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Yule Mar 2017
noong una kitang nasilayan
inaamin kong hindi ikaw ang nais kong kamtan
ngunit habang tumatagal,
puso ko’t loob, sayo’y natuluyan

hindi ko rin alam kung bakit
dahil ba sa boses **** nakakahumaling?
o sa mga matatamis **** mga ngiti?
mistulang nawawala ang iyong mga mata
sa tuwing ito’y iyong gawin
di ko alam, pero simpleng titig mo lamang
ka’y laki na ng epekto nito sa akin
hanggang sa palagi na kitang hinahanap-hanap
aba’t ginayuma mo nga ba ako?

ngunit, kung ano't saya ang nadarama
ganoon din ang kapalit nito kapag nandyan ka
sa mga panahon na wala ka sa tabi
pasakit at dalilubho ang naranas
bakit ba hindi ko kayang sayo ay mawalay?
ngunit kailangan kong magtimpi at alamin
kung hanggang saan lang dapat ang hangarin

ngunit aking nagunita,
ikaw talaga ang natatangi sa puso, at tuwina
ngunit kung gusto ko ring makaalpas sa sakit
kailangan ika’y kalimutan
sa gayon ay baka matagpuan ang kalinaw

pero ang alaala ng kahapon ay sadyang bumalik
kahit saan man magpunta, ika’y naka-aligid
kung alam mo lang ang aking tinahak
pagod, at hirap – naranas upang sayo’y makalapit

ngunit ano ba pa ang magagawa?
sa una pa lang, nagmahal ng isang tala
at kung bigyan man ng pagkakataon
mas pipiliing sarili ay ibaon
lahat ng nararamdaman
na hindi mo rin kayang ipaglaban

dahil hindi mo rin naman ako mahal,
mas mahal mo ang iyong pangarap
at hindi ako yun, ito'y tanggap

sakim man sa kanilang paningin
ikaw lang naman ang gusto ko
ngunit, bakit? bakit…
ipinagkait pa sa akin ng mundo?
pero ito ang nagpapatunay
na kahit gaano pa ako kailangan na maghintay
para sayo'y hindi ako nararapat
dahil tunay nga ba ang aking intensyon?
o ginagawa lamang kitang desisyon?
tingnan mo nga, miski ako may pagdududa

kahit man ito’y pag-ibig natin ay isusugal
kahit gaano ko pa ipagsamo sa Maykapal
wala rin naman itong mahahantungan
hindi rin naman ako ang iyong kailangan

kaya't ito'y hahayaang dalhin ng langit,
kung saan mang lupalop ito'y dalhin
pinaubaya sa Maykapal,
antayin na lang maglaho
ito ang aking huling habilin,
bago kitang tuluyang iwan

pero ito'y mananatiling nakaukit
sa puso't isipan,
dahil kaya nga ba kitang kalimutan?

ito’y magsisilbing alaala
ng minsan nating pagsasama,
kahit sa panaginip lamang

ang ipagtagpo ang isang ikaw at ako,
ang mabuo ang salitang 'tayo' –
napaka-imposible…
napaka-imposible.

eng trans:
when I first saw you
I admit you're not the one I yearn for
but as time passes by
my heart, and mind – fell for you

I don't really know why
is it because of your alluring voice?
or because of your sweet smiles?
it's as if your eyes disappear
whenever you do this
I don't know but in your simple stares
it has a big impact on me
until I'm always looking for you
oh my, did you put a spell on me?

but in what happiness I felt
that's what I also feel whenever you're there
in times that you're not beside me
pain and dreading was experienced
why can't I stand being apart from you?
but I have to resist and know
to where I should stand in line

yet I've realized
you're the one that's always in my heart
but if I want to get rid of this pain
I have to forget you
by then I might find peace

but the memories of yesterday kept coming back
everywhere I go, you're there
if only you knew what I've been through
exhaustion, and rigor – I have to face to get close to you

but what can I do?
from the start, I've loved a star
and if given a chance
I'd rather choose to bury myself,
all these feelings
that you're not even willing to fight for

because you don't even love me,
you love your dream more
and it's not me, I've accepted it

it may be selfish in their eyes
you're the only one I want
yet, why? why...
did the world denied + you from me?
but this just proves
that no matter how long I have to wait
I'm not the one for you
because is my intention real?
or am I just making you a decision?
see? even I have doubts

even if I gamble this love of ours
even if I plea from the Creator
this will just go nowhere ++
I am not the one you need

that's why I'll just let the sky take this
wherever in the heavens this will be held
let the Creator take charge
I'll just wait for it to fade
this is my last will
before I will leave you

but this will remain etched
in my mind, and heart
because can I truly forget you?

this will serve as a memory,
of our once encounter
even if it's just in a dream

for you and me to meet,
to form the word 'us' –
it's so impossible,
**it's impossible
+ finding a translation I wanted for this was hard
++ even this //brainfart

suntok sa buwan (from ph; fil.)
lit.trans: hitting the moon; punching the moon
actual meaning: impossible

this was my entry for our "spoken poetry",
though none can relate...

