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"mayo" poems
Boom! Pagsabog! Na sa aking dibdib ay kumabog! Ang isip at kaluluwa ko'y nabubulabog! Ito nga ba'y himig ng kapayapaan o himig ng digmaan? Isa akong musmos na batang---- naninirahan sa isang bayan, Dito ako lumaki at nagkaroon ng pangalan, Bayang Marawi ang lupang aking sinilangan, Isang bayang tanyag sa kaunlaran, Ngunit ngayo'y nagiging usap-usapan sa t.v, radyo at maging sa pahayagan. Hindi ko malilimutan ang gabing nagdaan, Gabi!--- ng ika-23 ng Mayo ang nagpinta sa aking pusong sugatan, Isa ako sa mga nawalan ng magulang, at saksi sa karahasan na walang katapusan, Hudyat ng pagguho ng pag-asang aking pinanghahawakan. at habang aking pinagmamasdan, Isa-isang nabubulagta at dugu-an, Ang aking mga kamag-anak at kaibigan, at sila'y.....wala na----- wala ng malay at nakahandusay. Wala akong magawa kundi ang tumakbo ng tumakbo, kumarepas ako ng takbo.....ng isang napakabilis na takbo.... nanginginig sa takot...pagod na pagod... humihingal.... Iyak ng iyak at nagsusumamo at habang ako'y papalayo ng papalayo-------- Naisip ko: "Saan ako patutungo?" "Sa mga pangyayaring ito sino ang namumuno?" Sila ba'y mga Muslim o Kristiyano?" Ngunit maging sino man sila---- Sila'y hindi santo na may pusong bato, Dahil sila'y pumapatay ng kahit na sino, at ito'y hindi makatarungan at makatao. Ang sakit....Oo ang saklap...ang bayan na naghahatid ng kaunlaran, Ngayon ay nabubura at nag-iiwan ng isang malagim na ala-ala, Nagsisilbing aral sa tuwina at nagpa-paalala, Na kinakailangan ng isang may malinis na adhikain at tapat sa tungkulin ang namamahala. Ano nga ba ang hatid ng kaguluhang ito? Kaginhawaan o Kahirapan? Kabuhayan o Kamatayan? Ang katotohanang ito'y-------- Isang malagim na karimlan! Pagluha para sa aming mga kabataan, Crestine Cuerpo at pagmamaka-awa para sa darating naming kinabukasan, Oo.....masakit ang mawalan, Ngunit kailangan kong maging matapang, Dahil ako'y isang Pilipinong handang lumaban, Kaya't sigaw ko Pagbabago! Katarungan! Sa mga kinauukulan: Nasaan? Nasaan? ang inyong pagmamalasakit sa kapwa at sa bayan? Kung sa isip at puso niyo'y para lamang sa pera at kapangyarihan? Kapatid... Kapuso.... Kabarkada.... at Kapamilya....... Gumising ka ang lahat ay may-----hangganan.
0
Aug 13, 2017
Aug 13, 2017 at 6:36 AM UTC
Tinig Ng Isang Batang Marawi
Boom! Pagsabog! Na sa aking dibdib ay kumabog! Ang isip at kaluluwa ko'y nabubulabog! Ito nga ba'y himig ng kapayapaan o himig ng digmaan? Isa akong musmos na batang---- naninirahan sa isang bayan, Dito ako lumaki at nagkaroon ng pangalan, Bayang Marawi ang lupang aking sinilangan, Isang bayang tanyag sa kaunlaran, Ngunit ngayo'y nagiging usap-usapan sa t.v, radyo at maging sa pahayagan. Hindi ko malilimutan ang gabing nagdaan, Gabi!--- ng ika-23 ng Mayo ang nagpinta sa aking pusong sugatan, Isa ako sa mga nawalan ng magulang, at saksi sa karahasan na walang katapusan, Hudyat ng pagguho ng pag-asang aking pinanghahawakan. at habang aking pinagmamasdan, Isa-isang nabubulagta at dugu-an, Ang aking mga kamag-anak at kaibigan, at sila'y.....wala na----- wala ng malay at nakahandusay. Wala akong magawa kundi ang tumakbo ng tumakbo, kumarepas ako ng takbo.....ng isang napakabilis na takbo.... nanginginig sa takot...pagod na pagod... humihingal.... Iyak ng iyak at nagsusumamo at habang ako'y papalayo ng papalayo-------- Naisip ko: "Saan ako patutungo?" "Sa mga pangyayaring ito sino ang namumuno?" Sila ba'y mga Muslim o Kristiyano?" Ngunit maging sino man sila---- Sila'y hindi santo na may pusong bato, Dahil sila'y pumapatay ng kahit na sino, at ito'y hindi makatarungan at makatao. Ang sakit....Oo ang saklap...ang bayan na naghahatid ng kaunlaran, Ngayon ay nabubura at nag-iiwan ng isang malagim na ala-ala, Nagsisilbing aral sa tuwina at nagpa-paalala, Na kinakailangan ng isang may malinis na adhikain at tapat sa tungkulin ang namamahala. Ano nga ba ang hatid ng kaguluhang ito? Kaginhawaan o Kahirapan? Kabuhayan o Kamatayan? Ang katotohanang ito'y-------- Isang malagim na karimlan! Pagluha para sa aming mga kabataan, Crestine Cuerpo at pagmamaka-awa para sa darating naming kinabukasan, Oo.....masakit ang mawalan, Ngunit kailangan kong maging matapang, Dahil ako'y isang Pilipinong handang lumaban, Kaya't sigaw ko Pagbabago! Katarungan! Sa mga kinauukulan: Nasaan? Nasaan? ang inyong pagmamalasakit sa kapwa at sa bayan? Kung sa isip at puso niyo'y para lamang sa pera at kapangyarihan? Kapatid... Kapuso.... Kabarkada.... at Kapamilya....... Gumising ka ang lahat ay may-----hangganan.
