Seatmate poems on Hello Poetry

Angela Mercado Oct 2015

Bakit 'di pa tanungin
ang aking ngala't numero
at 'di lang ang petsa't
anong sinabi ng ****?

Bakit 'di pa alamin
ang pintig ng puso kong
inip na inip
nang maghintay sa iyo?

Bakit hanggang tingin?
Bakit hanggang ngiti?
Aking pag-ibig,
sinta, batid
mo na ba rin?

Bakit umiiwas;
bakit natatahimik -
bakit sa tuwina'y
lagi kang walang imik?

Para kay seatmate
na 'di ako pansin.
'Di mabatid,
'di mabalingan ng tingin.

'Di mo ba alam na sa bawat
wanfort na ihinihingi
*ay naitatangay nang utay-utay
ang aking puso't damdamin?

more over callherangela.tumblr.com

#love #poem #ink #spilled #filipino #tagalog #tula #pag-ibig

Jenn Coke Jun 2016

He Is My “Mate”

He was never my classmate,
Neither was he my schoolmate,
As we have met on OkCupid,
Which is where we got suited.

He soon became my tablemate,
Then got promoted to bedmate,
Ranging from late-night nosh
To some naughty oh-my-gosh.

He was my almost-roommate,
Now, a hopeful housemate,
Since he would visit me daily
And keep me company gaily.

He was frequently my seatmate,
As well as invaluable playmate,
For we traveled places together
And cloyingly wrestled each other.

He has always been my helpmate,
And is presently my best teammate,
As he has cheered me up from afar,
As we chat as if there is no au revoir.

He will one day become my inmate,
Plus my hard-working workmate,
Since we will both have mini-me’s
Forcing us to slog away on our knees.

He is undoubtedly my soulmate,
One who is to become my lifemate,
For he is a romantic yet **** geek,
A keeper with charms all too unique.

#geek #romantic #mate #soulmate #keeper #roommate #okcupid #teammate

Nat Lipstadt Mar 2015

Endless Short Love Story Bus Poems / The First Misstep is the Best

oft on bus seated next,
every one of your senses
adjusting, modulating,
to her unpredictable
solar flaring

you don't ever risk
that first missing
           misstep,
your entirety is
sun bursted
        (un)/consumed
in unhappy joy of her
consuming presence

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

you laugh
years later
re the topic of
your first shaky
foot in the mouth
a classic misstep
first bow shot,
opening one liner

and each storied retelling
is nature!s
snow and rain
refilling
the love of your
groundwater table
welling up

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

you love her scent
the silly hats she wears,
her short skirts arouse,
that last open button
a misstep invitation,
angry it incenses,
her every solitary everything is
incense,
pervading a daily
co-riding
passenger's
oxygen? starved soul

~~~~~~~~~

her umbrella is a wet
selfie stick
accidentally opening and dousing
an un random next door
seatmate

just another unlucky misstep for
someone sitting next store,
oil on the fire of
happily ever after

two selfies are last seen as
one
un selfishly
toweling each other off and
on
with wet kisses

~~~~~~~~~~~

you eavesdrop on her
earbud music,
weep internally you do with
crazed jealously

The Temptations
are so unfairly
singing to her
"Ain't to Proud to Beg"
and neither are you

you heart is misstepping
to every beat,
your fingers
thrumming,
you idiot, not quietly enough
humming
in the next seat

