"dai" poems
digdi sa eskwelahan igwa nin mga pakawat
sa kada estudyante, gabos naghuhurulat
kun sain sinda pwede makaintra
para mailuwas an saindang talento asin makakaya
ano man an gibuon gabos patarabang-tabang
nagkikiwa lang, sin pensar an kapagalan
ano man an gibuon gabos may pagkasararo
maski pa an lakawon grabe kaharayo, dai nin suko
kun paghihilingon garo man an sa tunay na buhay
kun iisipon maski pagal bawal an magpahuway
laban lang asin dai magpadaog
patunayan kun nano kita kakusog
an kawat garo an buhay sa kinab-an
kaipuhan kusogan an boot asin dai panluyahan
girumdumon an kada hiwag laogan nin pagkamoot
magtubod tanganing an satong pangaturogan maabot
sa pagtarabangan, igwa pa da sin dai kaya?
ayaw kahadit kay uya kami, siya, ikaw asin ako,
uya KITA!
sarong boot, sarong misyon, sararo kirita
an gabos sa kinaban kakayanon ta.
Oct 24, 2018
Oct 24, 2018 at 10:10 PM UTC
Waqt Waqt Ki Hai Baat
Kabhie Tha Aap Ka Saat.
Zindagi Nai Dai Dee Mujhe Maat.
Dua Karnai Uthaya Merai Dau Haaat.
Waqt Waqt Ki Hai Baat.
Duniya Nai Di Mujhe Laat
Ristadaurai Na Diya Mera Saat.
Dostai Na Diya Mujhe Daat.
Dec 21, 2018
Dec 21, 2018 at 4:21 AM UTC
Alone into Rainy, twist a Dai clove, pattering rain, wind lingering foot Yuhuan, lengthy dark gray rain curtain hung plaintive, oblique rain splashes dusty track marks, those rainy season, those day's dependent, those nostalgic every night in this late spring rain, scraping completed my cold lonely, rain turned into a long and narrow alley Resentment, thwarted flows into atria, cool diffuse through the apex. Do not turn around in your mind of the day, I count, chatter thoughts of you, and for your Ai resentment, Acacia entanglement, filled Chu pain, no know what to say, but unfortunately does not help, once the owner of the rain falling, once clouds drifting sea oath, I never touched your warmth, sigh Lane is a rain: Wife - Why shallow edge. (yiwu export)
Came alone intersection, waving a monotonous right hand, held in our left vague shadow, the breakdown of the raindrops bounce dust, Red rain, your shadows, swaying like a willow in the rain erratic, like a hard rain exhibition wings flutter Ling heavy, like rain, pedestrians hurry hurry ...... once Pengguo footprints Bingqing appearance of your hands, had led a faint in the rain blessings Juyi Peng broken tile rain dream, comfort our goodbyes, we pay homage to the past. Acacia is the way the dust, whisk Yang is confusion of resentment, lost pain.
This year's rainy season to refresh my mind, I view Acacia dream dreams, the pain, resentment cut into the rain, stuck into the soil; tears into the hands of deep stone, sank; to have a bunch of rendering painful injury worry text buried in the memory, so that resentment heart of the sea to swim, let the pain out of the bone marrow, dusty track once marks, wound treatment desolate, firmly stand in Kuwata, enterprises no longer envy sea water. (yiwu export agent)
Let love and hate, love and hatred, grace and resentment, thinking and pain in the rainy season falling, drifting in the rainy season. I left alone a pool of water, the flow of soulful call. (Yiwu buying agent)
Aug 15, 2013
Aug 15, 2013 at 5:03 AM UTC
Is moeilik om te begryp,
en nie rerig mooi nie.
Dis 'n spoegspat soos 'n herrie-
'n gemmors wat langs die kar staan en bedel.
Dis 'n gemoedsbekakking... ag verskoon tog
verswakking soos die breakdowns innie gossip magazine.
Ag shame , hulle dra ook maar swaar aan society se crimes
en al dai drugs is maar ommie pyn te verlig.