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62
Nilisan kong hubad ang pinaglunuhan, Enero, Pebrero, Marso ng kabataan Lubi-lubi ang awit sa tiyang kumakalam balatkayong pinasikip ng mga agam-agam mga ala-alang pilit naglulungga, inipit na liham sa yungib ng pipíng isipan. Sa pagtalikód ko’y hiniwa ng balaraw ng panghihinayang ang banig na naidlip saglit sa magdamag na paglalamay banig na nilala ng mga dekada mula sa mga hibla ng pagsusumikap. Paalam, kaibigang nabingi sa tawag ng luho Walang alinlangang maririnig mo rin ang tibok at bulong ng puso Ninais ko sanang samahan mo ako at ating anihin ang mga uhay na mula sa binhing ipinunla sa mga alapaap. Ninais kong lasapin ang matamis na bunga, pinahinog ng tiyaga at patuloy na pag-asa. Subalit dagtang makapit, luhang mapait, kumikirot ang lupa sa patak ng namuong dugo ng bayaning nagbuwis ng sariling pagsuyo. Kikitlin ng Nobyembre ang bawat naiwang himaymay sa lamig ng yakap ng amihan - akala’y dakila ang dayuhang niyebe. Mamamaluktot muli sa maigsing kumot hanggang sa magising sa aguinaldo ng Disyembre at pagpasok na naman ng Bagong Taon walang kamatayang panahon aasa na naman sa **** na iba ang pangako at iba ang tugon sa dalangin at maraming tanong Ah sanga pala, Abril, Mayo, Hunyo noon.
0
Oct 1, 2018
Oct 1, 2018 at 1:31 AM UTC
Oktubre
Sa pagdating **** napabalita Unang sulyap palang namangha na Gayak na sinauna Sa paningin mahalina Musikang kaytanda na Sa pandinig mahiwaga Mahalaga ang gabi Simula ng pagsaksi Kwento kong inabangan Hatid niyang kasaysayan Sa aking talambuhay Gabing iyon may saysay Nasa pagtitipon Mga kaklase noon Kapitbahay inuman Masaya ang kwentuhan Subalit ako’y saglit Umuwi sa malapit Iyon ay dahil batid ko Simula na ng kwento Ng kanyang unang yugto Gabing Trenta ng Mayo Mula nang araw na ‘yon Pagsubaybay tradisyon Naging makabuluhan Likhang pampanitikan Subalit ‘di naglaon Nawalan telebisyon ‘Di hadlang gayunpaman Sa radyo’y pinakinggan Mula pagkabinukot Hanggang aliping tulot Babaylang naging **** Mandirigmang pinuno Nilupig at nanlupig Inusig at nang-usig Natulig at nanulig Inibig at umibig Nagtago at naglakbay Namatay at nabuhay Tinanggap at nagpanggap Naghirap at nilingap Sakay ng karakoa Tinungo ibang banwa Naghanda sa pagbalik Upang ganti’y ihalik Sa mabagsik na raha Na pumatay sa ama Sa pinunong baluktot At sa harang nanalot Mangubat at Angaway Mga rahang kaaway Lamitan na ninanay Nais siyang maging bangkay Sa kahuli-hulihan Lahat sila’y talunan Sa babae ng tagna Walang iba – Amaya Salamat, umalagad Maging hanggang sa sulad Salamat, kapanalig Laban sa manlulupig Salamat, Uray Hilway Mga tinuran gabay Salamat kay Bagani Pag-ibig nanatili Salamat sa Banal na Laon Diyos ng mga ninuno noon Kina Amaya’y panginoon Tagapagpala ng kanilang nayon Ang dulo ng epikong kapapanaw Akala’y ‘di na matatanaw Salamat sa unang Christmas bonus May TV na bago taon ay matapos Mahalaga rin ang gabi Katapusan ng pagsaksi Huling yugtong tinunghayan Ang kamatayan ni Lamitan Sa aking talambuhay Gabing iyon rin ay may saysay Nasa huling burol at lamayan Bago at matapos subaybayan Iyon ay kakaibang alaala ko Sa katapusan ng kwento Ng kanyang huling yugto Biyernes – Trese ng Enero Nagbrown-out pa nga Habang oras ng balita Buti nalang at umilaw Sa tuwa ako’y napahiyaw Sa pagtunog ng huling musika At paggalaw ng katapusang eksena Bukas TV at radyo Sa makasaysayang mga tagpo Ngayong gabi ng paglikha Ng tulang handog sa programa Unang gabing kapani-panibago Dahil wala na sa ere ang paborito ko Subalit ang Alaala ni Amaya Mga gayak, musika, tauhan at kultura Mga aral, tinuran, inspirasyon at ideya Mananatiling buhay sa aking diwa! -01/16-17/2012 (Dumarao) *missing my favorite program
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Aug 24, 2019
Aug 24, 2019 at 10:03 PM UTC
Alaala ni Amaya
