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Workshop

I sit at the center,

the red metal stool

carries my weight.

the girl in blue stares

at me with tiger eyes.

I face the other side, drag

the red metal stool as

it screeches—

as though my thoughts are

wailing.

The man in eyeglasses

shouts, “what’s the central image?”

the girl in blue nods,

not once

but twice

as the man hammers

my poems

on the table.

I face them

carrying

my own weight,

he hurls the sheets

up in the air,

Our eyes witness

as my syllables

fall

like loosened

leaves of a tree.

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Chance

The knifed horizon bleeds,
Its streaks gleam—
piercing my eyes like air.
I steal a look backward
the translucent rays
penetrate under my arms
I tried to cup its light
but still, it leaves me in the dark.

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Crap

The
tiny
pink
petals
dance,
thumping
in the
rhythm
of
the
wind,
my taut
hands
scribbling
melodies
of
words—
nothing’s precious
other than the
cadence of my syllables,
thumping of the petals
and scribbling of melodies.

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Ang Kakusog

Usa ka sagpa ang natilawan nako
sa akong bana kagahapon, nihawid ko sa puno sa narra—
nagtuo nga gunitan pud ko niya taman sa iyahang ginhawa,
matod pa sa akong bana,“wa kay pulos, usa lang
ang naay pulos sa imo, mao na ang imohang
lawas na kanunay nakong ginagamit
sa akong pang-adlaw adlawnga kusog!”
gigunitan nako ang puno sa narra sa ikaduhang higayon,
sa paggunit nako sa narra,
nidagan ang paghuna-huna
nga dili tananggahi nga
butang
kay
makasugakod
sa imong
kabug-at,
sama
sa narrang
gigunitan
nako
karon
ug
kagahapon—
dili makahatag
ug kusog
sa maskin
unsang
higayon.

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Trumpo

Pagmasdan ang pag-ikot ng trumpo
sa aking mga palad—
bawat pag-ikot ay nauukit ang mga markang
kasing lalim ng mga maiitim na mga balong
Natatanaw ang blankong kawalan—
Sa bawat pagsayaw ng trumpo sa aking mga palad
ay sumasabay ang himig ng pagtumbang
hindi nagagamot ang iyak at sakit na dumadanak
mula sa ating mga isinumpang mga mata.
Ang trumpong paulit-ulit na sumasayaw
at paulit-ulit na natutumba ay hindi tumitigil
sa pag-ikot hanggang ang mga marka’y
kasing lalim na ng pakong nakalublob sa
sa mga balong sumasalok sa bawat
patak ng luhang dumadaloy sa ating
mahahapding mga mata.

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Pain

Andy Warhol’s knives—
Scratching your gut
Leaving it with a muzzled dot.

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Random Thoughts

A flickering red bulb,
scent of vanilla atop
of a glass table,
white embroidered curtain
undulating in
the wind,
picture frames of
irregular shapes-
facing the doorway,
an array of books
above the closet with the
T.V on,
playing
Beethoven’s symphony –
the wooden door
bangs,
orchestrating
the pulses of the wind.

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The BEST thing I ever had

The note says I miss you...
I kept it inside my "antediluvian" wallet
I lost my wallet, just this afternoon
I searched for it thrice this time
My brother took it-
Leaving no single centavo.

I cried-
The wallet opened-
accidentally,
the note showed up
I smiled
snatching the note from my wallet

I flattened it on my chest

I MISS YOU too,

the words echoed silentlyon my mind.

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Just a Thought

The girl is dancing with her mother
Counting dragging steps
Thumping- (pants)

The girl - swaying,
happy like the independent
blue sky above-
starless
tearless

The girl is tearless?
Dancing?
Swaying?

devoid of fright
Like Darkness leaving the independent star
Tonight.

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25-15-21 v 2

The Night is so selfish
Like YOU

Yes, I said You

Once again,
I said You

Insane like You

Bitter like You

Deceptive like You

You...
You...
You....

Nothing but You!

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Die (revised)

I wanna die
inside
your womb,
Rot in your belly-
while meat devours my
tiny little fingers,
Slowly
as it gorges my flesh,
Your claws that knead
My breathing
space
digs a hole,
As they dump me like shit-
The flavor
so bitter,
so sweet-
like
someone’s
selfish
PASSION.



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Die

I wanna die inside
your womb like
a stolen fetus,
I
wanna
die
inside
my
mother's
rotten
stomach
The flavor
so bitter,
so sweet
like
someone's selfish
PASSION.

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Keep clicking,
keep digging
keep searching
for nothing.

Keep speaking,
keep ranting
keep blogging
for nothing.

Keep your thoughts
Keep your emotions
Keep your passion
Keep yourself

Keep your all
Keep you pen and paper
Keep your secrets

BUT don't ever forget to
keep my

w
o
r
d
s

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Assumption

One night
I was sitting beside this blatant city
with a hurricane of thoughts
fucking my mind,
hovering like vultures.