the first,
will not be
the last

smile exchanged

~~~~~~~~~~~~~

poem writing on the tablet,
amidst the groaning awful
no moving
city traffic

overheated bus
combustible with
winter snow dampness,
wet dog sweat smelling people clothes

all you want to do is get home
shower off
the daily dirt

the poetry writing pastime
is the place
where you put yourself
to better to pass over
your sour surroundings

her finger rattlesnakes,
misstepping over,
noisily invading,
the invisible boundary
constructed to hold up the
eye-averting
Keep Out sign
to momentary,
too neighborly
strangers

her red painted
pointer finger
smudge prints on your tablet,
accompanied with
bespoke words
"try this"

that smudge suggestion
won't come off

insisting on crediting
a shared authorship,
you ask for her
email and cell,
so you can share
her
forever

co jointed tangled
bus and bed sheet first efforts
on writing, all about
what you play~argue
what should your entitled poem
be titled

you think

endless short love story bus poems

but she prefers,
with red fingers persuading

the first misstep is the best

both see the merit
in each other

I love this poem. I do.

Lyrics to "Ain't to Proud to Beg"

I know you wanna leave me,
but I refuse to let you go
If I have to beg and plead for your sympathy,
I don't mind coz' you mean that much to me

Ain't too proud to beg, sweet darlin
Please don't leave me girl, don't you go
Ain't to proud to plead, baby, baby
Please don't leave me, girl, don't you go

Now I heard a cryin' man,
is half a man with no sense of pride
But if I have to cry to keep you,
I don't mind weepin' if it'll keep you by my side

Ain't to proud to beg, sweet darlin
Please don't leave me girl, don't you go
Ain't to proud to plead, baby, baby
Please don't leave me girl, don't you go

If I have to sleep on your doorstep
all night and day just to keep you from walkin' away
let your friends laugh, even this I can stand
cause I want to keep you any way I can

Ain't too proud to beg, sweet darlin'
Please don't leave me girl, don't you go
Ain't to proud to plead, baby, baby
Please don't leave me girl, don't you go

Now I've gotta love so deep in the pit of my heart
And each day it grows more and more
I'm not ashamed to come and plead to you baby
If pleadin' keeps you from walkin' out that door

Ain't too proud to beg, you know it sweet darlin'
Please don't leave me girl, don't you go
Ain't to proud to plead, baby, baby
Please don't leave me girl, don't you go
Baby, baby, baby, baby (sweet darling)

Aira Nov 2014

Crushed

Today at Chemistry
I saw your face again
My eyes followed you
As you walk down with a friend

You settled at your seat
And I blushed without you knowing
So I tried to suppress a smile
To hide what I am really feeling

Your seatmate called my name
And I had a reason to look back
It feels so great to stare at you
So I almost began to crack

But as I began to talk to her
You interrupt me and I almost died
Though it seem to be exaggerated
That's really what I felt inside

Oh baby, it's like a piece of heaven
For I haven't imagined that you know me as well
You asked me about the composition of ether
And I was glad 'coz I knew what to tell

The next day I won't forget
I'm sure you'll talk with me today
But As you walk past to me
The glow on my face went astray

I wondered if you had an amnesia
So I glanced back to you again
The pain won't even fade with an anesthesia
Coz I realized that **you don't remember me at all

Notes (optional)

#pain #sadness #crush #crushed

jerely Aug 2013

Conversation

I'm happy not because i met you again
But i'm happy cause it get backs to
The old times
A simple way
Of conversation
Like we did before!!!
And
I
Really
Hope
The
Plans
Would
Go
Smoothly
Cause
I
Know
You
Are
The
Coolest
Person
I've
Ever
Known
And
The
Funny
Person
That
I
Know
My
Beloved,
Seatmate
And
Closest
To
My
Heart

=)
Lalala
August 4, 2013

Rose Ruminations Sep 2015

Baggage

Today I unpacked.
I unzipped the memories
And let them ease past
The edges of the suitcase.
I picked them up
Shook them out
Cradled them close
And took a carnal sniff
Of the rough cedar scent
Of heaven
And opportunities lived to the full.

Today I glow
With my secrets
Flickering like tea candles
In a dimly lit jazz bar

Inevitably
He lingers there
In the soft sultry light
There
And not there
The ghost of a person
Swaying to the music
And staring into my soul:
Too spectacular to be real.
He is the road less traveled
Winding and twisting his way through my head
So I can’t find where the stories begin
And he ends

