"koko" poems
Iboboto ko nang matuwid
Para sa asensong walang patid
Buong Team PNoy – sa senado ko ihahatid
Sonny Angara – hatid niya ang solusyon
Para sa atin, trabaho’t edukasyon
Bam Aquino – nasa dugo ang katapangan
Marangal, malinis na pangalan
A.P. Cayetano – Presyo, Trabaho at Kita
Ibabalanse niya
Chiz Escudero – subok na sa senado
Kabataan ay hindi mabibigo
Risa Hontiveros – tayo’y ipaglalaban
Ayaw niya sa korapsyon at katiwalian
Loren Legarda – marami nang nagawa
Bida sa kanya ang masa
Jamby Madrigal – kakampi ang mahirap
Galit sa korap
Ramon Magsaysay, Jr. – isa ring kampeon ng masa
Katulad ng kanyang ama
Grace Poe – magalang at maaasahan
Sagot siya sa kahirapan
Koko Pimentel – ayaw sa madaya
Katiwalian ay susugpuin niya
A. Trillanes – produktibo sa senado
Marami nang nagawang batas ito
Cynthia Villar – ang Mrs. Hanepbuhay
Siya ang ating kaagapay
Dadalhin ko sa senado
Mga pambato ng pangulo
Dahil kailangan sila ng mga Pilipino.
-05/12/2013
(Dumarao)
*My Yellow Poems Collection…written on the day before the Elections
Sep 14, 2019
Sep 14, 2019 at 9:35 PM UTC
the place I belong
is submerged in your essence;
found and deep within
Jul 21, 2018
Jul 21, 2018 at 10:18 PM UTC
N'chosi bashana co tyu raitiko
Sa lawa K'foga to yasho m'koko
A'wari Manala potesy sko'ma
N'gesi, Nigosi, Namasi choma
Amali tokr'rme dun'krenksi gawet
Dol'trenti moraki alkanti un'get
To yasho potesy salaka colo
N'chosi sa lawa n'gesi d'yro
Know what I'm saying?
Mar 7, 2014
Mar 7, 2014 at 7:44 AM UTC
It is pleasant and tasty.
It is bright and cheerful,
The children are blameless.
for the reason that they drink it.
Because their world is virtuous,
Ever since it was green and polite,
It is bright and blue.
So, the morning is flawless.
For sure, today's weather is good.
because the children are drinking "Koko."
And they eat so copiously of Kosai,
Their mouths feel the sweetest,
Their ears stood up straight.
Their bodies are boogying,
They dance well, twirling.
Because of the tasty taste of Koko,
And this was boiled so freshly,
In Safana's Poetry Kitchen,
For children, drink it hot.
It is really good.
It is really tasty.
Children, remember spring,
The millet is harvested.
Children, remember summer,
The corn is harvested.
Go to the farm and cut the crop.
It is a good thing in the morning,
for grannies to mix a porridge
A corn and millet porridge
and is an aroma in a pleasant atmosphere.
Children, let's dance and dance,
Because Koko is delicious,
And Kosai is also delicious.
Mar 23, 2023
Mar 23, 2023 at 9:59 AM UTC
angora fur
calico coat
regal and aloof
we thought you stupid
'till Xander came along
rarely jumping
never running
lazy Koko-kitty
loving
but only on the water bed
never on mine
a traditional cat
with an almost Persian face
and the most adorable mew
the mommy of the cats
but never a mother
or an aunt
adopted from the shelter
no longer feral
and healthy as a horse
Feb 11, 2010
Feb 11, 2010 at 11:06 AM UTC
Born in a remote village somewhere in the North
Yaro
Where the fulanli herdsmen twirl sticks as they guard cattles
Yaro
Makes one remember that boy in the bible who tended to his father's sheep all day
Yaro
Life was rosy, bed warm and cosy.
Mother was called "Mama" and age stricken father was "abba".
I sometimes wondered who matchmaked them
Mother looked like she was babysitting the world
Father looked like he was going to die any minute
But they loved me and that was all my infant mind wanted
For you see I was nothing but a
Yaro.
I loved the mornings, when goats where being let out of sheds
And I ran around the huts in our compounds
In between my father's leg and over my mother's lap
Bowls of koko and ***** of kosai couldn't quieten me.
