"ehem" poems
Ehem ehem!
Mic test, mic test
Ayan gumagana ang mikropono
Siguro naman makikinig kayo sa sasabihin ko
'Di ako nandito para makipagtalo
Kung sino mas gwapo, ako o si Piolo
'Di ako naghahanap ng gulo
'Di naman kasi ako palalo
'Di ako nandito para makipag-away
Nais ko lamang mag-aksaya ng laway
Pati na rin bumuhay ng patay
Na sa bawat isa sa atin ay nakaratay
Kasi sinabi nila na naiburol na ang mga salita
Nailibing na kasama ng mga tekstong sa eskwelahan ay ginawa
Hindi na nga daw naaayon ngayon
Sa tinutuntungan nating henerasyon
Pero, saglit, teka!
Pakinggan mo, ang ganda diba?
Kung paano magtugma ang mga salita
Kung paano magtugma ang mga letra
Kasi sabi nila ang korni tumula
Na namatay na lahat ng bayani, kasama ang mga makakata
Na hindi na uso 'to, hindi na tayo bata
Na nauuto ng mga **** na gumawa ng talata
Pero ano ba ang fliptop, ano ba ang rap?
Hindi ba nagmula din ito sa parehong ugat?
Walang kwenta ang melodiya kung walang liriko
Hindi masasabing awitin, kung walang mensahe ito
Kaya ito ang subukan mo
Isulat mo sa papel ang nararamdaman mo
Ang sarap sa pakiramdam na mailabas ang mga ito
At bumuo ng isang kwento
Gamit ang mga salitang akala mo'y walang kwenta
Magiging himig ang bawat pagtutugma
Ang iyong kwento ay magiging tula
Na mananatili kahit ikaw ay wala na
Jun 9, 2015
Jun 9, 2015 at 3:57 AM UTC
muli sa inyong harapan,walang kiyeme.Ako'y may luha ng galak na sumasainyo
pigil hininga sa mga katotong bantayog na nakakasalamuha ko
halos hikahos kong kinu-kuyumos yaring mga mata ko na wala pang hilamos
pagkat sa tulad kong aba' ,kada rima ay sadya talagang mana nga o para sa tao etong aking paghangos!
isang nilalang na ang kara ay tila ba mapalad na albularyo
na di man lang kapara ng doktor na malawak ang bokabularyo
kaya't halina at ating paigtingin ang naturang tula at talumpati
sa tamang panahon at termino ng huwarang tupa at puting kalapati
ehem,,ayon daw sa isang bokasyon
dapat raw eh mag-bukas 'yon
Oo."ang hawla na seremonya sa KASAL
at tanging tali lamang ang may SAKAL
LAKAS sa paghila,manapa nama'y banayad
AKLAS man ang reaksiyon ng pagaspas sa paglipad
magsisitingala ay LAKSA hanggang ang pares ay magsidapo
mapapahangang gaya sa SAKLA.,tagos agad walang kahapo-hapo
edi wow aww aww...kahol ng bantay-bombang ASKAL
habang nababakas ang kasiyahan ng kapwa magpupulot-gata at ng mga saksing sabik sa sabaw
kapagdaka'y palakpakan naman ang siyang sa paligid ay pumaimbabaw
LASAK man na sa paningin ang pulang alpombra,hinde naman matatawaran mga alaalang duon ay naihalal!
Nov 13, 2015
Nov 13, 2015 at 3:25 AM UTC
This poem,
,
excuse me, ehem
i
doesn't care if you read it to the end
or if you don't like syntax, the grammar,
or
the capitol letters
line spelling
breaks (orspacing)
but perhaps you prefer that it be less...
understandable
Compromising,
that it comprises the
ENTIRETY
of
nature nursing nurture
[aligned to the Left]
That way you walk away feeling like it was something worth your time!
Respectable (as pronounced in the Spanish language).
And yet,
there is a
certain re
-gularity
to time...
like the tick of the clock---------------------------------------------
>>thatmadeyoucringe<<
congratulations-
nobody cared, or ever will--
it's the bread and butter---
Apathy
Apr 6, 2013
Apr 6, 2013 at 5:38 PM UTC
...
….You make me want to return into the shell I already broke out of.
I hope you
Your
You’re happy
Because it is now a cave. From which I will spend eternity.
Congrats. Congrats on showing me the world for exactly what it is.
A place. A dwelling.
A dwelling for those who talk against the slow, the weak.
THE RECOVERING. THOSE WHO WISH TO GROW.
Those who have nothing but good intentions. Intentions not for themselves but. For Others.
Congrats.
My soul is as rachet. As hated. As Hatred.
BECAUSE OF all things that came: Your gossip. Your rumors. Your hidden enigma….*ehem agenda
…
Got to me. Broke me in front of reality.
Naked and bounded by nothing but deceit. Discord.
I call on Shiva...but now..
...Jesus.
Please. Show me the broken way. The broken way back to glory.
If nails strike me down. I’m willing.
I’m willing go further. Not to death. But to suffer. But not suffice or succumb.
Because I'm giving in again. I’m giving in...again.
“And I’m just holding on for tonight, On for tonight, On for tonight”
“Help me, I’m holding on for dear....”
LIFE
And I decided
LONG AGO
That I wont.
***** THEM
!!!