Kyk nounet daar , sterre wat pyn , is seker maar
'n metafoor. Vir wat? Se jy my!
Jy wat my analiseer en dissekteer...
want daar is geen meer sterre wat pyn nie,
die woorde wat rym ennie
ander goeie goed is lankal van alle kleur bevry
in my agterkop waar dit donker is soos
'n land waar hoop 'n feeverhaal is.
Dis te donker om nou te rym,
maar te donker om in te hou...
so ek sny maar die kanker stuk vir stuk uit
en bloei nonsens-ink op die blaai.
Aan die einde is dit nie net die gedig nie.
Dis die ganse wereld wat rym.
Elke herrie en spoegspatter
elke gerookte ster en hartseer kokkedoor
ek , jy - ons almal is 'n gedig.
Ons almal rym...
ons is net te moeilik om te verstaan
en nie altyd mooi nie.
Jun 9, 2015
Jun 9, 2015 at 5:07 PM UTC
Nagpoon sa pagbagsak kan dáhon
An mga istoryang dai mo huhunaon
Na makakaabot sa susunod na henerasyon
Dai dapat pundohon an pagsurat
Kan satuyang tataramon asin
Dai dapat malingaw sa kagayonan
Kan pagbasa nin mga surat na hali
Sa mga utak kan satuyang mga pag-iriba
An oras na tinaya mo sa paggibo
Nin obra, surat, tula man o kanta
Basta nilaagan **** puso
Sigurado na iyan matalubo
Arog kan káhoy, daí pirming nahihiling
An pagdakula pero maabot an aldaw
Igwang saróng tawo an matambay
Sa limpoy kan hawak niya
Igwang sarong tawo an masirong
Ta makusogon an uran
Mahihiling mo an dáhon na nagbabalyi
Kapot kan duros pasiring sa banggi
An mga káhoy nagtatalubo, haloy magadan
An úbak sa hawak niya
An patunay na sinda nabubuhay
Dara-dara an mga istorya na sinurat ta
An mga piyesa na nakadukot na sa dugo ta
Sinda an giya
Na kita dapat an maprotekta
Sa palibot ta
Daí matatapos an buhay
Sa pagbagsak kan dáhon
Sa daga na iniistaran ta
Daí matatapos an buhay
Maski sadiring dugo ta
An magkugos
Sa daga na pinadangat ta
—𝐔𝐛𝐚𝐤, a Bikol poetry
Aug 20, 2020
Aug 20, 2020 at 11:50 AM UTC
Wu's dope was stolen
one white cocksucka, no two
Wu Swedgin hang dai
Mar 8, 2015
Mar 8, 2015 at 9:46 PM UTC
Paulit-ulit na sana baga
Daí ko na kaya, An sarò pang aldaw
Na madangog an kurahaw kan mga kalag
An mahiling an lalawgon kan mga nabayaan
Gurano an hustisya?
Kan mga demonyong dinadaya an ebidensya
Tàno madalion lang para sainda
An kapotan an buhay kan iba
Ta iyo ito an gusto kan diyos-diyosan ninda
Dai kamo makampante
Maabot an aldaw na mabalik saindo
An kulog buot na tinao
Mauran nin hibi
Asin kakakanon kan daga an hawak nindo
Ma-untol pabalik gabos na maraot na gawi
Sisingilon kan kasaysayan
An utang na mayong balak bayaran
—𝐔𝐧𝐭𝐨𝐥, a Bikol poetry
Aug 21, 2020
Aug 21, 2020 at 11:54 AM UTC
Zindagi ki Kashmakash mai
Ek Choti si Khauwish hai.
Anmol sa KehKasha bana dai.
