"tipon" poems
Ang paligsahan ay nagumpisang magbukas
Ng mga piling kalahok kung sino ang pinakamalakas
Pinagtipon tipon sa labanang may mataas na antas
Ang gantimpala sa mananalo ay ang kapalaran ng bukas
Wari bang hamon ng buhay na tayong lahat ay kalahok
Sa paligsahang paunahang makarating sa tuktok
Kung sino ba ang makakalagpas sa mga pagsubok
At kung sino ba ang matatag at tunay na di marupok
Kaya wag hayaang tumiklop ang tuhod
Kahit sa panghihina ay dahandahang mapaluhod
Dapat kalimutan ang nararamdamang pagod
Dahil ang laban ay dumarating nang sunod sunod
Ibigay ang lahat ng makakaya
Magtiwala sa sarili, may magagawa pa
Wag mawawalan ng pagasa
Manatiling nakamulat ang mga mata
Sabay ibukas ang munting palad
Ano mang oras darating ang hinahangad
Tulad ng manlalarong naghihintay ng pasa
Nakasalalay ang puntos, kapag nahawakan ang bola
Ganun kahalaga ang bawat panahon
Di dapat pinalalagpas ang bawat pagkakataon
Yan ang aral na ipinapaalala nitong kompetisyon
At ang disiplinang nakapaloob sa isang kampeon
Sumigaw kahit gaano kaliit ang tinig
Di maglalaon ay tuluyan ka nilang maririnig
Habang ang tao’y may taglay na pagibig
May lakas na di padadaig kahit pang buong daigdig
Bumangon ilang beses man madapa….
Walang tagumpay sa pagsuko
Kaya laban lang ng buong puso
Ipakita **** ikaw ang nararapat
Sino man ang makatapat, bumalakid man ang lahat
Ang mundo ay isang parang laro
May panalo at may pagkabigo
Ngunit may karamay na kupunang sumasaiyo
Na magsasabing “Magkasama tayo, sila ikaw at ako”
Oct 23, 2018
Oct 23, 2018 at 9:31 PM UTC
Tessa III
"I believe in human rights," Chet Faker, I am trying to
find your softer side over Bose... Trying hard to forget the
ghastly scare you gave me. Smoking cigarettes and deleting
details I think you shouldn't get too deep into...
Underneath, when swimming, the story is getting more sad.
Explain to me about India, Kamasutra of many pages long,
why your part was left out. Many years have passed, dry blee-
ding the sun in shameful memories, I was on the other side.
Time is becoming a long stretch on the couch, if you remember
how you danced, exploring rhythm and ecstacy, when quietly...
Aug 16, 2019
Aug 16, 2019 at 9:44 AM UTC
R.
20 Years, capital H, honesty. Corporate career, fast
is the future. She was 19, my Maguire moment in life,
& then lost Ashley... I am not a poet, advertising before
you get lost in your world. Widowed at 20, maiden voyage. Back in life, I design my own live- models.
Here is where we are, pictures, by a railtrack, sun of a
golden brightness. A shock to my system, gone in one
centon, what is the minute man? I am not a career poet,
I live in another century. She and I are there, here, I
blame her death on the tunnel, built perhaps in prefab.
Mar 24, 2019
Mar 24, 2019 at 2:25 PM UTC
Tessa V
Your talk is big when the axe has fallen. A cavalry blinded
by butterflies and empty eyes, never have seen a real vision.
My talk is small, low ineptitude, etude. I won't fly the skies,
empty or surging with endosperm. Tacit knowledge isn't that
hard for you, is it? Another name will descend in time, maybe
close enough to your century when I am gone and won't be
remembered through symphonies of your love. Human loving
from some other base unknown. Hacking in and out what was
destined for slaughter, which birthright? For less than a penny
to buy a prince or king, or strangeness coming from heaven.
Their talk is big, surprisingly. The hardest thing yet on earth,
was never a small thing for mankind. Easy firing shots, with-
out a warning sign language, I can feel your presence getting
hot again. What I have faced before is you, up close and dan-
gerous, and you know how I feel when unarmed. The end.
Tessa VI
Trust or play simplicity, me or you. Eyes to uncover the deep,
dark mirrors. On account of many charges, this is extreme.
What is love to you? I see the barrel of a gun. The rabbit hole
is what you hate most. And I keep on trying, e.g. like this over-
bearing nerd. I am old, close to you. The pizza is turning cold.
Evenings are labelled, and your anger does not need any
more logs. In fact we have nothing in common, except when
it is bedtime and night matures inside your mind. Lightness of
fantasies, I can't stand it. Fork and knife feeling like a company
on the plate. One that you build, manage, and without me.
