Hello Poetry
Submit your work and get some sparkles! Create free account
"tay" poems
At sa pagkagat ng dilim Kasabay ng pamamaalam ng araw sa'tin Mahihimlay ko sa sulok ng apat na dingding Huhubarin ang mga ngiti, ipapahinga ang bibig at ibababa ang hinlalaki kong kanina pa nangangawit Sa kapapaalala sa mundo na ayos lang Na makakatagal pa ko ng kahit sampung minuto Sampung minuto--- Ito lang ang kailangan para tuluyan nang tapusin ang sinimulang kwento natin At sampung minuto para dapuan ka nila ng tingin at sabihin sa'king Kailangan na kitang talikuran Ngunit di na ko inabot ng sampung minuto pa para pakingga't tupdin sila Dahil sampung segundo lang--- Isa, dalawa, bitaw na, bitaw Lima, anim, ayoko pa, ayoko pero Siyam, sampu...ay nagawa na kitang bitawan Ang sabi kasi ni nanay ay di ka nararapat para sa'kin Sabi ni tatay pag-aaral ko muna ang atupagin Ang sabi nila ay dapat ko silang sundin Ang mga bumuhay at nag-aruga sa akin ay dapat na lagi kong susundin Huwag mo nang gawin yan, ito ang mas bigyan **** pansin Di yan makabubuti para sa'yo, bat di mo na lang tularan ang kapatid mo Ang lalaki dapat ay matikas Ang tanga tanga mo, wala kang mararating diyan Kahit sino kayang makagawa ng ganyan, magsundalo ka na lang Dinaig ka pa ng nakababata sa'yo? Dapat pareho kayong tinitingala ng tao Kaya't binigo ko ang nag-iisa kong pag-ibig at sumuong sa digmaang di ko kailanmang naisip Dahil dapat lagi pa ring susundin ang mga bumuhay at nag-aruga sa'kin, mga bumuhay at nag-aruga sa'kin dapat kong sundin, ang sa'kin ay nag-aruga't bumuhay lagi pa ring susundin Nay, yakapin mo ko't pahupain ang hapdi Kaya, Tay, tapikin mo ko sa balikat at sabihin **** tama ang ginawa kong pagtupad sa pangarap mo Dahil tapos na tapos na ko Pagod na pagod na ko Sa panonood sa pagkislap ng mga mata ni bunso Mga kutikutitap na di mapapasakin dahil ang mga mata ko'y namumugto Mga matang naniningkit na katatanaw sa sarili kong mga pangarap Dahil ng mg paa ko'y habol ang bawat dikta't kagustuhan niyo Sawa na kong pilit pantayan si bunso Dahil kahit anong gawin ko'y di bubukal sa'kin ang kaligayahan Di tulad niyang may malayang kinabukasan Ako'y may busal ang bibig, may taling mga kamay, nakakulong sa ekspektasyon ng sarili kong mga magulang Pagod na ko, ayoko na Ayoko nang marinig ang "Tingnan mo siya,buti pa siya, mas magaling pa siya..." Hindi ako binigay sa inyo para ikumpara niyo sa isa niyo pang anak at sa anak ng iba na hinihiling niyong meron din kayo Gusto ko lang naman marinig na may tinama ako kahit papano, kahit kapiranggot Gusto kong marinig ang "Salamat" at "Mahal kita" at "Ipinagmamalaki kita" dahil tapos na tapos na ko Pagod na pagod na kong Habulin ang liwanag ng talang matagal nang namatay sa kalawakan Kaya Nay, Tay Ako po muna Ako naman ngayon...
0
Aug 12, 2017
Aug 12, 2017 at 5:53 AM UTC
Sampung Minuto
At sa pagkagat ng dilim Kasabay ng pamamaalam ng araw sa'tin Mahihimlay ko sa sulok ng apat na dingding Huhubarin ang mga ngiti, ipapahinga ang bibig at ibababa ang hinlalaki kong kanina pa nangangawit Sa kapapaalala sa mundo na ayos lang Na makakatagal pa ko ng kahit sampung minuto Sampung minuto--- Ito lang ang kailangan para tuluyan nang tapusin ang sinimulang kwento natin At sampung minuto para dapuan ka nila ng tingin at sabihin sa'king Kailangan na kitang talikuran Ngunit di na ko inabot ng sampung minuto pa para pakingga't tupdin sila Dahil sampung segundo lang--- Isa, dalawa, bitaw na, bitaw Lima, anim, ayoko pa, ayoko