"samar" poems
Mahigit pitumpu't limang porsyento
Niyurak ng matinding alon
Walang awa ang haplos
Ang yapos na nakagigimbal
Kinitil hindi lamang ang buhay
Gayundin ang hanapbuhay.
Ni hindi masisid ang perlas
Na ngayong may takip sa ibabaw
Nabibilang ang lumalangoy
Kaawa-awang gambalain
At hablutin sa laot nang walang muang
Ngunit anong siyang magiging sapit?
Kung sila'y hahayaang hindi nakagapos?
At doon sa lambat ay patitiwarakin.
Tinaguriang "No Build Zone"
Ngunit naroon nakatirik ang bawat pundasyon
Walang opsyon, pagkat ang gobyerno
Kaytagal din nang pag-aksyon.
Mula sa libu-libong tirahan sa Tent City
Sila'y lilisan patungong Bunk House
Transitional Shelter kuno
Hanggang sa malipat
At magkaroon ng panibagong tirahan.
Doon sa Tacloban,
May dalawang daan at apatnapu't anim na tirahan
Bagkus ang nakalilim, apat na libong pamilya naman.
Salamat sa mga NGOs
Sa 9181 na Bunk House
Sa gobyernong dapat na kikilos
Kailan ba sisimulan ang pagbabago?
Walong libong pabahay raw ang ginagawa
167 bilyon ang budget,
Saan nga ba napunta?
Ito ba'y binulsa?
Comprehensive Rehabilitation Plan kung tinagurian
Kay bango ng ngalan
Bagkus umaalingasaw ang baho
Ang kasiraan, ang kawalan ng aksyon
Para sa bawat mamamayan.
Sa dakong Guian, Eastern Samar
Tatlong daang permanenteng pabahay raw
Ngunit ni isang pundasyon ng naturang pabahay
Tila naglaho pa rin ni Yolanda
At walang bakas na pasisimulan.
Sabi ni Pnoy, malinaw raw ang target
Pero hanggang target na mga lang ba?
Kailan ba sisimulan ang tuwid na daan?
Baka naman baku-bako na
Wala man lang pasabi sa kinauukulan.
Kung ang hustisya'y hindi matugunan
Sana ang kalamnan ng bawat biktima'y
Syang agapang mapunan
Kaawa-awa silang naghihikahos.
Ang laki ng tulong ng mga karatig-bansa
Ba't tila walang pakialam?
Kayong mga nasa trono,
Tayuan ang posisyon
At serbisyo'y gawin nang totoo.
Nov 8, 2014
Nov 8, 2014 at 10:44 AM UTC
Palembang, 28 Juni 2012
Haruskah kita percaya pada mimpi?
Jika sebelum tidur malam tak bersahabat
Arah kanan atau kiri tak berlaku lagi
Dan mata yang tertutup tak benar-benar tidur
Haruskah kita tersenyum ketika bangun di pagi hari?
Mengingat mimpi semalam yang amat indah
Yang membawa harapan
Menjadi pikiran hingga malam selanjutnya
Haruskah kita menggapai mimpi itu?
Mimpi yang samar dan semu
Mimpi, pembawa harapan palsu
Apakah “Raihlah Mimpimu” masih berlaku?
Jul 6, 2012
Jul 6, 2012 at 9:05 PM UTC
Consider a bee
while the sunbeams dance on a bench in front of a melting clock
Consider a bee
while the cradling mankind sees a gun under the pillow and feels safe.
The dust of the soul,
the soul dusts away
The bee
buzzzzzzzzzzzz
Interrupts a series of copulations
and a run across the industrial lawn
buzzzzzzz
The sacrifice
of a fat lobster named eternal consciousness
garlic sliced bread & a fear of a thing
as per the given prescription?
am I right?
I have no more time for such nonsense,
Consider a bee
5 more minutes, a 90-degree angle, you are dead.
- Samar Charulingah Godfrey
Oct 5, 2018
Oct 5, 2018 at 3:11 PM UTC
In a graveyard by
a temple of maniacs
I dream to hold
your crippled hand
and cremate
my starving soul
in the space
between
the approval of your graceful thighs...
-Samar Charulingah Godfrey
Oct 5, 2018
Oct 5, 2018 at 3:11 PM UTC
Soft driven
sudden fear
I'm getting out of here!
Please don't chase me tonight
because
it's alright...
- Samar Charulingah Godfrey
Oct 5, 2018
Oct 5, 2018 at 3:27 PM UTC
Honesty
Is a thing to be cared
To be nurtured and to be loved
And to be seeded around
It is a blissful umbrella
That covers you from rough sunshine
It makes a man
A true human
And himself a moral story
Honesty is a virtue
virtue is morality
In his ***** it blooms
And samar ripens for generations
Apr 11, 2014
Apr 11, 2014 at 1:30 PM UTC
Paint a tree and a
telephone.