If you want the house, Citroen X, the e-motions, you will need
something beyond your own skin. Mediation through invest-
ments are stone and bricks to me. I rather be drunk all night.
Sometimes I wonder are you or are you not a general? I had
a simple dream yesterday, but now I am the jester. A smile...
Aug 17, 2019
Aug 17, 2019 at 2:13 PM UTC
My great American story, get in the car! The amusement
park, but children are not interested. Underground, the
Great Snake, mom buying tickets at the gate. Arvin and
his little sister, 'Mom, I want a snake." Take a peek later,
America ends. Route and tourists, industrial wonderland.
See DD in various poses, M.M. actually feels some-
thing. Buy your cousin a postcard, General Motors.
Not growing up in America, children admire souver-
nirs. Flat earth, make believe world. Visiting the US
, losing track with time. Mom is in the sun, DD's an-
gry face. America's sunny place, on TV, a billboard.
LED, Have yr beer at the local bar. Watching a
smaller world, Walt Disney's crystal ball. Factories
are second, where and everywhere. Sending out
an email, she again and her two children, rushing.
Mar 14, 2019
Mar 14, 2019 at 1:06 PM UTC
Asking too much from this emptiness, structure and language. Some
love nest between the eyes lies love in complete quietness and iso-
lation, a lonely planet in the distance. Not to want, or a complete loss
of time, or both. From your hips come a tight embrace, gilded in mad
desire from another side of what is life, transferred by frequencies.
Give up defences, dropping of humanities, pyramid of eternal longing
at midday sun, eyes or desolation. We travel on, held by the heels in poi-
son Ivy below, and fly. There is a night deformed by beauty and a living
memory, just keep quiet when you see it or feel it's meteorite burn.
Make me come back asking too much from a lonely hell?
Oct 30, 2019
Oct 30, 2019 at 7:13 PM UTC
Sand through my fingers. Seth is watching, 4 million
counting. A quiet myth, post or pre- natal, we don't
understand the breeze and twilight. Wishing, upon
multiple stars, dad could be here with us. A sentimental
thing, sis is happy being married. Counting white flowers
in the fields by the old churchyard. Weather report, the
mainland hazards always maximized, pointing. Seth's
hair in the wind, masking his face 4 a moment. Dutch
dikes, incandescent strong as they stand concrete above...
My brother, & my junior, and me, standing by his grave...
Mar 15, 2019
Mar 15, 2019 at 9:04 AM UTC
House by the beach, life is cotton dry. Once every
two weeks, a tall light through the window. Loneliness
has kind eyes, or fiery. High waves, some people are
having fun. A hidden inability to create life, and
substitutes, in the rush. House by the beach, my life story
in short. Endless motion, on and on, parting me from
what's real. I leave my footprint behind, in a chase of
the windstorm. Wealth in a tiny grain of sand, from ancient
Israel, a riddle. He tells you how to change, technically
and productively. House by the beach, castle of dreams
I see in a nightmare. Greyhound express, from wide
expanses, dust unearthly spacewalk. Where does it hurt,
questionbox. *** is a ***** word, from 9 to six. Was
it love? The ocean is not blending in, nor the blue sky.
House by the sea, your only happy memories.
Mar 15, 2019
Mar 15, 2019 at 11:25 AM UTC
Hours, flying. Kites seen from far away beaches. In
your mind, brilliant colour display. A sunny day, quiet
southern wind approaching. He is rubbing her back
and shoulder under the great blue sky. The sea is
everlasting. Happy moment, she is smiling. Single kite
ascending into another blue sky. Tropical cyclone
is cutting loose, the hours are critical. Seconds away
from flooding the beds, hills, mountains, and the stars,
wake up! True romance, he is rubbing her back & shoul-
ders, a subsidy of love, only for the young generation.
Mar 22, 2019
Mar 22, 2019 at 6:55 AM UTC
Tessa III
Two people sitting unidentified in cinema seatings missing
reality. If we touched classical screen will be on, two to 20
minutes long. A private facility at home, what is happening?
A million faces said it before, *** can't change things when
silent. It's not about the hurt or pain of memory humanity,
a gut feeling that won't come out. Your bowl of fruit, act sur-
prised. Turning up the dramatic sound, it won't be a smash hit.
I am trying to forget about your special traits. I got talent, you
see... If I go toward the exit first, our secret will self- destruct.
"Houston, we have a serious problem. Re-entry zero burning."