pero Siyam, sampu...ay nagawa na kitang bitawan Ang sabi kasi ni nanay ay di ka nararapat para sa'kin Sabi ni tatay pag-aaral ko muna ang atupagin Ang sabi nila ay dapat ko silang sundin Ang mga bumuhay at nag-aruga sa akin ay dapat na lagi kong susundin Huwag mo nang gawin yan, ito ang mas bigyan **** pansin Di yan makabubuti para sa'yo, bat di mo na lang tularan ang kapatid mo Ang lalaki dapat ay matikas Ang tanga tanga mo, wala kang mararating diyan Kahit sino kayang makagawa ng ganyan, magsundalo ka na lang Dinaig ka pa ng nakababata sa'yo? Dapat pareho kayong tinitingala ng tao Kaya't binigo ko ang nag-iisa kong pag-ibig at sumuong sa digmaang di ko kailanmang naisip Dahil dapat lagi pa ring susundin ang mga bumuhay at nag-aruga sa'kin, mga bumuhay at nag-aruga sa'kin dapat kong sundin, ang sa'kin ay nag-aruga't bumuhay lagi pa ring susundin Nay, yakapin mo ko't pahupain ang hapdi Kaya, Tay, tapikin mo ko sa balikat at sabihin **** tama ang ginawa kong pagtupad sa pangarap mo Dahil tapos na tapos na ko Pagod na pagod na ko Sa panonood sa pagkislap ng mga mata ni bunso Mga kutikutitap na di mapapasakin dahil ang mga mata ko'y namumugto Mga matang naniningkit na katatanaw sa sarili kong mga pangarap Dahil ng mg paa ko'y habol ang bawat dikta't kagustuhan niyo Sawa na kong pilit pantayan si bunso Dahil kahit anong gawin ko'y di bubukal sa'kin ang kaligayahan Di tulad niyang may malayang kinabukasan Ako'y may busal ang bibig, may taling mga kamay, nakakulong sa ekspektasyon ng sarili kong mga magulang Pagod na ko, ayoko na Ayoko nang marinig ang "Tingnan mo siya,buti pa siya, mas magaling pa siya..." Hindi ako binigay sa inyo para ikumpara niyo sa isa niyo pang anak at sa anak ng iba na hinihiling niyong meron din kayo Gusto ko lang naman marinig na may tinama ako kahit papano, kahit kapiranggot Gusto kong marinig ang "Salamat" at "Mahal kita" at "Ipinagmamalaki kita" dahil tapos na tapos na ko Pagod na pagod na kong Habulin ang liwanag ng talang matagal nang namatay sa kalawakan Kaya Nay, Tay Ako po muna Ako naman ngayon...
Continue reading...
50
Yeh bharat hai      un veer jawano ka, Jahan samman hota aurato ka     Atithi aur kisaano ka, Yeha bahati hai Ganga ki suddh dhara, Rahenge sda hum ek hamara yahi nara, Manaye jate hain id yaha harsho-ullas se, Khele jate holiya bhi rango aur gulal se, Kheto ki hariyali hi bharat ki pahchan, Ugate hai sona bhi mitti se yahan ke kisaan, Yeh bharat hai      un naujawano ka, Jo tay karte desh ka bhavishya, vishav me pahchan hain enke ek alag karnamo ka, Yehan ke log jite hain sirf es watan ke liye, Kadi dhup ** ya kadkdati thand karte hain mehnat dinbhar do roti aur us pet ke liye, Yahan thirakati hain nariya kathak ke dhuno par, Barsate hain phul yahan us thinranga jhande par, Likh do sabd  MANISH  bhi bataya apni desh ki pahchan, Jiski sabheyata aur sanskriti hain sarvopari Jahan sabhi log ek saman...
0
Jun 26, 2015
Jun 26, 2015 at 8:31 PM UTC
YEH BHARAT HAI
Instagram Anak: Tay, ano po iyong ingles ng gramo? Tatay: Gram, anak. Anak: E 'yong kilogramo po? Tatay: Kilogram, anak. Anak: May relasyon po ba ang gramo sa kilogram? Nanay: anak ng kilogram ang gramo, anak. Anak: Aaah! Ganun po ba? E 'yong tinatawag na instagram po? Nanay: Madali lang iyan, anak. Ang tanong mo ba ay kung magkadugo sila? Anak: Tumango ang anak. Nanay: Ang instagram ay lolo ng gramo at tatay ng kilogramo. Tatay: Umalis ka nga sa harapan ng anak mo. Na-bo-bobo ako sa iyo e. Dinadamay mo pa anak mo.