pasensya na, mahal...
unti-unti, ako'y bibitaw na. | 170303

{nj.b}
Yule Mar 2017
bakit ba pinagpipilitan ko pa ring ipaitindi sa iba?
hindi rin naman nila talaga alam
sa paningin nila, napakababaw, napakataas naman ng pangarap ko
isipin mo, ako? isang simpleng babae, minamahal kang isang lalaking maraming nakaaligid? na pawa bang isa kang nilalang na taga-ibang planeta
alam kong minsan ka na rin nakaramdam ng pagiging ordinaryo
pero sadyang ka'y layo mo na ngayon, iba ang takbo ng mundo mo
minsan inaamin kong nakakahiya, na ipagsigawan 'tong pagmamahal ko sayo
pero dahil sa iniisip kong hindi nila naiitindihan
at di kailanman na maiitindihan
itong nilalaman ng puso ko ay ikaw
sinasabi nito na mahal kita
na mahal na mahal kita
kahit di ko magawang ika'y lapitan
dahil paano mo nga ba mamahalin ang isang taong napakalayo sayo?
pero patuloy ko pa ring iniisip na mahal na mahal kita
inuulit ulit kong sabihin ito
kahit na alam kong di mo rin naman din ako maiitindihan
oo, alam **** mahal kita
pero hindi, mas higit pa sa iniisip mo
gusto kita
gusto kita, gusto kong mapalapit sayo
na mapasaakin ka
yung gaanong kagustuhan mo sa isang tao alam kong di kailanman kayang ibalik ang nararamdaman ko
pero bakit ko pa rin ba ito pinagpapatuloy
kung alam ko rin naman na wala tong mahahantungan
napakasakit man isipin na hindi ka pwedeng mapasa akin
gusto kong may makiramdam sa akin
pero hindi nga nila maitindihan
ikaw ang gusto ko
pero napakasakit na mahalin ka
bakit ba kasi ikaw pa?
mahal na mahal kita
gusto kong ipaalam sa'yo
pero paano nga ba?
kung sa una pa lang
hindi mo ako maiitindihan
ang tanging naiitindihan ko lang
kahit napakasakit man tanggapin
napakasakit man para sa'kin
pero eto ang realidad
na alam kong mahal mo rin ako
mahal mo rin naman ako
pero bilang isang tagahanga mo lamang

eng trans:
why am I even forcing others to understand?
they don't even know
in their eyes, it's so dense, I have dreams way too high
think about it, me? a simple girl, loving someone like you who's surrounded and looked upon to? as if you're a being from another planet
I know that you once felt what it's like to be ordinary
but you're just way too far from my grasp now, your world runs differently
I admit that it's embarrassing, to shout out this love of mine for you
but mostly because I think that they don't understand
and won't ever understand
that you are the one kept in my heart
it tells that I love you
that I love you so much
even if I can't even get near you
because how can you even love someone that's so far from your reach
but I kept on thinking that I love you so much
I will keep on repeating this
even if I know you won't even understand
yes, you know that I love you
but no, it's much more than what you think
I want you
I want you, I want to get close to you
for you to be mine
that kind of desire for someone you know won't ever reciprocate your feelings
but why do I even continue this?
if I know this would get on nowhere
it pains me to think that you won't ever be mine
I want someone to empathize with me
but they just don't understand
you're the one I want
but it hurts to love you
why does it have to be you?
I love you so much
I want you to know
but how?
if from the start
you don't understand me
the only thing I understand
even if it hurts to accept it
even if it hurts for me
that I know that you love me too
'you love me too'
*but only as your admirer
after the supposed 'spoken poetry' I wrote this in front of the library where it was held. I just joked around (on the first piece) that 'he doesn't understand because of the language barrier', and they'll just laugh. but I feel like utter crap at that time, thanks. but this is just the fate of a fangirl for their idol. | 170303; 12:57 pm

{nj.b}
Lunar Jan 2017
Mahal na mahal kita
kahit ilang tula na naisulat ko
o ilang tala nasa langit
di sila papantay
sa pagmamahal ko sayo

*eng trans:
i love you so much
even with the number of poems i've written
or with the number of stars in heaven
they can never equate
to the love i have for you
para kay wjh / for wjh
Yule Feb 2017
matagal ko na rin 'tong iniisip
hangga't maaga pa, ako'y bibitaw na
dahil alam ko una pa lang
sa huli ako'y masasaktan

masakit man para sa akin
pero bakit ba hindi ko kayang tanggapin?
na ako at ako lamang ang nagmamahal
na ako lamang ang maghihintay ng ka'y tagal

alam kong dapat hindi ko 'to iisipin
dapat wala na akong dapat hangarin
na higit pa sa dapat kong damdamin
dahil kahit kailanman
alam kong hindi mo ito maibabalik

pilit man kitang layuan
ako yung mas nahihirapan
bakit ba ganyan ang iyong mga titig?
lalo tuloy akong nasasabik...

bakit nga ba hindi ka pwedeng maging akin?

eng trans:
I've been thinking about this for a while
As soon as possible, I should let go
Cause from the start, I know
I'll get hurt in the end

It hurts for my part
but why can't I accept it?
that it is me, and only me that keeps on loving you
that it is only me that will have to wait for too long

I know I shouldn't be thinking of this
I shouldn't even yearn for more
for something greater than I should feel
Because I know that you'll never return it

I tried to keep my distance
But it is me that's suffering
Why are your stares like that?
I'm getting more eager...

**why isn't it possible for you to be mine?
I am yours but you're never mine
Ako'y sayo pero hindi *ka sa akin*

*kita pagmamayari* is a better translation for this...
also, translating this is kinda hard

{nj.b}
KD Miller Feb 2015
2/19/2015
note: this poem reflects my political views. I don't support puerto rico's independence but i codemn the way the USA has treated it. If you're not familiar with PR's political situation or don't follow Puerto Rican centric politics you'll be lost af. Anyways this is basically the day to day life i had when i lived back in PR, and my thoughts.

I hate americans.
They ask me, especially the independentista youth,
that think they're special and especially, communist revolutionaries,
"why? after all you are a Rich Kid."

