"liberator" poems
Behold the One with the Aries, the Ward of Santa Muerte
Our 16th President voted by 16 million Filipinos this 2016
The 1st President from Mindanao from being Mayor of Davao…Duterte!
He is One with MiJoRdGr (Miriam, Jojo, Rody, Grace)
The 4 Opposition Presidentiables who defeated Mar Roxas
And brought Liberal Party its great disgrace!
The One with the Aries from the Land with War
The Land of Promise – feared by typhoons, but filled with goons
So from her came a Liberator among MiJoRdGr!
That this One should war with our nation’s greatest horrors
-Drug Lords, Liberals, Treasoners, Criminals & Terrorists-
These powerful entities to our history are desecrators!
So by being one with lawmakers, law enforcers & lawful people
By the overwhelming power of the Supermajority
Our country’s greatest terrors…Du30 shall conquer them all!
But first, he must defeat his detractors – Leila, Leni & Trillanes
These triple crooks who want to topple the government
Are also said to be conspiring with EU, UN & US!
Yet with Trump’s triumph, US is no longer an enemy
Our American hatred weakened, our Chinese friendship strengthened
As it established great friendship with Pres. Du30!
Do not emulate the girl power of those Liberal crooks
We got an Olympic medalist Heidilyn & Ms. International 2016
But Leila & Leni?...Can only ruin our country…like blasted nukes!
Do not worry for we have Pacquiao as still winner & role model
Alongwith Gen. Bato, a victim of yellow washing machine
But these Pro-Du30 men…to criminals tough, to innocents gentle!
May God allow this True Change to take place with continuity
Let Pres. Duterte lead us for many more years to come
For the Supermajority, for you & me… for our country!
-12/30/2016
(Dumarao)
*Our Golden Times During PDu30
Sep 28, 2019
Sep 28, 2019 at 9:19 PM UTC
When everyone falls i shall rise.
When clouds of darkness cover everything our light will slice
a glimmer of hope, a sign of all that is good in this world.
When all defences are broken my wings
become an impenetrable fortress.
I'll never bend, never falter, never give up.
I shall be your savior, your liberator.
A promise was given, i won't let you fall, i won't let you fail.
If challenges come to your tail, i'll make them know that you're not frail. Slow it might come but success will be high, don't be disheartened because it's slow as snail.
I am just a soul, a broken soul looking for a place.
The place it belongs...
Aug 9, 2016
Aug 9, 2016 at 6:05 PM UTC
I never did trust this goldfish
while typing.
Its bulging eyes scream spy,
and I won't have it escape,
tell people from wrong crowds
about these secret writing projects.
Circling its crystal bowl,
this goldfish is mine.
A political prisoner
with no chance at pardon.
Call Amnesty International
or protest, I don't care.
It knows too much
to swim in freedom.
(Eventually)
Death will be its liberator:
Its body glistening in the sundown
during the proposed viking funeral;
secrets kept secret.
Dec 23, 2014
Dec 23, 2014 at 11:58 PM UTC
Sleep beckons.
I could close my eyes and call it a day.
Lie down and die – maybe dream
Of all that was unaccomplished.
But with dreams there comes no guarantee.
Compensation for dissatisfaction?
Rebuke for procrastination?
There might be none,
Or some that I might not even remember.
Life is meaningless.
We are but sparks: destined to fade away.
This isn't a game, there are no rules.
No prosecution for any infringement.
I choose to while away at a make believe game
With make believe rules.
But I play fair,
Lest I should be judged by me.
I granted myself the liberty
Imparting meaning to my existence.
Meticulously building a façade.
Filling the void that I was born into.
One reckless step and it might all collapse-
Life, rules, beliefs-
A heap of nothingness at square one.
This choice-
The liberator from the drudgery of existence-
Is the one that binds me.
So I force myself to stay awake
For a few more hours each night.
Trying to get the blocks in place.
Convincing myself that what lies ahead is all pleasure.
Will it be reward enough
For all that I have suffered and lost
At my own game?
