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inggo Oct 2015
Una kitang narinig
Pero iba pala kapag naririnig at nasisilayan
Alam mo bang nakakakilig
Kahit yung kinakanta mo ay tungkol sa lokohan, kabiguan o kalungkutan

Ewan ko kung napansin mo akong tulala sayo
Habang kumakanta ka at may kaunting pangiti ngiti
Tignan mo gumawa ako ng tula para sayo
At yung puso ko tuloy palihim na tili ng tili

Pagkauwi ko galing sa Sev's Cafe
Di ko pa din malimutan yung oras na magpapapicture ako sayo
Muntik na akong di makagalaw at sumigaw ng mayday! mayday!
Nang sabihin **** "teka maglugay muna ako"

Hayaan mo na yung mga taong nasa kanta **** PAWS
Kung sakin lang araw araw ka sanang may rose
Lumipad man yung isa sayo palayo
Tayo naman ay tatakbo at lilibutin ang mundo

Pag nagkita tayo ulet ang sasabihin ko ay Hi Crush!
Kaya lang yung pisngi mo kaya ay mag blush?
Sabayan mo sana itong gusto kong kantahin
Mejo nirevise ko yung favorite part mo sa antukin

Eto na

Sasalubungin natin ang kinabukasan
Ng walang takot at pangamba
Tadhana'y merong tip na makapangyarihan
Kung ayaw may dahilan
Gusto kita kaya ginawan ng paraan
For karlen fajardo. Im a big fan hihi
alvin guanlao May 2013
piktyuran mo ako ng ganyan
bidyohan mo't mejo hubaran
dapat kita yung buong katawan
gawin natin ito sa ibat ibang paraan

galit ako sayo, dito tayo magaway
sa kita ng madaming tao ngunit di ni nanay at tatay
subukan niyong magcomment at kayo'y madadamay
gusto naming dito mag away at walang sasaway

dapat nilang makita ang aking agahan
dapat nilang makita ang aking tanghalian
dapat nilang makita ang aking hapunan
dapat ulit nilang makita ang aking hapunan
wag kayong maoffend, tula ko to, kung naooffend kayo, ******* ka
Butch Decatoria Jan 2017
The heavy dust from dry summers
selling Chiclets inside the rim of a sombrero

Tortured attire of a woolen rainbow
Poncho, pleading to appear a lowly vagabond

by an uncle who seeds alleyways,
Clothed in his tequila stench;

Instructed by an aunt, obese from endless
refried beans and Uno-Vision sopas.

“Chiclets! --at the top of your lungs, mejo!"
Louder as the weight of the dust devils possess

His voice : a squeaking version of itself,
Coughing at the same spot  in Tijuana’s

Miserable, the invisible, at market...
Dirt in his tears, no longer noticed, too often cried

There is no need to pretend how lowly
Or ***** his juvenile face has smeared;

A clown of earthen make-up, in misery’s portrait,
to example the tender, the precious,

have been left to pander to love, for sale.
A paradigm of angels, fallen with the truth;

Deep into this formidable fate in hell.
Here, he is not above the silence

But he must live in it, live to tell,
How wishes are often made without a well.
Butch Decatoria Jan 2021
In the heavy dust
from dry summers
selling Chiclets from inside the rim of a sombrero,

Tortured attire of a woolen rainbow
Poncho, pleading to appear a lowly vagabond

by an uncle who seeds alleyways,
Clothed in his tequila stench;

Instructed by an aunt, obese from endless
refried beans and Uno-Vision sopas.

“Chiclets! --at the top of your lungs, mejo!"
Louder as the weight of the dust devils possess

His voice : a squeaking version of itself,
Coughing at the same spot  in Tijuana’s

Les Miserables, the invisible, at market...
Dirt in his tears, no longer noticed, too often cried

There is no need to pretend how lowly
Or dinghy his juvenile face has smeared;

A clown of earthen make-up, in misery’s portrait,
to example the tender, the precious,

have been left to pander to love, for sale.
A paradigm of angels, fallen with the truth;

Deep in this formidable of fates, of hell...
Here, he is not above the silences,
but he must live in it, live to tell.

How wishes are often made without a well.
Revised

— The End —