0
Sep 6, 2017
Sep 6, 2017 at 3:26 PM UTC
Instagram
Dili na mapugngan ang gugma dughan nato wa na nag duha-duha gikalimtan na ang kaugalingon andam ihatag ang tanan sa imo Basta naay ikaw ug ako Ang selos dili gyud mapugngan Bisag walay man tay hinungdan oh Pagsabot raman ang kinahanglan Aron atong gugma way katapusan Basta naay ikaw ug ako Lantaw na makalanay Nangurog sa kalipay Dugay ko ng gihandom nga ikaw akong maangkon (Ayaw unta paasaha Kining akong gugma Kanunay gahandom Bisag way pag laom) Basta naay ikaw ug ako (Lantaw na makalanay Nangurog sa kalipay) Basta naay ikaw ug ako (Dugay ko ng gihandom basta ikaw maangkon)
0
Aug 18, 2018
Aug 18, 2018 at 4:48 AM UTC
You and I
The Littlest Mailman, It started as a conversation With your big sister. We were all so excited to Hear about you. We could barely Contain ourselves With the news of this miracle. You were loved so much already. Greatly saddened by the news today. You were already so much to us, A Son or daughter, A brother or sister A niece or nephew Grandson or daughter. But, sadly your heart stopped beating, We are so sad you are leaving. They must have needed another Tiny angel in heaven. We miss you already. Grandma please hold him or her steady. We will see you again when we are ready. -----Aunt Tay
0
Nov 18, 2013
Nov 18, 2013 at 5:18 PM UTC
The Littlest Mailman
See the various Poems the scene of which is laid upon the banks of the Yarrow; in particular, the exquisite Ballad of Hamilton beginning— Busk ye, busk ye, my bonny, bonny Bride, Busk ye, busk ye, my winsome Marrow! From Stirling castle we had seen The mazy Forth unravelled; Had trod the banks of Clyde, and Tay, And with the Tweed had travelled; And when we came to Clovenford, Then said my “winsome Marrow,” “Whate’er betide, we’ll turn aside, And see the Braes of Yarrow.” “Let Yarrow folk, frae Selkirk town, Who have been buying, selling, Go back to Yarrow, ’tis their own; Each maiden to her dwelling! On Yarrow’s banks let her herons feed, Hares couch, and rabbits burrow! But we will downward with the Tweed Nor turn aside to Yarrow. “There’s Galla Water, Leader Haughs, Both lying right before us; And Dryborough, where with chiming Tweed The lintwhites sing in chorus; There’s pleasant Tiviot-dale, a land Made blithe with plough and harrow: Why throw away a needful day To go in search of Yarrow? “What’s Yarrow but a river bare, That glides the dark hills under? There are a thousand such elsewhere As worthy of your wonder.” —Strange words they seemed of slight and scorn; My True-love sighed for sorrow; And looked me in the face, to think I thus could speak of Yarrow! “Oh! green,” said I, “are Yarrow’s holms, And sweet is Yarrow flowing! Fair hangs the apple frae the rock, But we will leave it growing. O’er hilly path, and open Strath, We’ll wander Scotland thorough; But, though so near, we will not turn Into the dale of Yarrow. “Let beeves and home-bred kine partake The sweets of Burn-mill meadow, The swan on still St. Mary’s Lake Float double, swan and shadow! We will not see them; will not go, To-day, nor yet to-morrow; Enough if in our hearts we know There’s such a place as Yarrow. “Be Yarrow stream unseen, unknown! It must, or we shall rue it: We have a vision of our own; Ah! why should we undo it? The treasured dreams of times long past, We’ll keep them, winsome Marrow! For when we’er there, although ’tis fair, ’Twill be another Yarrow! “If Care with freezing years should come, And wandering seem but folly,— Should we be loth to stir from home, And yet be melancholy; Should life be dull, and spirits low, ’Twill soothe us in our sorrow, That earth has something yet to show, The bonny holms of Yarrow!”
0
3.6k
Yarrow Unvisited
See the various Poems the scene of which is laid upon the banks of the Yarrow; in particular, the exquisite Ballad of Hamilton beginning— Busk ye, busk ye, my bonny, bonny Bride, Busk ye, busk ye, my winsome Marrow! From Stirling castle we had seen The mazy Forth unravelled; Had trod the banks of Clyde, and Tay, And with the Tweed had travelled; And when we came to Clovenford, Then said my “winsome Marrow,” “Whate’er betide, we’ll turn aside, And see the Braes of Yarrow.” “Let Yarrow folk, frae Selkirk town, Who have been buying, selling, Go back to Yarrow, ’tis their own; Each maiden to her dwelling! On Yarrow’s banks let her herons feed, Hares couch, and rabbits burrow! But we will downward with the Tweed Nor turn aside to Yarrow. “There’s Galla Water, Leader Haughs, Both lying right before us; And Dryborough, where with chiming Tweed The lintwhites sing in chorus; There’s pleasant Tiviot-dale, a land Made blithe with plough and harrow: Why throw away a needful day To go in search of Yarrow? “What’s Yarrow but a river bare, That glides the dark hills under? There are a thousand such elsewhere As worthy of your wonder.” —Strange words they seemed of slight and scorn; My True-love sighed for sorrow; And looked me in the face, to think I thus could speak of Yarrow! “Oh! green,” said I, “are Yarrow’s holms, And sweet is Yarrow flowing! Fair hangs the apple frae the rock, But we will leave it growing. O’er hilly path, and open Strath, We’ll wander Scotland thorough; But, though so near, we will not turn Into the dale of Yarrow. “Let beeves and home-bred kine partake The sweets of Burn-mill meadow, The swan on still St. Mary’s Lake Float double, swan and shadow! We will not see them; will not go, To-day, nor yet to-morrow; Enough if in our hearts we know There’s such a place as Yarrow. “Be Yarrow stream unseen, unknown! It must, or we shall rue it: We have a vision of our own; Ah! why should we undo it? The treasured dreams of times long past, We’ll keep them, winsome Marrow! For when we’er there, although ’tis fair, ’Twill be another Yarrow! “If Care with freezing years should come, And wandering seem but folly,— Should we be loth to stir from home, And yet be melancholy; Should life be dull, and spirits low, ’Twill soothe us in our sorrow, That earth has something yet to show, The bonny holms of Yarrow!”
Continue reading...