Sa pagdating **** napabalita Unang sulyap palang namangha na Gayak na sinauna Sa paningin mahalina Musikang kaytanda na Sa pandinig mahiwaga Mahalaga ang gabi Simula ng pagsaksi Kwento kong inabangan Hatid niyang kasaysayan Sa aking talambuhay Gabing iyon may saysay Nasa pagtitipon Mga kaklase noon Kapitbahay inuman Masaya ang kwentuhan Subalit ako’y saglit Umuwi sa malapit Iyon ay dahil batid ko Simula na ng kwento Ng kanyang unang yugto Gabing Trenta ng Mayo Mula nang araw na ‘yon Pagsubaybay tradisyon Naging makabuluhan Likhang pampanitikan Subalit ‘di naglaon Nawalan telebisyon ‘Di hadlang gayunpaman Sa radyo’y pinakinggan Mula pagkabinukot Hanggang aliping tulot Babaylang naging **** Mandirigmang pinuno Nilupig at nanlupig Inusig at nang-usig Natulig at nanulig Inibig at umibig Nagtago at naglakbay Namatay at nabuhay Tinanggap at nagpanggap Naghirap at nilingap Sakay ng karakoa Tinungo ibang banwa Naghanda sa pagbalik Upang ganti’y ihalik Sa mabagsik na raha Na pumatay sa ama Sa pinunong baluktot At sa harang nanalot Mangubat at Angaway Mga rahang kaaway Lamitan na ninanay Nais siyang maging bangkay Sa kahuli-hulihan Lahat sila’y talunan Sa babae ng tagna Walang iba – Amaya Salamat, umalagad Maging hanggang sa sulad Salamat, kapanalig Laban sa manlulupig Salamat, Uray Hilway Mga tinuran gabay Salamat kay Bagani Pag-ibig nanatili Salamat sa Banal na Laon Diyos ng mga ninuno noon Kina Amaya’y panginoon Tagapagpala ng kanilang nayon Ang dulo ng epikong kapapanaw Akala’y ‘di na matatanaw Salamat sa unang Christmas bonus May TV na bago taon ay matapos Mahalaga rin ang gabi Katapusan ng pagsaksi Huling yugtong tinunghayan Ang kamatayan ni Lamitan Sa aking talambuhay Gabing iyon rin ay may saysay Nasa huling burol at lamayan Bago at matapos subaybayan Iyon ay kakaibang alaala ko Sa katapusan ng kwento Ng kanyang huling yugto Biyernes – Trese ng Enero Nagbrown-out pa nga Habang oras ng balita Buti nalang at umilaw Sa tuwa ako’y napahiyaw Sa pagtunog ng huling musika At paggalaw ng katapusang eksena Bukas TV at radyo Sa makasaysayang mga tagpo Ngayong gabi ng paglikha Ng tulang handog sa programa Unang gabing kapani-panibago Dahil wala na sa ere ang paborito ko Subalit ang Alaala ni Amaya Mga gayak, musika, tauhan at kultura Mga aral, tinuran, inspirasyon at ideya Mananatiling buhay sa aking diwa! -01/16-17/2012 (Dumarao) *missing my favorite program
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105
Sala bala ang mangimon Kapin pa pag may rason Buang na ina bala dayon Kung nagpalangga ka lang halin sa tagipusuon Adlaw2x himuon ang tanan Mabal-an lang ang kabutigan Madakpan lang nga ginaluiban Sang nobyo nga ginahalungan Kung wala gid man dapat pangimunan Ti ngaa indi gid mahimo palayuan Kung wala gid man sila Ngaa himu-himuan ka pa storya nila Kung sobra ka man sa reaksiyon Ti kay bali2x man ang rason Kung gulpi ka lang daun gadesisyon Sa ulihi ikaw pa ang kontrahon Tuod nga indi mo gid malikawan Mga tawo nga indi ka gid maintsindihan Di bala mas mayo na lang ang imunan Kis-a sa panghatag-hatag ka lang sa iban
0
Jan 17, 2016
Jan 17, 2016 at 6:18 AM UTC
Nobya Nga Maimon
Dae ibig sabihon na tuninong dae na maogma. Dae ibig sabihon na itom, demonyo ka na. Dae ibig sabihon na habo mo sa tao, mayo ka ng kwenta. Kung dae mo siya maintindihan, respetohan mo an desisyon niya. Dae mo pwersahon an sadiri mo sa sarong tao. Ako an tao na mas gustong hilingon an kinaban sa mata kan taong nasasabatan ko, arog kan pagabot mo, yaon ka nanaman pinapagirumdum sako na an buhay kan tao halipot lang. An duros na hali sa langit pasiring sa itom na háwak asin nagsasakop sa palibot kan kandila, An makakan hanggan sa madiklom an palibot. Hanggan sa pagpikit. Tuninong na boses, Magian na háwak, Matagas na boot, Magayon na numero, asin kanta na dae mo mapugolan itao saimo kan mánlaén-láen na tao. Hanggang sa maghinghíng saimo an kinaban nin: "Maogmáng Compleaño, Ermano!"