Paint a rabbit
changing its burrow.
Paint rabbit's sweet little
family.
Paint their poo strung together like a necklace.
Make it stink.
Now,
Paint your mother
trying to hide
in the same burrow.
**** the rabbit!
paint a box
&
bury the dead rabbit inside...
- Samar Charulingah Godfrey
Nov 4, 2018
Nov 4, 2018 at 2:16 PM UTC
I sit by the window
In absent mindedness
Speaker of the so-called
grey crested emotions.
No more wine?
No more dead birds?
as happy as the outer space
as poor as my manhood.
I sit by the window
and
I touch you in the night
Like the hero of your dream
Prosecuted and paralyzed
by the hallowed love
I touch you cold,
tell me,
how close is this to a lipless grin? .
- Samar Charulingah Godfrey
Oct 5, 2018
Oct 5, 2018 at 3:02 PM UTC
Black and yellow heart breaks,
dangerous knife throws and the empty bombs,
full of ;
Laughter,
Gambling,
Recognition,
Divorce.
Here comes the faceless man,
Pleased by her stretched thighs, the sweaty cigarettes she burns one after another & her thick eyes,
He says
"I want you to look ugly"
"Is that a fantasy?" she asks
"Yes," he says, "it's been a thousand years,
thirty-minute hands & 60 pills!"
"Ooooh"
"Look," he says, "I want you to set me on fire, now!" & takes a **** in an art museum behind a Picasso masterpiece.
"All right," she says, "let's wait for a while, come on back to bed!"
The faceless man instantly crawls towards a dry quiet kiss where innocence and vulgarity both are so awkwardly present...
- Samar Charulingah Godfrey
Oct 13, 2018
Oct 13, 2018 at 2:39 PM UTC
mila sedi na wc solji. prebira dlacice po brezuljku. nekako odvratno ali radoznalo trazi one pod zemljom
gusto groblje-guste misli:
dve prodavacice prodaju sok od sargarepe, na smenu- jedan dan jednoj plati jednu cenu drugi dan drugoj drugu. cuti. zakopa to u zeludac. guta vazduh namazan budalom. cuti. plati. popije samar i sok.
na ulici razmazano oker govno, kao kanapei na srebrnom tanjiru.
preskace, obilazi ga ona. preskace, obilazi ga i pas. kisa pada, oker krem gubi gustinu, pas nece pod kisobran juri senke i zapisava skupocene alo tepsije onih kojih se i pauk plasi.
zanoktica o vrh narandzastog jezika- rekapitulacija popisanosti i pogresno usmerene finoce. krv stedljivo iz nokta curi natapajuci nepce a mrmlja da sledeci put ce...
ali verovatno nece. jer ne razume tu gadnu nepravicnost. jer to je samo princip. mozda i hoce. jer princip je i sve.
dopire krik playback narodnjaka- komsija stigao sa posla, investitor umesto izloacije sigurno je kupio dzipa.
masina se centrifugom lansira u orbitu svake sekunde- privezala bi se za nju toaltet papirom....
aman, idi uci.
bolje ces se osecati.
kraj prozora cuje se ono dete sto svira trubu.
makar jos ne moras da trazis posao. eto imas vremena da smislis sta zelis da budes.
na kraju krajeva nemas urasle dlake. i da, auto ti je parkiran divlje pokupice ga pauk sigurno. i nemas dozvolu. kese za govna su u gepeku.
trebas psa izvesti.
sutra kupices sok od sargarepe, po ne zna se kojoj ceni.
rekla bi imas princip a i lenja si.
Feb 5, 2015
Feb 5, 2015 at 4:01 AM UTC
I heard of a shamaness
who cures dogma
lays off documents
on the coast
of her ******
swings her liberty torch!
and puts on a red cloth.
Her ******* like
speechless
fragile animals
Eyes like poison wells
across the
grand brows
and her smell wrapped
in a burnt sleep
for
ten thousand years.
She cures dogma!
I smoke too much
I dream of an explosion of the silver forests and
I want to fall as beautifully as the ballads tell,
I have held my breath and now I'm entering the coast of her ******
- Samar Charulingah Godfrey
Oct 5, 2018
Oct 5, 2018 at 3:03 PM UTC
You Egyptian hipstress
philosophically diggin’ through this
world to find a life to live with.
Your summer breeze
metaphorically testing & caressing me
--keep questioning
don’t ever stop, please,
trust me
it’s endearing
and steadfast.
Hearing your voice
my mind rejoices
synapses electrocute my brain
& the fire in your voice
rises, burning, pulsing
hypnotic sonar warming my
soul…
yet you’re impulsively young, still trying
to find the right air to breathe;
via singing artistic gypsy
dominating submissives
yet pondering above your
third eye
burning,
warming,
heating—vividly alive
within your eyes
is intriguing
yet deep down
your rising
embers pop!