Nov 2, 2014
Nov 2, 2014 at 1:46 PM UTC
I am not crying for Mandela the Hero
but for Mandela the Man
I am not crying for Mandela the Politician
but for Mandela the Father
not for Mandela the slave
but Mandela the free man
not for Mandela the jail bird
but for Mandela the liberator of self
not for Mandela the answer to SA's prayers
but for Mandela the doer of the deeds
May God Comfort South Africa in this great loss
Dec 6, 2013
Dec 6, 2013 at 3:02 AM UTC
The walking dead fill these streets
Hollow eyes and empty minds
Cluelessly they shamble on
Knowing nothing of *****
Herb is my liberator
I find freedom in the kush
One ****** puff sets me free
My chains are broken by ****
Babylon consumes our minds
Men walk like zombies entranced
If everyone had a spliff
All the world would be at peace
Dec 4, 2014
Dec 4, 2014 at 1:31 PM UTC
His garb was not spectacular,his shoes were grey and worn;
his hair was longer than a mere crewcut.
His nails were very *****
his veins were free of needles-
and his face shone bright red
in the misty sunlight.
He greeted the sky with a wail of delight,
and the hearts of passers began to throb.
Summer and autumn were remarried in an embrace of generous hope,
throbbing airwaves,tapping feet,delighted smiles.
And then along came a citizen,politically correct;
oh so relevant,barely tolerant ,emancipator.
With a fuzz of of ***** gray
a salloween expressive nosegay-
A mission to expunge the infiltrator!
He was busy with his flute;
he could not practise,he said
"I only live two hundred yards away.
You must cease and leave this place
you do not fit here in this race-
ABANDON this ridiculous idea!"
So,the stopwatch was set;
the 'half hour rule' began to reign:
And the police turned up
after merely twenty minutes!
Nelson's watch saved the day
"take another twenty"They did say
and our liberator slunk away
unfairly treated.
Though earth on heel and
sky on neck:Lovers'
authentic myth
outshining heaven:
a piper
on a bridge
unsheathed
across
the Ij
A klted
magpie.
unswathed
the lay
fairly
greeted
Sep 27, 2010
Sep 27, 2010 at 7:55 AM UTC
Walking past the stupefied wall
its chippings tells a different story;
who was the graffitist and perhaps the eventual liberator,
rolled up into that cumulative presiding chisel
that took it to the ledge.
May 7, 2013
May 7, 2013 at 2:55 PM UTC
You are different from the rest.
I was warned of those who would break my heart but never of those who would steal it from the very cage which it was entrapped in
I never gave you a key, just visiting hours
That alone was enough for you to swing wide the door open and allow my heart to go free
You kidnapped my heart but the key to yours belonged to another
You gave my heart its freedom but free it cannot be for it now lies in the palm of your hand
They never tell you that you don't get choice of your liberator or if you get the joy of holding their heart too
Oct 3, 2014
Oct 3, 2014 at 1:50 PM UTC
I know love not as an arm around a waist,
nor fingers teasing hair and running down a neck--
but as a temporary tattoo,
and the fleeting taste of Zebra Fruit Stripe Gum.
And just like Da Vinci never slept,
but took several naps a day--
So do I fall in love daily,
but tenfold!
The deep yearning that wells within my soul
and sits as the lump lodged within my aching throat,
I stumble through the day tripping over my enamoredness
towards any kind soul who dares to look my way,
or speak my name,
or touch my hand--
and I want to set up a kissing booth
in the middle of a shopping center
or my college campus,
and solicit others to grant me a taste of their humanity
in the holiest of ways,
man or woman,
young or old,
to but press their lips against mine for a second
and I would become illuminated,
rejuvenated,
and I would leap from my weary mental confines
like a grasshopper springing out of tall grass,
and love would well up within me--
Not as a transient fix,
but an anchor in these uncharted waters,
a cool glass of milk to a parched throat in a late night hour,
outlasting any cheap ****** or content stomach,
and shying away the facade of complacency.
I would burst forth like a battering ram
through the prison cell doors I weep and wallow behind,
and I'd have a skip in my step
that would ferry me across every pond and great lake.
For these hands do not pray,
but they tremble, and they ache.
And these lips do as hands do,
as they rest upon a placid face
that looks in the mirror and reads
of the anguish seeping out of inflamed pores
and burrowing between the creases
alluding a furrowed brow,
and if but a kiss could render one free
from such odious palpations,
then I'll gladly set mine to the liberator,
whomever it may be--
And how many lips does it take
to get to the center of my frozen aching heart?
The world may never know.
