Monthly Archives: January 2013

set

please to meet me

my name is you

i sculpture the grass

cover it white

free my mind;

and i’m a poorman too

in harmony with the smoke

i have myself a silver straw

and from it i breathe

a life on sheets.

i’m not in fear

i feel so near

and i’m out there.

read these and

know me well ——

enjoy.

here’s my empty handshake.

 

from ” deviationcummeditation”

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sadness

if you just notice as we

travel back and forth to the mental hospital

behind my sleepless yellow eyes near to bloodshot,

flickering sight, shivering  nerves and epidermis,

the shaking fingers as it holds the murderous cigarette

and my lip decaying from its nicotine, the taste of gin

in my tasteless throat  and speech  becoming incoherent;

the burden of knowing what life and death are all about

and carrying it on my four year old suspended wings ——-

your god, my devil, that angel, those whores, this love between us;

i was just 1/4 of a shadow away from you anyway…

the chemical burning sensation running down my bloodstream

and the wasted body caved in to its druggy effects,

sandwhiched paranoias and the poetry of having a bit

of insight  of who you are; all of these and of nothing and

not of everything and of everything and not of nothing

and behind it all, my soul leaped and st. vitus’ danced around you…

if you just notice anything at all…still i wouldn’t  care that much

just read the title backwards, maybe you’ll find your name

now already tied all over my veins.

 

from ” deviationcummeditation”

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grape

the big sky. the inspiring sunset.

the early death. the hardening nipples of

earthly bodies.

they made loved beside the flirting yellow fire;

it was one of the finest moments.

sad as the hard rain.

the crying sunshine.

my knight in shining armor

shimmering, glowing.

last breath of warmth.

the shames returned to their proper places

where it can’t be touched.

random things somehow set us free.

a thrown out memory to remind  what

a good time we had.

ironic is the afternoon that mimes

a trampled soul unable to encompass

the constant teasings of solitude that are

formed of unknown but a continuous

reading  of defying definitions.

a mirror of passive dreams.

the days incense, and tomorrow.

from ” to woodshed “

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inside marvin’s room

slowly decaying old man, lays peacefully on a bed near heaven

and enjoying the smiles of blinding lights of innocence.

lady of the setting sun, wrapped herself on vivid colors of laughter;

caress the time, caress the tears. it’s all beautiful memories

like they never wanted more from life.

 

from ” to woodshed “

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untitled

birthdays. deaths.  you rush on to me and say ” cover me “…

but i’m down, i’m down…

is there any timing like good timing?

we have no time at all.

from ” a mess of lovepoems “

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some psychological thoughts about maria teresa diokno

probably , she heard the blowing wind whispers or seen a phoenix.

the blowing wind dances above the trees  and let several leaves to fall;

she fell too without a sound  and soon she  starts dancing and put

the phoenix in a cage. the blowing wind dies out.

from ” a mess of lovepoems”

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one

sometimes one do not seek of a much better love to feel.

set the death for the passion of its heart.

saving their selves without pretending

from the unknown existing and thrown

in the world of its eyes.

 

from ” a mess of lovepoems”

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