Tessa IV
It's easy once you see it, yours and mine ideology. I
want kindness from you, from me, when we sleep. Bla-
ming is the gravestone when all method is dead. Our
bed is floating and we can't say why. I am capable of change,
another challenge to meet the talisman. Indifference
to use in this sentence upholds the vision, was it virtue,
loneliness? That is the supporting middle that we have.
Friday morning glory, coming in boxes on the table. For-
tune teller in your tealeaves, what is it saying? When will
I be dead? The level of threat has moved to another level.
Tessa V
Weekend readings, a million heads per second. I do the
writing, and so a few hundreds more. The gurkin inside
your oyster, making intention go blue and green. The sun
is what I call the architect. High shadows when looking be-
hind now. A glorious morning, I can just smell the coffee.
I am looking forward to a good saturday this weekend. Dis-
tance between us is a good thing. This lovelife is homeless,
without memory. Let's grow old more decently, talk when
having breakfast, or just be quiet. You know when they say
'a good life', I don't see it in your eyebrows. Oh, please, don't
smile... Sometimes I wonder why they left you, stunningly
beautiful when you were young. What can I say, my charitable
me is a DNA- thing or the Chuckle Brothers. One more thing,
what is it with this metaphor, when you are young with the sun
wrapped around your waist? I am just happy with my readings.
Aug 23, 2019
Aug 23, 2019 at 6:06 AM UTC
Tessa I
It is not a laughing matter, watching life through bro-
ken glass and memory loss in an instant. "You did give
me that horse," death changes everything. Friday after-
noon, like any other day, only more wonderous after my
collapse. Why you kicked me in the head is making me
wonder about a sitcom, cruel and vengeful. Was it love,
Tessa? Or was it Coca- Cola, Miller Beer oats and flakes?
Revenge or consumption? You want my honesty, you are
hijacking Time. Give me something, inspire me, manage this
life you want. I am giving you the secret key to a new start.
Aug 16, 2019
Aug 16, 2019 at 11:38 AM UTC
Tipon & Maria
From porous debris, our house, rebuilding renais-
sance. Tiny streets, part wisdom, a long path, mar-
riage? Tipon & Maria, name, family, familiarity. Roasted
peanuts, to some. We need a small document, in time.
She knows, our work, labor of love. Poetry and poems,
under the tree, what was first and second. Thrid time too,
agreeing, too many times. Years, dissolving moments
of delay, to be or not reversed. Nay, Aye, indecisive, yes-
terday. We love the howling of the owl, renaissance or
nostalgia. From porous debris, home is best and kindest.
Mar 9, 2019
Mar 9, 2019 at 6:15 PM UTC
1.
Swipe, time & splice. Hello, the argument. Pizza,
say cheese. Hello again, should we talk? ok.com
Writing a new message. Easy to see where we're
going tonight, reply. Sending you pictures, 'Here
is where I am', no angles. A deep conversation, 'Hi!'.
2.
Cool I, Cool II, Cool III, multiple cool, XXXXX... Naked
fresh mint in my heavy mouth. Chewing, chewing, slow.
I see you, crossing a busy street. Am I hearing some-
thing? My heart is beating fast. Cool everything, when
looking around. Who am I? If I told you, it'll be so un-cool.
3.
Love, what is love in modern days? A timeline, thinking
about it all the time, tracking device, eyes and mind. What
is love, simple as revenge? Rage is easier. New defini-
tions, physical devices are real & smart. Once you go
blank, you never come back. Love is superficial, science.
4.
I have a future wife, she is in the mist. She brings me
apples, and I give her pears. We are very provincial,
e.g. in living farm places. Love is under my hat, and
she is smiling back at me. Early mist, I call her name.
I love the smell of green grass. Totus tuus, I am all hers.
5.
I am not experienced, in terms of coitus. It's almost
a discipline, if you know medicine. Your energy, it's
amazing. A fact, you need response. Oh, yes, I see
what you mean. The body can be effectively responsive,
If we both agree. I am not experienced, please, teach me.
Mar 15, 2019
Mar 15, 2019 at 6:39 PM UTC
Music, I know you're not from around here. The size of
dark skies we live by in physical day light. Earth! Empty
driveway, a dream place of our own. The coming of home,
new scene. Cellulair senses, dual, men to women, vice
versa. A New age, flat screen Tokyo picture, panavision.
Mar 12, 2019
Mar 12, 2019 at 7:45 PM UTC
Tessa VI
Sunday morning, I wonder if you are happy. Smart happy,
or just happy. Ten days ago it was about my indiscretions, and
how you engineered the wife- thing up close and dangerous...