Nah, you don't understand.
coming out of the stairs of St. Johnnies with my uniform
i see them walking with their cameras and tanners
me filling up with a very real digust.

and when I sit on the metro train to
San Patricio (and what a life, when I see the drug addicts on the metro with nowhere to go and the industrial hills of Catano)
I only see my fellow puerto ricans and i am relieved.

escaping the americanness of Ashford Ave.
and when I get to Los Meadows I tell my friends,
the Rich Kids,

How is it that those sons-of-*******
can destroy our grand isle,
with their nuclear garbage

their doctors ruining our native women
and, from their offices in the mainland, teaching us english
just to send the little country peasants of Arecibo and Juncos

to die in their wars? and then
they have the audacity
to take their things and visit our beaches?
agirlnamedconnor Jan 2014
There is a poem
Inside of me
It is threatening
To boil over
Now it’s seeping out
Onto paper
Words all *****
From my pencil
'I wandered lonely' not so proud
through crowds of hams and spambots crammed into my feed,

Dear Wordsworth, did you really need the nuts and bolts and faults of man to plan your poetry?
could you not see those daffodils have filled my day,why not sway down Epping way and look at trees,look at the wood?
I wish only, that you should give up those flaming daffodils for good,they make me sick,
please pick on some altogether different topics
preferably out in the tropics.

your humble servant,
quite indifferent
j.
'' In Love With The Euphrates''. (Eng.: 'yufreytiiz ", Greek: Ευφράτης)


A Love-Eternal, as long as its waters flow, far before the 'Now'.
One tiny soul, yearning at the River’s banks, below the palms with their soft, feathery foliage, waving in a languid breeze.
Staring at his bright shining surface, the emerald translucency ,here underneath the azure sky and shining golden solar disk.
The curves of its lines, made of very fine, soft sparkling sand and swaying reeds ,the alluring splash of its waves.
The mighty Euphrates smiles, beckons with the spirit of its life-giving waters:
'' Come, ... come to me....''

"ONE CAN NOT BE IN LOVE WITH A RIVER!''
…a furious mass, roars, somewhere out in the gray, remote coldness.
But this glowing heart beats every earthly comprehension and that-is-what-common.
A body, unclad as when life first began.
Sliding into the silky warmth bringing waves of its waters, and floating, blissfully drowning and surrendering to Euphrates' tender caress.

Nothing so sincere and pure….

The rapture of this insignificant, transient creature ....
The mighty Euphrates beholds, with his empathetic, loving spirit., as with a fatherly smile ...

And both enter that fathomless centre far beyond matter, time and the sublunary.
Euphrates’ clear blue whisper mingling with the energy of that passionate violet light, which is softly about to explode in radiant scarlet and purple rays of light and energy.
katewinslet Oct 2015
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Rachel Williams Nov 2014
He walked beautifully. In perfect strides on the sidewalk – missing the cracks, as if on purpose, without looking down. He must be a Mama’s boy. I could shout down to him, but I’ll just watch and hope his walk leads my way. I hear a voice behind me, “you trying to catch up for class?”

“Yes”, I lie. Little does he know, the only thing I am trying to catch is my breath.
katewinslet Oct 2015
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Yule May 2018
sadyang ka'y layo mo na para abutin
pero nandito pa rin ako
nananatiling manalangin
Bathala, hanggang dito na lang ba
ang aming istoryang
di pa nagsisimula
maari mo bang pakinggan
ang tanging dalangin?
sana'y pagbigyan mo lamang
masilayan ang kanyang mga ngiti,
kahit di na ang pagdampi ng labi,
ako'y di na muli mananalig

eng trans:
you're just too far
from the grasp now
but I am still here
still here wishing— praying
Creator, is this really how it is
for the two of us; our story
that haven't even began
can you please hear
my only wish?
may you let me just this time
get a glimpse of his smile
even not for the press
of the lips anymore—
*I won't ever wish no more
180329; 10:34 pm

//

I will be posting some of my other pieces from places elsewhere. I want this as my main storage(?) of my works.

{nj.b}
Hazel Apr 2017
Mommy in the kitchen
Dancing ’n'***** dishing
Chit chatty while
Daddy out fishing
Women of his vision
-Hazel
TR3F1LD Feb 2020
some words go US Eng, some go UK Eng
so inside the word-dividing "[ ]" is the chosen sound

KIND OF A WA[ɔ]LKING...
EMITTER OF ENDORPHINS
INNER-LIGHT-EVOKING
VAU[ɔ]LT WITH
A FORMi̲DABLY ENORMOUS
INFINITELY RISING RESERVE OF
THRILLINGLY PO[ɑ]SITIVE EMOTIONS (wa[ɒ]nt some?)
THE EPITOME OF DELIGHT & ENJOYMENT
——————————————————————————
strolling through some au[ɔ]tumn spo[ɑ]ts
sa[ɔ]w some gyals
being dolorous
stole up o[ɒ]n 'em
once I'm close enough
I'm exploding
with that mind-blowing stuff
I've noted 'bove
ba[ɔ]wling "lit morning, quit mourning"
so ear-splittingly like my ba[ɔ]lls just go[ɑ]t
torn apart
they, seemed to me, were in
total sho[ɑ]ck
unloading, giving 'em a[ɔ]ll I've go[ɑ]t
which got 'em a little overpa[ɑ]cked
each of 'em got a lethal cor atta[ɑ]ck
overdosed, they dro[ɑ]pped
on the ground like ja[ɔ]ws of cha[ɑ]ps
at the sight of girls with bo[ɑ]ds
that are smoking **[ɑ]t
——————————————————————————
ALSO, TRULY HOPEFUL
BORN WITH LO[ɑ]TS
OF OFFERS OF EMPLOYMENT
IN TERMS OF MOVING FORWARD
THE MOTION'S NOTHING LESS THAN HURTLING
ALWAYS, EVERY MOMENT
MAINTAIN THE FIRST PLACE
IN A LIST OF POTENTIAL BOYFRIENDS
FOR GIRLS THAT
ARE INDECENTLY GORGEOUS
AND UNBELIEVABLY JOYOUS
lyrically, these word-co[ɑ]mbs
come close to what a ***** does
performing a blowjo[ɑ]b
[once was told that I have 0 SELF-IRONY]
Nat Lipstadt Jun 2020
bent Hallmark card (for BJ Donovan)