0
Feb 7, 2019
Feb 7, 2019 at 10:43 AM UTC
Maogmáng Compleaño, Ermano!
JAY nothin yep what crack dogpoop lol bananas Hitchcock what da **** like mayo? got beef? Hussein Mad Libs Donkey Asian Jesus Brown Rice Cross-Country Mexicans Asian Eminem Royce Da 5'9 Skype
0
May 26, 2013
May 26, 2013 at 9:50 PM UTC
First phrase of recent Skype chats
Contemplating the versatility of Mayo And all that can be done with it From the slathering on whilst sun bathing To globbing it on my bologna sandwich I find it tantalizing to the tastebuds And it sure does sizzle in the sun I once applied to much and set my toes on fire Lucky for me I lost only one Thank goodness I was near the water When my foot went up in flames I guess that's why God gives us ten toes In case we lose any along the way As with anything you can even get bored with Mayonnaise That's why I strive for different ideas So I put my brain juices into overdrive And came up with this amazing list Instead of milk in a shake you can use Mayo Please wait till the end for all the applause I'm still having trouble dealing with thickness And have yet to get it through the straw Perhaps if I leave out the ice cream And just add Mayo, milk chocolate, and ice I guess I'll just keep on experimenting When it's ready you can be the first in line And who doesn't like mayonnaise on anchovie pizza The perfect combination at best Even better than peanut butter and jelly If only I can figure out how to package it Mayonnaise is also the perfect conditioner You could leave it in your hair for days I suppose But try to avoid to much time in the sun After all...remember the toes I'm going back to my room for more ideas now Or as I like to call it..."The Mayo Think Tank" I know my family thinks I'm a genius Cause they always leave me in there for days
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Sep 23, 2013
Sep 23, 2013 at 3:47 PM UTC
"Mayonnaise" You heard right..."Mayonnaise"
innuendo sushi is usher asking Sienese disowns shown plops aside ask dud NCOs debs downwind UBS mayo Iowa. Laos Nissan seis *** so enemies Sandusky snails used iOS somehow Owen haikus eye owl ensues diss worsens skinned unique. ushers witted hub woman's newish naval cavity sis wish lend USB [rage typing doesn't work with auto correct]
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Aug 2, 2013
Aug 2, 2013 at 11:54 PM UTC
this isn't a poem, but this made me laugh
Sa minasunod na aldaw hanggang sa huring aldaw kan taon Asahan nindong yaon an Kaniguan para damayan kamo. Maguran man, bumagyo, igwang problema sa ido, naloko ka kan sarong tao o binayaan ka man kan ka-ilusyon mo. Magrani lang sako—Maimbong na kugos an mareresibe mo. Magrani lang sako—Madangog sa kun ano man pinagaagihan mo. Magrani lang sako alagad dae ko ika babasolon, pagulayan ta kun tano, sain o ano an nangyari. Yaon ako kun gusto **** barkada, tugang, ama o ina na madamay saimo, bako lang ninong ta baka dae ako makaiba. Papakolon taka kun dae mo nahihiling an sala mo, pero papaogmahon taka maski dae mo nahihiling an sala mo. Sabay tang pagulayan gabos na tama mo, pati si crush na grabe an tama saimo Magiging maogma ako sa gabos na tamang desisyon mo, maski sala an paglakaw mo magiging maogma man giraray ako, ta aram ko makakanuod ka. Mataong direksyon na pwede **** sundon kun nawawaran ka na nin pag-asa. Aram ko Bikolano ka, an Bikolan Oragon, matagas an ano, an puso saka an buot dae basta basta minasuko sa laban. Hanggang yaon kamo o maski mayo na kamo Dae kamo basta basta mawawara sa puso ko. Salamat sa pinagagihan ta kang nakaaging taon alagad salamat man giraray para sa magigin iribahan, surubahan, kulitan, urulnakan, ngirisihan istoryahan ta ngunyan na taon. Padagos an Pagkamoot!
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Jan 1, 2018
Jan 1, 2018 at 1:16 PM UTC
Kaniguan
May mga kurabkutab sa daghan na minaulang sa Bulos kan daing sagkod na siram. Mayo ining kinaaram sa natural Na pagruso kan mga kolor sa buhay o pagkamoot. Saro ining kamawotan kan langkag na kalag na taros ning lugad. Ngonian liwat minapoon an paghiro kan puso na Danay nang daing untok. Liwat na pagkabuhay---liningwan an nakaagi; Nakahuyom na liwanag sa imaaga na ladawan ning pagmawot; Sarong hararom na hurop-hurop sa pagsusod kan pagkatawo, Bako sa tuyong magkaigwa, kundi Tumang sa kinatudan na paghiling sa Pagkamoot, ngonian minakmukna nin kinapunan.