I never knew your breakfast of "Kellogs varieties" or
One apple a day, to keep the doctor at bay.
For you see I was nothing but a
Yaro.
But I was alright or so I thought.
The afternoons were spent chasing Hassan and Hussein
Those "wicked" twins who would not allow our chickens rest
My world was coloured brown, brown goats, brown huts
Brown sand, brown faces and maybe brown hearts.
Brown was the only colour in the world except of course
The sky, which was blue sometimes and white at other times.
One day, when you were still in homes covered with zinc
Father pulled me out of bed and handed me over to some fierce looking men
Mother wouldn't look at me, Hassan and Hussein stood far away.
Father was the one holding me so I knew he was not dead yet.
He handed me my new pair of slippers and pointed to the men
"They'll teach you life," he said.
"But.." I replied only to be cut short by the sting of a slap
"You're nothing but a..."
"Yaro", I replied.
So this was it..I was leaving me behind.
Mother hid behind her layers of clothing like a coward
Father stood proud like an English man
I stood with all of them around me feeling nothing
But what my Yaro mind allowed me to feel.
Feb 18, 2016
Feb 18, 2016 at 4:42 AM UTC
ihminen on omalle minälleen susi
ja jos ajatukselle antaa pikkusormen
se todellakin vie koko kehon
eikä sitä paranna kymmenen haukkua tai sata kehua
jos itse huutaa lakkaamatta niiden päälle
rakentaa perusteet juoksuhiekkaan
tekee turvapaikan jostakin kovin petollisesta
muiden huomaamatta tai kirkkain silmin valehdellen
kusettaa kuitenkin vain itseään
onhan sen pakko vaikuttaa jokaiseen elämän osa-alueeseen
tuosta noin vain, kertaheitolla
jos vain olet tuosta vähän kapeampi
tuosta hieman kevyempi
linnunluinen ja teräväpolvinen
mittasuhteet vääristyvät mittoja tuijottamalla
ravaamalla asuntonsa portaita ylös alas ylös
se vaati uhrauksia
mutta kyllä ne kaikki luvut muistaa ulkoa
taulukot ja tuoteselosteet, edelleen
vihreää teetä ja laksatiiveja
sitten vielä kerran
mutta onni onnettomuudessa;
fyysistä itseään on mahdoton lähteä karkuun
voit juosta maailman ääriin asti
ja silti perille päästyäsi
olet edelleen sinä, omissa nahoissasi
mieltä, ihoa, sisuskaluja myöten
keho kestää uskomattomia asioita
kestää läpi avannon pintajään ja lapsuuden vesirokon
tervan ja vatsalaukkua polttavan putken
loppumattomien lihassärkyjen
viikkotolkulla lavuaarin yllä kakomisen
aina vain kasvattaen arpea ruhjeisiin
haalistaen verenpurkaumat
jotta voisit juosta, tanssia, naida
kiivetä vuorille tai vaikka hitto soikoon puuhun
ei se siitä sen kummemmaksi muutu
vaikka sinua olisi olemassa
kolmasosan vähemmän
Jun 8, 2016
Jun 8, 2016 at 4:28 PM UTC
Hey baby girl, I love you. I love you but stop. Stop acting like you've seen the world when everything you've experienced has been through rose tinted glasses. You know they're gonna smash one day. They're gonna smash and you're gonna be hit with reality but hey, hey pretty baby, I'll still love you. Hey sweets, hey sugar, hey spice. I know your glasses broke but you don't need to smash those bottles anymore. I'll still love you when the lights go out. I love your lips in Koko K and your high necks and your slender frame. Hey pretty baby, remember that dress your Mumma once described as a 'second skin'? Hey, remember the night we drove and drove and drove and stopped at sunrise? Remember the sound of the ocean inside your head? Remember the birds and the trees and the sand and the children screaming and the happy times? Remember asking for my number? Remember saying goodbye? Remember leaning in for the first kiss? Remember the daisies? Remember the shooting stars and the golden mornings? Remember? Hey pretty baby, it's okay if you don't want to remember anymore. I'm still sorry your glasses broke.