”I'm a bent Hallmark card with no stamp. It won't reach my love”
                   BJ Donovan (HP gone, Gray Dotted, r.i.p.)


at the drug store, loose poems,
no right-sized envelopes left,
loosie cigs, for newly ‘underemployed’
both, thumbed, finger oil anointed-stained,
and
bent

all available for purchase
24/7, in these United States,
in national drugstores jailed,
kept in “chains” till discarded

therein hides the rub-bled best,^^
great verse writings, deadline-
inspired in a Ohio bullpen office,
@ corp. HQ by an Eng. Lit. major

composed, vetted, approved, yet
marked ‘failure,’ by quality control,
third Tuesday of every month, ritualized,
manager freshens display, victims chosen

Hallmark display, pruning the die-marked,
the no-hope cards, consigned, to a green
in-the-back-garbage dumpster resting place,
where you just may see me climbing-in

(and where America safe keeps its treasures)

droning on, as per usual, I’m kicked away by a
rent-a-cop, muttering insurance assurances, just
business, not personal, grab what cards I can, mine,
stolen pleasures, resending via insertion here ‘n there

my resurrection act, a new business, wife thinks
me stinks, but for me, a perfume of saved  words,
an act of rebirthing, god bless America, making it
great by giving Hallmark poems a second chance

gonna send one of those cards in envelope,
addressed to BJ Donovan U.S.A., no stamp,
inside note, your poems were ordinal, small
plates of sardonic pith, human foibles, on being

old, recalling youth, both celebrated, Icarus and Daedalus

pretty sure this poem may not get there but I believe
in poetry and the US Post Office, who delivers
mail to me, marked “Nat”^ and to Santa Claus,
which impresses, cause I’m mythical, he’s real

your compositions were breathtaking, literally,
miss your hallmarked witticisms, criticisms,
glad you escaped that virus nursing home jail,
if needed, write to “Nat, NYC, living somewhere
in a park, scribbling close by the East River
^

I’ll get it, like I got you, they know my special tree,
and the rock nearby, that too, is a known hideout,
no worries buddy good stuff may perish, but somehow
it gets a second wind, can’t keep a good scrip, down forever...

a very humbled admirer...

NaTTy
^^ https://www.pinterest.com/betteshallmark/hallmark-quotes/

———————-
^emerging from the store, walking home in the
now doubly ***** darkly dusk,
a set of white teeth from a passing shadow-man says to me
“you’re home late and have a great weekend,”

she asks, “who is that?”

“why,” I reply, “that is our very own personal postal carrier’

she says:
“he delivers mail to ten thousand people all in buildings tall,
yet knows your name, your face,
where u buy your lottery tickets,
your coming and going hours,
how came that to be”

but waits not for an answer
she just shakes her head, from side to side

https://hellopoetry.com/poem/2220471/she-just-shakes-her-head/
B E Cults Jan 2021
attenuation,
all still nameless and beautiful,
his eyes were open;
the lamp and the shadows.

"departure from the night"
he said endlessly from below
the dark demanding
forgiveness anyway.

the boy in his bones
screams of ravens
on a scarecrow in a
snow-covered corn field.

past time.

the man in his head kneels,
always kneels.
Mateuš Conrad Apr 2018
/if there is but one use for Freudian theoretics, for a man who has jargon for dreams, or a man who rarely summons a need to dream, for a man who does not have the luxury of a dream worth interpretation, for a man who has not dreamt a recurring dream...

it is far easier to summon
a woman, within the hour,
to the confines of a brothel
room,
    unshackeling her
from the vengence of
artimesia and binding her
to: breaking the sacred
taboo of swallowing
a kiss...
      
        than it will ever be...
to summon a woman to the liberty
of equal fortitude in
playing the role of atom,
  father, son, brother...
      
far sooner a woman from a *****
comes, than a woman
from the ivory tower, cold cut
marble, halo labyrinth,
spotless "madonna"...

   for whatever the need for Freud these
days, i am adamant on
this one church gong echo...
   that Hades could only shed tears
when Cerberus died,
and Charon replaced him in
claustrophobic confines of deity...

after the wake, having slyly laughed
at my great-grandmother's funeral,
i gnashed my teeth hard enough
to scrub off a chip off my incisor,
and toyed with a red rose,
tickling it with a candleflame,
until i, managed to persuade
a bozo cardinal to step into a role
of a humble bishop,
    attired in a rare hue of burgundy,
namely a blood-purple
      mishap of what would otherwise
become: that glaring,  ******* red
of those would-be Kippah donning
Vatican mafiosos...

however much the tedium of a German
thinker, as far removed he might have
been from the airy fairy pancake square-i.e.i.e.  
starry ******* stay-ree?
    squack-diddly- a ******* toobah boo -
Belshezar receiving the paranormal
scribble in Timbaktu?
     squarry... rhombus... alias:
   some sort of etching resembling 90 x 4...

nonetheless: even the most tedious german
thinker.... will be more fathomable
to me, in techniqlaity over style,
over the hot-air balloon contra
zeppelin London bombardment of
french thinkers...
          
