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depict May 28
about the things?
Its the only thing missing
the velvets would not go into other countrys to ****! haha!
the first thing that happens is that the aulets go into the next flatter country- hell in bones.
the ones who saw the crimes are pretty lost in especially the oi modern societys

Only because we do not know where to put the beweise to which court
and only because the auaraum girlies just want to eat a cake.
I hate the Dosen-tussis. gate. now.
I hate you asitussis who you plan the scratching of ine.
nada
thorn on the vine
wine in the glass
undisturbed visage

spot on the sun
desert I wander
absence of water

love off the page
raging white fire
denuded flower
Luna Aug 2018
Tengo miedo a las alturas, a la noche oscura y al abandono.
Tengo 21 años y todavía creo en monstruos debajo de mi cama, quiero y no puedo cambiar patrones de mi vida que me hacen daño.
Me desvelo, no me hidrato, como mucho y fumo cada tanto, lloro porque si y por si acaso.
Te busco en rostros extraños y solitarios, en la escencia de los cactus, en aquella canción que una vez bailamos.
Todo parece congelado desde la soledad de mi cuarto.
w y n n e Nov 2016
18
Lahat naman tayo nakaramdam na ng lungkot
Lungkot na hindi mo alam kung saan nagmula
Lungkot na hindi mo alam kung ano ang dahilan
Lungkot na hindi mo alam kung ano ang kinahihinatnan
Pero ang pinaka-nakakalungkot sa lahat e yung puno ng tao sa isang kwarto
Puno ng tunog at salita
Puno ng biruan at tawanan
Pero ramdam **** maiiyak ka
Ramdam **** hindi ka nababagay sa lugar na naroon ka
Sa pagkakataong ito, hindi mo alam kung bakit hindi mo kayang makisali at magkunwaring masaya nalang
Kung sa mga nakaraang araw kinaya mo naman
Nakakapagod ano?
Nakakapagod magkunwaring masaya
Nakakapagod magkunwaring kaya mo pa
Pero alam naman natin
Eto yung pagod na hindi kayang gamutin ng pahinga
Eto yung pagod na hindi kayang idaan sa alak o ng yosi man lang
Eto yung pagod na hindi kayang idaan sa maghapong hilata sa kama
Eto yung pagod na hindi kayang gamutin o kahit dampi ng matinding menthol ng salonpas sa nangangalay na kasu-kasuan
Etong yung pagod na hindi kayang gamutin ng efficascent oil na suki ng buong pamilya
Eto yung pagod na dama ng kaibuturan at kaluluwa
Eto yung pagod na mahirap punan ng lunas kasi hindi mo alam kung bakit ang bigat sa pakiramdam
Iyong pag napabayaan o mali ang diagnosis mo e pwedeng lumikha ng sanga-sangangang maliit at mas komplikadong dahilan ng kapaguran
Kung pwede lang mapawi ang lungkot sa bawat malalim na buntong hininga ang ngalay na dama ng kaluluwa
Yung tuwang hatid damay lahat ng parte ng kabuuan
Isama mo pa pati yung sangkatutak na split ends mas lalo na ang mga pimples na ayaw kang lubayan
Alam ko,  pagod ka narin
Sadyang nakakapagod lang talagang gumising sa umagang walang kulay
Sa mundong malawak at mapaglaro
Sa mga tulang isinulat pero walang laman
Sa mga nasambit na salitang wala man lang naantig
Sa mga matang blanko na walang ningning
Sa mga patok na banat pero hindi naman nakinabang
Sa mga mensahe sa inbox na puro lang chain messages ang laman galing sa kakilala **** di na umahon sa pagiging jejemon
Sa mga text ni Baby aka 8888 na pinapaalala kang expired na pala ang iyong load pero syempre biro lang hindi ka naman nagpapaload, expired na pala sim mo kasi isang taon ka ng hindi nagpapaload
Talaga namang nakakapagod ang mundo
Minsan nga nakakagago
Itulog nalang natin 'to, ano?
Ayan tayo e, dinadaan sa tulog ang lahat
Pero malay mo nga naman, baka sakaling sa mahabang paglimot sa mundo, isang panaginip lang pala ang lahat ng sakit
Hindi lang siguro dahil tamad kaya natutulog pero eto na marahil yung senyales ng pagsuko sa laban
Sa pagpiling takasan panandalian ang buhay at baka sakaling sa panaginip matupad ang nais ng puso
Kasi sa totoong buhay ang hirap tanggapin ang bawat sampal ng pagkabigo
Yung bang dalawang klase ng pagkabigo
Yung todo bigay ka sa una pero bokya ka parin
At yung isa naman, yung natatakot ka ng sumunggab at tinikop ka na agad ng takot
Beterana na nga ata sa larangan ng pagiging olats
Nganga kung nganga
Nada kung nada
Itlog kung itlog
Pero hindi pa tapos ang kwento
Malayo pa ang lalakbayin
May natitira pa naman sigurong alas dyan na di pa naitataya
Positibo naman ako na sa negatibong sitwasyon makakaalpas din
Lahat naman ng bagay lumilipas, parang yung paboritong pantalon na sa kakasuot unti-unting kumukupas
Tulad ng chika ng karakter sa pinapanood kong korean nobela, Fighting daw!
Minsan may pakinabang din pala ang pagharap sa telebisyon sa ganitong pagkakataon
Ngayon, alas otso medya ng gabi sinusulat ang mga katagang nais ilabas ng puso
Habang wala pang tugon mula sa itaaas
Salamat sa oras na tibok ng puso
Kakapit muna ako kay Captain Yoo
Sa seryoso pero nakakakilig na ugali,
Sa swabe niyang mga the moves,
Sa grabehan niyang mga titig,
At sa mala-fairytale nilang storya,
Captain, ako nalang please!
Ang huling pagkapagod kong nais ireklamo
Siguro sa paghihintay na may isang Captain Yoo Shijin na darating, na kikiliti sa pagod kong puso at magbibigay ng rasong ipagpatuloy ang labang kinapusan na ng dahilan.
Luna Aug 2018
A la nada contemplo con el celular entre las manos.
a la nada contemplo con los ojos aguados.
a la nada contemplo con un te amo muerto incluso antes de pensarlo.
a la nada contemplo porque ya te has marchado.
a la nada contemplo mientras el reloj sigue marcando.
a la nada contemplo y hoy es mi cumpleaños.
a la contemplo y la nada le escribo porque es lo único seguro que tendré mientras respiro el aire intoxicado.
arubybluebird Jan 18
Tus dulces labios
Mis lágrimas amargas
El mar azul
La miel dorada
Tu mirada tierna
Tus pies descalzos
Semillas de granada
Luz de un nuevo amanecer
Calles anticuadas
Caricias delicadas