One night
I was dreaming inside the yellow roomwith no thoughts-
thoughts i wished would linger
like scents of blossom in the air,
there was nothing,

there was nothing,
only

YOU!

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2 vowels count

All you freakin' idiot
Stop messin' with my shitty stupid life
Like swarm of flies pestering your own shit
Fucking inside earthly graves
Playing, throwing-up
Giving birth to allof people's
Freakin'
Messy
Shitty
fuckin'
LIFE.

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Happy Hours

Monday begins with smiles
Of Tuesday blues and sighs
of laughters and Wednesday goodbyes
seeking like Holy Thursday in a lie
Good Friday's a perfect time - get high
Black Saturday's devoted reading catcher in the rye
Why not Easter Sunday
Spending
overtime-
eating
Franchesca's
delicious pie.

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Objet d' Art(revised, Workshop)

I sit at the center,
the red metal stool
carries my weight.
the girl in blue stares
at me with tiger eyes.

I face the other side, drag
the red metal stool as
it screeches—
as though my thoughts are
wailing.

The man in eyeglasses
shouts, “what’s the central image?”
the girl in blue nods,
not once
but twice
as the man hammers
my poems
on the table.

I face them
carrying
my own weight,
he hurls the sheets
up in the air,
Our eyes witness
as my syllables
fall
like loosened
leaves of a tree.

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Objet d' Art

What a chance to see my words juggling
Like atoms in the atmosphere
All so young and fledging
Skeptical with eyes like a seer
My Thoughts oh they're screaming
Yelling, shouting, shrieking cries they are here...
What a chance to witness my syllables falling
Like loosened leaves of a tree
Lonely pieces drizzling
spotting the canvas like tea
My Thoughts oh they're laughinglike morons, so dear of insanity...
What a chance to discover my craft vanishing
Like silent whispers of a baby
So melodious and disheartening
Tainted blush of an art, oh so crappy
These chances 1,2, 3... counting
With my eyes, frail and misty...
What a chance to unveil such kind of Art
Deviant and Unbecoming
Like my numb and bleeding heart
Pounding, Beating, Throbbing
How I would like to conceal some parts
Of my lonely and sweet remembering,
my thoughts in the clouds
floating, dreaming...

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Poem

This body of letters and rhyme
Does an act of a mime
Every fragment and symbol
smells like whiffs of alcohol
The spaces between the words
Create meaning in our world
All solid diphthongs in a line
Gives credit to our wasted time
To compress a thought is tough
Like one can't produce a puff
in a single chance to blow
like my poem-
so hard to let go...

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They Said

She said Love me,
No, said he.
She said, then just kiss me,
That's a sin, said he.
She said, hug me as gesture,
No, I can't!, said he.
Why said she,
Because you're not her ...
,said he.

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6 lines can define a Night

The night is cold and numb-
peaceful and tranquil.
Its smile as enigmatic as Monalisa's
Its cry as deafening as cicadas
The night is sad and doomed
dismal and glum.

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Facade

Hiding behind this mask
is the face of guilt and repentance
the eyes like innocent stars in a tearless
gloom of blanket, waiting, waiting to be
cut by your jagged weapon-
that weapon where I will rest my blood
as it is tainted with pure and sour tang of sin
ready to be kissed by my thin and pale lips,
as its skin slowly peels off.
Yes! The night and its singing lullaby
gently puts me into trance
loosing every inch of connection as it
touches my very soul-
my being.
The mask and the night-
both worlds meet
branching the meaning
of hiding behind...

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You are my Mother
You are my sister
You are my Nanny
You are my friend
You are my Enemy
You are the dumbest creature
I've ever known.
You are the worst Friend
I could ever have
You are the most self-centered entity
You are the wickedest mortal
ever existed
You are my Soul
You are God
You are You!

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U R

You are my Mother
You are my sister
You are my Nanny
You are my friend
You are my Enemy
You are the dumbest creature
I've ever known.
You are the worst Friend
I could ever have
You are the most self-centered entity
You are the wickedest mortal
ever existed
You are my Soul
You are God
You are You!

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I

I am mystery
and I defy truth!
I am anonymous-
and I really don't exist
I can love nature,
I can love people,
I can love trees,
I can love flowers,
I can love animals,
I can love shit,
I can love filthy souls,
I can love bleeding hearts,
I can love frustrated Individuals
I can love failures
I can love Sympathy
I can love Happiness (if I want)
I can love Myself
and
most specially to those creatures that don't love me.
I can be me,
I can be you,
I can be your alter ego
I can be anyone...and perhaps,
I can be the God
you have been longing to see...