Your body dances
sway—shaking—swaying
burning ancient questions
in the earth
but forgetting
what the fuse
is connected to….
find the fuse
May 13, 2012
May 13, 2012 at 9:47 PM UTC
President of the Republic of Germany's Presidential
Security Council President 150 (1973) (5) President.
This operation and her long legs in the stomach
of horses. This is very clear, especially
in Latin America, Europe, Russia and Spain,
and in Canada, the prostitutes and dogs
are essential for Mexico. 1, What are you doing?
According to Adam Clark, women in the São Samar
and all the Yogis are women, women
and children in Africa, Asia and South America,
Germany and England, Gilbert and George.
In the United States, Russia is good. Americans
want to live in Canada, and Great Britain.
About two thirds of Catholics in San Francisco,
China, Russia, South Korea, and the USA.
Then I'll enter the dogs. Type of songs not written 1.
Latin American products in Latin America.
Spain, Wales, bull by Alice. From the foundation
of the world, he was born in the largest area
of the world to study and study John's leaders.
I said. Out of control. There is no competition.
France, on the second day. In addition
to the prostitutes and the elderly Muslims,
in the windows they are given comfort
in adultery. Many companies in Jamaica
can express their feelings to Guinea.
These are green geese. His mother Mattie.
So Georgia. (5) It is important to add
the 1292 standard modes in the message,
and a TV show is found. Asian countries
in the Americas and Africa, African and Latin
American prostitutes, from Germany, Yugoslavia,
Denmark, prostitutes and more prostitutes.
Vegetables. In a comedy, Oustiin's family
are prostitutes and prostitutes; Within 150 hours
in the city, United Nations Security Council
(5), 1973 (1973), Executive Director (5).
The information is contained in the robot
robot center. Open the next part of the tree.
I also said in Pittsburgh: "You are not listening
to me,
as a ********** 1, a maid and a horse." This list
is incomplete. In the United States, Europe,
Russia, Spain, Canada and European slums,
old and advanced technologies. The items returned
to the Swiss Express Pond were from the port.
Of course, like a dog and others.
Prison or Russian court? There are many
benefits to Giza the Robot and Sarah
Barrow in the Middle Valley 2 to 2, 2.
In the Middle East, there are many benefits
for the team and many others. The fish
in the grass. There are waters in Latin
America, West Africa, Asia, the Congo,
England, Germany, and Assisi, which
are collected on the moon along
with different cultures of different breeds.
Nov 27, 2018
Nov 27, 2018 at 9:13 PM UTC
A beautiful white cat
sits on a
perfect piece of
***
and shows no interest both,
in the seduction
and the composition
of the
post *** zone
I think of it,
as the
possible future element...
- Samar Charulingah Godfrey
Oct 9, 2018
Oct 9, 2018 at 3:05 PM UTC
I was allowed to visit back home
whenever he wanted me to
adoption’s only condition
agreed to by Mama Julia
when I was about seven years old
Father and my older sister Coring
arrived unannounced
traveling in a boat he made himself
bringing gifts of large dried fish
small salted fish
green edible seaweed called, “latu”
and ceramic pots made by Mother
Father had never been to Carigara
but found the house with no trouble
everyone knew the Tranis
they directed him to the big house
called, “Tiha”
three stories
a tiled terracotta roof
coconut trees
sweet, fragrant yellow bananas
Mama Julia was away in Manila
old folks hesitated in her absence
fearing Father might keep me
they asked that he leave my older sister
to ensure my return
Father agreed
a very old friend accompanied Father
to sell her handmade pottery
very friendly
with messy white hair
and only one front tooth
her name was Reyang
they spent the night at Tiha
planning to leave early with me
but Apoy Reyang got drunk
from the tuba* Father brought
she went out into the street
walking and talking to herself
my friends told me later they liked the old lady
speaking wildly like a witch
we feared stories of bad witches
who snatched little kids
but no one ever actually saw one
so they were glad to see
a real live old witch
who wasn’t scary at all
they thought she was my grandma
actually envying me
for the nice witch in my family
Father built a mast in the middle of his banca
outriggers on both sides
were made of bamboo poles
lashed together with rope
sailing back to Guintarcan
he brought food to snack on
when wind stirred
Father raised sail
to make the boat go faster
when it was calm
he wrapped the sail on the mast
and used the paddle
I liked it when Father asked me
to hold something for him
but he spoke in a Samar dialect
when he realized I couldn’t understand him
he rephrased it the Carigara way
a perfect day
sea was calm
sky cloudless
I reached down to feel the cool, clear water
rush against my open hand
when the boat was moving faster
increased pressure on my palm was pleasing
I was happy and excited for the chance
to visit with family
but this adventure’s biggest thrill was simply:
my Father came for me
*coconut wine
Jul 5, 2014
Jul 5, 2014 at 11:46 PM UTC
My eyes are
burnt.