Sep 24, 2018
Sep 24, 2018 at 1:56 PM UTC
L'anguilla, la sirena
dei mari freddi che lascia il Baltico
per giungere ai nostri mari,
ai nostri estuari, ai fiumi
che risale in profondo, sotto la piena avversa,
di ramo in ramo e poi
di capello in capello, assottigliati,
sempre piú addentro, sempre piú nel cuore
del macigno, filtrando
tra gorielli di melma finché un giorno
una luce scoccata dai castagni
ne accende il guizzo in pozze d'acquamorta,
nei fossi che declinano
dai balzi d'Appennino alla Romagna;
l'anguilla, torcia, frusta,
freccia d'Amore in terra
che solo i nostri botri o i disseccati
ruscelli pirenaici riconducono
a paradisi di fecondazione;
l'anima verde che cerca
vita là dove solo
morde l'arsura e la desolazione,
la scintilla che dice
tutto comincia quando tutto pare
incarbonirsi, bronco seppellito:
l'iride breve, gemella
di quella che incastonano i tuoi cigli
e fai brillare intatta in mezzo ai figli
dell'uomo, immersi nel tuo fango, puoi tu
non crederla sorella?
3.8k
A seventies child
Born in Wales, one of the four
Countries of The UK.
I remember brown as the colour
of the day.
Fabric embossed wallpaper
all the neighbours names, who married who,
who was carrying on, the alcoholic, the beaten wives,
Even, get this the peadophiles (or kiddy fiddlers as was known)
Dai the milk, Mair the bread, the shop of infinite items.
Rugby practice for dad, baking for mam
(Cake and babies) gossip over the garden hedge
Fish on a Friday a Sunday roast, hot sweet tea.
Bubble and squeak, post delivered before you
left for school. Mist on the mountain, dew on the grass.
Welsh valley life, sounds idyllic
but scratch the surface and a darker colour
than brown emerges. Petty squablings leading to
familial feuds, the Williamses don't get on with
the Joneses, and as for the Pritchards, less said the better.
School, local, no not for me. I was sent to a Welsh
School, taught and learnt the language denied to my
Parents by English politics. Cat amongst the pigeons there.
Did I think I was special? Ideas above her station. That's what
the neighbours say.
Well, you all had the option.
Dr Forbes FRCS
Delivered babies buried men and women
Loved by all, especially his lollipop sweets.
I wasn't a child to get ***** or rip wrapping paper
off of gifts, I liked to go under the stairs (like Harry Potter)
and read. I left the dirt for my sister born 4 years later.
Then in 1982 came my brother, tidy my mother describes it.
'74,'78,'82 poor dad to have to wait I say!
More pubs than chapels, more walking than driving
more rain than sun, more music than ever was sung.
The '80's came, and we had strikes, no electric, candles
toast made with a toasting fork over the fire.
No mines, no steel, no jobs.
Picket lines, dole queues, women in work
latchkey kids, Thatcherism, ******* times.
Falklands war, IRA bombs, Royal weddings
Tory rule
But, the fire in the dragon never went out
and Tom Jones still sings his heart out.
Cymru cysglyd gwlad y gân, deffrwch
nawr, dyma'ch tro.
May 15, 2014
May 15, 2014 at 4:27 PM UTC
High on the mountain, overlooking the valley,
the valley where I was born, is a wooden bench.
Standing to attention are the bottom of the deep V
are houses, all the same, all in a row.
From the bench the village can be watched
It's comings and goings, the neighbours gossiping
talking about nothing and everything.
Everyone is there down below,
John the butcher, Dai the milk, Mair the bread,
Oliver's shop, where anything and everything was for sale.
A picturesque Welsh valley, where everyone is actually
Psychotic, and where you'll never leave except in a coffin feet first.
Those of us that get out, stay out.
Old feuds still burn, families not talking,
not remembering how it started.
Chocolate box prettiness masks the tension,
the hate, the jealousies, the negativity held
in the ***** of the valley.
How green was my valley?
It wasn't green, it's colour was red, like a hell fire.
Oh, the trees were green, the mountain was glorious
but that valley was poison.
Jun 7, 2014
Jun 7, 2014 at 12:24 PM UTC
VACUUM CLEANER TANGO
---Lyrics by Jonathan Caswell
(Some misspellings are due to rhythm keeping)
The Vac…cuum Clea…ner Tango,
Is like…a juicy…mango,
Those fi…bers will…entangle
Your teeth or brushes, pretty quick!