Todo sigue siendo igual,
Pero nada sabe lo mismo que ayer.
Saraswati Apr 2018
Pelipur datang menyapa Lara
"lihat aku" bisiknya,
ia datang tepat ketika Lara ingin mengalihkan mata
muak melihat Bara
"sini, ikut aku" bisiknya,
ia datang membawa nada
Lara ingin berdansa!

boleh kah?

"boleh!" teriaknya,
"dansa!" dansa hingga Pelipur menyatu dengan Lara,

menjadi sebuah asa,

bahagia
Dhiemas Jul 2018
Di suatu hari, lagi-lagi sepi menghampiri
Dengan gesanya ia datang merampas rasa tanpa aba-aba
Tinggal sunyi yang hadir di hati
Mengunci dan menyendiri dari sepi agar ia tak datang lagi.

Di kala hati jenuh dan penuh dengan rasa seru untuk bertemu sepi,
"Aku rela kau datang lagi, bila untuk buat ku merasa lagi".
Untai sang hati

Sepi pun tak lagi datang menghantui.
Karena kasih mendahului, dan membuat sunyi lebih berarti
Sunyi kelak menjadi rasa
Rasa yang tak akan lagi mengenal sepi.

"Siapakah dia?" Sepi bertanya.
"Ialah cinta, ialah yang membuat ku merasa" Hati mengujar.

Dan hati pun terisi dengan nada-nada yang dinyanyikan oleh cinta.
Rasa itu sejati dan tak kenal dengan mati.
T'was the night before Christmas, And at the back of the bar

Sat a man all alone, Lighting up a cigar

The waitress ran over and waving her hand

You can't do that here, Smoking is banned.

If you must smoke that thing, you can go to the street

And stay away from the building, by at least fifty feet

The man took a puff and with a voice like a croak

He said, "You're kidding, right miss? You're making a joke"

I'm sorry, but sir..I'm afraid that it's true

But the law is the law, and it's not only for you

That we must say **** out, please extinguish your smoke

So our place can be filled with other fine folk

For ninety two years I have walked on this earth,

I have broken no laws and you know what it's worth?

