Atul Nov 2015
All such stuff is only a myth, right?
Why else would women be forsaken?
Is having periods a grave sin, really?

Their God is just a fantasy, right?
Why else will God forsake Its kids?
The real God is sleeping, isn't It??

God could be a female too, right?
Why assign a gender to God then?
Is God so weak, kidding right???
Read about some ridiculous places of worship recently.

My HP Poem #923
©Atul Kaushal
Sy Lilang Apr 2015
Anak:
"Ika'y Tulang muli't muli'y binabasa ng madla,
Na 'di makalilimutan; na binabaon sa alaala
Tulang puno ng damdamin na ni nais ipabatid
At ang saknong ng pag-ibig Mo'y,
Siyang tutugma sa puso kong minsa'y naging sugatan."

Ama:
"Minsang ibinigay ko sa iyo ang pagkakataong
Unawain ang kahulugan ng kamusmusan.
Sa lupaing ugat ng iyong kaluluwa't
Siyang kanlungan ng mga pangako Ko't
Mga pangarap na laan sayo.
Bumangon ka, Anak
Ako ang Siyang sasagwan
Ako ang aabot sayo."

Anak:
"Sabay nating kinatha ang tula ng aking buhay;
Mga saknong at tugma na sarikulay,
Mga katagang baun-baon ko
Sa malayu-layong paglalakbay."

Ama:
"Pagal ka ma'y,
Nanahan pa rin sa puso ng bawat isa,
Di mo man tiyak ang katiyakan, natitiyak Ko
Na ang pag-ibig Ko'y, kailanma'y di ka iiwan.
Anak, hanggang sa huling tapon ng lupa
At huling tapon ng luha,
Hanggang sa huling liwanag
Ng itutulos mong kandila,
Hanggang sa huling pagpagpag mo
Ng sar't saring pangungulila,
Patuloy Kitang mamahalin,
Anuman ang mangyari."

Anak:
*
"Singbigat ng katotohanan
At ng pangarap na mala-kalawakan,
Ito ang huling handog ng makata mong anak:
Ang mabatid kong Ikaw ang buhay na eternal
At ako'y isang kathang Ikaw ang tinitingala --
Ikaw ang dinadakila.
Ama, ako'y malaya
Ikaw ang buhay, Ikaw ang agos
Ikaw ang tagumpay;
Gisingin Mo ang diwa
Ang bugso at alab ng damdaming hilaw
Ikaw ang masundan
Nang maihain nang patas
Ang pag-ibig Mong umaapaw."

#041215 ‪
Convo namin ni Lord
Kara Ashley Jan 2015
Beauty doesn't mean
Pretty eyes
Gettin all the guys
Clear skin
Stick thin
Everyone.
Everything..
Has beauty
Beauty is skin deep
The phrase is so cliche, yet so true
Ignored by the ones who need it
Beautiful soul
Beautiful heart
Beautiful personality
That is the beauty in us
God sees our true beauty, even if it's hidden from the world
You can go through with a false understanding of the word,
Or...
You can choose to see the beauty that God has put into each and every one of our lives.
The beauty of potential
Beauty is a choice
Not a fact.
when god lets my body be

from each brave eye shall sprout a tree
fruit that dangles therefrom

the purpled world will dance upon
between my lips which did sing

a rose shall beget the spring
that maidens whom passion wastes

will lay between their little breasts
my strong fingers beneath the snow

into strenuous birds shall go
my love walking in the grass

their wings will touch with her face
and all the while shall my heart be
with the bulge and nuzzle of the sea
Chansee Williams Apr 2015
i purposley make myself think of you at night ..
So you can end up dreaming of me
Because they say if you dream of someone they were thinking of you.
So if you cannot believe i think of you
I hope those dreams of me
Give you the signs .
-goodnight
M G Hsieh May 2016
Munting hiram na buhay,                             When will this rented
kelan pa yayaon?                                            lifetime pass?
Pina-walang kabuluhan                                Time has taken  
ang oras na lumipas.                                      the sense of things.
Panahon na sinaksi                                         I have witnessed
pawang di akin sarili.                                    what is not mine.

Kelan ang katapusan?                                    When will this end?
Sa oras ng pagtanggap                                   In accepting
ng tinig mo? Irog,                                            your voice? My dear,
ika'y aking kamatayan.                                   you are my death.