The girls…who do…the cleaning,
Are ev…ver so…well-meaning,
To move…around…guys leaning,
That watch…and approve…the show!
Plugs must…be changed…more frequently,
If lon…ger hallways…decently,
Are cleaned…the most…expediently,
It’s all…a part of…the dance!
The vac…cuum clea…ner tango,
A dai…ly chore…is wrangled,
By clea…ners star…spangled,
Perfor…ming it with…extra class!
Feb 5, 2012
Feb 5, 2012 at 2:45 AM UTC
Ini an huring tataramon
Sa seryeng nagpuon sa umóy
Salamat sa mga nagbasa
Sa trentang tula na isinurat
Sa trentang aldaw nin kauyaman
An gabos na naisurat ko
Patunay na kaya ko man palan
Na sagadon an sadiri
Tiyaga asin pagpupursigi
Daing sawa maghapot
Sa mga bagay na dai aram
Padagos na paghukay
Kan mga gintong kaaraman
Sa trentang aldaw nin kauyaman
Masasabi ko na nahanap ko an kaugmahan
Sa paghanap nin tamang letra
Na mabagay sa sinusurat kong tema
Na mapagayon sa pinipinta kong obra
Gamiton an kauyaman
Sa pagkrear nin udok sa buot
Na magagayon na memorya
Ini an huring tula na ilalaog ko
Sa "mga tula tungkol sa u"
Pero dai digdi nagtatapos an kalbaryo
Mapoon na naman akong magisip
Nin susunod na gigibohon
Dios mabalos sa gabos
Padagos sa pagsurat
Dai nungka magpundo!
—𝐔𝐲𝐚𝐦, a Bikol Poetry.
Aug 22, 2020
Aug 22, 2020 at 11:52 AM UTC
There was Dai Puw. He was no good.
They put him in the fields to dock swedes,
And took the knife from him, when he came home
At late evening with a grin
Like the slash of a knife on his face.
There was Llew Puw, and he was no good.
Every evening after the ploughing
With the big tractor he would sit in his chair,
And stare into the tangled fire garden,
Opening his slow lips like a snail.
There was Huw Puw, too. What shall I say?
I have heard him whistling in the hedges
On and on, as though winter
Would never again leave those fields,
And all the trees were deformed.
And lastly there was the girl:
Beauty under some spell of the beast.
Her pale face was the lantern
By which they read in life's dark book
The shrill sentence: God is love.
2.8k
Nella Torre il silenzio era già alto.
Sussurravano i pioppi del Rio Salto.
I cavalli normanni alle lor poste
frangean la biada con rumor di croste.
Là in fondo la cavalla era, selvaggia,
nata tra i pini su la salsa spiaggia;
che nelle froge avea del mar gli spruzzi
ancora, e gli urli negli orecchi aguzzi.
Con su la greppia un gomito, da essa
era mia madre; e le dicea sommessa:
"O cavallina, cavallina storna,
che portavi colui che non ritorna;
tu capivi il suo cenno ed il suo detto!
Egli ha lasciato un figlio giovinetto;
il primo d'otto tra miei figli e figlie;
e la sua mano non toccò mai briglie.
Tu che ti senti ai fianchi l'uragano,
tu dai retta alla sua piccola mano.
Tu ch'hai nel cuore la marina brulla,
tu dai retta alla sua voce fanciulla".
La cavalla volgea la scarna testa
verso mia madre, che dicea più mesta:
"O cavallina, cavallina storna,
che portavi colui che non ritorna;
lo so, lo so, che tu l'amavi forte!
Con lui c'eri tu sola e la sua morte.
O nata in selve tra l'ondate e il vento,
tu tenesti nel cuore il tuo spavento;
sentendo lasso nella bocca il morso,
nel cuor veloce tu premesti il corso:
adagio seguitasti la tua via,
perché facesse in pace l'agonia... "
La scarna lunga testa era daccanto
al dolce viso di mia madre in pianto.