69
A Kiss, stolen in secret. Away, from prying eyes. Before The the school Bell rang. Can't You see the memories Concealed behind my eyes? Do You even care Don't you even see my tears? Eventually They say I will forget. Even though I know I never will. Fore Your smell still lingers on my clothes. Forever etched into my brain. Going Round and round my head, Got to forget your kiss. Help Me move on and Hold my head up high. It Simply does no good to remember. I swear I'm going mad. Just The way you say my name. Jynn... Like it's beautiful. **** Me before I fall too deeply addicted to your Kiss, so sweet and soft. Love The age old Lie, told by every member of your kind. Maybe I can do this on My own, free myself from you. Never Did I think I'd Need you this much. Only Boy to ever truly Own my heart. Probably the most Painful of any hurt. Quiet Tears as loud and Obnoxious as a car alarm. Running Away from my fears. Ripping you from my life. Stop Trying to Stay, It only makes it harder. Today Is the day I finally Tear away from the life I hate. Unfortunately,   My heart and brain Unanimously decided that life was caused by you. Very Well, If you agree. This Vacancy in my life is not for you. Won't You let me die? Why must you torture me so? eX-treme Heartache, I eX-alted you so. You, The love of my life. un- Yielding rollar coaster, just wont stop. Zombie Of my former self, drained of Zest, and life.
0
Nov 8, 2012
Nov 8, 2012 at 12:01 AM UTC
ABC's of a Broken Heart
What is the color blue? Is it a human emotion? Or is it just another Meaningless color? My entire life Could be reduced To an empty color That never met much to you And what is a word? Is it a creature? Or is it an icon Left to interpretation? Oblingattoh-tay What the hell did I just say? When you said you loved me What the hell did that even mean? Everyone Is singing the same song And I can't sing along anymore I can't join in This perfect unison Of broken voices In monotone Yeah, I need more Than your empty, practiced words That we all have heard Before and Again https://spencercarlson.bandcamp.com/track/blue
0
Jan 27, 2015
Jan 27, 2015 at 9:49 PM UTC
Blue
this girls got it down when she stomps on the ground the whole town looks around "say what" what what what (no thanks, macklemore) when she flips her hair, and it's in dee air the boys all go "heyyoo" and shout the whole dayyo caz look here allison i know you like peanut butter cookies and your percy jackson bookies and singin' josh groban like (you gotta be jokin') really girl, you think you got it goin'! you inspired me and to climb up in this tree and write this poem just so i could show em that i can take it as well as dish it and girl you the best roommate you got the best traits even though you keep me up caz you be watching 30 rock and wearing my fav pair of socks but that okay caz with you girl, every day is a par-tay
0
Sep 25, 2013
Sep 25, 2013 at 8:18 PM UTC
Allison
Ehsaas kay dareechay main Baynaam sa aik shahar basta hai Har roz wahan log uth-tay hain Qaroobar kay hangaamon main Koe mun dho kar nikalta hai Koe bay- awaz surr pay sarr dhunta hai har roz wahan aik kahani hai Jo tmhain mjhay sunani hai Har saa-at wahan aik tamasha hai Jo rukta aur shaur machata hai Raat ki taareeki main Jab sab thak kar laut aatay hain Apnay **** ki thakawat ko Wo  khawaboon kay ka-andhay utartay hain Aur yunhi so jatay hain..... Ehsaas kay dareechay main Jo aik bay- naam sa shahar basta hai Uss basti ki sab hastion main Chupa bacha din bhar hansta hai Aur shab dhalay, sarhanay mun day kar rota rahta hai.....
0
Nov 14, 2018
Nov 14, 2018 at 1:55 PM UTC
Shab bhar!
In the chaos of the city, City! Where the wolven on the prowl, Hot legs and looking pretty, leather skirt and upturned scowl, You know it won’t discourage ditty, it only raises lustful howls, In the chaos of the city, (pause)…a hunter’s stalking you now-ow-ow! (nowel) In the chaos of the city, City! Out at night you wanna dance, (day-ance) To the animals you’re pretty, in those heels with that prance, (pray-ance) In the chaos of the city, wolves are out to bed you down, (day-oun) In the chaos of the city, tonight it’s *** out on the town, (tay-oun) In the chaos of the city! City! While trailing scent all a-round, (a-ray-ound) Curvy-body, lookin’ at-cha (pause)… my teeth glistening, open mouth, (may-outh) They’re not asking for much yeah, won’t be saying baby please, Wolves you know they’re gonna hunt-cha, strutting past Ole’ factories, Drivin’ n’ dancing yah, till you’re exhausted on your knees, In the chaos of the city, City! Out at night you wanna dance, (day-ance) To the animals you’re pretty, Pretty! In your heels they watch you prance, (pray-ance) In the chaos of the city, City! Wolves are out to bed you down, (day-oun) In the chaos of the city, City! Tonight it’s *** out in the town, (tay-oun) In the chaos of the city, City! In the chaos of the city, In the chaos of the city, City! Feel his claws up on you now… Ooh-Ooh, …In the chaos of the city, In the chaos of the city, In the chaos of the city, In the chaos of the city…
0
Jun 14, 2016
Jun 14, 2016 at 2:38 PM UTC
In the Chaos of the City!