Ano ang pinangakong                                    Where is
payapa at galak,                                               peace and joy
kung puso'y sumisikap                                   if the heart still toils
sa inaasahang pangarap?                                towards it's endeavors?

Kelan mabubuksan                                          When will I unlock
ang pagkakataon ng pangakong                    the promise
ligaya mula sa kamay mo?                              from your hands?
Di pa sapat ang pagsunod?                             Is compliance not enough?

Asan na ang hinanap pangarap na ligaya,      Where is happiness
mula sa pawis, pagnanasa?                               sought with sweat and desire
Gawin ang lahat                                                  of risking all                
sa anumang konsekwnsya?                               no matter what?

Sino ako? Taong                                               Who am I? so presumptive
mapangahas sa sariling kalooban,                 of my own will,
ligaw sa ilang,                                                   lost in the wild,
lasing sa layaw,                                                  drunk for indulgence,
lulon sa kadiliman at kawalan.                        drowned into its depths.

ano ako sa Yo?                                                   what am i to You?
yapak.                                                      ­           footprints.
alabok.                                              ­                  dust.
pinag-duraang basura ng lansangan.            garbage spit in the street.

Ginawa mo aking kapalaran,                           You made me thus,
palayok at pinggan.                                           as a clay pot.
Sa yong kagustuhan                                          Transformed and used
tadhanang pupuntahan.                                    for what you forge.

Aking tanggap                                                    I accept
kawalan ng karapatan,                                      lost of rights,
pagsuko ng kalayaan,                                       surrendered freedom,
layag sa kagustuhan,                                         adrift from wants,

yaong kababaan.                                                and lowly.
Paglisan ng sarili, bihag                                    when i abandon myself, as Your
at lingkod mo,                                                      captive and servant
nawa'y malaya sa mundo.                                  may i be free of this world.
Marinela Marie Nov 2012
Dear God, whoever, whatever, wherever you are- can you see me?

Can you see the terror in my eyes?
This day I wakened gripped in fear.
Can you see me behind the lies?
False is my smile, real is my tear

That trails my cheek the stain remains
The mask each day I don at morn
No soul beholds the blinding pain
For not shall I allow one's scorn

Dear God can you hear me?

My screams are stifled by the sound
Of winds I turn to carry me
Away from dismal strife abound
I turn my back one step to flee

When I speak, my voice not mine
Tis what you wish that you will hear
That life is good and all is fine
Expression when my soul can't bear

Soliloquy for me alone
With words that bring me to my knees
I shake with chill deep to the bone
Despair I pray that no one sees

Dear God, can you feel me?

I know my heart beats within
Yet how I wish that it would cease
Perhaps no longer that I shall sin
And finally gain a sense of peace

I wish to hate you for you have made me
Look how I've grown with this weak shell
Assembled pieces faithlessly
The cracks run deep, dear God, pray tell

Can you see my tears and hear my cries?
Or feel the knife plunged deep within
My heart, my soul, my mind defies
Hope, joy, and love, my harshest sin

Are you there, my God, or no!
Why have you made me thus?
Alas, no one shall know my woe
To will my body back to dust

Tis all my own, this place I made
No one to blame only myself
Goodbye, farewell and so I bade
Sorrow, oh flame! My life engulf!
JR Rhine Jan 2017
I broke up with God
at our favorite eatery
in our favorite booth.

We settled into familiar creases
and asked for the usual.

My eyes lazily staring at fingers
stirring the straw around the ice cubes,
God cautiously spoke up:

“Is something wrong?”

“Nothing.” (Thinking about the dormant phone
concealing behind the lock screen
the open Facebook tab
lingering over the relationship status section.)

They silently mused over the laconic reply,
til the waitress showed up with the food.

“Thank you!” God blurted with agonizing alacrity.

I received the sustenance lifelessly
and aimlessly poked at the burgers and fries.

The waitress eyed me with vague inquisition,
popping a bubble in the gum between
big teeth, refilled my water
and pirouetted hastily.

We ate in ostensible harmony,
the silence gripping like a chokehold,
the visible anxiety and subdued resolve
settling like a stifling blanket
over the child waking
from a nightmare—

Til we couldn’t breathe,
and I ripped back the covers
and looked into the eyes
of my tormentor.

“It’s not you, it’s me.”

