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040116

Hindi kita ginamit at pinagkaingat-ingatan
At sa minsanang pagdampi ng pawis ng langit,
Ika’y aking iniaangat --
Malihis ka lamang sa makinarya ng tubig,
Siyang may maitim na balak.

At sa lubak na daa’y, hindi ako patitisod
Minsan nga’y naiisip ko pang ako’y hibang sayo,
Pagkat di bale nang may galos,
Wag ka lang gantihan ng gasgas.

At sa tuwing iaalis kita sa aking katauha'y,
Tila ayoko nang magbagong-bihis pa
Sapat ka na't ni ayaw nang maisantabi pa.

Mahal,
Yan ang turing sayo.
Mahal,
Yan ang presyo mo.
Sana iyong maisip
Ang aking nararamdaman
Hindi maipagkakaila
Ang nararamdaman ko ay tunay

Kung para sayo wala lang ito
Para saakin ito ay isang pangarap
Pangarap na hindi kailanman matutupad
Pangarap na tila isang impossibleng pagkakataon

Isang pagkakamali ang mahulog sayo
Ako man ay umaasa pa rin
Ngunit iba ang iyong gusto
Alam kong hindi ako at hinding hindi magiging ako

Kakaiba ang turing mo saakin
May konting aliw at kilig
Pero hindi lahat ay totoo
Kasinungalingan ika nga

Pagpasensyahan mo na
Ikaw ang aking natipuhan
Hindi ko ito sinasadya
Wala ito sa plano
“Kaibigan” ang tawag ko sayo.
“Kaibigan” ang turing ko sayo.
Ngunit ang puso ko ay litong-lito.

Iniibig ka paminsan.
Iniibag ka.
Friendzone ang peg?
Marlo Cabrera Mar 2014
Salamat,

Salamat, sa napakamasayang pagsasamahan natin,

salamat,

sa pagmamahal na ipinadama niyo sa akin.

Salamat,

Ako ay nag-papasalamat sa pag gabay niyo sa akin.

Salamat, ako'y inyong sinamahan sa lahat ng beses na ako'y humaharap sa hamon ng buhay.

Salamat,

sa pag-tangap sa akin bilang kaibigan.

Salamat,

kase kayo ay para saakin di' kaibigan ang turing
kayo'y Pamilya para saakin.

Salamat,

Sa kabila ng lungkot at kaligayahan; ako'y hindi niyo kailanman iniwan.

Salamat.

Simula sa araw na ito, tayo man ay magkaibang landas ang tatahakin,
sama-sama nating haharapin ang kinabukasan na nasa harapan natin.

hawak ang kamay ng isat' isa, sabay-sabay na nag-lalakad papunta sa paraiso
na para sa atin ay naka-laan.

Salamat sa lahat.

Salamat.

Salamat, aking mga Kaibigan.
Grade 11, Sa puso koy' mananatili habang buhay.
JOJO C PINCA Nov 2017
Tinatamad ako hindi ko magawang tipahin ang tiklado ng aking computer.
Inaantok ako malamang kinakapos ng oxygen ang utak ko kaya ganito.
Pero ang diwa ko’y gising at gustong sumulat ng tula hindi ito nakatulala.
Anong tula ang susulatin ko? Tungkol ba sa’yo at sa pagsinta nating tuyo?
O patungkol sa bayan kong minamahal na walang utang na loob sa malasakit ng iba?
Ang bayan o ang aking pag-ibig sa’yo alin sa dalawa? Ewan ko nalilito ako.
Pareho kayong mahalaga, pareho ko kayong mahal, pero alam ko na pareho din kayong mawawala. Bakit ko sasayangin ang aking mga salita? Bakit kailangan ko pang ialay ang bunga ng aking kaisipan kung sa bandang huli ito ay mawawalan lang ng saysay?

Hayaan **** mag-diskurso ako kahit sandali lang mahal ko.

Ilan tula na ba ng aking sinulat para sa bayan kong sawi at laging alipin ng mga walang turing at pakundangan, may nangyari ba? Wala naman diba? Walang saysay ang pagliyag ko sa bayang ito na laging lumuluhod at sumusunod sa mga dayuhan. Itong bayan na sa kabila ng kanyang paghihirap at dalita ay laging nangangamuhan at humahalik sa paa ng mga kapitalistang ganid. Ang bayan ng mga taong mahirap paniwalain sa totoo pero madaling bolahin ng mga pulitikong hunghang. Ito ba ang bayan na aking iibigin?

at ikaw naman mahal ko

Batid mo'ng iniibig kita alam mo yan pero para saan ang aking pagliyag sa’yo kung mawawala ka rin sa akin? Oo naman nasasabik ako lagi sa’yo, gusto kitang yakapin, halikan at makasiping sa buong magdamag hanggang sa bukang-liwayway. Pero hanggang kailan ako mananaginip ng gising at mananabik saiyong piling gayong alam ko na hindi ka naman talaga magiging akin sa habang panahon?

Marami ba akong tanong? Pasensya kana ganun talaga ang isang makata, nabubuhay s’ya gamit ang mga salita at tandang pananong.

Pero sige magsusulat ako ng isang tula para sa’yo at para sa bayan ko. Magsusulat ako kahit alam kong walang magbabasa nito. Magsusulat ako at aasa na parang hangal, aasa na may babasa at maniniwala sa aking mga salita. Ipapahid ko ang utak at damdamin ko sa papel na tulad sa isang nababaliw. Magsusulat ako dahil tungkulin ko ito, magsusulat ako dahil alipin ako nito, magsusulat ako dahil ito lang ang alam ko at higit sa lahat magsusulat ako dahil ito ang buhay ko.

Iaalay ko sa’yo mahal kong marupok at sa’yo bayan kong walang utang na loob ang aking tula kahit inaantok at tinatamad ako.
Eisseya Roselle Oct 2018
Ilang taon ka na ring laman ng puso
ngunit napagtanto na tigilan na ito
naging prince charming na nga kita sa isip ko
at ayoko ng maging prinsesa mo.
kaya titigilan ko na ito.

Alam mo bang tayo lagi sa panaginip ko, sana ganon rin sa paggising.
Ngunit ang layo pala, ang layo palang maging tayo
kaya pipilitin kong kalimutan ang mukha mo
at di na aasa sayo
dahil sa una palang, kaibigan lang ang turing mo sakin
at ako naman tong si tanga, umaasa na mamahalin mo
at nilalagyan ng malisya lahat ng galaw mo
kaya sa huli, laging nasasaktan ang puso ko.
kaya titigilan ko na ito.
draft draft daraft
Thomas Thurman Dec 2010
See you our server farm that hums
And serves HTTP?
It's spun its disks and done its sums
Ever since Berners-Lee.

See you our mainframe spewing out
The Towers of Hanoi?
It's moved recursive discs about
Since Babbage was a boy.

See you our ZX81
That prints the ABCs?
That very program used to run
With Lovelace at the keys.

Magnetic floppy disks and hard,
And tape with patience torn,
And eighty columns on a card,
And so was England born!

She is not any common thing,
Water or Wood or Air,
But Turing's Isle of Programming,
Where you and I will fare.
A rather silly homage to a rather lovely poem in Kipling's "Puck of Pook's Hill".
MR May 2019
Ang istorya nati’y parang liham...