"O cavallina, cavallina storna,
che portavi colui che non ritorna;
oh! Due parole egli dové pur dire!
E tu capisci, ma non sai ridire.
Tu con le briglie sciolte tra le zampe,
con dentro gli occhi il fuoco delle vampe,
con negli orecchi l'eco degli scoppi,
seguitasti la via tra gli alti pioppi:
lo riportavi tra il morir del sole,
perché udissimo noi le sue parole".
Stava attenta la lunga testa fiera.
Mia madre l'abbracciò su la criniera
"O cavallina, cavallina storna,
portavi a casa sua chi non ritorna!
A me, chi non ritornerà più mai!
Tu fosti buona... Ma parlar non sai!
Tu non sai, poverina; altri non osa.
Oh! ma tu devi dirmi una cosa!
Tu l'hai veduto l'uomo che l'uccise:
esso t'è qui nelle pupille fise.
Chi fu? Chi è? Ti voglio dire un nome.
E tu fa cenno. Dio t'insegni, come".
Ora, i cavalli non frangean la biada:
dormian sognando il bianco della strada.
La paglia non battean con l'unghie vuote:
dormian sognando il rullo delle ruote.
Mia madre alzò nel gran silenzio un dito:
disse un nome... Sonò alto un nitrito.
3k
A journo aware, equally at home in Palaces, Halls or the streets
Trained to vision duplicity slants and angles and know the crux
Able to see the story behind the story behind the story and more
In ethics robed proudly while mendacity and shenanigans cry shy
Show me the Dai Lama in a crack den or Bill Gates ******* in Goa
Semi demi illiterates with joined-up thinking or unthinking
Immatures lacking emotional intelligence or gainful statures
In groupthink mired settles on group delusions in vicissitudes
We're programming or flooding seeds of doubts or confusing
As if maladroit fantasies are gospels not simpletons' chicanery
Dismissives sad dolts duly outflanked and outclassed inherently
Ignoramuses crude and coarse in true form lacking introspection
Wear disgrace proudly in persistence and parade idiocy fittingly
Strength in numbers neither nullifying stupidity or indignities
Indulgent cowards and sick gate-keeps of unearned entitlements
Nonentities, rabble rousers shamed vigilantes in emotional dearth
Claiming and luxuriating in the depravities of their deficiencies
I remain what I am and no apologies necessary for august status
Your diminutive deeds merely reflects your statures and intellects
Little minds already condemn you to suicides of real aspirations
CopyrightLaurenceA6thNov2018.allrightsreserved
Nov 6, 2018
Nov 6, 2018 at 3:10 PM UTC
Nagpadagat kami kan saróng aldáw
Ta ako pirmi na sana bagang ribaráw
Gusto ko man sanang malingáw
Kaya uni nagbabaláw-bagáw
Kaibahan si Papa naglangoy sa taháw
Kan dagat asin pagkatapos mabalnáw
Maugmahon lang ngunyan na aldáw
Makakan kan dara ni Mama maski na bahaw
Itong inihaw na manok tapos sabaw
Igwa pang masiramon na lugaw
Si tugang yaon sa pampang naglalakaw-lakaw
Garo may balak na magpalataw-lataw
Aram kong masakit makakuha nin ilaw
Na mataong kusog buot na mapukaw
Sa satuyang kalag na nakatúkaw
Garo baga bagong mata, mungaw-mungáw
Mabagsak man an bulalákaw
An masinggayang pagmati ma-ibábaw
Sa kinaban, Dawa pa an inaaagihan ta halangkaw
Udók sa buot asin bakong karáw
An makaibahan kamo, Dai malilingaw
Na mapadagat ulit kita sa masuronod na aldáw.