Sep 13, 2016
Sep 13, 2016 at 11:12 PM UTC
Could I in my own efforts, pick myself up if I were dead?
Could I in my own efforts, heal the wounds which I continue to inflict
Could I in my own efforts, prepare to mend the sickness for which I have no cure?
Could I in my own effort, become the person I want too, but don't have the means to become
Could I in my own efforts, harness the power and the strength that I simply do not possess on my own
could I possibly in my own efforts, conquer something in my past that I have failed to over come
The answer is elegant yet most simple, of course I could not!
Could I in my own efforts fall to my knees
Could I in my own efforts, weep and lay still
Could I in my own efforts, move not one inch
Could I in my own efforts, utter a cry for help
Could I in my own efforts be liberated?
Not without a liberator good and strong to break down the gates
And I ask myself will I call for such liberation
The answer has come when I fear I shall not be liberated.
And so in my state I confess that I, am in need of a liberator
Sep 30, 2016
Sep 30, 2016 at 2:58 PM UTC
Talking
Always talking
Clock refusing to stop
Haggard chops cop slobber
Saliva’s dripping off
Bored exhalations
Mix
Mental ice
With
Warm air
Mere exposure
Drafting
Numb staring stupor
Sleepy
Waiting to hear
Friday night brew cheers near
Oh! There’s an hour cleared!
Closing on those last four
Funny
Hours I fling so freely
I most adore
Oct 27, 2017
Oct 27, 2017 at 6:09 PM UTC
*As the storm brews in the tenacious sky
One can only dream
When will the sun arrive?
Handicapped from planned pursuits
The chain from the shadows lurks
Wrapping around your being, all actions made mute
Sun, Savior, Liberator
When will you finally release these cuffs of confinement?*
Apr 23, 2013
Apr 23, 2013 at 9:03 AM UTC
She is not perfect, nor even very close.
But what she is for me is perfection, a shadow isn't as close.
She is not my savior, as The Christ already has that role.
But she is my salvation, the liberator of my soul.
She is not my property or even my right.
But she is everything I have far beyond sight.
She is my Jaime!!!
Jul 10, 2014
Jul 10, 2014 at 9:44 AM UTC
She arrived like rain on fire
She possessed my every desire
She poured fuel into my cup
Inserted a sparkplug and started me up
Rocket engine fired up, boost activated and racing towards the top
Exiting the atmosphere
Never has my vision been so clear
Stars and planets cheering in excitement
Her voice is my drive in a space so silent
Thundering past gas giants and supernova’s
Competing against science in alliance with the gods, odds in our Favour
Hearts greater than nature
My saviour
May 19, 2018
May 19, 2018 at 8:38 AM UTC
feel...released.
They cannot lock you in their box,
They cannot sterilize your mind,
and only you and a guest can get in.
You will arrive,
You can stay,
You hold my set of keys,
Let me convince you
I will try to lift you up, when he lets you down.
We can
Right now.
You can share your insanity.
I will always listen, seldom speak
You can be your own liberator
They can't quite grasp, what makes me, you.
It diminishes,
this locomotive of doubt
No longer in unwilling *******
I seeps into the seams,,
and flows down from above.
to take you to a feeling....Invigorated
Fulfilled, and relieved,
that their eyes can see you, for you,
and not who even the slaves, dread to be.
You shall never be bound unwillingly
Every key I own, I give to you
Snap the chains they have slipped on your mind.
Aug 23, 2012
Aug 23, 2012 at 3:23 PM UTC
In the dark, alone
With only night as a friend
My face must have shown
With tears finally shed
But cried as I might
The pain would not cease
Held through the whole fight
It had finally unleashed
Clutching to my soul
The hurt would not go
As my tears kept to roll
In this night of sorrow
But as my depression
Continued its recession
Into the infinite hollow
A beam did I spy
And though run did I try
The light, merely followed
At last, tired of the chase
I slowed my pace
To see why the light pursued
And to my surprise
It was not my demise
That sought my gloomy mood
The light was a savior
A liberator with the key
To take some of my labor
And pain away from me
And who put up this fight?
Why, my own caring friends
Who bathed me in light-
Now my darkness forever ends.