Sisimulan ko sa panimulang pagbati.

Ito yung mga panahong bago palang tayong magkakilala.
Yung mga panahong kaibigan palang ang turing natin sa isa’t isa.
Dito ko nakita ang ‘yong nagniningning na mga mata,
at may nakita akong nakakabighani sayo na hindi nakikita ng iba.

Ito yung mga panahong nagkakakilala palang tayo.
Mga panahong wala pa tayo sa puntong “Tayo”,

at ang pinakaimportante sa lahat,

Panimulang Pagbati.

Dito nagsimula ang lahat.
Nagsimula sa simpleng chat,
na nagsasabing: “Ikaw lang ang gusto ko sa lahat.”,

at mula noo’y nagbago ang lahat.

Ito na yung susunod...

Katawan.

Ito yung mga panahong masaya tayong nagmamahalan.
Araw-araw tayong nagtetext at nagtatawanan,
sa mga corny pero sweet nating banatan.
Buong araw, buong gabi, na parang wala nang katapusan.

Ito yung mga panahong patay na patay tayo sa isa’t isa.
Mga panahong lumabas ang pagka-clingy nating dalawa.
Halo-halong mga emosyon ang ating nadarama,
yung tipong gulong gulo ka na’t wala ka nang maisip kundi siya.

Sa panahong ito’y napakasaya nating dalawa, ngunit...

ngunit parte ng katawan ay ang konklusyon.

Ito yung mga panahong paunti-onti nang naglalaho ang “Tayo”.
Mga masasayang emosyon ay nawala nalang sa dako,
at ang mga masasayang araw ay paunti-onti naring naglalaho,

hanggang sa dumating na sa puntong...

Ito na ang huling pagbati.

Ngunit...

Ngunit may isa pang parte ng liham na dapat hindi natin balewalain...

Ang Lagda.

Sapagkat ito ay simbolo.

Simbolo na tapos na ang lahat,
at tinalo na ng emosyon ang ating lakas,
at isa rin itong uri ng pag-uulat,
na parang liham, kung merong simula’y meron ring wakas.
Sana nagustuhan niyo!
Jamjam Apr 2018
"Mahal na mahal kita". Ang tangi tanging kataga na pumapasok sa isip ko pag kinakausap kita. Madaling sabihin, dalawang salita, siyam na letra
"Gusto kita" at "mahal kita" salitang kayang gawin ang lahat para sayo, mahirap man o madali dahil mahal kita

Sabi nga nila'y nababaliw na ako. Sa pag ngiti sa sulok tuwing nag iisa't walang kinakausap. tila ba'y nababaliw na. Pero di yan totoo. Di nila ako masisisi, mali bang ngumiti ako pag ikaw ang iniisip ko?

Hindi kita maangkin.
Hindi ko masabing ikaw ay akin.
Sapagkat wala namang atin.
Dahil hindi ka naman akin, OO HINDI.
Hindi ka saakin dahil wala nga namang tayo.
Tila salta't dayo ang turing mo sa akin sa tuwing tayo'y naguusap, pigil sa salita.
Kahit ganon, ako'y nadadala't nagagalak sa tuwing naguusap tayo.

Hindi ko na mapigilan. Gusto na kita. O baka
mas maganda sigurong sabihin na bakit nga ba kita ginusto? Ginusto sa sobrang ikling panahon.
Hindi ko alam kung bakit o kung paano. Basta't pag gising ko alam ko sa sarili kong gusto na kita....

Natatakot ako! OO takot na takot ako.
Takot akong masaksihang may iba ka ng gusto.
At hindi na ako.
Pero mas takot ako,
Mas natatakot akong sabihin mo ang mga katagang.
"WALA NAMANG TAYO, ANONG KARAPATAN MO"

Ano bang dapat kong gawin, para mahalin mo?
Anong dapat gawin, para mag karoon ng ikaw at ako na bubuo sa salitang tayo, sa mundo ko.

Bakit minahal mo ako? Yan ang tanong na alam kong itatanong mo sa akin, at alam kong wala akong maisasagot, dahil wala namang sagot kung bakit mahal kita, basta mahal kita.

Bakit ako? Bakit ganyan ka sa akin?
Ang mga salitang yan ang palaging sumasagi sa isipan mo sa tuwing magkausap tayong dalawa.

Bakit ikaw? Bakit ako ganto sayo?
Mukang alam mo naman siguro ang sagot sa mga tanong mo na yan. Ang kaisa isang salitang minumutawi ng aking mga labi...Mahal kita

Alam mo naman sa sarili mo na gusto kita
Alam mo naman sa sarili mo na wala nang iba
Alam mo naman sa sarili mo na ikaw lang talaga

Ika'y nangangamba na baka may makilala pa akong iba. Natatakot ka sa kadahilanang kilokilometro ang agwat nating dalawa.
MAHAL magbigay ka ng kahit konteng tiwala, pangako't hindi ka magsisisi.

Wag kang mag alala. Ako yung taong maihahalintulad mo sa sinaing sa rice cooker, ok lang kahit hindi mo bantayan..

Minsan hindi mo inaakala na magkakagusto ka sa isang tao ng ganon kadali o sa ganon kaigsing panahon, kaya siguro hindi mo matanggap na nagkagusto ka sa taong hindi mo pa gaanong nakakausap, nakikilala't nakita manlang. Yakapin ang katotohanan at walang hanggang saya ang idudulot sayo nito.

Ang namumuong pagtingin ay sobrang hirap pigilan. Pero sa palagay kuy di mapipigilan ang pilit na sumisigaw at naninibughong nararamdaman na nagtatago sa takot na dumadaloy sa bawat laman at kasukasuan ng iyong katawan.

Sana'y wag mo ng pigilan dahil lalo ka lamang mahihirapan, hayaan at wag pigiling umibig ang pusong nanghihingi ng tamis ng aking pag ibig. Ialis sa isip ang takot, at pabayaang puso ang mag desisyon. Baka sa paraang iyon ay lumaya at maging masaya ka sa araw araw na lilipas.

Hindi ko nga magawang makipagusap sa iba ibang babae o tumingin kase alam kong meron akong ikaw.

Meron nga ba akong ikaw? Ako'y umaasa.
Alam kong maluwag pa ang pagkakatali at hindi pa kita pagmamay ari. Kaya sanay hayaan mo akong mahalin ka, at mahalin ako pabalik.

Kilometro man ang layo natin sa isat isa. Pero hindi nito mapipigilan ang pagmamahal ko sayo. Ang ninanais ko lamang ay tanggapin mo at ilais ang pangambang bumabalot sa iyong isipan.

Masasabi kong sugal nga ang pag ibig. Dahil maaari kang matalo at masaktan. At sa kabilang dulo naman ay mananalo ka at walang hanggang saya.

Minsan sa buhay naten pumapasok ang takot at pumipigil sa mga bagay na maaari tayong mas maging masaya.

Ang takot ay kasinungalingan lamang na lumalason sa ating isipan, kaya siguro hindi natin nagagawa ang mga bagay na maaari tayong sumaya.