God, taken aback by the curt statement,
dropped their burger with shaking hands,
silently begging with wetting eyes
a greater explanation.

So I elaborated:

“It’s not you, it’s me.

For your immaculate conception
was created by human hands,

your adages rendered obsolete
by human words,

your purpose and plan for us
distorted by human nature—

I cannot hate myself any longer.

I cannot pretend to know you at all.

Who my mother and father say you are
is not who my friends think you are,
nor my teachers, my pastor,
the president, Stephen Hawking,
Muhammed, the KKK, Buddha,
the Westboro Baptist Church,
Walt Whitman, Derek Zanetti,
Hitler,
and Billy Graham.

I am told you care who I bring into bed (and when),
and what movies I watch,
and what music I listen to—

I have not heard what you say about
child soldiers, the use of mosquitos,
or the increased destruction of the earth
which you proudly proclaimed your creation,
or the poverty and disease and famine
which has ridden so many of your children—”

God interjected,
“But you’re chosen!”

I snorted,

“You say I’m chosen
to spend eternity with you—
why me?

Why’d you pick me among
thousands, millions, billions?

I’ve been told I’m ‘chosen’
since birth
by others like me—

those with fair complexion,
blue eyes,
blonde hair,
a firm overt sexual attraction towards women,
and a great big house
with immaculate white fences
delineating their Jericho.

I’ve already fabricated eternity
here among the other ‘chosen’
and there is a world of suffering
right outside the fence
and I see them
through the window of my bedroom
every day.

Am I chosen,
if I don’t vote Republican

Am I chosen
if I am Pro-Choice

Am I chosen
if I cohabitate with my girlfriend

Am I chosen
if I never have kids

Am I chosen
if I say ‘Happy Holidays’

Am I chosen
if I don’t want public prayer in schools

Am I chosen
if I don’t want a Christian nation

Am I chosen
if I don’t repost you on my wall
or retweet your adages?

I’m tired
being the ubermensch,
for it has not brought me
happiness
and I blame you.

I will not ignore
the cries of the suffering
believing it is I
who is destined to live
in bliss.

I will not buy
Joel Osteen’s autobiography(ies).

I will not tithe
you my money
for a megachurch
when another homeless shelter
closes down.

I will not tell a woman
what to do with her body,
or a man
that he is a man
if they say they are not.

I am neither Jew nor Gentile,
and I will stand with
my brothers and sisters
of Faith and Faithlessness,

Gay and Straight,
Black and White,

and apart from these extremes
free from absolutes
the ambiguous, amorphous
nature of Humankind
which I praise.

There is much pain and suffering
in this world,
potentially preventable,
but hardly can I believe
it’s part of your plan
to save
me.

I will not be saved
if we are not
all saved—

not one will burn
for my divinity.

The gates will be open to all—
and perhaps you believe that too,
but I’ve gotten you all wrong
and that cannot change,
as long as there is
mortality, and
corruption, and
power, and
lust, and
greed.”

God whined, growing bellicose,

“It is through me that you will find eternity,
I am the one true god!
I am the God of your fallen ancestors,
it is because you have fallen short
that you need me!”

I replied, growing in confidence,

“We have all fallen short,
yes,
but we are also magnificent.

We have evolved,
we have created,
we have adapted,
we have survived.

We have built empires,
and we have destroyed them.

We have cured diseases,
and we have created them.

We have done much in your name.
We’ve done good,
and we’ve done evil—

And unfortunately it’s all about
who you ask.

Your name is a burden on the oppressed
and a weapon of the oppressor.

You are abusive, God.

You tell me you are jealous.

You tell me apart from you I will suffer for an eternity.

I’m scared to die, yet want to die,
because of you.

You have made life a waiting room
that is now my purgatory. It is

Hell On Earth.

So you see,
it’s not you,
it’s me—
a mere mortal
who has tried to put a face
to eternity
and it has left me
empty.

And also,
it’s me,
for I have learned to love me,
as I have expelled your self-loathing imbibition,
and the deleterious zeal
I have proclaimed
through ceaseless
trepidation
and self-flagellation—

I have learned to love me
by realizing I am not inherently evil,
that my body is not evil,
that my mind is not evil,
and, ultimately, that
there is no good
and there is no evil.

My body is beautiful,
my mind is beautiful,
this world is beautiful,
and we are destroying it
waiting for you to claim
us.