Jul 26, 2016
Jul 26, 2016 at 7:52 PM UTC
Pouta oli lientynyt harmaaksi liejuksi ojanpohjille ja taivas ryöpytti vettä kaksi harmaata viikkoa putkeen
Ripustin matot kuivumaan parvekkeelle tuolien selkänojille mutta mun pesukone taisi olla jotenkin rikki kun ne kastelivat lattian likomäräksi yön aikana
Vähän niin kuin skidinä kun halusin täyttää koko pesuhuoneen vedellä ja ihmettelin kun vanhemmat ei antaneet
Eikä nuo olleet mitään takaumia siitä kun mut pistettiin soittamaan hätänumeroon kun ne halusivat työnnellä toisiaan portaista alas
Musta olisi vaan ollut tosi kätevää jos meillä olisi aina ollut uimahalli käytettävissä
Jul 11, 2016
Jul 11, 2016 at 2:37 PM UTC
punertavien valojen liukuessa
yläpuolellamme, vartaloillamme
hämärtäen kaiken muun ympäriltä
heilautat hiuksiasi puolelta toiselle
hampaasi välähtävät hymyillessä
kuin leijona
valmiina hyökkäämään
yleensä puraiset jos joku tulee liian lähelle
mutta silloin halusit minun
istuvan kasvoillesi koko painollani
ja olit jotenkin niin
lähellä, elossa, konkreettinen
että paloin halusta lipsauttaa
kuinka saatan olla rakast
Apr 25, 2016
Apr 25, 2016 at 12:45 PM UTC
On our terms, through our eyes,
For us to realise
The gorilla on camera,
Signalling and signing the scripted message, knows not what she speaks,
But anticipates the treats.
We see not the eyes, if the tongue is not in our ears.
As a result, they let loose their
scythes
on the wide-eyed plants in Oz before the 1960s.
They believed the pottery were their own lost property,
Until they realised the kilns were the same in Bechuanaland.
Someday, such museum specimens, can be translated.
Allowing our selfish eyes,
To X-ray through such veils.
I would never wish it on anyone,
But I ache to see through your eyes
The person who smiles
In the age of the internet’s pythonesque wonderland,
Seeing the joke of the world, but remaining in hysterics.
In the corner of the class,
I get hints of this friends other side,
An impossible voyage for all foreigners there.
To see tinted in such pain
Just to try and understand,
To somehow
help.
Aug 14, 2018
Aug 14, 2018 at 8:14 AM UTC
once extinct in wild
Guam's territorial bird
Guam rail called koko
Jul 4, 2021
Jul 4, 2021 at 1:03 PM UTC
Wuxing Category: Wood (木)
1-02
Dew glistens, hibiscus blooms,
Sun peeks high, Koko's crest.
Shadows fade, Hanauma's calm,
Ocean sighs, tides gently roll.
Brown hair unbound, a steady sound,
Sun shimmers, on her sleeping face.
Chest rises, falls, in gentle sleep,
Hibiscus adorns, a tranquil scene.
A gentle breath, a moment's peace,
___Hibiscus Heartbeat___ fills the air.
A soft drumbeat, deep within,
Tranquility, a love so fair.
The drum quickens, a thunderous sound,
A sign, a gesture, in slumber deep.
Yet she remains, in peaceful rest,
A longing touch, the heart will keep.
Ear turned, a gesture, a beat divine,
Hand reaches out, a soft caress.
Hand meets hand, a connection found,
Beat so strong, a silent song.
Heavy heart beats, a morning's grace,
Love's pure touch, a heart embraced.
Slumber deep, a dream unfolds,
Connection flows, a story told.
The deafening beat, she cannot hear,
But feels the touch, a blissful sign.
She feels the beat, so strong and near,
___Hibiscus Heartbeat___, love's design.
A serenade, in morning's light,
Longing for love, to come her way.
Two hearts entwined, in gentle might,
A love so pure, where dreams hold sway.
Mar 8, 2025
Mar 8, 2025 at 11:09 PM UTC
No stress forget those fools because we got our cigarettes kokos and juuls
The nicotine makes my brain less mean
Frantically searching for my Juul while you call me a fiend
Got your koko in your hand because your an organized man
**** it lets get me some smokes
They taste so good but they make me choke
Mar 26, 2021
Mar 26, 2021 at 8:49 PM UTC