I try to explain
But stories are shooting stars
Staring out bright and trailing off
As I realize I live in the present
While his memories spark and fizzle like pop rocks
Punching my taste buds with a shock of sweet.

He is:
A quest for a perfect seat in the coffee shop
Holding hands in a small theater
Stolen kisses on the sidewalk
Dances without music
A skyline in sunset
And a tearful goodbye
As I got on the train.

I said I was fine.

I lied.

Desperately holding myself together
I dragged my bag
Through a maze of stations
Past the cautious scrutiny of uniforms
And onto the sterility of the plane
Thank God for windows:
Loss is staring out them.
Leaving him behind
Pretending you’re not dying
As your seatmate politely ignores your sobs

For James

#relationships #lostlove #travel #breakups #goodbyes

Amelia Robin Oct 2017

THAT THING CALLED “K”

Sometimes I am thinking what if you did not become my seatmate
What if I let myself drowned in my own belief of life and never encountered you anyway
Could it become less painful for me?
How you slapped on my face that I was nothing
But here I am with nothing but a plead
Foolishly hope that it could be you and me
Lasted for more or less couple of years
How could it made so restless and weak?

I guess poetry speaks to the immediate wound
The kind of wound that I myself never imagined to be my first genuine woe
Running through my mind's tunnel straight down to my heart
Both battling to win over from each other for quite a time now
But rightful enough to make me tough
Prudent enough to thwart my bluff
Grasping it as a part of life to be learned with might and thump.

Right now, I am just happy, satisfied enough of what we had
Even what we could have had and can  no longer have was the best thing I have never had
For I know better now than the last time you left me hanging with just your cold breathing
This time as I open my heart of being loved than to only love
My heart feels warm and flying

Breeding hope that I could be happier than I used to be
Because finally I set myself free
Breaking free from you whom I never thought would teach me this thing, that thing;
That thing called “katangahan”.

As Sarah Kay and Philip Kaye would say,
I would also like to say to the person who never gave the love that I deserve,
“Thank you for stopping by.”

was originally written 2-3 years ago if my memory serves me right, and has been revalidated just now upon publishing it in public

#perhaps #unrequited #love

Cherdaphne Angel Jul 2017

When I was a kid

I remember the days
when everything is just so innocent.

When I need to get some breast milk,
I cry.

When someone makes funny faces
and stick their tongue out their mouth,
I laugh.

Everything is as simple.
Not a word meant another.
It is as it is.

It just so happened that as I grow up,
everything turned out to be so complicated.

When I was a kid,
***** meant cat.
And now I see cat faces printed in front of *******, in women’s lingerie, in bikinis.
I see it being sold online as I scroll in my twitter account.
If ***** was a tourist attraction, it would probably be much visited than Disneyland.

When I was a kid,
***** was a female dog.
And now, everyone turns out to be one.
Go on! Laugh out loudly!
Instead of saying “Hi!”, we say, “Hey *****! Wassup?”
Not that it is meant literally,
it just seems to be a part of our language now;
an expression.

When I was a kid,
**** was a name and BJ was a nickname.
Oh come on, you already know what that means.
But for those who don’t, just look at your seatmate’s…
Uhhh… nevermind.

When I was a kid,
***** was a nut.
And now, it is censored when it is said in movies.
Toot you!
And it was just “***** you!”

When I was a kid,

Bang was a sound,

Rubber was like plastic,

*** was an animal,

*** was a snack.

All of which sounds so pervy now.

I work with words all day.
Is it the words or us who change?

Words seem so nasty now.
Inappropriate to say.

And I wouldn’t be shocked to know that during a Mathematics class in a 4-walled room at the 2nd floor of that building next to us,
The teacher asked, “What are sets?”
S-E-T-S
A student, a 7th grader undoubtedly raised his hand, stood up and answered, “******* po.”

And I knew that even the wrong meaning fits the wrong word.
That even the youngsters are already exposed to those words.

When I was in 7th grade,
sets meant a collection of elements.

When I was a kid,
*** meant gender.

spoken word poetry

#innocence

ce-walalang Feb 2021

sounds i <3

...the morning tv
...when your phone and your earphones connect