I leave you
in hopes to see you
again one day,

and perhaps you will look
different than I have
perceived or imagined,

and in fact
I certainly hope so.”

Just then the waitress strolled back up
with a servile smile:
“Dessert?”

“No, thank you,”
I smiled politely.

And with that,
I paid the check,
and took a to-go box—

walked out into the evening rain
to my car,
put on a secular song
that meant something real to me
and drove off
into the night—

feeling for the first time
free
and alive.
Micah Fagre Sep 2014
The banana is an inside joke
from God
It is His calling card
And you can call home
if you would hold it to your ear
and speak directly to Him
Just kidding
Bananas are for the belly

He would have used perforated edges
but naysayers would be in an uproar
"How could your God think us so stupid!"
For they always imagine
that God reflects their own stupidity
And the atheist too
would have a fit
and a slew
of jokes about how the real evidence of God
has banana split

But just like little children know
mother puts the best food in the lunchbox
Humble believers can tell you
good loving means good grubbing
on the inside of the banana peel
And that's real
The complexity of something simple in appearance. the attractiveness of something true in its deepest form. Beauty.

*-Bobbie Leigh
Zach Abler May 2014
Oh why am I still hurting
Isn't it past the hour of pain?
Hell is only temporary
Til He rids you of all shame!

I stepped into  Your room
Try to relive Your relieving
To rid me of my gloom
Try to receive Your revealing

Jealous the jealous God
I seek restless for Your love
Mine eyes grow tired and weary
Jealous the jealous God

Jealous the jealous God
I drown helpless in Your flood
I thirst scarcely for Your mercy
Jealous the jealous God

Why is the world so empty
Yet weighs millions o' pounds?
Where lies pile up aplenty
To keep the lost from being found

Why is deception
Like form of education
Setting false foundations
Corrupting His creation
As lies disguise damnation
For a paper-clad salvation
Sending ill vibrations
To the youth of all the nations

I wonder how much am I missing, o God?
A wonder even the universe cannot contain
Translated and made compatible in a human's brain.
Soulless animals kiss the land
In honor of the One
Who was, who is and is to come
Who dares their doubt expand
In disbelief blot out the sun
Jealous the jealous God
Soulless animals indeed we have become
Written for 'Or Are We?' after co-founder and the act's former guitarist James David Pedida moved to Dumaguete City and Ullrich Lariosa replaced him.
Sy Lilang Feb 2015
To love Jesus is to long with Him
But that longing is not enough
There is a need
To structure our lives
Around spending time with Him.

To desire also means to be disciplined
And then, we found ourselves
Delighting in the Lord.
It captures the essence
Of what it takes
To develop a consistent devotional life.

You can be motivated with great desire,
But without discipline
You will never get there
Discipline positions us
To receive grace;
Discipline is not grace
It is the *submission of our heart

To encounter the grace of God.

It is not about whether God loves us —
His love is sure
Whether we are disciplined or not —
But it is our wholehearted response
To Him that allows us to find Him.

One must delight in the Lord
And shear every misfitting
And *earthly delights.
“It shall come to pass in the latter days that the mountain of the house of the Lord shall be established as the highest of the mountains, and shall be lifted up above the hills; and all the nations shall flow to it, and many people shall come and say: “Come let us go up to the mountain of the Lord, to the house of Jacob, that he may teach us his ways and that we may walk in his paths,” For out of Zion shall go the law and the word of the Lord from Jerusalem.” – Isaiah 2:2-3 (ESV)
mvvenkataraman Feb 2015
Don't lose your confidence
Never distrust Providence
Remove your ignorance
Accumulate tolerance

Patience is a must
Your mind, you dust
Body mustn't rust
Always be honest

Hopefully you live
In God, ever believe
The best, you give
Better to forgive

Choose the right path
To toil, take an oath
God and hope, trust both
Don't die like a brittle moth

God-faith helps thrive
As He makes us survive
Our belief, He does revive
He helps peace to be alive

Take efforts and await
After showing your might
Being happy is right
As joy, you can sight

True efforts never die
They appeal to the Sky
God keeps His eye
Upon those who try

Good luck my dear
Pursue without fear
If hard-work is here
No place for tear

mvvenkataraman
We must hope and live, The best to all, we must give, When we live with joy and mirth, We make Heaven out of this Earth.
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