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Oct 10, 2013
Oct 10, 2013 at 4:43 PM UTC
Septiembre Disisiete
70 anyos ka don gakabuhi Sugod sang mabun-ag diri tubtob nagradwar sa UP Halin sang magkapamilya asta sa pulitika ginpili 43 ka tuig ka don nga pulitiko Nagserbisyo sg mayo kg wala eskandalo Ang ngalan malimpyo kg palangga sg tawo 32 anyos don ang buluthuan nga imo ginpatindog Ang CapSU-Dumarao nga padayon nagapanikasog Madamo na ka beses nga ginbagyo kg ginlinog 20 ka gobernador na sang ikaw magpungko Ugaling ikaw guid ang may nabuligan sg damo Gani para sa akon ikaw ang “Kampeon sg mga Capizeño” 13 ka president don ang imo naagyan Sugod sa ti-on sg ikaduha nga digmaan Asta sa ti-on sg tadlong nga dalan 2 na ang binalaybay nga halad ko sa imo Kay ikaw indi guid madula sa akon painu-ino Gob. Tanco, ikaw sa guihapon ang akon idolo! 1 duman ini ka maragtason nga ti-on Kay ang Amay sg CapSU-Dumarao ara sa guihapon Nagbuylog kg nagtambong sa amon pagtililipon! -10/14-15/2014 (Dumarao) *for Gob. Tanco’s 70th Birthday
0
Sep 14, 2019
Sep 14, 2019 at 10:15 PM UTC
Ikaw Sa Guihapon!
Sawa na ako sa paulit-ulit na pagturo kan luhà hali sa panganoron. Núarín taka mahihiling sakuyang saldáng? Núarín an tamang panahon para ako naman an maogmá? Kun pwede lang na kumuson an gabos na panmátî ko, irolyo sa papel hali sa lumang notebook ko, laagan nin dawon, sulôon asin halaton an gabos na kuanon kan duros pasíring sa mayo. Mayo man akong gusto kundi maging maogmá.
0
Apr 22, 2018
Apr 22, 2018 at 11:37 PM UTC
Duros (Wind)
I walked past my pantry Late one Friday night To the sounds of what appeared to be The goings on of a party inside I grabbed a hold the latches Swung wide open the door With absolutely no earthly idea Of what was soon in store Colorful lights were flashing Somewhere in the back I moved aside the ketchup and mayo To see where it was at I took out the pickles and saltine's So I could better see What all the commotion was inside Of my food pantry That's when I saw the flashing lights Inside the jar of Nutella I picked it up right away Me being a some what curious fella As I held it at eye level It vibrated in my hands In what felt like a driving rhythm From a 70's Disco band Can't say I wasn't nervous As I loosened up the lid No telling what was going on inside What dangers lay ahead With both hands slightly shaking I removed the rounded top There was a party in the making And it was going on non stop The Nutella had it's boogie on Or if you prefer, it's groove Whatever you wish to call it A party was the mood There was a strobe light and confetti Even a tiny Disco ball As I gazed over the edge of the jar I saw banners wall to wall I guess you could say Nutella Is quite the party treat That may cost you at the grocery store But once home the cover charge is free
0
Jul 4, 2014
Jul 4, 2014 at 8:22 AM UTC
~Nutella~
More than *** with Anne Hathaway, more than tic tac toe with John Malkovich, I need a ******* sandwich. Wheat white rye I don't give a **** give me whatever loaf you have grains wheat flour water make me bread and stick some meat in between. Anything roast beef capicola ham wait ham ***** Anything but ham, it reminds me of Mia. Give me mustard yellow like **** but tasty not tested give me ketchup lipoproteins or fiber lettuce tomatoes make it seem healthy but layer it with mayo saturate that fat fill me up with a ******* sandwich.
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Oct 4, 2010
Oct 4, 2010 at 9:24 PM UTC
Lust for a Sandwich
Escupe gente que  no tienen ereccion y lamen constituciones congeladas ! Escupe la falsa historia de las calles ! Escupe la cabeza del poder ! Escupe comerciantes de sustancias , las sotanas de la oscuridad y santos Zares ! Escupe dioses falsificadores y templos de atontamiento ! Escupe el preparan ballonetas y intelectuales militaristas ! Escupe los Nobel de la paz y dictatores Nobelistas ! Escupe primeros de Mayo vendidos y lamentos espias ! Esupe al anfitrion de los pueblos para que no levante cabeza ! Escupe relojes despertadores que te guian a la tristeza ! Escupe a los que duermen tranquilos en la noche y suenan viajes a Marte ! Escupe la Camora de alcahuetes abogados al fiscal que te escupe alos ojos y te manda al numero 60 de la pandilla ! Al salario de hambre y al multilado esperma de tu emleador escupe ! Escupe la invisible cara de la luna ! Escupe la libertad que te proparsionan Salvadores ! Escupe la poetica antologia que vomitase este poema mio ! Escupe los 47 anos de tu poeta como lehan escupido durante 47 anos continuos los ratas capitalistas !