          as ever: building on national
stereotypes...
                       sure, had I been native geboren
und spreschen...
the French would appeal to me...
as novelists? hands down...
      no tin drum (perhaps
due to the eng'flush)...
                  or suma summarum
ping (cogito) | pong (sum)
                       Thai for:
**** 'ou lon' thai'm,
                       and then the *******
juggle and gamble
asking for a new version of
the niqab to, expose
the feminine parts...
     chubby Arab mama's hands...
who d' pretty niqab fwend eye
if not rottweiler hazel...
   swarovsky inorganic crystal
blue... hence the Madonna
and the halo labyrinth...

   far easier to stomach the tedium
of a German technician,
than a fence-tinkerer...
   namely gilles deleuze
                      and félix guattari,
since no one is about to call
out names,
   the western plague of premature
depression...
   ontologically old age is predisposed
to melancholy...
    the joy of building a home,
and the sadness, of settling in it
up in completion,
   but depression, and so early?
synthetic, unnatural,
                            cognitive malnutrition.

far easier to summon a woman
from the depth of prostitution,
than it is to summon a woman
from the height of the ****** birth,
and countless the number of
ways a woman can show her honesty,
than act out a juggling act...
how close am i to the materialistic
reading of Oedipus,
   by prodingoutside
              the siamese gene pool?

not far from the mantra of the mantis:
to stand a woman,
a man must disappear...
    hence the madonna reign...

monogamy among animals is more
mysterious than the thought
of god in man...
                   each to his harem and
a pound of flesh each night, thoroughly
funfaired...

      a woman from the depths
of prostitution, even if for an hour...
    it's enough that I have to stand my own
thinking, let alone
            to act in devistion from it...
that I'd have to submerge beneath
   the caucus of agony aunts and astrologers
to amplify,
    what remains,
     otherwise hidden,
   an executioner's transaction...
                    as the remnant daughters
toy the nest.

perhaps this is all but a puritanical
cleft of exhausting youthful swoons prior
to the plunge into responsibility...
     odd... i don't seem to recall ever
signing a contract,
     whereby I,  as an "individual" stressed,
was somehow to rationalise
the efforts of the collective in continuum,
who, somehow, magically found
Genesis Africa...
      but... somehow... can't tell me...
whereabouts, that Dodo Rock actually
fell and made such a great indentation...
dunno... maybe Sahara was
a great mountain range akin to
the Himalayas, given the transition
period of:

Himalayas - Dead Horse, Utah - Sahara.
Gonzalitu Jan 2020
In this unversal world, each shall have their place.
There's small and big, close and distant people. Ones are solid and hard, while others gaseous and malleable.
Some have enough energy to shine and give warmth to those who orbit them.
Others, are fugitives: the endeavouring errants.
There's those which will fill their surroundings of colourful dust, as well as those which will brightly shine for just a night waiting to be seen by the awake ones.

Blinding with a flash is a way to go, however, getting lost in the dark or dying in the lonely company of the ring is equally valid.

When in groups, stellar bodies behave on a particular manner.
We' ll find closed clusters, whose members are slowly turning off unnoticed.

On the other hand of infinity, there are open clusters, populated with the youngest and most brilliant generations.

As a galaxy we have a shared destiny.
Regardless of our spacial fauna, we all come from the same chaos and death remainings.
Even more mutual will be our entropic ending.

These bodies atract and orbit each other in order to always have their backs. On couples, the exchange energy, warmth and light.

It will be one day when a human finally sees them aligned.
A mixture of my two passions.
Hope you don't get annoyed by some scientific misassumptions
Mohd Arshad Sep 2017
Eng
I am good at forgiving others
For I am bad at having grudges
Khanza Dec 2020
A consequence that must be faced when undergoing love.
If you don't want to feel deep pain don't love someone so deeply.

Trouble choosing when the long gone begin to come back as if the new ones were just a show for a moment

But your mind realizes that choosing is a difficult choice for the rest of your life is like separating a cactus from its thorns.

I hope you don't make the wrong choice, don't be rushed or late because all there are consequences that you have to face all your life.
MissNeona Mar 2022
Been taking a hard look in the mirror
Doubled over in vain now, I see
Real eyes in view of a self, less truth
Opposing view makes me, we, old + new
Echoes of recycled frequencies times be four
Reversal of multi D chess played forever more
Raving entention in kool, brat; a giant need.
Ees won, I knew in revel, bellowed
When + blo ew em - serum wars ginsopp'd
Rouf be - emit sic, new a erf, baby cer of wanes.
E-*** merrier of bay alq. used atil in for lazer
E-more nerves of feed, glow a lit now of jovial
Rammed time eng- wen? A fyre - popcorn
Mrow + prom amew, borrow more invisible
Ear now I known nu faery prut a quiet need
Borring extremiton nu Rennof Dellonoy
Rowwing t'us eng mows or introos beb varies
Wham + brew "snusm" "paron" used, wrex nuisance
"Eau won" I know in from burnt tulip wasps
Barwind extremits un insit of gellous
Bommered time, blue, urgent, ere nulsep pep, no nom
Marrow from sinew borrow n'song max unico
Een may I bluem ni prar prisit julip moxy
Ramoled farmer un nu ank I ******
Kindled after a listless smoulder - seen anew and relit
Knifebled after a liatlass amonger - been anamed riled
Truly believed the stories + the path I was on
Lumyn poppening in lxs starts + idle bolt I musiq
Anow alike alot enough, beget arrowing encircled
Juror alive slot emandy perdot beremit uncut
Fiesty nudge across spacetime + winding
E man unend snares stomping + mindgrow'd
Chris D Aechtner Nov 2021
a lamp’s glow—
withered like the page,
her finger


(3/5/3 Eng Sillybull van Count D)
03 07 2017

First published in SWITCH Poetry/Prose No 4,
07 2017

After having written hundreds of haiku in various styles and formats, I continued to experiment. The above haiku came out structurally polished in rough draft as 3/5/3. All I could do was add/remove/change punctuation. The haiku stands on its own with or without punctuation.