...mr. cardiff singing, i carry your heart in my heart sung with every song
...the opening line of your favorite radio show

...your mispronounced name
...everything on mute each time you have coffee
...your hands typing
...your seatmate laughing

...all the steps you take on your afternoon walk
...the moment the day gives way to the night
...thought bubbles on your evening commute
...your eyes closing.

on days you want to tune out but you have to keep listening

#sounds

Joseph Zenieh May 2020

PASSENGERS OF TIME TRAIN

PASSENGERS OF TIME TRAIN
The olden time came back to me
When l was reading Shakespeare.
The crowds were at the outer gate
and he was pleased on his old stage.

He wanted larger crowds to come
as he desired more income.
He did not see how years elapsed;
his eyes and mind were reading plays.

Abruptly, he observed his hand
while he was writing a new thought.
Some wrinkles caused him little fright;
he noticed time had done its job.

You are in my mind , great playwright,
as you are such a dear seatmate.
Long time has gone to sever us
but we are in the same time train.
BY JOSEPH ZENIEH
ALL RIGHTS RESERVED
____________

August Oct 2015

TO YOU

To you,
who may appreciate this
or may never remember —
I didn't know how to tell you
so I chose poetry
but don't worry
this is the last poem
I will ever write for you

To you,
who taught me a lot of things
from learning how to love
to teaching me how to live
with and without you

To you,
who started as my seatmate
and I won't lie, if you weren't endearing —
you were very annoying

To you,
who was so fun to talk to —
hours of various topics
along with hours of laughter
I wonder
what happened?

To you,
who went from a frenemy
to a close friend that summer
and when your love for her faded,
I was there

To you,
who went from close friend
to someone more than that;
although I'm not really sure
how that even happened

To you,
who used to say "good morning, babe"
with kiss marks and little hearts
and I thought to myself everyday
I think I really like him

To you,
who used to make me listen
to songs you liked
and you probably never knew
how I know them by heart

To you,
who got mad at me
for being very indirect while I was
jealous of you and your first ex
(but I don't think you remember)

To you,
who asked me if I ever courted you,
will you say yes?
to which I answered with,
if you changed

To you,
who will never know
how much I regret not saying yes
even up to this point

To you,
who is my first almost —
my not quite there yet
but wish you were

To you,
who texted me all of the sudden
that midnight of November
asking if I was still awake
then proceeding to say
****, I think I love you

To you,
who I laughed at when you confessed
because you were with someone else
and I don't think you still remember

To you,
who is the first boy to ever make me cry
to the point that I watch tragic movies
just so I'd have a reason to shed a tear

To you,
who danced with me during prom night
and while I was your first
you were my last
you even remembered the song
we danced to that night
(but I still don't think you remember)

To you,
who broke my heart when I found out
you were interested in someone else —
but fixed it again when you gave me
a single rose on Valentine's Day

To you,
who broke me how many times now
and broke me even more
when I found out all this time
you were with my best friend

To you,
who probably never knew
how much it hurt to see you
flirt with my best friend
while I stand there and pretend

To you,
who I thought loved me enough
to stay away from another friend
but I thought wrong

To you,
who touched her
with the same skin
I've been longing to touch

To you,
who I let come back
after going through months of hell
because I loved you that much
and I don't think you ever will

To you,
who I wanted to kiss
from the very first day we did
to the day I've written
my last poem for you

To you,
who I've written a ton of poems to
but never quite gathered the courage
to show you

To you,
whose mom is the sweetest
tell her she's lovely
you're lucky to have her

To you,
who I still love up to now
but does not necessarily mean
I want to be back together
because even if I miss you
I think now I know better.

READ:
I don't think my thoughts will cease to haunt me when I haven't poured my heart out yet — and although you might not care, I think I deserve this at the very least.

(If you want to read what I've written for you and about you, the rest are on my profile on this site. If lang naman.)

— The End —