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Feb 25, 2012
Feb 25, 2012 at 6:26 AM UTC
ESCUPE ...
you asked what I thought of you point-blank, blunt Bewildered, I examined the birthmark on your arm scuffed sneakers and your eyes the new old ones I liked: you had gotten rid of the colored contacts two months ago, day we met. mouth open, I searched for a word and was astounded at the difficulty smiling and I closed my lips, you seemed confused I took your hand as the subway doors opened and dragged you into the city we ran up the stairs, his hand was warm like the cigarette night air I’ll show him what I think of him, we ate burgers on the street corner; he spilled mayo down his shirt and we threw lettuce and laughter at each other.
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Jul 31, 2010
Jul 31, 2010 at 3:18 PM UTC
Throwing Lettuce
Después de que la noche al fin duerme las incoherencias imprudente del día tú, te acercas susurrando a mis oídos : te deseo tanto!- Sé que te mueres de ganas de poseerme lo noto en tus ojos en el pulso delicioso de tu cuello en el roce de tus sudorosas manos maestras cuando acarician mis caderas insolentes de continuos estallidos. Mía es tu carne amor, lo fue antes, lo es ahora Soy la única que conoce tu cuerpo de memoria la única que lo navega entera sin zozobrar nunca la única que sabes que no dejarás que naufrague en confusos oleajes Adoro cuando me bebes entera y entre mi falda juguetea tu aliento. Tú me sacias con tu experiencia eres mi delicioso bohemio atrevido amante de mis pezones que despiertan cuando suave los muerdes. Ven amor, ya sabes que tu piel es mi locura Ven que mi sangre hierve al ver tu pene hinchado y apurado ven cariño y clava tu lanza ardiente entre mis piernas que ya están abiertos y humedos los capullos de mi flor. No sabes como venero tu cuerpo navegante gimiendo y gozando cuando te cabalgo. Amor, es en tus ojos donde puedo ver como te pierdes del mundo entero como te pierdes acabado en mì. Y te gozo lento te hechizo te blasfemo y te conjuro antes de que mi boca comience el descenso. Hoy tu marea está de fiesta danzando apetitoso sobre mi lengua. Que bello honor es recibir tus gotas de diamante perla sobre mì. AZUL STRAUSS MARKUART TITULO :Gotas de Diamante Perla Poema: Texto completo.] Autora :Azul Strauss M 18 de Mayo del 2015 BUENOS AIRES.ARGENTINA ©Copyright –Derecho de Autor Reservado _ Expediente nº EGXU-ZLQN-2W3E-96U2/1102180341429 Dirección Nacional de Derecho de Autor, República Argentina Protegido por OMPI y el Tratado internacional de Suiza sobre derechos de autores
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Jun 3, 2015
Jun 3, 2015 at 12:44 AM UTC
GOTAS DE DIAMANTE PERLA
Después de que la noche al fin duerme las incoherencias imprudente del día tú, te acercas susurrando a mis oídos : te deseo tanto!- Sé que te mueres de ganas de poseerme lo noto en tus ojos en el pulso delicioso de tu cuello en el roce de tus sudorosas manos maestras cuando acarician mis caderas insolentes de continuos estallidos. Mía es tu carne amor, lo fue antes, lo es ahora Soy la única que conoce tu cuerpo de memoria la única que lo navega entera sin zozobrar nunca la única que sabes que no dejarás que naufrague en confusos oleajes Adoro cuando me bebes entera y entre mi falda juguetea tu aliento. Tú me sacias con tu experiencia eres mi delicioso bohemio atrevido amante de mis pezones que despiertan cuando suave los muerdes. Ven amor, ya sabes que tu piel es mi locura Ven que mi sangre hierve al ver tu pene hinchado y apurado ven cariño y clava tu lanza ardiente entre mis piernas que ya están abiertos y humedos los capullos de mi flor. No sabes como venero tu cuerpo navegante gimiendo y gozando cuando te cabalgo. Amor, es en tus ojos donde puedo ver como te pierdes del mundo entero como te pierdes acabado en mì. Y te gozo lento te hechizo te blasfemo y te conjuro antes de que mi boca comience el descenso. Hoy tu marea está de fiesta danzando apetitoso sobre mi lengua. Que bello honor es recibir tus gotas de diamante perla sobre mì. AZUL STRAUSS MARKUART TITULO :Gotas de Diamante Perla Poema: Texto completo.] Autora :Azul Strauss M 18 de Mayo del 2015 BUENOS AIRES.ARGENTINA ©Copyright –Derecho de Autor Reservado _ Expediente nº EGXU-ZLQN-2W3E-96U2/1102180341429 Dirección Nacional de Derecho de Autor, República Argentina Protegido por OMPI y el Tratado internacional de Suiza sobre derechos de autores