…. “I’m gonna swing, from the chandelier, the chandelier”
“I wanna fly”
“Like a bird in the night”
Watch my tears as they fall
Make rain a ghost of
A proof
Of the broken
Broken glass, broken mirrors
Broken bones out of
Words
syntax.....
...
Dec 9, 2014
Dec 9, 2014 at 8:21 PM UTC
"ehem"
we all hear it
the voice of the once-feeble boy
whom we always assumed would
end up in some shabby office job
typing away schedules and making spreadsheets
avoiding fellow humans and drinking coffee– black
the voice that seemed so small to us then
now seems impossibilly loud–
ridiculously honest, and tragically sad
and no trace of anger or shame
or anything that bears resemblance to
the last picture of the boy
you carry in your minds
important people, marked by name-tags
and good posture–
nice suits
surround him
it's all very intimidating
all of you hoping
he makes no mention
of you, or you, or you
and the wait, for him to speak
is nerve-wracking and
feels remarkably long
with people tapping their feet
impatiently, and readjusting their ties
until finally he clears his voice once more
and addresses the crowd
the audience exchanges expressions
of amazement, wonder
his voice is strong and reaches you
though you're hiding in the very last row
and you can't bear to meet his eyes
or return his flashy smile
he makes a speech
and you settle into your seat
as you forget your own presence
all seems well
until
he stops mid-word
and meets your stare
and
all of a sudden it's 1979 again
and you're back in that playground
and you have a bat in your hand
and he has fear in his eyes
and he's crying
and begging you to let go
but something in you snaps
and you hit him
right across the nose
before you could stop– and then you sprint
it sinks in when you're halfway home
and you stop and hesitate
feel the guilt
but shrug it off
and walk the rest of the way back
the roles are reversed now
and he is clearly the bigger man
and you are small, and weak
and petty
a playground bully is your only claim to fame
while he is the president of this ******* country.
he starts again
and you feel worse than you would had he
given you the punishment you deserved
nope, this boy ain't angry- or ashamed,
only hurt, and blatantly sad.
so, so sad.
Aug 25, 2013
Aug 25, 2013 at 5:47 PM UTC
Don't be too obvious
Even your whisper could be heard
Don't be too obvious
Your glances could be caught
Don't be too obvious
You failed
And now he's looking into your eyes
And melting you inside
Aug 11, 2015
Aug 11, 2015 at 10:16 AM UTC
That's when I realised;
I'm not very good at writing dramatic single sentences.
Oct 21, 2018
Oct 21, 2018 at 6:06 PM UTC
As I'm looking at this new format,
in my utter bewilderment,
I think it must be a bad joke
I mean who really designed
this thing or is it completely broke?
Did you not stop to consult
any people who might be
using it -
like laypersons
( ehem... poets )
for example?
Myself the ex-tech analyst
I would have gladly helped,
as this is exactly what I tried
to prevent at my old job.
Anyway I am not sure
I'm going to be writing on this site
any longer
-unless they do something
about this harrible harrible format!!
and yeah I know I sound like Trump
but it just doesn't work correctly
with my computer
and I also lost a lot of poetry becuz of it.
Apr 11, 2017
Apr 11, 2017 at 7:44 AM UTC
melting
in warm waters
wasting away
to sin and bone
with you
and letting
life ebb
out of my mouth
gasping for
air
in the most
passionate
of ways
Aug 20, 2013
Aug 20, 2013 at 8:58 PM UTC
Ear Pupils Get
Drums have to
are a know
really good your
funny way feet
when of they
there letting are
is you your
nothing see best
else the friends
to world
hear
May 9, 2017
May 9, 2017 at 10:56 AM UTC
The brunt of your will
the hammered vacant
out of the bag look
of your swill
the brunt of every joke
especially when I'm not
joking
like when I described
our most spiritual
(ehem) moment-
I spray painted the ********
you put on the forehead of your ex-
wife's Buddha (ancient symbol
from those parts but the irony
was lost)
to place upon the grave
of our favorite cat
I supplied the pillowcase
while my dear panzerblitz
of a man dug. and dug
and I suggested that he
mound the dirt to allow
for sinking
he looked up, morning sun
in his bloodshot eyes,
"Do you think I've never
dug a grave before?"
So, now, whenever I look out
the back door the Buddha shines
not so much me anymore
I laugh out loud, inside joke
to be sure, and not my grave
anymore
Jan 18, 2019
Jan 18, 2019 at 6:42 PM UTC
Dear Mr Not Meant To Be
Whose blue stare is too intense
(Who gives a stranger poetry?
I've clearly lost all sense!)
Ehem!
I'm far to scared to talk to you
But wanted this off my chest
And though I see myself as brave
You've not caught me at my best
You! Mr Not Meant To Be
(maybe cause you're too pretty)
Are unable to even see me
And that makes me feel ...
Ok! Cause I know I'm great
A truly awesome rarity
That has too much on her plate
For pretty eyes that cannot see
So, though it ***** to be me
I bet it ***** to be you
But I'll see you around
From, Miss You Don't Know Who
(It's best to leave me anon
I'm sure I'm really not your "type"
If you feel the need to find me
Dude, do not believe the hype)
Mar 10, 2018
Mar 10, 2018 at 1:18 PM UTC