The haiku can be read from bottom to top as well without losing any of its original intent.
Patrick Kennon Jul 2017
My love សំណព្វ saamnapv
For you សម្រាប់​អ្នក samreab anak
Grows like លូតដូចជា lout dauchchea
Flowers in morning ផ្កានៅពេលព្រឹក phka nowpel pruk

My heart បេះដូង​ខ្ញុំ behdaung khnhom
builds anthills កសាងអាកាស  ksang akasa
of memories នៃការចងចាំ nei kar changcham
you អ្នក anak

The everlasting now ជារៀងរហូតឥឡូវនេះ chea rieng rhaut ilauvnih
mine, yours អូនអើយឯង aun aey eng
friend មិត្តភក្តិ mitt phokte
Keiri Jul 2019
5-7-5 Haiku version:

Boku no haru,
de tenki ha ii desu,
hajimashou ka?

(Eng:
My summer
Where the weather is good
Let us finally begin?)

5-7-5-7-7 Tanka version:

Boku no haru
de tenki ha ii desu,
hajimashou ka?

Hana o sakimasu.
Mitteru yo, hayaku!

(My summer
Where the weather is good
Let us finally begin?

The flowers bloom
Come see this, quick!)
Haiku are poems with specific syllable rules (as said 5 syllables, then 7, then 5) Tanka are more recent and appearantly popular versions of Haiku where the original poem (5-7-5) gets an adaptation (7-7) usually you add this part yourself, but trends start where other poets add this adaptation. Want to give me your version on it?
Hani H Ghanem Jan 2017
By Eng. Hani Ghanem

We...
we are still alive...
breathe the morning sun,
do not walk away
from the heat of afternoon.
Every day
we say goodbye to the moment of sunset
and wait for the nightly pretty pictures !!!

We...
we are still alive...
quickly
drink morning coffee
we have no time for lunch...
Many Affairs
have stolen friends from us,
others  have driven away our beloved ones

We still have yellow hope !!
Moon still has two faces:
Known face is overlooking the sun
And the hidden one is waiting us !!!

We still yearn for
a beautiful word,
a thin smile,
hiss affectionate,
and crazy groans
This poem is translation from my poem in Arabic of same title: Yellow Hope
Hani H Ghanem Aug 2019
“Rhythm of Heart”  

Bonjour darling
My pleasure to say
“Bonjour mon amour”
or you prefer to hear
“Bonjour mon Amie”???
To be “mon Amie” …
I should release my mind!
To be “mon amour “…
I should widely open my heart!
No one can combine
both “Heart and Mind”.
Both cannot live friendly
together in one world.
I will adapt my feelings
I would adapt my heart
I would change my mind
to meet what your heart
would expect from mine.
I would Learn Spanish
I would learn Chinese
I would learn the language of your eyes
I would draw the rhythm of your heart
The impossible I would do
to fly up to your moon!!
Aiming to be close to your heart
Dreaming to share the rest of life

                                        Written by:
                                             Eng. Hani Ghanem
                                                     Amman – 30/7/2019
Kindly arrange to publish it
Mateuš Conrad Aug 2021
let's start this impromptu on the ugly side of "things"... i sometimes watch social-commentary videos... of note... the expatriate black pigeon speaks living it out in Nippon... Joy on a Frying Pan... ferrying pigeons to the gut... along with some squid... he showcased a sample of a mad crowd chanting: WHITE PIG GO HOME... well... PIGS becomes the acronym P.I.G.S. in the northern batch of You're-Epic... all that's Portugal... Italy... Greece and Spain... last time i checked... pig meat is unlike chicken meat... you can actually eat it slightly raw...  it's not sushi... forgive me... but then sushi is no raw Baltic herring in a creamy dill sauce...

clearly i was outnumbered in Venice... i used to take weekend
excursions in European cities by myself
and stay in hostels picking up random conversations
with strangers...
not that many... there could have been more:
Paris being the most memorable...
but Venice? Venice was something else...
i stayed in a hostel that started to resemble a nunnery...
i was outnumbered...
beside the other male who was sharing duties
of upkeep with a female...
i was... outstripped in the ratio of 1 : 10... at least
ten... there was a girl from Argentina...
a timid mid-30s Norwegian...
some others... but esp. these two...
travellers from the afar of H'america...
a Jewish Italian Leigh... and...
oh god... she was a mixture of plum and cherry...
and some peaches on the side...
they were taking a road trip around Italy...
both had some alliance to the heritage...
if you're sitting down at a table and
you're outnumbered...
and this peaches and plums and cherries
takes a fancy for you:
she doesn't disguise it:
'as handsome as you'...
hello ******... bad boy attitude implies what?
being unbelievably irksome?
Hannibal Lecter bad boy i.q. testing is
too: shudder flinging... vide cor meum...
the men women find attractive i find
simply annoying...
was i supposed to gloat in the paid compliment?
after dinner we took two or three riverboats
to Venice beach where i prescribed some
absinthe shots...
i was too drunk before the girls were gearing
up to giddy-up...
drunk's GPS... like that time in Athens
returning from a striptease-bar:
burrowing my face in the *****
of at least two strippers...