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One of the ways you lied was quite hard to describe A riddle of ridicule laced with flaring shoe laces ***** nudist desires smelt of pure hash bury mayo Feeling as if the end of the dawn would just be the beginning To pleasure the thought of you was something I once liked to do Now no longer For the song bird can only sing for so long Before their feathers molt to hear a call to move on Move on blonde lady long legs We are always meeting and moving on Towards a sky which crashes silently Quenching the thirst of many So on a black rimmed earth a universe folds and folds and folds Where men travel far not knowing where they go Explore the neck of your lover to see that she has another Each bell in the row rings as if it were the first time Crack yourself up to hear the laughter that you hide away in your room At first you may be surprised but the twang will not die unless You Will it Night whistles through me For I am not here I am soon to be gone But not to no grave Each note guides itself upon a road that man must draw to understand They take pride in cracking magic that laughs at our attempts And our Experiments The word seemed to mean something once People used to mean something also Nowadays All I see Are comma break decimals And funeral homes
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Jun 5, 2011
Jun 5, 2011 at 11:53 PM UTC
Comma Break Decimal
The year I would turn nine Charlie Kelly threw his pint over Paul Brennan in the opening scenes of a new Irish drama called Fair City. The 25th Dáil was dissolved. Ireland got its 1st lotto millionaire. There was talk of mining for gold in Mayo and Christy O’Connor Jnr won the Ryder Cup for Europe. (Years later playing Trivial Pursuit one of the questions wanted to know: what profession gets the Ryder Cup? — a cousin from Carlow answered; prostitutes.) I was growing through 3rd class St. Brendan’s National School; Loughrea — on the other side of Tiananmen Square another student stood up as the Guildford Four walked free after 14 years innocently incarcerated. While in Germany, a wall that had been built to divide: separate, fell. Pushed over by people. While Hungry, Poland and Czechoslovakia: all said: enough. The Russians left Afghanistan and in South Africa Apartheid began to crumble. Pity it was allowed to even begin. Iran was ****** off about some book and on Christmas Day in Romania Mr and Mrs Ceausescu were executed. In 1989, the Church of Ireland allowed female priests. 96 people died at Hillsborough. Haughey was Taoiseach, Mr. Heaney was conferred as Professor of Poetry at Oxford and we qualified for Italia 90. I was 9 and the only thing I remember about that year; I fell out of a tree and broke my arm.
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Nov 7, 2010
Nov 7, 2010 at 11:53 AM UTC
Reeling in the Years
you asked what I thought of you point-blank, blunt Bewildered, I examined the cross-shaped birthmark on your arm (you were agnostic) scuffed sneakers and your eyes the new old ones I liked: you had gotten rid of the blue contacts two months ago, a week after we met. mouth open, I searched for a word and couldn’t believe how hard it was smiling and I closed my lips, you seemed confused, did that little eyebrow thing I took your hand as the subway doors opened onto 66th St and dragged you into the city. we ran up the stairs, his hand was warm like the cigarette night air I’ll show him what I think of him we ate burgers from Sonic on the lit-up street corner; he spilled mayo down his shirt and we threw lettuce and laughter at each other.
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Mar 31, 2011
Mar 31, 2011 at 6:35 PM UTC
Throwing Lettuce (revised)
What will you have, asked the waitress, A death sandwich I replied, Mustard and ketchup, she continued, Yes and slather the mayo, double the cheese, I answered back politely, You’re aura is a spiral, she said, whole wheat or white, White with butter and does it come with final fries, I queried, Included, she replied And a new indelicate sugar fix by the pail. Make mine to go, I suggested. Want to quantum up and get a piece of plague cake Maybe **** cookies in a bowl. What a wonderful time to be alive I remarked, The only generation to ever eat itself to death she quipped, We’re special I said and looked away.
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Jan 26, 2016
Jan 26, 2016 at 12:46 PM UTC
Fries
drunk woodland children, we ask so many questions, we firefly skin. the picnic table beneath our lamps, our ouija board, our girlfriends next to us warm and laughing. stories: we tell stories to scare eachother before descending into our tents on the outer darks. sweet night nothings. & everythings. i’m consumed by dreams of you; somehow running; somehow ******* my way out of my own inevitable death. a lady bug wing half-yanked and humming. wind scorpion. mosquito in the early morning buzz, and i roll over to see your puffy little sleeping face ::: sunlight there. limp beyond the tent and zipper. we eat mayo sharp cheddar salami wheat sammies & take acid. everyone one else goes on a group nature-hike, but i stay behind hallucinating of my dead mother in those sequined clothes she used to wear. ::: we play scrabble and talk, until she leaves. like love. like guitar strummed chords and many hydrations later – my tribe returns, with fish. the girl i love. you/she roll joints in your lap, in my lap, in a chair and i mirage the faces of everyone through glass & slosh; through campfire & lemonade.