Hayaang ating puso ang magpasya. Nang sa gayoy mawala ang tinik sa lalamunan, at hayaang lumigaya at guminhawa ang nararamdaman

Ang takot ay panandalian lamang. Pero habang buhay na bumabasag sa ating kasiyahan. Sanay ialis ang takot, nang sa gayoy hindi ang pagsisisi ang manirahan sa iyong puso.
Sorry di pa po masyado revised
Crissel Famorcan Apr 2017
Buwan ng puso nung una kitang makilala
Chinat mo ako at nireplayan naman kita
Hanggang sa araw-araw, tuwing umaga
Kausap na kita bago pumasok sa eskuwela
Simula nun di ko na natiis na hindi mag-facebook
Imbis na inaatupag ko dapat yung aking mga textbook
Hanggang sa one day, naramdaman ko na merong kakaiba
Then narealize ko nalang---shet !  gusto na kita
Dun ko nabigyan ng kasagutan
Lahat ng nasa isip kong mga katanungan
Kung bakit kapag nakikita ka
Gusto kong lumundag sa saya
Sa tuwing kausap kita
May kakaiba akong nadarama
At kung bakit nga ba?
Madalas,
oo madalas
na naiisip kita.
Kaya tinago ko lahat sa yo
At palihim  na sumisilay sa labas ng room nyo
Pero ng malaman mo lahat ng to
Parang gumuho ang mundo ko
Oo gumuho ang mundo ko!
Hindi ko alam kung ano ang gagawin
Mananahimik na lang ba o aamin?
Kaya mas pinili ko nalang na sabihin.
Pero shet! yun yung masakit sa damdamin
New year's eve pa nun nung sinabi mo sakin
May gusto kang iba
Ang masaklap dun?
Yung BESTFRIEND ko pa
Yung bagong taon imbis na bagong buhay
Sinalubong ako ng sama ng loob at mga lumbay
Dun ko na realize na ang tanga ko
Para mahulog ako sa isang kagaya mo
Kung gusto mo sya, ano pa bang laban ko?
Sa mga ganyang bagay, kelan ba ko nanalo?
Hanggang ngayon, alam mo ba?
Nag sisisi pa rin ako
Kung bakit hinayaan kong mafall ako sayo
Kaya maalas kapag nagkakasalubong tayo
Umiiwas agad ako.
Umiiwas ako.
Kasi feeling ko
awkward na masyado
Kaya nga siguro madalas **** tinatanong sakin
Kung bakit di kita pinapansin
Sorry pero ayoko nang isipin pa
Ayoko nang umasa pa
Na pagdating ng panahon
may tayong dalawa pa
Pero alam mo ba?
Alam mo bang gusto kobg sabihin na
kamusta ka?
Okay ka lang ba?
Sana maayos ka.
Kumain ka na ba?
Wag kang magpapagutom huh?
Maayos ba tulog mo kagabi?
Hinihiling ko yan araw-araw, gabi-gabi
Pero hanggang dun lang ako.
Hanggang dun lang ako
Kasi nga diba?
Nakuha na ng iba
Yung susi ng puso mo
Kaya hanggang hiling nalang ako.
Hanggang hiling nalang ako
Na sana isang araw,
kumustahin mo rin ako.
Sana isang araw,
alamin mo kung kumain na ba ako
O kung naging maayos ba ang tulog ko.
Sana
kahit minsan
maisip mo rin ako.
Hindi na yung sya nalang lagi yung nasa utak mo!!
Sana isang araw maramdaman mo
Na may isang taong nandito lang lagi para sayo.
Handang maging takbuhan mo,
Hangdang maging karamay sa bawat problema mo.
Sana isang araw,
malaman mo,
Na may isang taong
nagmamahal sa yo,
Kahit na iba yung laman ng puso mo.
Sana malaman mo na nandito lang ako .
Maghihintay sayo.
Handang magsakripisyo kung kailangan mo.
Kahit na kaibigan lang yung turing mo.
Masakit man pero Kailangang tanggapin ko.
Kasi nga diba! ONE SIDED LOVE  lang naman
Ang love story na to.
ESP Nov 2014
'Di ako titigil sa'yo
Pero 'di ibig sabihin
ipagpupumilit ko
Mahal kita

Kaibigan lang ang turing mo
Eh ano?
Hindi ako titigil sa'yo
Mahal kita

Maraming pwedeng mangyari
Nag-aantay lang ako
Hanggang sa mabago ang
mahal kita

Sabi mo walang mababago
'Yun din ang sinabi ko
Pero maraming nagbago
Ikinalungkot ko

Mahal kita, sabi ko
Tinanggap mo ng buong buo
Pero nalulungkot ka na gan'un
Ako rin, nalulungkot

Ipagpapatuloy ko 'to
Sabi ko naman sa'yo
Masaya ako sa desisyon ko
Mahal kita
J Valle Nov 2015
Eve shared it and
Condemned human kind.

Newton felt it and
Changed the world's mind.

Snow White tasted it and
Proved love at first sight.

Turing used it and
Left the world behind.

That is how
I realized
It was me, who
Gave you the power
To change
Or ruin
My life.
Jor Jan 2015
Nagsimula ‘to ng makilala ko s’ya.
Pinapakita ko na mahal ko s’ya,
Pinaparamdam ko na s’ya ay mahalaga.
Pero para sa kanya, wala lang talaga.

Kahit na may pagka-boyish s’ya
Prinsesa pa rin ang turing ko sakanya.
T’wing gabi, iniisip ko s’ya
Tinanong kung nadarama n’ya ba?

'Di ko alam kung nadarama n'ya ba
Na may pag-tingin na ako sa kanya?
'Di n'ya ba pansin na mahal ko s'ya?
O sadyang manhid lang talaga s’ya?