I don't pray
to those
few
high school gods.
I betray the
teachings of my mother.
I pull out of
my pocket
a pack of cigarettes.
my silence is
lost.
I talk like antibiotics,
but
tell me
can I still feast in an abnormal modesty?
-Samar Charulingah Godfrey
Oct 9, 2018
Oct 9, 2018 at 3:03 PM UTC
In to this furnace
I ask you now
to sing another song.
In to this furnace,
where the stars grow old
and the dreamers walk barefoot
I ask you now
to kiss me a thousand times.
In to this furnace
I ask you now
thought by thought
let us die
you and I.
In to this furnace
I ask you now...
- Samar Charulingah Godfrey
Nov 4, 2018
Nov 4, 2018 at 2:20 PM UTC
Children standing in midair,
a person somehow wrong,
orders a bag of a cooked subconscious.
Shakes it gently,
unaware of the destruction wrought by rationalism.
A dog reading a book demands doctrinal allegiance.
A writer identifying the wrongs dies in a hypnotic trans-like state...
- Samar Charulingah Godfrey
Nov 4, 2018
Nov 4, 2018 at 2:18 PM UTC
Radar itu berupa debar;
Samar samar pendeteksi dini sebuah potensi akan jatuh hati.
May 14, 2018
May 14, 2018 at 4:40 AM UTC
Jikalau bisa
Aku ingin menuliskan untukmu sebuah puisi cinta
Tiap baitnya kupetik dari bunga-bunga layu sebelum mekar
Tiap sajaknya sendu layaknya angsana musim gugur
Dan kaupun akan bertanya "cinta apakah ini begitu menyiksa?"
Tanyakan pada nyanyian malam
Yang dilantunkan angin membelai rambutmu
Yang melukis garis wajahmu selembut sinar rembulan
Yang mangecap dingin kening dan bibirmu
Tanyakan pada rintik hujan
Yang menemanimu melewati sore
Yang mengajarimu melupakan malam
Yang membawakanmu aroma hangat padang seberang, degup berdebar dari sela-sela ilalang.
Rayulah bulan dan bawalah pulang
Renggutlah cahaya terakhir milik sang malam
Sembunyikan untaian puisinya yang sepekat hatimu,
Rangkaian kisahnya yang sehitam langitmu
Namun malam tak perlu bulan
Ketika seribu lilin berpendar sendu
Samar melampiaskan jingga
Menyala atas bara apimu
Jul 7, 2018
Jul 7, 2018 at 2:09 AM UTC
There is this
ancient friendship
between
our souls and destruction,
and in between
lies a tasteless,
mysteriously giant
mother ******* waterfall
scattered like a suicide!
&
You all are,
You all are standing,
tragically cold,
freezing like a dead rabbit and
stationary, like that one undernourished artificial snake,
whipped from time to time.
Do you now dare to make the jump?
to break on through the other side?
- Samar Charulingah Godfrey
Nov 4, 2018
Nov 4, 2018 at 2:22 PM UTC
Mendegar mereka diantara dua ucapan
Tersebar panjang sebuah harapan
Seperti getaran tanpa celah
Membiarkan hilang dalam naungan
Pada halaman konstelasi
Mereka mengisyaratkan
Gerak gerik sebuah keinginan
Dipenuhi kecemasan
Dan cerita belum terbaca
Mereka membisik
Terdengar samar
Menunjukan cara untuk hidup
Menunjukan aku ada tanpa tujuan
Kepada si pendengar
Si pendengar kisah dua dunia
Jul 20, 2019
Jul 20, 2019 at 4:04 AM UTC
If only I could give her
a rocket ship, the silent balcony & a mirrored box of golden cigarettes
If only I could give her more,
Will you come out then?
Will you?
If only I could penetrate
her frisky eardrum, her brown eyes beneath the crest of her strange empire
If only I could give her more,
my dear heart
Will you come out then?
If only I could watch
a falcon on her wrist
If only I could challenge her ******* for a duel
If only I could wrap myself in her scarlet flesh,
my dear heart
Will you come out then?
Will you shine?
If only I could give her more...
- Samar Charulingah Godfrey
Oct 11, 2018
Oct 11, 2018 at 9:14 AM UTC
the cold smile of a
fragmented mouth &
a field of cotton
defying the god's ordinance.
Desperate visions of
flushed faces and
dreams of Hiroshima
breathing its own breath.
One crow after another,
dancing down the
old spiral stairs of poverty.
Roasted along with
regular cheese
and
with an ounce of crippled green peas!
A vegan in disguise
trembling like a cooking egg!
- Samar Charulingah Godfrey
Oct 23, 2018
Oct 23, 2018 at 9:11 AM UTC