Bupkiss, no nada it's not worth a thing

Would that law still apply if I was a King?

I've been coming in here for 60 odd years

And I think I've consumed a truckload of beers

I've smoked in this corner on many a night

Now you say **** out, I don't think that's right.

I fought for this country at the end of the war

I came home with a war wound, and you know dear...what's more

I came to this bar to have drinks with my friends

Who all weren't so lucky and met terrible ends

They died on the beach, heart as big as a house

Taking on the unknown for their country, their spouse

They battled for honor, the right to be free

And they all weren't as lucky, to come home like me.

I was here in the sixities when Camelot died

I was here with my son, and we both sat and cried

It was that night in November, I remember it well

That my son said he'd joined up and was heading to hell

He had joined the marines and was all set to fight

For freedom and honor and he knew it was right

Because I'd gone before and stood with others like him

And I said just be safe, and come home son...my Jim

In the years he was gone, I came down here to think

Of why he was there and I shared smokes and drinks

With friends, all now gone from this world of distrust

Now they all lie beneath us, decomposed back to dust.

My son made it back and we came right down here

To spend time with our friends, both from far and from near.

The years passed us by and my grandson joined too

And we sat and we prayed in this bar, for we knew

He was fighting for freedom and the rights we hold dear

Like having some fun, over smokes and some beer.

He never came home from his war, don't you see

That's why we're sitting alone here, just you and me

Tonight is the night that his letter arrived

Saying "We regret to inform you...that no one survived"

So, each Christmas Eve I come back to this bar

To savor my memories and to drink from this jar

And I finish each year thinking of what now is gone,

Of my battle scarred boy and his now deceased son

Now, you come and tell me that I must go outside

To continue my smoking and so I'll abide

'cause for 92 years that I've been on this earth

I've broken no laws and you know what that's worth

Then the waitress reached back and she pulled out a match

From a box on the bar with a rusty old catch

She said Sir, I am sorry I didn't mean to offend

For this one night each year, the law I can bend

So please light one for me on this Christmas Eve Night

And Thank you from all who continue the fight.

Merry Christmas and HAPPY NEW YEAR 2019
A Christmas Eve Poem that was posted earlier, I have not added much, but, I think it is fitting to read so those of you who haven't seen my older works, and The Street Poems, may get a chance.
Victor Marques Nov 2014
Nascimento, vida e existência…

     Nascemos de uma forma sublime que parecendo uma banalidade natural é segundo o meu ponto de vista um milagre em todos os sentidos. Parece que o ventre da mulher foi feito e eleito o local divino para mostrar ao mundo a beleza do nascimento, vida e existência, comprometida com todos aqueles que tiveram o privilégio de um dia nascerem.
Nascemos, vivemos e existimos num planeta que procura respostas que não acha para uma imortalidade pedida a preceito em orações, congressos, ou aglomerações de seres que procuram nesta vida um culto a Deus que parece estar para caprichos e devaneios de tantos seres humanos que existem por existir.
Nascimento é vida e ao mesmo tempo uma existência comprometida com o universo que é gratuito para todos aqueles que conseguem perceber a magnitude da abundância que nos é dada com o nascimento, vida e existência.
     Nascemos nus sem nada para oferecer naquele preciso momento alegria a todos aqueles que parecem esperar um Messias salvador e apaziguador de corações por vezes divididos
e adulterados com vivências da  sua própria vida.
  - Que recompensa teremos nós depois de deixarmos de existir sob esta forma material que parece ser digna e ao mesmo tempo real?
-Será o nascimento o elo principal na vida, na existência e na morte?
- Será que Deus através da beleza e complexidade do nascimento quer mostrar ao homem através da sua existência a possibilidade de aspirar com a morte à ressurreição ou melhor a outra forma espiritual de continuar a existir?
- Será que não será mais fácil e rápida a morte do que o próprio nascimento?
     Nascemos, vivemos e existimos num planeta terra maravilhoso regido com mestria por um sábio infinito e Criador que sempre com precisão consegue dar ao ser humano deleites que irão perdurar na nossa vida até ao dia que depois de nascer, viver e existir morremos para ressuscitar no Amor Sublime de Deus nosso Pai.