Sobrang hirap ng ganito para akong
Nagmamahal ng taong paralisado
Na kahit anong pa ang gawin ko
'Di n'ya naman ramdam ang pag-ibig ko.
bleh Dec 2014
'i've only ever really read one poem. i, i have to admit.*  
You know, that, that one poem that everyone’s read, whatsit,
Howl by Ginsberg, 'best-minds-of-my-generation-destroyed-by-madness,-starving-hyste­rical-naked,' , yeah, that one;'
'It's just, I identify with it so strongly.' she says,
'That poem is soo me.'
It's funny how commentary on a generation 60 odd years ago come across as timeless insights..
how we learn that true spirit of rebellion and counterculture three generations ago,
  as it is taught to us by two generation ago countercounterculture academics.
but I guess, inevitably
                                         we
                                                  return,
  to those half drowned pontifications inevitably decried into transcendental truth by the onward spilling ratchet of cultural recognition;
  that sense of universal oneness generated by the unwashed ramblings of beat-generation hipsters dense innuendo in run on sentences running, running from their upper-lower-middle-class New York homes and their privilege of true vacant meaninglessness and despair,
   to those nervous tucked in shirted clean shaven scholars swooning over the same seme drugged, melancholic bearded men profussing the deepest of opaque truths only found up the furthest reaches of their own *****.
  As we push through to our lectures, the mosaic in motion of blazer wearing mac-users and mac-pac wearing blazers,
  As we hysterically interpret the formatting conditions for our reports, which could hang in the balance of whether the dreams we once had will ever be actualised,
  As we felt lost and found and found and lost at those park benches under the stars, where occasional strangers strolled by offering sessions and life-stories,
  As we paid exorbitantly to get out of our parents homes, and into tin-can flats with broken windows, absentee landlords and cracked paint only held together by all the moss, (the empowerment that is wage slavery,) for in our youth, poverty is not an ever-present pejorative, but the rite of passage to show that we are alive,
  As rituals of manhood are defined by two things and two things only; how much insomnia one can accumulate to meet insane and inane deadlines, and how much one can illuminate the walls in ***** from all the beers, spirits, cheap wines and questionable home-brews,
  As the government dismantles the human-rights commission, and we nervously attend the rallies initiated by the radicals, and the man on the megaphone calls on the crowd to chant and we can only mumble and laugh nervously at ourselves,
  And when the next speaker runs onto stage feeling the need to plead to this already nervous, placid mass that this is in-fact a PEACEFUL PROTEST, and that we are all true patriots and they insist everyone start singing the national anthem and we all look down and we again mumble, or pretend somehow not to hear them,
  and when, in this biggest independent rally around a unified cause our generation's ever seen, we have never felt so alone ,
  and isolated,  
                                  we
                                             remember,
                                                                    those earlier days,
  When we'd bleach our hair; we'd poison ourselves white, in the vain mystic hope that this was just the transition period to the time when we'd get true colour into our lives,
  Remember our wonder at the Eurocentric Asiatic television representations of the Abrahamic faiths, given transubstantiated holy revival by the medium of Saturday morning digital pastel pasture; when we were children staring excited and wide eyed into the Metatrons Fire of Sinai 'Random Almighty Mega Damage'; as Dante and the seraph class Tyrant-infused-Michael inevitably made battle with YHWH, -in the one True End,- as we grinded within the monolithic emerald obsidian halls, Mystical wonderment spilling forth from our reddened hollow eyes, at the beautiful unlimited expansive world contained within our console/consoling digital unit discs; conformally mapped and etched into the convex hull of our minds,
  Where we were gods, doing battle with every possible creature in morphospace, filleted into overpriced cards and cartridges, for which our strategies meant so much to us though none of us really understood the game,
  When we could quote verbatim every piece of dialogue in GTA2, and get concerned glances from our parents as we conjured veiled imagery of bukake-ladled innuendo which we didn't really understand until six or seven years later,
  When sexuality was a special secret club our elders and the kids in the years above came across so wise for being a member of, rather than an anti-turing test; a farcical ritual where everyone tries their best to imitate the hyper-reality of MTV while hiding the nervous feelings that this whole thing was really meant for someone other than us,
  When creating a whole new lexicon for our self-hood (be it artistic, ******, political or philosophical) felt like existential emancipation; a transcendental rebellion against the normalising identities and semantics of old, rather than an impenetrable circle-**** taxonomy,
  When one day we'd unveil a new term in some text, and it would completely change our outlook on every corner of our lives,
  Or, the next day, when we'd give up and just sit back on rolling banks, and look out at a veil of stars,
  Or the next day, when we'd wonder desperate and painfully, which of the last two was the real pursuit and which was wasted time? (Or was it this day, the day spent building an illusory dialectic between them?)
  Remember when we were in kindergarden, and you had to pass through the kitchen, -the adults zone,- to get to the toilet, and you'd feel both shame and wonderment listening in of the snippets of conversation muttered by these titanic figures; discussing abstruse issues from the newspaper in foreign yet noble tongues?
  Remember when we were teens, and every form-checking observation and question from these same adults was so painstakingly pedantically banal and asinine, that one could only respond with monosyllabic grunts and silent hysterics?
  And remember as 'young adults', when we'd inevitably entered this same dull Aristotelian world of forms, how we'd ask the same adults for advice on filling these paperworks, at once still asemic gibberish, and at once the fine-print that contained and predicted our lives?
  Remember when our dreams for the future were not bounded by the economy of our grade point averages and just how much debt we were willing to incur
                                …
I've seen the best minds of my generation climb into pre-packaged little boxes; and pay through the teeth for the privilege of doing so.  
  Akin to a 'Howl' they call it? Our cry for selfhood? What a scream.
It's not even a cry. Barely a whimper.
More of a zombified groan, completely aware our intrepid Journey of Self is just a pricey guided tour. (Tv Ad's static commodified existential emancipatory platitudes; 'your place in the world' / 'well it's my place and it's my time' urgh.)
And so we march asleep; all lame all blind.
  Trudging through the mind-fields; arguing, unravelling the semantic distinctions between the empty boundaries and the boundaries of emptiness.
  Transcribed down for essay deadlines,  /  assessing our lives trajectory as dead lines,
Becoming increasingly aware,
  We are not the living beings, the dasein, the Übermenschen being actualised; we are the machinery through which the institutions, the factories, the markets and education facilities actualise themselves.
  (While the only acceptable language we can breathe in opposition to these ratcheting pedagogical machines is the lexicon they provide us..
  ('oh, you hate systemic neoliberal alienation; the deestablishment of ontological anthropocentrism? Tell me more about the esoteric uselessness of academic culture.') bluh.)

But

       the more we follow those phantom images we built of ourselves,
the more we become aware they are but sirens; hypnotic dreamlike figures luring us to our doom,
  and as this awareness dawns; and the cognitive dissonances and schizophrenia grows,
       We


                                just try to keep calm and carry on regardless.

Can we really claim the arrogance of having a better path?
The conceit that there's a better cliff we should be guiding ourselves to to top ourselves off?
I don't know,
I reaally
really
just don't know.
..i think i started out with a theme here, but it mostly devolved into venting.
      i finished another year of university recently. i'm not really sure to what extent higher education's given me perspective on life, and what extent it's simply annihilated what little i had.
   from my experiences of student culture, i feel our generation views itself as abandoned by the world, but to good for it anyway. We aren't the bohemians or beatniks or hippies or punks; our drinking and drugging ourselves to death isn't a counter-cultural high-minded rebellion. It's more a prideful self destructive egotism, a self derisive narcissism.   or something. i dunno.
  whether it's from cowardice or a more genuine scepticism, i certainly have no idea what i am (or ought to be) doing in/with/about this world.
J De Belen Mar 2021
Espesyal ang tula na ito kasi para 'to sa taong gusto ko,pero 'di ko alam kung tulad ko rin ba'y gusto niya ko.
Para 'to sa mga taong minsan nang umasa sa taong mahal nila, minsan na naging tanga at minsan na naging hibang sa kanya.

Noong una ka pa lang nakita
'Dii pa sumagi sa isip ko na isipin na gustohin ka
Hanggang isang araw,nagulat ako dahil lumapit at kinausap mo.
Bigla-bigla ka nalang nagkwento at sobrang nanibago ako sayo.
Ang daldal mo rin pala!
Sigurado magiging magkasundo tayong dalawa
Hanggang sa mga sumunod na araw at buwan
Dun ko lang na pagtanto na magiging kuntento na pala ako
Magiging kuntento na pala ako sayo.

Ang dami nating gusto
Pero ang pinaka paborito talaga natin ay ang sabay mag-timpla sa anumang oras ng "Kape"
Wala tayong iniintindi basta may ikaw at ako at ang mainit nating kape na pilit nating itinatanong
Kung bakit nga natin ito naging paborito?
Kung bakit nga ba kita gusto?
Sabay mag kape at nag-kukwentuhan ng kung ano-ano lang para humaba lang ang ating usapan habang nakatingin sa kalangitan.