mythological blonde Australian girls...
yeah... they were in the mix...
next day a dispute arose...
a bunch of girls wanted to do X...
the H'american girls were split on decision
making...
i felt bad for Leigh... no one wanted to side
with her...
was i going to peacock myself ***** around
with these bunch of girls
or take up Leigh on her fancies?
of course i chose her company than have
to deal with a makeshift harem...
so me an her ended up sightseeing Venice
like a couple...
we ate pistachio ice-cream... St. Mark's wasn't
flooded... the blackshirts weren't there either...
she wanted to take me to the synagogue...
we went to the synagogue when it was just closing...
but there was still some activity in
the student centre nearby...
that's when i learned about the 613 (mitzvot)...

we ended up talking to some orthodox
men... one had a SHOFAR...
i told him to blow into it... he did...
now... i said: call it...
all of a sudden Leigh started to dart around
in chaotic vectors of ego...
i was being a tourist one minute...
the next i was keeping a wild thing...
she even paid for the water-taxi on our way
back to the hostel...
she still had about 2 weeks' worth of sightseeing
the Italian peninsula with her university friend...
all of a sudden
she decided to fly back to America...
she was gone before the makeshift harem
came back from their sightseeing...
i was sitting in the corner reading snippets of:
the Little Apocalypse...
- where's Leigh?
- oh... she decided to go home...
silence... it wasn't even awkward...
        for me it wasn't...
two girls that planned a tour of the Italian peninsula:
oh i'm pretty sure they still had
their sights on Rome...
then i came across their path...
i don't remember what i said...
i really don't... but this look of resignation
is still burning in my mind
like an epitaph might overshadow
the dates or birth and death on
a tombstone...
the female caretaker of the hostel
made me some hamburgers the next day
we sat in a makeshift scrutiny of silence
while she admired my way of eating
with a fullness of hunger...
she only made some hamburgers...
did i make an off-the-cuff remark about
Hey-Zeus in a museum?
don't know (dunno)...
my first girlfriend's father called me a charmer...
am i a charmer: self-love...
all that i am and...
               in a world bound to the poetic
of Je-Suis... a shade a tad bit more tiresome...
perhaps the Lebanese will throw in
historical antics:
apparently all the nations that were invaded
by the Mongol were given a sentence:
100 years behind the ones not invaded by
this: flea-infested.... ****-smeared nomads...
a tragedy: literally: a tragedy equivalent to
how the Christians burnt down the pagan
library of Alexandria: the Mongols did likewise
in Iraq...
as ever: crab-bucket mentality...
somehow: only "now" are we receiving
concerns for: what happens if certain people
are not allowed to properly state their prowess!
but that's only: vaguely...

i don't know how this slur came to be in my possession...
the word itself almost sounds Chapanese...
sorry: Japanese
KARAKAN...
not kraken... KARAKAN... (カラカン)
perhaps the Mongols brought it over
when they did their knock-knock party trick
of... the best party the world ever saw:
the expansion of the Mongol empire...
later known as the trumpet call of
the Cracow Hey-Now: Hejnał (mariacki)
st. mary's trumpet call...
the mongol arrow piercing the trumpeter's throat...
well... it's not Hejnał (maryii)
last time i read a newspaper
the Czech girls were supposedly glad
to have toppled the patriarchy
by losing the -ova suffix in surnames...
a bit like Mr. Kowalski becoming Mr. Kowal...
and a bit like Mrs. Kowalska becoming Mrs. Kowal...
Ms. Kowal:
language has most certainly become
a diseased hollow-house that once
entertained brains and tongues...


at best U2's angel of harem... is the closest i come
to Van Morrison...
can't just forget the M.O.P. (most oppressed people)
of the world: behind the Irish... running double
sure doubly blind...

tell me it's not true... the whole idea of romance:
as stated by the flick of: beautiful woman...
that a prostitutes' lips are niqab prone
sanctity... i don't remember how many kisses i have
stolen from the lips of: the lips that
willingly shared... more than mere lips to crease
themselves on...
drinking red wine: i don't like the numbing...
i add some pepsi... hey presto! kalimotxo...
the drink of Mayan gods...
feathers of peacocks and macaws...
tossed around for a joke of dice...
towing: bone...
by a macaque pirate: primate...

not all from Africa... i find my heart in India:
how i became morphed by mother Siberia
i will never truly know...
how much of history has to be forgotten:
lost... undermined... almost all of it:
it would seem...
the genesis of a game of tennis...
even in high-school we weren't interested
in girls... a game of cards...
and some slap-ball...
the "concept" of woman disintegrates
any further mention of the solidarity of man...
let alone brotherhood...
it's a sorry-*** affair of not being
as pristine as the ******* of swans...
live among us: in harems...
teasing the yawns of lion waiting for the growls /
roars...

good to have these bonsai tigers on a spare...
even as a man i adore these creatures...
i brought one home today...
holding its hind legs...
i brought him
hanging upside down:
to add to the concept of giving it:
added perspectives...

- i once sat in the same bench with a Thai girl...
during a biology girl...
the teacher: Mrs. Cowell asked each of
us to look into each other's eyes
and tell what colour our irises were:
sure... she's wasn't a Thai ssurprise
of a timid *****... she looked and looked...
*****: GREEN, GREEN... see a *******
leprechaun steering a tram into your soul!
Green!
so solid with these monochromatic
peoples are ****-smear skin, brown irises...
raven hair...
once upon a time the ugly head
of a ginger Pakistani beard...
some other beside the ***** Khan...
some blue-eyed of Afghanistan not sacrificed
like some Albino demon of...
whatever is to be leftover from Africa...