In the chaos of the city, City! Where the wolven on the prowl, Hot legs and looking pretty, leather skirt and upturned scowl, You know it won’t discourage ditty, it only raises lustful howls, In the chaos of the city, (pause)…a hunter’s stalking you now-ow-ow! (nowel) In the chaos of the city, City! Out at night you wanna dance, (day-ance) To the animals you’re pretty, in those heels with that prance, (pray-ance) In the chaos of the city, wolves are out to bed you down, (day-oun) In the chaos of the city, tonight it’s *** out on the town, (tay-oun) In the chaos of the city! City! While trailing scent all a-round, (a-ray-ound) Curvy-body, lookin’ at-cha (pause)… my teeth glistening, open mouth, (may-outh) They’re not asking for much yeah, won’t be saying baby please, Wolves you know they’re gonna hunt-cha, strutting past Ole’ factories, Drivin’ n’ dancing yah, till you’re exhausted on your knees, In the chaos of the city, City! Out at night you wanna dance, (day-ance) To the animals you’re pretty, Pretty! In your heels they watch you prance, (pray-ance) In the chaos of the city, City! Wolves are out to bed you down, (day-oun) In the chaos of the city, City! Tonight it’s *** out in the town, (tay-oun) In the chaos of the city, City! In the chaos of the city, In the chaos of the city, City! Feel his claws up on you now… Ooh-Ooh, …In the chaos of the city, In the chaos of the city, In the chaos of the city, In the chaos of the city…
Continue reading...
32
Thank you Shaun, for the pictures and flowers. Thank you Lily, for the ray of sunlight. Thank you Bry, for psychopathic measure. Thank you D, for the feeling of good pleasure. Thank you Tay, for tea and bears. Thank you Meg, for Sherlock and apples. Thank you Zee, for robots and twins. Thank you Carrie, for fangirling and friendship. Thank you Liam, for support and superheroes. Thank you Paul, for understanding and ingenious. Thank you Ceryen, for fake names and shared tears. Thank you Chiara, for Italian cheese and fanfics. Thank you Rod, for fish and evil. Thank you Lia, for kitties and souls. Thank you Stephen, for gravestones and vegetables. Thank you Christine, for mercurial and poetical love. Thank you Caitlin, for product design and Poundland. Thank you Jordan, for weddings and Brenda. Thank you Conaill, for DT and Courbet. Thank you Brendan, for axes and aunts. Thank you Tom, for form time and Brittany. Thank you George, for philosophies and pigeons. Thank you Morgan, for video games and hearing. Thank you Alice, for Pokemon and tumblr. Thank you Aliyah, for hearing aids and help. Thank you all, for reading and listening. Thank you, me, for absolutely nothing.
0
Oct 19, 2014
Oct 19, 2014 at 10:13 AM UTC
Thank You.
I challenged him burly ******* captain stubbled beard as coarse as sandpaper standing there in muggy dusk arms akimbo, mama san starched uniform stained with swagger and sweat two silver captain's bars ******* any of my brilliance or bravado all he had to do was speaketh the words “need those maps, head out at 2230 hours” and that was a death sentence which was commuted to life if four decades since has been life there are not words for the black of moonless jungle except nothingness and paralytic fear and through that lightless, lifeless, abyssness I crawled, crouched and crept along sometimes as slowly as the minute hand on my watch the silence, the silence, the silence became my splintered cross to carry to my place of crucifixion at my Calvary Hill behind barbed wire, blue lead barrels and fearful eyes silence, silence, silence, black wordlessness black soundlessness punctuated by shallow precious breaths and imagined slant-eyed demons waiting behind each berm to turn the timeless night into timelessness of more black should I chamber a round? and follow its solitary sound into the silent holy night and shatter my own fragile fright? would that end this knowing without knowing? and answer the question, “is this fear worse than the answer?” since questions have answers but answers have nothing the nothing of which I was sure I would become a part in the silence, the silence, the silence of the black canopied jungle in Tay Ninh Province in 1967 where I was sentenced to death but allowed to live in silent, black wordlessness sentenced to live to wonder, after all these years of shivering fright and flickering light did the captain become a human? And was I really allowed to live?
0
Oct 2, 2012
Oct 2, 2012 at 9:58 AM UTC
Tay Ninh Province, 1967
I challenged him burly ******* captain stubbled beard as coarse as sandpaper standing there in muggy dusk arms akimbo, mama san starched uniform stained with swagger and sweat two silver captain's bars ******* any of my brilliance or bravado all he had to do was speaketh the words “need those maps, head out at 2230 hours” and that was a death sentence which was commuted to life if four decades since has been life there are not words for the black of moonless jungle except nothingness and paralytic fear and through that lightless, lifeless, abyssness I crawled, crouched and crept along sometimes as slowly as the minute hand on my watch the silence, the silence, the silence became my splintered cross to carry to my place of crucifixion at my Calvary Hill behind barbed wire, blue lead barrels and fearful eyes silence, silence, silence, black wordlessness black soundlessness punctuated by shallow precious breaths and imagined slant-eyed demons waiting behind each berm to turn the timeless night into timelessness of more black should I chamber a round? and follow its solitary sound into the silent holy night and shatter my own fragile fright? would that end this knowing without knowing? and answer the question, “is this fear worse than the answer?” since questions have answers but answers have nothing the nothing of which I was sure I would become a part in the silence, the silence, the silence of the black canopied jungle in Tay Ninh Province in 1967 where I was sentenced to death but allowed to live in silent, black wordlessness sentenced to live to wonder, after all these years of shivering fright and flickering light did the captain become a human? And was I really allowed to live?
Continue reading...