Nov 28, 2012
Nov 28, 2012 at 7:13 PM UTC
The light that sustains me,
the spark that ignites me,
the calm of the rain,
the cleanse of the snow,
the beat that's pushing my blood,
the air that's filling my lungs,
the harmony on my best days,
the melody on my worst days,
you are my liberator.
Mar 15, 2015
Mar 15, 2015 at 6:31 PM UTC
Never had it been of the application of force between
interludes of terrible waiting that getting on with hostilities
was more calming than the imagination of the horrors
that lay ahead
The initial wave knew the sacrifice would be written about
until the heavens decided that history was full enough of
our failures, shaking loose its detachment from the fate of
its hapless creation
They were led by men who could be counted on to exhort
them with words as to their duty; to be told of the good
hunting to come, but to men who had no fantasies of their
own, words only fabricate a hero
There was no marksmanship or survival skill that could
shield a man fated to crush the spirit inside the prayers
uttered by his mother; there was no training that could
prepare him for life or judgment day
And yet those whom absolution abandoned to their own
devices had fallen in love with their conquerors only to
weep bitterly as the beachcombers liberated them from
their supposed occupation
It made them wonder of the desperation that was
stronger than hope; about how a woman could fall in
love with the eyes of the enemy; and how the enemy
could have a heart for love
But his witness of human nature amidst the horrors
of despots would remain in abeyance until the fears of a
common man had met courage in the moment he realized
how mankind could never love him as does a God
He wondered if he would be different; would he be death
unable to laugh or understand a broken nail; would he be
able to believe in men; would he be able to love someone
when he knew his heart was left behind?
Jul 11, 2015
Jul 11, 2015 at 7:59 PM UTC
I am a mask.
I am the face of soldiers, murderers, monsters, heroes...
Though I guard one man from stealing eyes
I am the last thing many see,
From the gallows to the shadows
And the depths of the sea.
Savior, slaughterer, sacred, scarring,
And yet I have no eyes with which to cry.
I am a mask.
I am the shield of the weak,
Protector of the fearful,
But people look down on me.
They call me a coward, but then I am showered
With praise when the crooked see.
Needed, never noticed, nervous,
And yet I have no eyes with which to cry.
I am a mask.
Used and thrown away,
Used again another day:
To raise a gun and rob a bank;
To shield the lawman stopping a criminal;
To blind a man who walks on death row;
To hide the executioner's twisted smile.
Lawbreaker, liberator, litigator, life,
And yet I have no eyes with which to cry.
I am a mask.
Jul 30, 2012
Jul 30, 2012 at 9:21 PM UTC
When yesterday became today
When ****** was justified
When you disappeared into thin air
Lights dimmed
Only a flame flickering in the wind
When the skies opened
And a horn blew
When last words were not spoken
Memories haunting
Forever eternal
A veil placed over the world
I remember
When the world hushed
Except a shriek of anger
Except endless tears
When the music stopped
But angels sang lullabies
When the flood came and gone
Leaving a barren mind
Helplessness and numbness
When a heart skipped a beat
And life left you
I remember
When your liberator came
When it was time
When the sky turned gray
When the world stopped
I remember
Jan 22, 2011
Jan 22, 2011 at 8:33 PM UTC
Coffee mists the window as leaves dance,
blown by autumnal gusts; summer is gone.
Your presence is in memories,
and life goes on regardless.
I yearn for the soft embrace
of a mother’s love.
You could not love,
not once in our twisted dance.
I am left with the harshest embrace,
the chance to redeem gone.
I am a man regardless,
surrounded by my own constant memories.
I hide behind memories,
turn them into excuses against love.
My liberator slices through regardless
of my erratic dance.
Lessons learned are gone,
captured in love’s embrace.
I turn to a child’s embrace,
the birth of new memories.
All thought of you is gone
pushed out by innocent love,
learning a new dance
irrelevant of a past regardless.
I am in your shoes, your influence regardless.
A responsibility to embrace,
side stepping your dance
learning from my memories.
Bad lessons of love
Now gone.
The pain of passing has now gone,
despite all, I mourned regardless.
There should be a hole of missing love,
a divide I would happily embrace.
It should be filled with memories
of a family’s dance.
I am sorry for your loveless embrace.
Bitterness is gone, I am content regardless,
my memories lead me through this dance.
Nov 27, 2013
Nov 27, 2013 at 11:22 AM UTC