I have lost the bird in my hand, in exchange for the pyramids
of Egypt. I also wonder, did you go to church today? Not becau-
se of affection, but for confectionate reasons. Sprinkling here
and there your Bible- religion for the morning. I am not looking
back. We are in the new realities in Real Time, and tomorrow.
About the bird, she was my phoenix with scanty white polished
feathers. For subtlety we scored a very high heaven. The L-
word now lies between the sun and earth. I understand, you
need me and I need you, vision. Love at this stage of age can't
be coincidental, plain and simple. I wonder if you are happy this
morning, when looking at you through the wide window. It
could be telepathic, if life is smart between us. I answer...
Aug 25, 2019
Aug 25, 2019 at 5:05 AM UTC
It's not a boatrace who is right or not. We relate to each other
via power and force once or twice in a while. I imagine what
you would look like, a variety of images just pass my mind
without Westminster in your hunchback. Figure of speech. Hy-
pocritical sayings of the house, drink driving and fines. Love
comes through the maze of a mini drowsiness, when you get
up to him and you kiss. I am still here when you had your little
kissy kiss behind the blue door. Am I right when you move on
slow to the left? You are selfobsessed about your cleverness,
turning upside down what used to be my understanding. Per-
haps they let you off the hook, oblique perfection when look-
ing back. My God, I used to be happy! Now I find myself in this
boatrace over a simple perception almost a neaderthaler con-
cept. Captain caveman, come out where ever you are? You are
outside the house sleeping on the couch? I need a stiff drink.
Aug 28, 2019
Aug 28, 2019 at 9:36 AM UTC
Wednesday, open window into the sun. Eagle sub-
merged in our wall, ancient as limestone or basalt,
while holding you. Our last goodbye, between land
and the Red Sea, Time disappeard out of nowhere.
Sinai has no ambivalence, now or forever. Time
changes everything, if you're lucky. Blue in the window,
and I touch the sky to make a wish. One drop of water in
your balloon, fast asleep for centuries. Ahh, revenge is so
sweet, darling. But it is getting late, tomorrow comes down
from the galaxy when full of stars. We will be looking up.
Aug 21, 2019
Aug 21, 2019 at 10:27 AM UTC
Brexit: unscathed Labour and leader, after
last night's vote in House of Commons. Where
Mrs May, PM UK, will now go, back to the people.
Quo Vadis, another question and plan, escaping.
Labour, the people, the people, the people, the people,
and Brexit again, but forgotten. What Jeremy Corbyn
could have done, if only! Leaving the EU? This unfamiliar
shake- up of government in the UK, was a mistake, or...
Imagine there's no heaven, Labour goes unscathed. Mrs
May is down, parliament is back in control, well so they say.
Mar 26, 2019
Mar 26, 2019 at 5:32 AM UTC
1.
God... I did see the eyes, but it was not raining, or the storm.
2.
Dad's not here, I don't understand. Mom is in the kitchen,
feeling so old. We're part of life that no one envisions, except
when you are exchanging the world for your dreams. Progress
is in the sky, aliens speaking to us through the moon. I will
one day give up this yearning. What is love, tell me? Dad?
Feb 19, 2019
Feb 19, 2019 at 5:50 AM UTC
Tessa Cycle III
1
A whisper, Frederic Raphael and glittering prizes. We are not
patients in this hospital ward, a couple. The prize, I under-
stand is my birthday present... Past salt on my face, like the
dream you get in the night. Behind the palace, your first kiss
stolen. Imagine what time would be like, the future? Whispers
midday in the summer heatwave we will be hiding in the cool-
ness of the river. Time in the clock is flying, your pickup sticks
Mikado solitary game behind the wide hourglass, I am still wai-
ting for the body- sun- eclips. In your secret location, a song
about the garden, what's on the petri dish? Micro tessalation...
Aug 27, 2019
Aug 27, 2019 at 8:54 AM UTC
1
A whisper, Frederic Raphael and glittering prizes. We are not
patients in this hospital ward, a couple. The prize, I under-
stand is my birthday present... Past salt on my face, like the
dream you get in the night. Behind the castle, your first kiss
stolen. Imagine what time would be like, the future? Whispers
midday in the summer heatwave we will be hiding in the cool-
ness of the river. Time in the clock is flying, your pick-up sticks
Mikado solitary game behind the wide hourglass, I am still wai-
ting for the body- sun- eclips. In your secret location, a song
about the garden, what's on the petri dish? Micro tessalation...
Aug 27, 2019
Aug 27, 2019 at 8:57 AM UTC