49
Wee cosy, tranquil Gatehouse Library Ah come in quite a lot tay see yi, Tay read yir books and use yir wifi                 An' chat tay Joannie, Sae noo Ah'm goannie sing yir praises,                 Ah'm pure dead goannie. Ye're sic' a cultural oasis, Wan o' ma favourite learnin' places, Yir books can form the verra basis                 O' Scottish brain power, Enrichin' minds an' cheeky faces                 O' Scottish wean power. So let us pray they never close yi Tay those who would, we will oppose yi. We'll be the storm an ill wind blows yi                 At sic' a crunch time. The only closin' we'll allow                 Is Joannie's lunch time.
0
Jan 18, 2015
Jan 18, 2015 at 6:38 PM UTC
My Luve Is Like A Read Read Story
She was old when I first knew her To an infant, parents are timeless; Fairy aunts are just… old. A tiny scarecrow of a thing, Her eyes glittered; her mouth Never offered an ill word of anyone. She was a good woman. She never tired Of talking about blind Jim – a good man – With girlish love in her face; One man, one love, one life He wove wicker and filled mattresses And listened to the wireless in the evening. Her constant thought companion As so many might-have-been heroes – Gone, before I could know him. Christmas would wend round each year, With Meg as star guest, Tipsy before the Queen’s Speech, Whisky rouging her cheeks; fairy lights Made envious by her laughter, My mother, and hers, basking in gleelight. I grew up there, every other Sunday, Overlooking the Hospital and the Tay From the safety of her living-room window, Inventing spaceships and spies, Dreaming of who I would be, As my mother and Meg made small-talk. Month by month, her daylight dimmed. I never saw it. She was only ever her; Happy, constant and true.  Afterwards, I learned about the Vying accountants and surgeons, Postponing, year and again, The procedure. She told me, when finally Her appointment was confirmed, That when the cataracts were gone, She was going to buy a ticket For the number nine circular And spend all day upstairs, Just looking out of the window At the city she’d lived in For nigh-on ninety years A week before the operation Her home-help found her in bed, with Jim; Smiling as they danced through the daisies. She seemed no older when she died Than when I first knew her. A good innings, they all said. Not enough. If only by the length of a bus ticket – not enough.
0
Feb 26, 2013
Feb 26, 2013 at 5:27 AM UTC
Day Tripper
She was old when I first knew her To an infant, parents are timeless; Fairy aunts are just… old. A tiny scarecrow of a thing, Her eyes glittered; her mouth Never offered an ill word of anyone. She was a good woman. She never tired Of talking about blind Jim – a good man – With girlish love in her face; One man, one love, one life He wove wicker and filled mattresses And listened to the wireless in the evening. Her constant thought companion As so many might-have-been heroes – Gone, before I could know him. Christmas would wend round each year, With Meg as star guest, Tipsy before the Queen’s Speech, Whisky rouging her cheeks; fairy lights Made envious by her laughter, My mother, and hers, basking in gleelight. I grew up there, every other Sunday, Overlooking the Hospital and the Tay From the safety of her living-room window, Inventing spaceships and spies, Dreaming of who I would be, As my mother and Meg made small-talk. Month by month, her daylight dimmed. I never saw it. She was only ever her; Happy, constant and true.  Afterwards, I learned about the Vying accountants and surgeons, Postponing, year and again, The procedure. She told me, when finally Her appointment was confirmed, That when the cataracts were gone, She was going to buy a ticket For the number nine circular And spend all day upstairs, Just looking out of the window At the city she’d lived in For nigh-on ninety years A week before the operation Her home-help found her in bed, with Jim; Smiling as they danced through the daisies. She seemed no older when she died Than when I first knew her. A good innings, they all said. Not enough. If only by the length of a bus ticket – not enough.
Continue reading...
52
Swingy with my e-pe-tay This is the dance of wewe gay I shove it in and lunk it out Along your butt-crack do I spout THis is the sound, sound is of pepe I shook forlorn out of my wewe all the drips of ural seepy so that no more weepy when i pepe in my bed
0
Aug 16, 2011
Aug 16, 2011 at 11:56 PM UTC
Pepe Dance
A mother who listens to soft classical Mozart Reclined against the soft, worn pillow from ages slender fingers easily flicking through a catalog, while a father is hunched over in the cold den, racked with coughs and pains, trembling fingers trying to hold on to the metallic foil of medicine. And a child, barely 4 playing with stuffed animals on the couch a victim of Tay Sach A car, and a windowpane, that have both seen too much, ragged advertisements fluttering in the wind, advertising a movie coming out yesterday, A burger shop ad that had already long closed, and deals long gone. The downtown urban forest, turned into a junkyard full of scraps of rusted silver and infected bronze. A bystander who can do nothing but laugh as a boy's nose gets crushed in, a ****** lip, A swollen, purple eye A boy of 18 who is still waiting for her somewhere to see her colored smile and eyes of glass bitter and emotionless, glazed over with sterling silver, who has a family, siblings, who is now turned into nothing but a ragged playtoy for the sick, sick entertainment of others A broken air conditioner that can do nothing but clack clack clack over and over again, metal blades spinning vainly for nothing, while a broken family is screaming in the other room, and a child is crying, hands to his face, covering his eyes as a father hits his wife, knocks her against the sharp, tiled kitchen counter, and the screaming intensifies, accompied by the hurtful insults that are thrown at each other-by the father and the teen. and still the air conditioner goes on and on oblivious to nothing. A world that is so breathtaking and cruel at the same time where little, insignificant families are torn apart without a second thought, where the 'strong' prey on the 'weak' Where the most beautiful sprawling cities turn into rejected second handers just because of a rumor And, A mother who listens to soft classical Mozart Reclined against the soft, worn pillow from ages, ages ago full of tears and stiches slender fingers easily flicking through a catalog, searching for the most effective medicine, eyes flickering in worry while a father is hunched over in the cold den because he doesn't want to risk spreading his sickness to anyone else racked with coughs and pains, trembling fingers trying to hold on to the metallic foil of medicine. Working hard to support his family because the economy is going down again And a child, barely 4 playing with stuffed animals on the couch a victim of Tay Sach, dead at 6.