Hanggang isang araw nagbago nalang ang ihip ng hangin at mayroong 'di maipaliwanag na kadahilan at bigla nalang ako sayo'y tumabang
Bigla-biglaan na may dumating na iba at gumambala sa anumang mayroon sa ating dalawa.
Yung dating ikaw at ako lang,napalitan ng siya at ikaw nalang
Kaya ako nalang ang nagparaya at dumistansiya
Para maging masaya ka na.
Kahit ang totoo,mas masaya ka naman sa akin talaga.
Pero 'diko na pipilitin pa
Na mapasa akin ka pa
Diko na iisipin pa kung sa paanong paraan kita mababawi sa kanya
At kung paano ka babalik sa piling ko habang nasa piling ka pa niya.
Diko alam kung pa'no?

Hirap maki-pag sabayan at makipag unahan sa taong sa iba nakalaan
Hirap maki-pag agawan ng oras at atensiyon mo habang may nagmamay-ari na sayo.
Siguro nga natakot lang akong sabihin sayo ang totoo
Na gusto kita!
Kahit alam ko may gusto kang  iba!
Na alam ko iba ang hanap mo at hindi 'yun ako
Hindi mo ko makita kasi kahit kailan 'di mo ko magugustuhan
Kahit kailan 'di mo ko papahalagahan
Kahit kailan 'di mo ko kayang mahalin kasi ako'y kaibigan lang
At kahit kailan 'di mo kayang mahalin ako tulad ng pagmamahal  na napapadama ko sayo
Pero ok lang.

Sumusuko na nga rin ako sa kakahintay
Pero itong puso pilit paring umaasa na baka pag nalaman mo ang totoo baka magustuhan mo rin ako
Baka bumalik ang oras na para bang may "Tayo"
Kahit ang totoo ang turing mo lang naman sa akin ay kaibigan mo
Kaibigan mo na patago na umiibig sayo
Na hanggang ngayon wala ka parin ka alam-alam na ito'y seryoso.
Walang biro.
Kaibigan mo na laging nandyan sa tabi mo,
Pero iba ang hinahanap mo.
Iba ang gusto mo.

Sana ako nalang!
Sana tayo nalang!
Sana magkaroon ako ng pagkakataong maging tayo
Nang sa ganun ay 'di na mahirapan pa na umasa pa sayo
Umasa na mamahalin mo
Umasa na magiging ikaw at ako
Pero salamat nalang dahil naging parte ka ng masayang ala-ala ko
Salamat kasi naging maganda kang inspirasyon ko
Dahil kung wala ka at kundi dahil sayo
Di ko mabubuo ang ako sa pagkawala mo
Sa piling ko.
Ang turing kaibigan lang
ay sana'y
magiging ka ibigan
sa walang hanggan
Ken Pepiton Aug 2019
Aye, they'll be no wars here
Russian Sci Fi full neo-hero trope
post the untangling of tongues in 2019
We got us a 'ero, sh

it's bueno, like okeh
A. I. imagined
"Better Than Us"
paquin paquin 'skool

global mind making us see us

Bable was a long long time
whole wide world now speakeasy one tongue un
tangled
from
the root of all evil

virtual free speech is like free thinking

Bravo Holmes Noshit Sherlock

Ruskie TV on Netflix, this is a brave
new world

how much green screen clueing do we need

how real can you imagine
this source
being
in A/I termsa All In Art-effectual Inteleosity

Eh, wanna play
the long game? Snak-ish sistere quest on a point

is the whole world chromakeyed to black?
CMYK reality
2-d
3
4 and we know there
is more

life is com
plixitified in timespace with sinkholes

from russian lit gone t' seed
in the days of geek gods in realms of emoting

demoting weight of adrenalin on a globalscale,
umphing
the dmt, just to see men dance.
  try it, its in you, you think dreams

you know you do
think
dreams, hard wireless ness courage
daring

to ignore the backstory and take the hero as
the hearer of the

angels, the forder of the hermetical stream
flowin' tween yen
and yanked

into reality with a pull
that broke the skin, an orange picker memory
eh?
would you know the rod of an almond tree,
if one budded in your mind,

lockt in the box of the coven
entitlement to the
kingdom, after
kings mean
dung and reality tv is indistinguishible,

can you hear Turings's gay chuckle,
how about…

now.
Folk Art, the ruskie actor says, winks and
pirouettes into

a spiral-ation action,
slipping in rorshach assumptions...

beacuss, be a cause
we can,
its
bits and digits all the way down,
the turtles were

never holding up progress.
They could have been repurposed in future myths,

as mutants emerged from sewage,
wait
...
who imagined that,
for real?

Your children must know the truth,
who will tell them if you can't lie?

That is an A, an alpha idea.
Can you think it? But is a Beta,

but beta is always better, eh?

Everybody knows, we sneeze in threes.

Charlie was the enemy, C. Company
Rhose to the occasion

how long ye simple ones
choose ye simplicity?
asif
complexity
this odd is
simple as pi wrapped in
Hopf-fibrations you twist in your soul,

There's the question? A/I (Arisa in this Netflix
re-run of "Better Than Us")
arisen
from,
queried through by
every
whether person's vacillating
on the
width of the eye of the storm
in the  elex-elite
distrix,
as co-related with the
degradation of the
Great Red Spot.
---

Episode seven or so
the russians call coaches coach.

Hey, I call coaches coach,
even ones I never knew. WHO knew ruskies do to,
s'bueno,

Hard to hate a team player, with coach
respect dripping, dark stains on the green screen

where what shapes the future
reality is

visible, If I squint....
Those can't be, can they?...
Potemkin villas,
filmed in 2016, to run in Amerika
now, leading upt to interupt the
intentional animosity
with frivolity in
the 2020 build up of crudescence.

We have seen the enemy and he is we
envisioning good A.I. Art-effectual Inteleos,

as well as Pogo Possum did, Earth Day One,
1970, nigh half a century passed away as
funny papers faded into

the medium of memory -- look around--
loved ones ain't in the funny papers, like regular, back
when ink ruled the imagination involved in
judging
how Tibet was depicted... in our mind's
hearing ears and seeing eyes

shhh,
how about…
can you hear Turings's gay chuckle,

now. It's the test.
Whatif the enemy was still regular fold under oll the otherness of their gut biomes based on the soil amd the clime?
inggo Nov 2015
Hindi na ako natuto
Palagi akong nahuhulog sa mga patibong mo
Minsan ako'y tutulungan
Minsan ay hahayaan

Para kang isang elevator
Dadalhin mo ako sa 9th floor
Tapos iiwan mo ako doon
Pero sana babalik ka sa isang pindot lang ng button

Ang gulo-gulo na ng aking isip
Turing mo sakin ay pabago bago kaya ang puso ko'y pagal
Ilang beses mo na din akong iwanan sa taas
Pero nahuhulog pa rin ako sayo dahil sa dagsin ng aking pagmamahal