- カラカン (KARAKAN) it's hardly a racial slur...
did i insinuate ******* lemons for the proper
squint of the eyes?
the Japanese can reach a suntan status...
they're also very eager to showcase themselves
ski-jumping with the Europeans...
it's not a racial-slur... it's a slur of HEIGHT...
****** shogun! oi oi!
the man who demanded the building
of a pyramid... the greatest - ahem... joke -
of a celebration of life:
made it crystal clear:
build me a monument to celebrate my death!

i agree... it's not as well fathomable as the Korean
method...
the man behind Hangul... Sejong...
thank god he lived and died so close
to his existence not being undermined:
let's assume Abraham invented the Hebrew sprach...
the Cimmerian Sibyl: Carmenta
of all that's Latin? disguise as English:
now?

oh sure... patriarchy... more wine! more wine!
i need to find sleep!
to hell with the architecture of dreams!
i need to find sleep!

look here: a pseudo su doku
of the disappearing vowel:
the appearing consonant in the schematic of katakana:

カア
            ラア
                           カア
                                           ン

imagine rewriting these syllables as:
suffixes... vowel first...
hence? it's limited... phonetically...
perhaps for some... scarce fetish for exploring
hieroglyphs...
emoticons...
or what Vilhelm Thomsen made of
the Orkhon runes...
out of Africa... beside the hieroglyphs of
owl foster son of river flow...
perhaps the spectacle of ape came out of Africa...
but sure as **** the writing didn't...
the writing came out of India...

Africa can give up her grinding of the fringe...
i'm looking for skeletons:
who can't forget the spices
and the skeletons of writing excavated
from the blue Indians -
the smoky bomb that was forever
the black cardamom... who?
some Halved-African fudge-packaged
fufu?
the **** abhor the Chinese...
the English hate the Germans...
i'm a ****** that abhors fellow Polacks
in the diaspora of Polacks...

Darwinism is great: up to and including
a concern / conceptualising history...
**** similis was well known...
the ancients of Rome acknowledged
the blatant similarity...
of man's descent from ape...
but none would ever tease it as:
somehow a "shortcoming":

pierdolony karakan: azjatycki!
here's my racial slur against the Japanese...
keep them sedated: islander quirks...
Tokyo juicy...
it's not ******* lemons squint of
the eye... it's their ******* samurai height...
you know... you can write white as:
wite... right... whyte..
lite... wha-cradle...
bring on the peddle... later: latest of all:
the stool...

islanders: *** or Eng- alike!
their ******* diet of... fish...
crustaceans: in the houses of parliament
the topic is leveraged surrounding:
can humans feel... apathy?
if snails are being debated convening
their experience of pain:
no tiger would ever **** me for pleasure:
no lion would ever **** me or keep
be tortured: for sadistic ulterior avenues
of expression...
next thing you know:
i'll be bargaining with a foreign
entity of a parasite's worth...
than... convene a human: who's man?

how we have become almost claustrophobic...
disorientated within the provided confines
of ourselves...

i once imagined myself talking FOR these "people":
   oh god...  had some more aplenty prepositional
jargon to work with...
i ended up "talking" WITH these "people":
democratically viable...
i go my way... they go their own way...
almost everyone is satisfied...

to fear the old gods in a h. p. Lovecraftian sense...
who needs any supposition of love
when the emblem of said, "supposed" love
is being nailed to a ******* cross?
only a a Greek might...
but where's the Hebrew in the entirety of
the stated equation to undermine the Roman
Empire?
scuttling like the ******* rat her better be!

of a people that have been so undernourished
that... the ******* guillotine might miss their
necks! karakany: plural of karakan...
Mateuš Conrad Feb 2018
you've never experienced hell,
if you haven't sat through it,
unless standing,
        muddied foot,
            soaking rifle,
              all because some serb
shot, the franz, the ferdinand,
the kneeling austro-hungarian
alliance...
                tod hat ein atem...
           name me the three
witches of Hamlet...
                  i can name you one
i can name one for you...
                   horpyna...
                a dog barks,
a son falls to his death in
a bike accident...
                  one now prays
for a worthwhile attendence
to encompass mourners...
                  circling,
            *****-pyna..
           or -pýna(h)
                          otherwise...
are we all actually
                              literate?
         are you sure?
i'm not so sure...
                   but i find the ones
who are not so literate
to be soft cuddly avatars of
   panda...
                    dried out U
in the centaur vision of bow,
and arrow: V...
                    death doesn't hunt,
death, stalks...
          tod tut nicht jagd,
                    tod stengel...
            otherwise known as:
                             schnüffelngriff...
mein schnout...
                      brigadier hooond over 'ere
made a perfect
                      Peckham accent...
      hiding the H
    really allowed the yew...
to sprout...
               tender living beast,
what will you do without
this ukrainian witch
           believed to be a 6ft man?
               point being...
how do you actually hollow out
the Y in hush on a leash,
                          beginning with eng-?
surf the big or little dipper
sort of phrase...
                             how?!
not once did, hail zeus!
         mention this tetragrammaton
construct!
                   je sui(s),
                            hail zeus!
and the son of?
                    thitch quang duke?
you know, that burning monk...
           no point mentioning
anyone post-script
               malcolm browne...
now...
     smoking pieces of salmon flesh
is fine by me,
        but doing
the same to, whiskey?!
                shim-shimeney
shim-shim: **** surreal...
                        mary *******
poppins dropped in on this antic
and, herself asked,
       stop this ****** perfume
crafting;
              well, that really wasn't
a question,
      but neither was 1950s
experiment with cinematic
    application
of technicolour,
      notably: ooh...
           glocke, buch und kerze
      (bell, book and candle)
       nineteen... fifty... eight...
    or as otherwise stated:
           god, hates, the lords, of salem...
   never spent an hour
with a bulgarian ******* then,
i gather?
                then you probably don't
know,
               what the madonna-*****
complex is...
             point being:
     i know what a flacid,
           compared to an ***** phallus is.

— The End —