0
Nov 27, 2013
Nov 27, 2013 at 5:53 PM UTC
Urban Forest
A mother who listens to soft classical Mozart Reclined against the soft, worn pillow from ages slender fingers easily flicking through a catalog, while a father is hunched over in the cold den, racked with coughs and pains, trembling fingers trying to hold on to the metallic foil of medicine. And a child, barely 4 playing with stuffed animals on the couch a victim of Tay Sach A car, and a windowpane, that have both seen too much, ragged advertisements fluttering in the wind, advertising a movie coming out yesterday, A burger shop ad that had already long closed, and deals long gone. The downtown urban forest, turned into a junkyard full of scraps of rusted silver and infected bronze. A bystander who can do nothing but laugh as a boy's nose gets crushed in, a ****** lip, A swollen, purple eye A boy of 18 who is still waiting for her somewhere to see her colored smile and eyes of glass bitter and emotionless, glazed over with sterling silver, who has a family, siblings, who is now turned into nothing but a ragged playtoy for the sick, sick entertainment of others A broken air conditioner that can do nothing but clack clack clack over and over again, metal blades spinning vainly for nothing, while a broken family is screaming in the other room, and a child is crying, hands to his face, covering his eyes as a father hits his wife, knocks her against the sharp, tiled kitchen counter, and the screaming intensifies, accompied by the hurtful insults that are thrown at each other-by the father and the teen. and still the air conditioner goes on and on oblivious to nothing. A world that is so breathtaking and cruel at the same time where little, insignificant families are torn apart without a second thought, where the 'strong' prey on the 'weak' Where the most beautiful sprawling cities turn into rejected second handers just because of a rumor And, A mother who listens to soft classical Mozart Reclined against the soft, worn pillow from ages, ages ago full of tears and stiches slender fingers easily flicking through a catalog, searching for the most effective medicine, eyes flickering in worry while a father is hunched over in the cold den because he doesn't want to risk spreading his sickness to anyone else racked with coughs and pains, trembling fingers trying to hold on to the metallic foil of medicine. Working hard to support his family because the economy is going down again And a child, barely 4 playing with stuffed animals on the couch a victim of Tay Sach, dead at 6.
Continue reading...
51
A chance to speak, Beneath broken sheets, Caught out in moment, Dying deep inside. Evaporate tension, From little or no knowing, Growing up alone, Half loved and half resented. I come to conclusions, Just before my death, Keeping me in memory, Like you always promised, Missing me in silence, No more mourning of past, Of regrets and despairs. Promise me you’ll use what I learnt, Question the decisions of others, Reluctant or not, Stay away from their paths, They only lead you to their futures, Unknowingly you end their second, Valiant but alone, Where you spend life in wandering, Xrayed life, Your future makes up nothing Zorbing inside of your own bubble.
0
Jan 28, 2013
Jan 28, 2013 at 9:03 AM UTC
Life from A to Z
It was the middle of 7th grade I had just moved away My dad called me into the living room And told me that you were gone You had gotten into a car accident Going home from cheerleading practice You died by the time The sun rose the next morning I remember going into the store across the street Just a few days after I got the news I went to the register with my snacks And there was a cup filled with money It had your cheerleading picture on it It’s the same picture on your grave now Your dad was trying to raise money for your funeral ...The one I didn’t go to I regret that From the second I met you in 2nd grade Up until December 22, 2009 You were the one very best friend of mine Nobody celebrated Christmas that year There was nothing to celebrate It’s still hard to think that you’re not actually here Dawson lost his sister in the car accident Even though he was in the seat next to you Your dad lost his daughter in the back seat Even though you were hit on both of your sides That’s the first time I really felt loss You were there one second and then …you were just gone I didn’t have multiple best friends It was just you In 5 days, you would have been 18 and probably jumping off the walls Maybe we would have gone roller-skating Like we did on your 12th birthday You are my best friend Taylor C. Not a day goes by That I don’t want to tell you everything But I know you’re up there cheering for me Like you did when were were kinds 5 years with you Seemed like 5 seconds But These 5 years without you Have seemed more like 50 years Happy early birthday, Tay I wish you could have been here Because, I miss you so much Every day that you’re not here tears me apart.