Ikaw yung paborito kong patibong
Kahit nasasaktan ako gusto pa din kitang makasalubong
Para sa kaibigan na nasasaktan, napapagod
Dawn Treader Jun 2017
Socrates consumed Hemlock,
Cleopatra embraced the Asp,
Alan Turing ate an apple laced with cyanide,
I, like those before me,
Have picked my poison;
An absinthe-eyed, quicksilver-tongued boy.
He was unsettled when I answered with the truth of his query,
Yes, he is poison,
I knowingly and willingly consume every drop of him,
Not all toxicity is solely adverse,
Radiation treats cancer,
Venom in low doses is an antidote,
Ethanol relaxes muscle and numbs the emotions.
He is my poison and my antidote,
He is the corrosive acid that dissolves gear-stopping rust,
I, in kind, am the poison apple of his eye,
Or so he says,
And so, we two, bask in the destruction of ourselves,
Consuming each other's pain, insecurity, madness, and lust,
Why is it that he, a poison, is the one I trust?
Two toxic individuals clinging to each other. Perhaps there's nothing better he can find.
Yitkbel Dec 2017
The Chinese Room To. Alan Turing
-Reinheit Wahnsinn (Yue Xing ****)
Wednesday, September 5, 2012
10:39PM
Stuck in the chinese room
Trying to spell the word love
Is it ironic having understood
The test to test my doom

They could not compute
love, trying to dispute
Cogito ergo sum
I think,
Therefore I am, to love
does it matter whom

I’ll be back soon
sing the poisonless tune
I’ll be back soon
just watch as it fall the fruit
I’ll be there,
in the shadows of the moon

Stuck in the chinese room
Is it really better a fool
Pillaging through the rules
False false false or true
I’ll keep my cool
Wrath of the fool
Where to where to
The other tree with the fruits

I’ll keep my cool
Wrath of the fool
What to do what to do
The tragedy of my so called truth
Jamie G Nov 2015
Hindi na ako natuto
Palagi akong nahuhulog sa mga patibong mo
Minsan ako'y tutulungan
Minsan ay hahayaan

Para kang isang elevator
Dadalhin mo ako sa 13th floor
Tapos iiwan mo ako doon
Pero sana babalik ka sa isang pindot lang ng button

Ang gulo-gulo na ng aking isip
Turing mo sakin ay pabago bago kaya ang puso ko'y pagal
Ilang beses mo na din akong iwanan sa taas
Pero nahuhulog pa rin ako sayo dahil sa aking pagmamahal

Ikaw yung paborito kong patibong
Kahit nasasaktan ako gusto pa din kitang makasalubong
......***
Luna La'Fae Sep 2015
I'm a fish that's trying to fly
There's so much air out here, I feel like i'm drowning
I thought I knew my way around
But the water is just not the place to be
It's so hard to adapt in this hydrophobic sea
The water's boiling so there's no turing back
I just wish I had these wings which I lack
I wish I knew my way around
And that it weren't the sea to which I was bound
Ken Pepiton Nov 2018
Specialism, electro mechanical circuits,

moving parts yet move, you see, but when we read we bring our senses
inside
privacy can become a public mind, if one is connected, in a giving way,
taking thought,
as the original medium we found message in,
thought takes form
in words,
words take form in things. Right. Check.

Blake feared the objective world was being walled in,
and all the people screamed, amen.
Again

Build the wall, from icons demoted to mites of no more
weight than a tinker's think,
phe-nomenal noment-ation, if we may

Hot and cool both bubbled up as burps, perhaps from the babes
booming through the lies told before the great war.

No future? You allow that thought in your culture?
And shame and blame?
No wonder you choose to lie.

Bear with me a while, share my load, it's light.
There is a hopeful object,
we can go easy into that good night,
the world is round.

Free from Ra and Isis and all, in one fell sweep of the besom.
Broom, besom, means broom, but the effect of an e,

e-lectrix

you give us the fire we'll give em hell  a game ad in the middle of the massage
Call of duty, black ops.
they
You use you eyes to see, it's a with-spiracy,

a hair of the dog that bit you. Eh?
live in bonanza land, 1965.

and so it goes, Dresden, every minute of every day

the walls of your home are coming down,

unless you were born with a cell phone in your father's pocket.

Privacy is calling for walls from the fenced in time after Bonanza.

Ah, too late, ours is an all new world of all at onceness, a global village, happening simultaneous.
extreme with everybody else's business, huge in
volvement in every body's business

we know too much to be strangers
walls fall down, not go up,
the wallbuilding never workded, did it Grandpa?

Nineteenth century student could believe
the factory system
would use the knowledge, hard-won
from books and chalkboards,
to keep him outa the mine.

Now, the information age,

are we the leisure class? Ever learning,
never knowing everything,

but knowing walls and wars do not perform as advertised.

The safety car, that was one with seat belts, 1965.
Our body percept, it changes,
this image of which you are un
aware.

The disconnected minded man, alienated
artist living edgewise to
cattywompus.

My life is my art, eh, not the other way.
Global village information age McLuhan named these things
from Canada.
More expert than my teacher,
Pop art is not a pun, it was a bubble,
that's a fact. The-joke-with-no-story-line-conundrums,
elephant jokes, blonde jokes

Those tests, Turing would approve,
any old A.I. can play chess,
just remember every response to every move ever made in any game in the system,
like the amygdala, your lizard thought-speed brain,
at the top of your spine.

But humans can make funny seem.

Humor comes from a world of un happiness and gripes,
Jose Jimenez was the example they made. Racist, right?
The guy was a jew.
William Szathmary, Googled it.

From <https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Bill_Dana>

Communicating with the logo-label-designer you wear,
messaging the world what? Exactly,
any un thought thought goes unsaid,

but T-shirts and body art, henna's the best,
those send a message with no thought whatsoever.
Same as Redcoats in bearskin hats, what's being said,
same as the judge with a wig?

What is the role?
Why the ongoing act?
It must have changed into that wigged judge from something.

Theater of everywhere, accept allatonce, or die asking y not.

Inward directed seeking
deep meaning
a role that changes

some outside
the future of the future started, a while back. not too far.

No inevitability.
An act of high poetry

envisioning,
the future was friendly

metaphysical value, brilliant, incomprehensible
a man, a thinker,
storytellers the experts say,
need some mud behind 'em. and some snow.

a mother never satisfied with her life,
brittley self confident,

the whole approach to knowing is old.
Diogenes's search for a good poem, with
shifting levels of imagery,
never shall you know,

they work
the way a word works,
the effect.
effect. fect from Latin facere,
sistere mechanically deus
The oracle of the information age
Ah,whatvoiceisheardaroundtheworld,
oh,mine.2018 Mr. McLuhan,
you'd likely lighten up a little.
Toejammspredder was mcluhan I heard on the grapevine.

