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kiko Oct 2016
Pagpasensyahan mo na ko,
hindi ako sanay sa mga yakap at lambing
bago kita makilala, nakakahiya mang aminin
ang pagdampi ng mga labi at ang init ng mga yapos
ay alam ko lamang sa salita, sa bawat paglipat ko sa panibagong pahina ng mga aklat kong minamahal.

Mas masarap pala sa totoong buhay.
Dahil konkreto ka,
ang iyong mga mata ay hindi lamang habi ng aking kaisipan
at ang iyong mga salita ay hindi akin.

Totoo ka.
Masarap pala sa pakiramdam ang paglapat ng dalawang katawan,
dahil kahit kailan hindi ako naging komportable sa paglubog ng kama sa aking likudan
alam ko din na ayoko ng bigat ng ibang braso sa aking baywang
pero noong unang gabi na nakapatong ang ating mga ulo sa iisang unan
at ako’y tila bihag sa braso **** kulungan
Napatanong ako sa aking sarili “Ganito ba ang tahanan?”

Pero mahirap din kapag nakatikim ka ng ginhawa,
nakalimutan ko na tayo nga pala’y dalawa
at ito ay hindi lamang para sa akin.
Ang kalayaang kong pumili ay taglay mo din
Hindi mo nga pala utang ang mga sagot sa mga tanong na bumabagabag sa akin
at malaya ka.
Malaya kang tanggalin ang pagkabuhol ng ating mga daliri
Dahil hindi iisa ang ating mga kamay
at hindi din tayo iisa ng kaisipan.

Posible nga pala na magkaiba ang bilis ng daloy ng dugo at ritimo ng bawat tibok

Kaya naiintindihan ko at pagpasensyahan mo ako.
Masyado lang akong uhaw sa pagmamahal.
Sa tagal na panahon na pinagkait ko sa sarili ko,
sa pamamagitan mo, kaya ko nang tumingin sa salamin
at hindi makaramdam ng galit na sa tuwing umaga
meron pa ding hininga,
meron pa ding pagtaas at pagbaba ng dibdib.

Masarap palang huminga at ayoko lang ng tikim.
Devesh Dubey Aug 2018
I. Fasl al fasl

The Carvan has halted.
The grunting of camels.
The sand shines of moonlight.
And I remember you.
The bonfire is lit.
My kinsman have all gathered.
And yet lonely, I remember you.

I was the lonely moon,
And you the mirthful rain.
Your voice to my heart was so soothing,
And my life full of despair and pain.

II. Àl fasl min dhikraa

When I see the dancing fire,
I remember your radiant eyes.
When I drink the wine,
I remember your intoxicating words.
When I visit the perfume chamber,
I sense your presence around.

When I pick up the pen,
I remember the letters you wrote to me.
When I gaze around at the eternal sand,
I feel the emptiness of my life.

III. Àl fasl min aldaewa

I searched for you,
Through every oasis I passed.
Through every city I went to.
Through the olive groves.

I called for you,
Like man so insane.
Like the miser losing a diamond.
Like the parrot calling its mate.
Like a thirsty man crying for water.

IV. Àl fasl min alsala

Where should I go,
Whom should I pray to.
The night seems worthless,
And worthless are the days.
Tell me where should I go,
Name an abode so worthy.
For me it shall be heaven,
A chance to see you; my true salvation.
I. Fasl al fasl - Chapter of separation.
II. Àl fasl min dhikraa - Chapter of remembrance.
III. Àl fasl min aldaewa - Chapter of calling.
IV. Àl fasl min alsala - Chapter of prayer
Devesh Dubey Sep 2017
I. Fasl al fasl

The Carvan has halted.
The grunting of camels.
The sand shines of moonlight.
And I remember you.
The bonfire is lit.
My kinsman have all gathered.
And yet lonely, I remember you.

I was the lonely moon,
And you the mirthful rain.
Your voice to my heart was so soothing,
And my life full of despair and pain.

II. Àl fasl min dhikraa

When I see the dancing fire,
I remember your radiant eyes.
When I drink the wine,
I remember your intoxicating words.
When I visit the perfume chamber,
I sense your presence around.

When I pick up the pen,
I remember the letters you wrote to me.
When I gaze around at the eternal sand,
I feel the emptiness of my life.

III. Àl fasl min aldaewa

I searched for you,
Through every oasis I passed.
Through every city I went to.
Through the olive groves.

I called for you,
Like man so insane.
Like the miser losing a diamond.
Like the parrot calling its mate.
Like a thirsty man crying for water.

IV. Àl fasl min alsala

Where should I go,
Whom should I pray to.
The night seems worthless,
And worthless are the days.
Tell me where should I go,
Name an abode so worthy.
For me it shall be heaven,
A chance to see you; my true salvation.
I. Fasl al fasl - Chapter of separation.
II. Àl fasl min dhikraa - Chapter of remembrance.
III. Àl fasl min aldaewa - Chapter of calling.
IV. Àl fasl min alsala - Chapter of prayer.
Mateuš Conrad Jun 2020
cool capital
name:        WAR
SAW...

for wharever is
to be sown....

   ambition: zion...
reiteration
of the clever rat
fiddle...

dossing on:
and forever the inhibition
of the loitering
looter...

     come the desired
wake...
          boisterous
that commandz...
            umbrella: this never:
heigl

  game-walk-through sessions....
that can last through and...
thoroughly 10 hours... straight...
which would make...
gone with the wind...
and 1950s hollywood epics...
ben-hur... seem like...
losing your virginity...

because i don't game...
i like...
what i don't... squid
**** the two point quarter
even want to remember...
mario bros and sudoku is
about as complex as...
the finality spectrum
of the ******* movie...
but that's not involving
any... role-play for "real"
game and solving the cinematic
experience lobotomy of...
where's the ******* audience?
click-baiting...
i click on the keyboard...
i'm pretty ******* sure some...
squid-mush of sensation of
zombie-esque... lavendar...
is about to...
pig-snout... and snorkel...
its way out of... sana'a...
              or abu d'habi... or...
gold: the mined...
              catch-phrased sunni
wonderdrug of religiosity
chanting: because...
secular sensibility is...

when games... had the basic arithmetic
of timing...
and had no assorted likening
to mind... narration...
a game of chess was...
a game... and two engaged /
to departing parties...
not this... quasi-modo loot of...
gone with the wind = 4h worth of viewing time...
the resident evil 2 - remake...
walkthrough... 9h...
                   not even harry and harriett
potter would ask for "that" long...

such is the ontology of gaming:
i don't want to play them,
i want to watch them...
given that... the conventionality
of movies...
is... a... variation of lobotomy...
              this crude: method...
              loaded: bomb... blast...
low i.q. scrutiny and all that's...
writing?
  yeah...
"low i.q." eskimo:
brow-haven... frown...
apache... winnetou patriarch
k.o. smithy:
you are... the nick's marginal...
and opus... curtain...
and shadow and... wetted bed...
egoism...

yeah... come meet me...
100 years from now!
this... immediacy...
and now... will only...
ever loiter... and become...
apparent... somehow within
the confines...
as the majority are... swollen...
to the(ir) luxury of sleep.

— The End —