—𝐔𝐝𝐨𝐤 𝐬𝐚 𝐁𝐮𝐨𝐭, a Bikol poetry
Aug 19, 2020
Aug 19, 2020 at 11:37 AM UTC
one day the giant teacher
walked pupils round the world
some small giant boys
some small giant girls
jimmy giant stick your hand
down through the cloudy mist
tell me our location ...
his methods had a twist
think we are in india
triumphant in his call
i can smell the curry
and feel the taj mahal
julie giant,tommy, joe
***** stan, and sid
egypt was the answer
they touched the pyramid
china, shouted sally
i can feel the wall
chinese folk in paddy fields
i can touch em all
tiny taffy last in turn
came trailing from behind
dai stick your hand down through the sky
and see what you can find
BLAENAVON, shouted dai
while clutching at his crotch.
can you feel the big pit?
no,.... some **** stole my watch
Mar 7, 2010
Mar 7, 2010 at 1:39 PM UTC
Saro sana ang sakuyang nasa isip,
bago magturog asin pagkamata.
Bago magdiklum ang banggi,
asin pagdungaw kan saldang sa amay na aga.
Sa saiyang mata asin ngirit ako nauugma.
Dai ko aram ta pag nahihililing ko sya,
ako garu nasa langit na.
Salamat ta nabisto ko sya,
Salamat ta sa oras na ako namumundo yaon sya.
Basta ang aram ko PADANGAT ko sya.
Sep 4, 2012
Sep 4, 2012 at 12:16 AM UTC
i honny be ten minniei pooron sumfing slinkydai had pulled a stunner...the waitress from the chinky whah yoo fancy big boy?half naked in her finerysexcitedly he mumbledi'd like a sixty ninery i no cook this time o nightit nearly half pass twoyoo chauvinistic bastardthen hit him with her shoe
Feb 28, 2010
Feb 28, 2010 at 12:02 PM UTC
***** dai the dogger,
went searching thro the woods,
with hope of voyeurism,
or ********* if he could,
sound of heavy breathing,
saw shadows through the trees,
a man was standing up,
woman on her knees.
they noticed dai was watching,
a dogger with a bone,
would you like to join us,
if we take you home?
*** show and a *********
***** dai's delight,
they led him to a carpark,
in darkness of the night,
we don't live very far,
our house is near caerphilly,
lady did'nt say much,
her partners name was billy.
snuggled up in bed,
dai's pants off,
so was billy's,
then dai shot through the window.....
cos both of them had willy's.
Feb 27, 2010
Feb 27, 2010 at 1:40 AM UTC
Parla il cipresso equinoziale, oscuro
e montuoso esulta il capriolo,
dentro le fonti rosse le criniere
dai baci adagio lavan le cavalle.
Giù da foreste vaporose immensi
alle eccelse città battono i fiumi
lungamente, si muovono in un sogno
affettuose vele verso Olimpia.
Correranno le intense vie d'Oriente
ventilate fanciulle e dai mercati
salmastri guarderanno ilari il mondo.
Ma dove attingerò io la mia vita
ora che il tremebondo amore è morto?
Violavano le rose l'orizzonte,
esitanti città stavano in cielo
asperse di giardini tormentosi,
la sua voce nell'aria era una roccia
deserta e incolmabile di fiori.
2k
Walang forever sa taong bitter
Pero pano ka naman di ma bbitter
Kung yung ex mo kasi cheater
Sa una lang magaling
Susundin lahat ng hiling
Kala mo naman gwapo. FEELING!
Chos. Gwapo nga siya
Kaya nga lapitin ng disgrasya
Ubos ang pera sa’king alkansya
Ginagasta pang dota niya
Pati sa ibang babae. Walanghiya!
Susumbong ko siya kay kuya.
Minahal ko yun nang todo
Matalino ako pero naging bobo
Ang dali niya pala akong naloko
Siya pa nakipaghiwalay
Sa chat pa. Jusq dai!
Walang itlog ka bai.
May 10, 2018
May 10, 2018 at 12:12 PM UTC
doctor i'm in troubledon't know what to dosix o'clock on the doti always have a poolisten dai, thats normalyour bowels regulate.but our mam is going bonkers....i don't get up till eight
Feb 27, 2010
Feb 27, 2010 at 1:22 AM UTC