Hey, mom, I'm on TV.
Up to doctrine, then destination syndrome a hopebubble

He had brain surgery and returned to Catholicism, a safe place.
But he left his vision to television's offspring.
That's about all I know of his work.
Some things shape us for our future, if we allow the time and let patience have her perfect work.
wizmorrison Jul 2019
"A B C D E F G H I J K L M N O P Q R S T U V W X Y Z"

A- anhin ang pag-ibig mo kung mag-isa ka nalang lumalaban?
B- initiwan na niya ang pangako ng walang hanggan.
C- are, meron ba siya nito? Pinaramdam ba niya ito sa'yo?
D- arating sa puntong makakamoveon ka rin.
E- wan ko sa'yo ba't ka pa nagpapakatanga.
F- unny, dahil sa sense of humor niya nahulog ka.
G- inawa mo na ang lahat pero hindi pa rin sapat.
H- inigit na niya ng tuluyan ang pagmamahal na itinarak niya sa puso mo kaya masyadong masakit ang nadarama mo.
I- iwan ka man ng lahat sa mundo, subalit ang Panginoon ay laging nariyan para sa'yo.
J- ust cry. Dapat **** ilabas yan at huwag kimkimin.
K- ahit anong mangyari may nagmamahal sa'yo; pamilya mo at si Lord.
L- ahat ng sakit at hapdi na iyong natatamasa ay may hangganan.
M- aging matatag kang harapin ang pagsubok ng pag-ibig.
N- aisin **** huwag tangayin sa baha na gawa ng iyong emosyon. Lumaban ka.\
O- nly you. Wag kang maniwala. Hindi ka nag-iisa.
P- atunayan mo na hindi siya kawalan. Na kaya mo kahit wala siya sa tabi mo.
Q- ueen, ikaw raw kasi ang reyna ng mundo niya pero salawahan siya. May Emperatress pa palang nauna na mas mataas pa sa'yo at mas mahalaga.
R- espeto, kung meron siya nito, seryoso siya sa iyo.
S- a tingin mo minahal ka talaga niya?
T- iwala lang, wag umasa.
U- nawain mo sana na pag pumasok ka sa isang relasyon hindi ka naglalaro lamang. Unawain mo na sa pagmamahal hindi puro ligaya lamang.
V- ase, yan ang turing niya sa iyo. Nilagyan ka lang ng bulaklak pero hindi pinapalitan ng tubig hanggang sa nalanta ka sa puso niya, in short sa simula ka lang niya minahal pero kalaunan wala na siyang pakialam.
W- ag ka nang magpakatanga next time. Wag paulit-ulit kasi pag nasaktan ka nakakasawa na rin minsan pakinggan ang salitang "ayoko na" pero ang totoo, tanga ka pa rin sa susunod na pag-ibig mo.
X- ylophone. Parang paulit-ulit na pinatugtog ang puso mo at pinupokpok kaya masyadong masakit para sa'yo at paulit-ulit **** mararamdaman ang tugtog ng hapdi at kirot na dulot ng pag-ibig.
Y- ung pangako niya sa'yo balang araw tatawanan mo na lang.
Z- ipper your heart kapag nakamove on ka na. Muli itong magbubukas sa taong... muling mananamasa at mananakit sa puso mo este magmamahal pala sa'yo hanggang sa iyong pagtanda.
Now you know your ABC
Let's play words
And sing with me.
Adler Aug 2015
Somewhere there exists a girl.
She is kind, and soft, and sweet,
And a reader, a lover of books.
She would read every one if she could
People say she looks just like her mother.
She doesn't know what to think.

Some place in the world there is a boy.
He is shy, and peaceful, and small,
He is adventurous, dreaming of planets unknown.
He would wander the galaxy forever,
Trailing after him stardust and clouds.
Nobody notices him.

Connecting them is one person.
They are creative, and caring, and bright.
Protective of the people they love,
Even if those people overlook them.
They feel too small to make a difference.
They want to find a purpose.


Three people, so very much alike.
Simalar in so many ways, yet still different,
Each unique in their own right.
All existing on the same Earth.
Seperate, but never apart.
They like being themselves and each other.

The only downside to their lives,
Is that that have to exist together,
Stuck in the same body, unable to change.
Each wishing to fit their own mold.
But they can't leave each other.

Sometimes the Girl in control.
She is the happiest of them,
She loves her body, which amazingly
Fits her, like the perfect glove.
She wished to make the others just as happy.

The In Between doesn't hate their body.
They like how soft they look some days
Like when they can look in between.
But they still feel wrong sometimes.
They don't feel like they can complain.


The Boy has it much worse than them.
When he has control his body is wrong,
The opposite of what he need to exist.
He deals with his problem though.
He binds his chest and wears button ups.
But that doesnt make it right.

Nobody knows that they share.
Most people are content being one thing.
With having a solid identity.
But it wasn't their fault, it is how they are made.
They didn't ask to be a river.
But they still follow the tides.

They wouldn't change who they are.
They get along fine with each aspect of themself
Compensating, trying to feel whole.
They have tricks to help them feel right.
But perfection doesn't exist.

Dysphoria comes as a storm.
Turing the river into a rushing waterfall,
Full of doubt and self-loathing.
Certain things help calm the storm,
But sometimes it just keeps raining.

They push through the floods
Of anxiety and doubt and fear.
Giving themself a bowtie for the Boy,
A beanie for the In Between,
A skirt for the Girl.
They persist.
And they live.
A poem about my gender-fluidity
Taltoy Jun 2019
Hi, happy graduation, orayt. Unang una sa lahat, nagbalik na si ma long kag pro gyapon sya pero fzd pa rin ang sa rankings haha. Joke lang, seryoso na, gusto ko mag apologize kasi yeah, insensitive ko. Hindi ko man madeny na ganun talaga ako most of the time. At the same time gusto ko rin mag apologize kasi di kita natulungan sa times na may problema ka. Tbh. Di ko alam na may usapin pala kayo sa twitter kasi di na ako masyado naga twitter lately at di ko rin talaga alam kung paano ka tulungan kasi naniniwala ako na every relationship has its own unique language kumbaga, kayo lang nag-iintindihan dalawa  may times talaga na yung mga things na sinasabi ng ibang tao, di talaga ma-apply sa situation nyo kaya may times na ginatry ko nalang na makipag-kumpitensya sayo lalo na sa pingpong. Makita ko bi meg na once nakabakol ka na, makakadlaw ka man, may moment gid na daw makalimtan mo problema mo sooooo sorry if di nakahelp ang gi try ko na way kay daw di man ako ganun ka challenging na opponent. Tbh, gina envy ta ka kay dasig ka makalearn sang mga bagay, lalo na sa sports. At the same time athletic ka pagid so ez **** lang para sa imo na. Maka-inggit na all-around ka, kay ako mabudlayan gid na maabot nang mga makaya mo.
Salamat sa pag hambal sang reason bai. Mga pila na man gidDkami ka bulan ga hunahuna sina. Wala na ko iba pa na mahimo kundi mangayo sorry. Tapos, gusto ko ihambal sa imo na tani makita ta pa ka, hindi sa uste, hindi sa manila, kundi sa mga ospital na. Di ta man makalimtan, kay ngaa man abi diba? By the way, salamat sa pag tiis sa akon na kapartner sa doubles, wala gyapon ta pildi biskan wala ta ga sturya that time. Oh yih.
Lastly, gusto magpasalamat sa memories especially this high school kay isa ka sa 51 ko na mga manghod kag magulang. Then isa ka sa mga special ko na friend kay may side ko na ikaw lang makagets. So salamat gid kag gusto ko ni i-end nga daw


Manjo

Isa sa bumuo ng limamput-isa,
Ang carry ng batch kung sports fest na,
Nagkaroon man ng sigalot nitong hulihan,
Ang turing ko pa rin sa iyo'y kaibigan.