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Jun 6, 2014
Jun 6, 2014 at 4:22 AM UTC
organic light
I have to make him a turkey sandwich, crusts cut off, mayo on the left piece of bread, in two triangle halves every single night before he goes to sleep on the right side of the bed with two pillows, fluffed twice each, slippers tucked neatly underneath the bed skirt. And every night I wonder what would happen if I forgot the pickle on the side, like the one time we ran out of cheese and my car had a flat tire and the supermarket was so far, but boy did he give it to me. I’ve never seen someone count to one-hundred so fast with their finger taps before the table flipped. Never have I seen someone clean up glass so slowly, each piece thrown in the trash individually just like my pieces that have been carved away year after year, loaf after loaf, as my eyes droop backwards and rest on his haircut that I give every six weeks on a Wednesday. Sometimes, I try to kiss his neck when I let the scissors slip, but he always reminds me that this slot is “haircut time” and there’s no necessity in kissing anyway. And I’ve tried to respect his attic closet compartments with the key that had gone missing when he was fifteen, and I’ve tried to wish on misshapen pieces of cereal in my bowl because I’m that desperate for a miracle. Do you know? Do you know how hard it is to lie next to someone who you know doesn’t dream of you, not because he doesn’t want to, but because he can’t. He can’t do so many things and sometimes I’ll lay out a green tie on a workday instead of blue just to watch him blow up because at least that’s a feeling. At least that’s not white walls and another **** turkey sandwich. And I know that’s sinful, and I also know that I fold my hands wrong when I pray, but I’ve tried to shape him for years and all I’ve gotten is a cast with nothing to fill the mold. And I know my suitcase has been packed for weeks, but. . . Dear God, you know I’ll never leave. I save my laundry for Saturdays, don’t tell him why I’m crying myself back to sleep, and check the fridge one last time for the right deli meat.
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Feb 4, 2015
Feb 4, 2015 at 4:14 PM UTC
Praying On Another Turkey Sandwich
I have to make him a turkey sandwich, crusts cut off, mayo on the left piece of bread, in two triangle halves every single night before he goes to sleep on the right side of the bed with two pillows, fluffed twice each, slippers tucked neatly underneath the bed skirt. And every night I wonder what would happen if I forgot the pickle on the side, like the one time we ran out of cheese and my car had a flat tire and the supermarket was so far, but boy did he give it to me. I’ve never seen someone count to one-hundred so fast with their finger taps before the table flipped. Never have I seen someone clean up glass so slowly, each piece thrown in the trash individually just like my pieces that have been carved away year after year, loaf after loaf, as my eyes droop backwards and rest on his haircut that I give every six weeks on a Wednesday. Sometimes, I try to kiss his neck when I let the scissors slip, but he always reminds me that this slot is “haircut time” and there’s no necessity in kissing anyway. And I’ve tried to respect his attic closet compartments with the key that had gone missing when he was fifteen, and I’ve tried to wish on misshapen pieces of cereal in my bowl because I’m that desperate for a miracle. Do you know? Do you know how hard it is to lie next to someone who you know doesn’t dream of you, not because he doesn’t want to, but because he can’t. He can’t do so many things and sometimes I’ll lay out a green tie on a workday instead of blue just to watch him blow up because at least that’s a feeling. At least that’s not white walls and another **** turkey sandwich. And I know that’s sinful, and I also know that I fold my hands wrong when I pray, but I’ve tried to shape him for years and all I’ve gotten is a cast with nothing to fill the mold. And I know my suitcase has been packed for weeks, but. . . Dear God, you know I’ll never leave. I save my laundry for Saturdays, don’t tell him why I’m crying myself back to sleep, and check the fridge one last time for the right deli meat.
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El día que me quieras tendrá más luz que junio; la noche que me quieras será de plenilunio, con notas de Beethoven vibrando en cada rayo sus inefables cosas, y habrá juntas más rosas que en todo el mes de mayo. Las fuentes cristalinas irán por las laderas saltando cristalinas el día que me quieras. El día que me quieras, los sotos escondidos resonarán arpegios nunca jamás oídos. Éxtasis de tus ojos, todas las primaveras que hubo y habrá en el mundo serán cuando me quieras. Cogidas de la mano cual rubias hermanitas, luciendo golas cándidas, irán las margaritas por montes y praderas, delante de tus pasos, el día que me quieras... Y si deshojas una, te dirá su inocente postrer pétalo blanco: ¡Apasionadamente! Al reventar el alba del día que me quieras, tendrán todos los tréboles cuatro hojas agoreras, y en el estanque, nido de gérmenes ignotos, florecerán las místicas corolas de los lotos. El día que me quieras será cada celaje ala maravillosa; cada arrebol, miraje de Las Mil y una Noches; cada brisa un cantar, cada árbol una lira, cada monte un altar. El día que me quieras, para nosotros dos cabrá en un solo beso la beatitud de Dios.
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1.8k
El día que me quieras
I've weighed the pranks: Pulling out a chair; Flooded fairways; Skunky beer; Onion candy apples; Mayo in cream-filled donuts; Lubricating jelly in handwash; Polyurethaning soap; Baking soda in ketchup bottles; Flushing while the shower's in use; Sending a welcome card on behalf of your friend to Kingdom Hall; Eliot was right, Snow in April is the cruelest.
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Apr 22, 2015
Apr 22, 2015 at 11:12 AM UTC
The Cruelest