0
Oct 15, 2014
Oct 15, 2014 at 9:00 PM UTC
5 years
It was the middle of 7th grade I had just moved away My dad called me into the living room And told me that you were gone You had gotten into a car accident Going home from cheerleading practice You died by the time The sun rose the next morning I remember going into the store across the street Just a few days after I got the news I went to the register with my snacks And there was a cup filled with money It had your cheerleading picture on it It’s the same picture on your grave now Your dad was trying to raise money for your funeral ...The one I didn’t go to I regret that From the second I met you in 2nd grade Up until December 22, 2009 You were the one very best friend of mine Nobody celebrated Christmas that year There was nothing to celebrate It’s still hard to think that you’re not actually here Dawson lost his sister in the car accident Even though he was in the seat next to you Your dad lost his daughter in the back seat Even though you were hit on both of your sides That’s the first time I really felt loss You were there one second and then …you were just gone I didn’t have multiple best friends It was just you In 5 days, you would have been 18 and probably jumping off the walls Maybe we would have gone roller-skating Like we did on your 12th birthday You are my best friend Taylor C. Not a day goes by That I don’t want to tell you everything But I know you’re up there cheering for me Like you did when were were kinds 5 years with you Seemed like 5 seconds But These 5 years without you Have seemed more like 50 years Happy early birthday, Tay I wish you could have been here Because, I miss you so much Every day that you’re not here tears me apart.
Continue reading...
50
hey day bay say lay a gay stay regay A-day stray may hay kay pay way xay zay yay qay dsfgdjay ay abcdefghijklmnopqrstuvwxyzay tay zonday jay z nay pay day qwertyay smay vay cay oay aaaay] aeiouay 34#^82345#@5723476ay its over wait that didnt rhyme that didnt rhyme either i broke the pattern nooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo!ay
0
Apr 16, 2014
Apr 16, 2014 at 2:02 PM UTC
the super rhyming poem
Ach, a delicah constitution, have I me auld bones are getting wearier if somebody sneezes I have a cowld its getting worser the more I get older I can’t get a dacent man but I’m looking as hard as I can I’ve got a little piece of land so for a dowry he’d be grand See, since I buried my first two it’s not easy to get a beau and these day’s I’m not such a pretty view I can be a bit contrary and my moods oft vary but unlike my sister Mary I haven’t got a tash long and hairy I don’t need any of that *** stuff I can tell ya that for nuttin Its help around the farm I’m huntin I can make a dacent cup-o-tay and I’m handy at baling the hay so if your up for a bit of honest toil and your humour don’t make me blood boil Come marry Teresa Rafter when I’m gone you’ll live happily ever after
0
Apr 23, 2013
Apr 23, 2013 at 6:44 AM UTC
Teresa Rafter
Thoughts of you strike at all hours Matching memories to mixed emotions Handsome haunting face appears Persistent flames burn me with devotion Inspired inside by inviting eyes Powerful enough to lock in a gaze Makes me want to hide within your aura In a place far from here, get lost in a gaze Been living a fairytale Loving through day, all through the night Evident by how we remove each others clothes Want you to be the only one who gets to hold me tight If you are wrapped up next to me in sheets I look forward to each play-filled day I can honestly say I am happy with life If it lasts only a short while that's still okay Time spent with your hands on my hips Worth any amount of pain to come Feelings you rile  within my heart I will treasure no matter the outcome I will never forget how your hot breath felt Tickling my pale exposed neck Each murmur captured in my brain Stored in an internal tape deck Precious moments run around my head Lips throbbing to touch once more I will love you until the day I take my last breath Til the second my still cold body hits the floor
0
Oct 23, 2018
Oct 23, 2018 at 3:01 PM UTC
For Tay
It doesn't take a shrink to tell me that yelling **** you* isn't exactly the best way to let you know i need you. and my aunt Tay - she coulda kept her say 'cuz i already know that my fists kept close(d) is what's keeping me from you giving me what i need annnd beating them against your chest probably doesn't tell you too simply to hold me even tighter - listen, i have way too many ***** to give to be giving them all to you poor you. i know. and it all drives me so nutty that you my baby got stuck in this heart of putty ive got you sputty- babblin' about how you want to keep on doing this forever. and ever? I love you.
0
Dec 29, 2014
Dec 29, 2014 at 12:32 AM UTC
****** Up
Hearing of a song about a place that I didn't know, In my head an idea of a poem it did sow, All the searches I could find of this I had no skill, Was that people were dying there on Kinnoull Hill, The beauty of the River Tay and of surrounding land, The place to view is at the Tower, that's the very place to stand, The craggy face, the steep sheer drop, if you're mentally ill, Don't dare venture to the top, the top of Kinnoull Hill, Of all the places that they choose, they chose this place to die, Shouting out I love you was the last thing that they cry, Deciding to end it all, a life that's had its fill, Death was their last resting place, below Kinnoull Hill, Not since the days when Jamie Foyers had once so proudly strode, Now it's for the weary in desperation mode, They have no need for knife or gun or even just a pill, Their modus operandi was to climb up Kinnoull Hill, Don't blame the victims for their death or of their state of mind, Modern life is difficult with day to daily grind, He was just a soldier his government trained him to **** The killing only stopped when he stepped off Kinnoull Hill.
0
Dec 5, 2015
Dec 5, 2015 at 9:22 AM UTC
Kinnoull Hill Today