Alam kong magiging matagumpay ka,
Alam kong maaabot mo ang mga tala,
Alam kong patuloy kang magniningning,
Di sana sumuko, yan ang aking hiling.

At kung sakaling may problema ka,
Huminga nang malalim, ipikit ang mata,
Dahan-dahang imulat, tingnan muli ang problema,
Subuking lutasin nang mahinahon at handa.

Hindi lahat nagtatapos sa magandang ending,
May mga panahon talagang **** sa feeling,
Pero lahat nang ito'y mga kabanata lang,
Di pa tapos ang storya, magpatuloy ka lang.

Parating maging positibo,
Di ka nag-iisa sa laban mo,
Nandyan ang pamilya mo,
Na hinding hindi ka iiwan, andyan lang sa likuran mo.
May times gid na kaya ta kita lang isa mag atubang sang mga problema, bal-an ko na bal-an mo gid na. Pero may mga times gid na di kaya na solo nalang pirme, mag abot gid ang time na mangita ka gid bulig, lalo na sa family mo or mga close na tao sa kabuhi mo or tung mga tao na maka-intindi sa imo kay sila  “ ang number one fan mo”. Meg, tani sa sunod di mo na isolo tanan, di man sa ga doubt ko sa kaya mo, wala tana question about that, pero tani madumduman mo man di ka solo, you are never alone.
John F McCullagh Oct 2014
I’m not considered “normal” by policemen on the force.
They apprehended me in public having an*l *******.
From early on I’ve always been attracted to a certain sort of man.
I’ve tried to be with women but that’s not just who I am.

Condemned as an “abnormal”, my security clearance lost,
considered an Enigma and somewhat an albatross.
In war I was a hero in the cryptanalytic game.
Now those doors are closed to me and others just the same.

So much I have accomplished, yet much remains undone.
Their chemicals have unmanned me so this capsule on my tongue
Once crushed with bring oblivion with its bitter almond taste.
The destruction of a once great man, will someone rue the waste?
* * *
Alan Turing, a brilliant mathematician, was a wartime cryptanalyst in WW2 Britain who cracked the German “Enigma” code and thus saved many lives in helping Britain win the war. In the Post war world he was arrested and convicted of committing homosexual acts. Deprived of his security clearance and chemically castrated, he took his own life by swallowing Cyanide. The “Turing Machine” was a form of early computer. As used in my title it refers to his self.
Sydney Victoria Aug 2013
The Pearl Pink Petals Of My Heart Are Wilting,
Their Silk Like Skin Is Turing Rough And Rugged,
Recoiling They Abate Under Your Frostbitten Chops,
I've Wished For So  Long That Your Flush Pink Lips,
Would Tenderly Kiss This Flower Called, A Soul,
I Handed You This Treasure, Warning  You, Softly
That It Was A Million Pieces Just A Short While Ago

But As You Held The Semi-Broken Artifact I Saw,
That Indeed You Had Thrown Caution To The Wind,
That Your Hands Were No Longer A Nest, But A Cage,
You're Eyes Were No Longer Hazel, But Gray,
And The Way You Whisper Goodnight Was Not A
Joy, But A Hate, For I Knew I'd Be Serving You For Another Day...
Just Jumbled Thoughts, It's Not Much Of Poem.. Forgive Me, For I Have Been Saddened
pookie Mar 2016
sitting back and relaxing,
turing the screen on in my head,
i turn up the volume and cant hear anything,
the screen crackles to life,
where once there were colours there is now,

Black,
White,
Gray,

life passing by in a blur,
colours seeped out and washout,
peoples faces blur,
actions lost of meaning,

i tried to change the channel,
nothing happened,
stuck in a loop of the same colours,
the same meaningless expressions and actions,

life is a film meant to be enjoyed in colours and life and sounds.

im lost looking at the black and white screen.
Lost for what seems to be a life time.
Anton Aug 2018
Ma, minsan sumasagi sa isip ko,
anak nyo ba talaga ako?
Mahal nyo ba talaga ako?
Concern ba talaga kayo sakin?
Kase kung gano kayo kaingat
sa mga kapatid ko,
ganon naman katindi yung
pagbato nyo ng mga masasakit
na salita sa akin at
utos na minsan pasigaw
At pagalit pa.
Kung gaano kayo kaasikaso
Sa kanila ganon naman kayo ka
walang pakelam sa akin.
Kahit simpleng pagtatanong lang
Sa akin ng "kumain kanaba?"
"Pagod kana ba?"
"Kaya mo paba?" Wala.
Ma! Ako tong gumagawa ng lahat
para mapansin nyo lang,
ako tong kumikilos para
maging malinis at maayos
Yung bahay habang
kayo ng mga kapatid ko
nakahiga at nanunuod lang ng tv.
Pero hindi yun ang napapansin
nyo ang napapansin nyo parin
Yung kamalian ko,
Yung mali sa bawat galaw ko,
kahit gaano kadami yung ginawa
Kong tama, mali ko parin
ang inyong nakikita.
Simula bata pa lang ako,
Lahat nlang ng mali ko ang
nakikita nyo.
Lahat nlang ng bagay sa akin
Nyo isinisisi.
Masakit, oo masakit kase yung
Akala kong taong magpapahalaga
sa akin, sila pa mismong di ako
pinapahalagahan,
Kung sino pa yung taong dapat na umiintindi sa akin,
Sila pa yung walang **** saakin.
Ako tong bunso e, akala ko kapag bunso yun yung binibaby at inaalagaan ng husto,
Pero bakit ganto?
Turing nyo sakin parang di nyo kapamilya.
Lahat ng gusto nyo sinusunod ko,
Ni kurso na kukunin ko sa kolehiyo yung kagustuhan nyo ang sinunod ko, sinunod ko para lang maging proud kayo sakin.
Sana Pag dating ng araw makita nyo yung mga effort ko at halaga ko.
Siguro...
Sadyang walang kwentang anak ako,
Walang bilang dito sa mundo.
Hayaan mo ma, naiintindihan kita.
Mahal kita ma, mahal mo din
naman ako diba?
Balang araw makikita nyo rin
Ang halaga ko.
Pero siguro makikita nyo lang yun kapag wala nako dito sa mundo. :)
Julia Aubrey Aug 2015
Often times I don't know what I'm going to write about, so I usually end up writing things I have already said, trying to say them in another way.

The art of losing yourself is a very slow and complex situation that happens over a long period of time. For some people that could be years and it seems like it happens in a day, and others it could happen in a day and seem like years went by before they even realized what happened.

Either way, some how it takes a while, whether it's reality or only in our mind, we eventually lose ourselves somewhere in life.

We like to blame false lovers for stealing our heart, our thoughts, and consuming our whole mind, but honestly it's just our soul chewing away at the doubt inside of us trying with every bite to numb the pain.

We choose to blame the lack of income and the multitude of outcome that leaves our pockets turing over and over for our pain.  We expect money to be right at our command, at the tips of our fingers every night, and stacked in our account with tons interest to water the greens.

We feed off of happy memories, expecting life to only be them, and anything other is a disappointment. We are so blind that we can't even appreciate the color that has already adapted in our brains.

The art of losing yourself is worth it, because in the end, you will always find yourself and a little bit more than what you ever dreamed of.

(j.a.r.)

— The End —