We know of crime, however we do not mutually share an ear to it’s severity. I found and experienced the genius in all whom I have shared the act of conversing with; within that same breath I have discovered that it is our very gift of intelligence that bound us mutually to stupidity as well. Understandable if there’s ignorance. My alarming question is why would we settle or be content with lack residing in systems that are meant for our personal development, and yet take a stand towards each other when the byproduct from the lack is elicited. We indulge in the idealism of what’s right or wrong when it comes to the collectives that resides near or in our personal experiences. That’s understandable. It’s baffling that we may, at times aid or protect the freedoms of men the public eye never see, however the lifestyle of a brother or sister that is considered an neighbor is hardly ever an topic for discussion (neighbors is referring to border lines). I’ve studied our history countless times and what I’ve find are sequences of events that have only divided the people and have never directly affected the power, function, or foundation that resides as the causation of these events. I have yet to find any actual evidence that shows or proves or validate that humans are incapable of being self governing with themselves. In fact I’ve found endless validation that defines the contrary. With this concrete understanding, I find it almost illogical and unreasonable to believe or even entertain the dogma that is circulating from mouth to mouth. This has never been a matters of liberation from a type of system and I’ll admit that I had previously conceived the thought that the problem resided within it’s varied function. I was terribly wrong. This has been a matter of truth. We are only missing the truth; the full truth. It broke my heart when I came to the realization that we haven’t been free for centuries. To no longer believe but know that our species have showed nothing but good and love at it’s best, has activated a light of happiness that will forever burn. With that said, I say In the same breath, it is absolutely terrifying that I have lived my entire life in a society that is the most oppressed throughout the world, and the beautiful innocent people that reside in this place, have absolutely no clue what’s happening in the shadows. I no longer have the strength to argue with anyone. I no longer have the strength to weigh in disappointment or form a judgement of another individual whom is living with complete involuntary action. All I have to give is love; The hatred I have towards myself was/is only because of wishful thinking, for if I ever had the opportunity of conspiring towards the CFR, I would, and I would’ve executed every step even if it meant closing my eyes to fully welcome an infinite dream. I would’ve, just to know that the concept of liberation was for once, actually experienced.
Amanda Dec 2018
I wonder if I will ever understand
You destroyed everything good
You sit there and blame the world
Claiming you are "misunderstood"

You whine that no one gets you
Yet don't bother to explain
You won't let anybody in
You have zero right to complain

Do not say nobody has tried
To open doors to your mind
I personally wasted years knocking
Genuine thoughts I have yet to find

It is hard to accept what someone won't give
Even harder to listen to words they do not share
I tried but it is difficult to love
A person who's presence isn't actually there

You act like I am the one in the wrong
As if I would have jumped ship if you told the truth
My loyalty has proved to be enduring
Been dealing with the same ******* since our youth

It's unfair to make me feel guilty
For taking the course I thought was best
Know I'm sorry for hurting you
But I will not apologize for all the rest

You excel at playing victim
Done it so much you really believe
The universe is conspiring to get you
In denial of the fact you deceive  

My biggest frustration with your fake facade
Is the time you spend fooling yourself
I'm powerless to flip your tired ways
Expose flaws you forced to hide up on some shelf

Fairytale you began fearing is finished
The easiest failure to flee
Freedom pushes frantic fingers further from you
Life to you is but a fading foolish fantasy

Satisfied spinning us round and round
Still I followed your dizzy path
Sedated souls stumbling over obstacles
Sickening secrets revealed without a polygraph

Our twisted relationship takes the most room in my heart
The bitterest sweetest disappointment was you
Though fleeting, this beautiful love was rare
I just wish I knew reasons behind the pain you put me through
I guess I'll never really get it

— The End —