Victor Marques
nascimento, vida e existência
RBWhite Jun 2018
Así,como la bruma del viento arenoso,
La sirena del desierto se despide,
Lo hace maldiciendo los recuerdos,
Sus caderas sinuosas,ojos claros,
Que una vez me imploraban piedad,
Y a la otra se resignaban al suplicio,
Me dejan para no volver,
Ella oye y baila sobre mis penas,
Cabellos de tormenta tropical,
Su voz tenáz y cruel,
No quiere que la siga,
Pero, ¿Cómo no?
Es lo único que he hecho,
Sus pasos son los propios,
Nunca ha habido diferencia,
Déjame entrar en tí una última vez,
Juro no hacerte llorar,
Ni abandonarte por el mar,
Aunque ya lo haya hecho,
Y me hayas perdonado cada vez,
Vuelve a mí, mi alma,
Sirena de mis mitos,
Crees en pecadores,
Pero nunca me pudiste perdonar,
He aquí un forastero sátiro,
Que no cree en nadie, ni en nada,
Pero consigue religión y sueños,
Cada vez que curas mis heridas,
Que me alimentas y acunas,
Que me enseñas y reprendes,
Que te entregas y me reclamas,
No conozco a más nadie,
¿Por qué irme?
Tengo a la muerte cerca,
Y quiero confesarme a tí,
Como lo he hecho constantemente,
Para escuchar tu dolor,
Hundirme en la miseria de no merecerte,
Eres mis ojos,
Eres mi sentir,
Sirena del amor,
Sirena dulce,
Sirena de la ternura invalorable,
Sirena de la melancolía,
Llévame contigo.
depict May 25
roses-- no--brrrr cold- snow.
nada
depict May 22
is not that which interests Society
instead they took my Money
for books or so.
I do not even get a doctor and shall feel guilty by a crime with heavy Hormon racist drugs

Went to Singapur yes stolen yes, swam with the women. Love you honey. Still alive?
Do not use germanaid. I would say or ask before what ahappened.
Anyone to inform me'
Was me who fell from the ceiling.
Was me against wall
Now Termin at Gericht by my ripper. killed already by anni zi
have the proofs yes

Send a package yes will it arrive PU?
nada
gabi Apr 25
si no fueras tan solapada te podría ayudar
¿no puedes ver que solo te quiero amar?
haciendote una estatua para que no te vieran
¿pero para que el arte sino para que lo aprecieran?

no quiero que esto se haga una disputa
pero conmigo eres tan muta
se que las emociones se hacen un tumulto
pero no significa que lo tienes que poner oculto

no coge una brigada saber lo que te hace sentir
y no quiero hacer nada sin tu consentir
pero perdoname por ser parcial
a la idea de saber
que en tu corazon va a pasar

enseñame el meollo de tus sentimientos
dime todos tus pensamientos
prometo que no me parescarán inmundicia
hazte una casa conmigo,
soy persona hospitalicia

asi viviremos en perfecta ternura
con una vida muy dura
llenas de emociones
compartiendonos afirmaciones
yeah ik spanish i did this for my class and tbh it was super fun (and kinda easy bc spanish is my first language) anyway hope u enjoyed! :D
~
sí se español hice esto por mi clase y de verdad fue bastante divertido (y facil por que el español es mi primer lenguaje) pues espero que les gusto! :D
Marco Raimondi May 2017
I

Queira a ter-te tal sacrifício impune à beleza
Desventurar no ofício da morte formosa
No rito estrangulado, no campo da destreza,
Pensamentos que julgo uma ilusão honrosa

Sob a lembrança dos antigos, arcaica proeza
Se medos sentimos dessa prática tão dolorosa,
Aquieta-se! A relva abaixo espera em sua frieza,
Para o pútrido sepulcro de uma luz ardorosa

Onde graça, cuja índole se esquiva,
Singram os raciocínios obscuros
De uma consciência a julgar-se viva

É o fim a tocar alma fugitiva,
A único respeito, tomar com acuro
Um fadário apagado de perspectivas

II

Ao meu semblante prefere-se o nada, diante das vãs venturas
Pois se é hábito e desconcerto sempre padecer,
Coerente é, por esses horrores, nunca me ater
Para que não lastime o infinito desta amargura

Esta angústia vazia que na miséria perdura
Sufocando meu espírito em sofrer,
Vede a todos dura sentença! É preferível já não ser,
Que fugir do fim que, em descrença, meu corpo procura

Se Dido no desalento, por Eneias, deixa vida,
Estou cá, em silêncio de alma desvarrida
A cessar aos vermes o que vivo eternamente

Em álgido lamento, pude cantar nesta partida,
Algumas rimas de mi'a face enlanguescida,
Em que pude prezar da morte seu beijo unicamente
jul Jun 2018
im declining,
deteriorating,
diminishing.
drowning.

