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Kevin V Razalan May 2020
Walang labis, walang kulang,
Kung magliyab ang pluma kong laging natatakam,
Mga salitang lilikhain nito'y namumutiktik sa sabik,
Malinggal ang dila, nagagalak kung maghasik.

Madalas ay parang lantang gulay,
Kung gumuhit ng salita ay matamlay,
'Di matuka ng uwak kung ialay,
Minsa'y kulang-palad kung panlasa'y 'di bagay.

Sa tuwing hahampas ang higanteng salot,
Rubdob ng damdamin ay mapusok,
Tatamuhing sugat ay balon na 'di maabot,
Pilat ay siyang mararanasan, patawad ko'y suntok sa usok.

Minsan nama'y isang mapagtangis,
Ulan sa ulop katumbas ay luhang hitik kaysa pawis,
Ipapatalos sa huwad **** puso ang nalasap na pait at sakit,
Sa pluma ko'y tutungayawin ka't isasakdal sa piitan ng malasahan mo rin ang pait.

Hindi na sapat ang galak na malalasap,
Gayong panulat at puso'y nakaranas ng dusa at alat,
Naglahong bula ang hiwaga nitong kaibuturan ng pusong marilag,
Sa pinta mo'y nagmistulang kahabag-habag.

Umpisahan mo ng pumikit, ng mahagilap mo rin ang sinapit,
Madalas man akong matinik , sayo'y hindi na iimik,
Nitong plumang binuling at pinatulis ko sa inani ko sa'yo,
Ngayo'y kakikintalan mo ng hayag na masakit ngunit pawang totoo.

✍: pensword
Roninia Guardian Aug 2020
Siyam na buwan ng nakakaraan
Simula ng ako'y makipagsapalaran
Sumabak sa giyerang utak ang panlaban
Kaagapay ang puso bilang puhunan

Sa simula tila mahirap at imposible
Ngunit kalauna'y unti-unting naging simple
Naipamalas pagiging maagap at responsable
At nagsilbing magandang imahe

Unang karanasa'y hindi biro
Pagka't iba't-ibang bata nakakahalubilo
Idagdag pa ang asignaturang malayo;
malayo sa pinagaralang apat na taong 'di biro

Araw-araw pumapasok para magturo
Gabi-gabi inaaral ang makapal na libro
Upang kinabukasa'y maibahagi ito
Sa mga batang uhaw sa pagkatuto

Ngunit sadyang tadhana'y mapaglaro
Pagkat sinubok aking pagiging ****
Sinukat haba ng pasensiya ko
Kung ako ba'y magtatagal sa propesyong ito

Iba't-ibang ugali aking tiniis
Makamtan ko lang ang aking nais
Landas ng mga bata'y 'di malihis
Patungo sa kanilang mithiing ninanais

Kaya naman ngayong tapos na aking tungkulin
Hiling ko lamang sila'y may natutunan sa'kin
Kahit ako'y hindi na alalahanin
Ang mahalaga'y may inani sila mula sa'kin.
Påłpëbŕå Oct 2020
Writers are illusionists,
For they create imagery;
Imprisoned in their minds,
While setting the whole world free.

Writers are heros,
For they have superpowers;
Walking for miles before they sleep,
Only to shine like insomniac stars.

Writers are clowns,
For they can make you laugh;
Humouring you through their ironies,
Unveiling only their happy half.

Writers are divine,
For they can give life;
To the sun & the sea & the shore,
Calming and soothing all your strife!

Writers are deranged,
For they find poetry in all shapes;
From needles to knives,
They talk to these inani'mates'

Writers are intense,
For they feel too much;
Like mimosa of the plant kingdom,
Writing away about the slightest of touch.

Writers are deceptive,
For they are the best liars,
Exaggerating these simple sentences,
Helping you escape your monotonous quagmires.

Writers are humble-beings,
For they always are connected to their roots;
Building wonders from mere words,
To which the whole world ends up paying tributes!
This poem is for all the people who helped me learn so so much in such less time.

Thank you all!
Bryce May 2018
I think, therefore I may be.

Maybe I think too much to be free

But the walls close faster than a revolving door
Where no man will etch my name in precious floor

Lost to the inevitable human trace
A dream actuated to another time and place

My eternal atomic informative electrostatic attraction
Bounces my life across the pulsars
in altercation
And ionizes my dreams within
this distant universe,
To return to dream and inert

Inani, Intelli, Invinci,

Omni, Alli, Tectoni,

Read the pages on the stone
Sing the whispers in the growth
The dance of time, the hand of space
the love of design, a perfect trace

Sing sing.
as loud as you can
Do not get lost in the yaup of man.

There is a special soul inside of you.
It's the trees, the bees, the seas and due

Time will come for us to know
The world will task our souls for new growth

And when our time should come to pass
I let myself dance in Dodecahedral sky

And let my atoms shine

For new eyes.

— The End —