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Words (revised)

Words
are
hungry
wolves
foraging
in
deserted
alley ways
with
thick saliva
drooling
on the pavement—
Eyes of
burning flames
moon
for preys
under a
starless
doomed
sky.

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Words

Words are haunted
Like a hungry wolf under a starless night
Words are seeking
Like a traveler lost in a paradise
Words are fragile
Like a newly born infant
Words are briliant
Like precious stones of pearls and diamonds
Words are whispers
of syllables and cadence----
Words give birth to Life
Like Air--
Words are Ideals
Like Love and Friendship----
Words are transcendental
Like Longinus's Sublime
Words are soothsayers
deceitful and feign
Words are like these stupid-
cuts and alphabets-
Endless.
* Version 1 would be Georgianna Kae's.:)
I lost the original version just a while ago. :(

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Creation + Demise (revised-Birth)

The razored slit stretched
A lullabying shriek—

Scissors cut wired flesh.

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Creation + Demise

Scissors cutting umbilical cord
A shrieking cry beneath
the translucent window-
5 fingers waving.

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Off to Nowhere

I sobbed.
A lazy morning that was.
Kisses.
Smiles.
Forgiveness.
Sketching the embossed memories of yesterday
Putting real meaning in life's hay
With the melting mold of the clay
Together we'll be happy each day,
everyday
Embracing with eagerness within us,
Fragmented reasons of our colored fuss-
I'm leaving...

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Q's

Do I know you?
Do you know yourself?
Are we strangers?
What's familiar with the word familiar?
Is there something truthful about lies?
What's special with abstraction?
Do I have to write such kind of crap?
or just leave the last line with this?

An excerpt from my original blog

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Tied

Love me like there' s no yesterday
Cry like there's no tomorrow but first,
Kiss me like it's forever.
Say goodbye for a second
And never leave me until red turns blue-
You may answer yes or perhaps no
For I'll share everything with you.
Together we will journey with hands interlaced
Singing, lalalalalalalala-
rhythms of love and passion
as we dance like there's no goodbye
Dancing like angels in the sky.
Paint, write and draw
Pictures and memories of me and you
Smells like black coffins and dark chocolates,
Isn't that so Gothic?
Our promises(dreams),
Yes, triumphed-with our hands interlaced!
P.S For my Best :)

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25-15-21 (revised)

You curl
in the air
like
pallid vapors—
your frolic soul,
belly dancing—
a tip toeing
Shiva,
as I blow you
inch
by
inch
vanishing
before
my
misty eyes.


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25-15-21 (original version)

your smoke...
curling in the air like pallid vapors,
swaying, dancing, serenading-
slowly vanishing- whispering goodbye.
your soul...
filthy like a greased chimney,
black, tainted, corrupted-
hallow as Satan's skull.
you,
weak,vulnerable, emotional,a chaste red rose-
thorned and bleeding.
P.S, To You!

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Yada-Yada

Forgive me not,
Of my insincere thoughts
devoid of laughter-
Of total abstraction.
Forgive me not,
Of my cruel intentions
painful as a knife-
Of sweet satisfaction.
Forgive me not,
Of my deceitful lies
A sense of mockery-
Of unresolved resolution.
Yes, I will Forgive YOU
Of your sincere thoughts,
honest lies and good intentions
For I know no Sin
as nefarious asyours.

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Yada-Yada

Forgive me not,

Of my insincere thoughts

devoid of laughter-

Of total abstraction.


Forgive me not,

Of my cruel intentions

painful as a knife-

Of sweet satisfaction.


Forgive me not,

Of my deceitful lies

A sense of mockery-

Of unresolved resolution.


Yes, I will Forgive YOU

Of your sincere thoughts,

honest lies and good intentions

For I know no Sin

as nefarious asyours.

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Spades

We slept while the world was awake.
I kissed her for the last time,
it was different for she was asleep,
and it felt like a confined
happiness was emancipated.
We played fairly.
The last Queen’s throw captured the soldier-
it was the sin shared by the Queen.

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Footsteps

A gypsy came along-
cupping a handful of water
from the oasis.
Sweat ran through his
torn corduroy,
bathed with the deceitful
rays from above
as he gasped sipping what
was left like a dog eating
after a week's hunger.

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Voyage

It is an anchor on a ship-
catching the hook to be moored
as passengers wave their hands-anticipating each of
the waves' curves to rest.
The vagueness of each word
speaks for its purpose-
unintentional intention.
Unuttered utterances,
forgetting the technicalities.
The spell of my voyage
has eaten the ambitions of my dream-
my world and the struggling haven of my desires.

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Bare, total darknessshed
behind the broken
wall of fears
magnifying through the
translucent streaks of moonshine

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The Secret

Covered faces with darkened souls,
seeing gallery of faces at the podium
time's running- counting 3,2,1
green's waving-
a blotted color of red unveiled.

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