i spent weeks fixated on only your happiness that i forgot to find my own.
i spent weeks wasting my words.
my feelings drained through an iv that which you have decided that you don't need anymore.
ripped from your veins, i drip onto the solid sheet vinyl flooring.
para ti. y ahora no soy nada.
i spent weeks craving your touch and while you let your words travel down my thighs, trickle down my tinted pink lips,
i imagined of what we could have been, now i imagine of what we were.
i spent weeks building kingdoms, placing our fantasies in citadels and while your voice lined the empty halls,
mine never seemed to echo along with yours.
now these walls are empty. they have crumbled at our feet, unable of resurrection.
i bathed in illusions and imagination was my drink.
now that i am sober, i realize.

para ti. y ahora no soy nada.
Since your "I'm sorry" seemed to prove flase, how am I supposed to believe that your "I love you" was genuine?
Nat Lipstadt Apr 18
~~~

“To exist is to change, to change is to mature, to mature is to go on creating oneself endlessly.”  Henri Bergson


well in that case,
I’m either the most immature teen here,
or Rip Van Winkle

the re-creation process is six, nearly seven,
decades long (you thot days, ha, no way),
can’t recall the last name
I called myself

the delving, the researching, the forgetting,
the fifty first dates of no short term memory,
the checkdown, throwback Thursday of
did I write that?

no recollect, the pretense of
prehensile strength to touch
you and me simultaneously
might, could be true,
if you claim I authored it,
ok with me and all that

life taught me this,
the one who oft  hangs around
very young kids
learns a lot,
and soon recognizes

maturity indeed endless
but not senseless
just a poem-of-the-day process

indeed

every sense says the minute difference
between this morning and this approaching midnight,
an opportunity to grow up, stand straighter, uprighter,
write down my failures one more time,
cause that is the sterling hallmark impressed upon
thyself, ourselves,
that is genuine maturity,
the courageous wisdom to start all over again

the clock has transgressed,
moving past
the 12:00am digits,
which for cause
makes me giddy,
it’s permission to write a new one,
of course,
maturely thinking I still got one within,
a newbie, an aged day-old brand new baby,
a poem,
of course

god bless, I’m all grown n’ growled up,
with wisdom to know I don’t got nada,
but own the immature youthful courage of maturity,
to keep on trying, endlessly,
being your obedient-servant
~~~

p.s. this is kind of love poem of thanksgivings,
a love poem with no misgivings,
a thank you for the fragments of sharing -
hold so dear,
the best reason to mature,
the best reason to change,
the best reason to write
right now, here comes the mojo
my newest oldest friend,
reminding for the last and first time

that I’m all growed,
using the bigliest words I’ve known
to say baby, hey baby,
good night good morning
write us a poem,
a thank you note,
from one who blessedly forgets his name,
day in and year out


For that guy,
you, that ancient kid,
That poet-in-retrograde

so rewrite the title, a refresh,
are you immature enough to write?

1:12am

~for the crew~
Othon Apr 1
Aos umbrais de uma eterna verdade
Morremos dispersos batendo em suas grades
Pois voamos estendidos na liberdade
De ser e pertencer, à nada

Oh, eterna maldade, eterna insanidade
Aqui se veste como uma coroa de espinho a verdade!
Matamos os seus demônios
Mas seu inferno ainda nos vem assombrar

Queriamos ter paz de sucumbir ao delírio
De uma nova verdade, como o nascer de um lírio
Pelo jardim de nossos pensamentos
Sempre novos, sempre mais sombrios, sempre mais clarividentes
O que nos dará o direito de criar e ser, absolutamente?

Somos clementes, desarraigados do universo
Mas por sua realidade açoitado!
Não temos palavras para nossa lira e nosso verso
Entretanto caminhamos entre deuses e deuses
Daqueles que veem, sentem e pensam!
Pudiera ser como el viento en la arena
Que se mete entre las vidas fragmentarias de concha, roca, y crustáceo
Y las carga en sus brazos a otros lados del mundo
Pudiera ser como la lluvia que moldea las caras de las montañas
Un ojo aquí y una lagrima allá
Pero no soy nada
No soy nada y el viento lo sabe
Y baja su cabeza, resignado
La luna me mira con ojos tristes
Las flores de Maria me tienen en su círculo eterno
Y cada día que pasa se me muere el alma
¿Y a donde va?
¿En donde andará?
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