Sometimes when I explore these things in my mind I feel like I'm torturing myself 'coz I couldn't care less.
All these years I have been a brain of many thoughts.
Raindrops is a poem written by John Marc Cruz and shared with The Ugly Writers under the theme Terrible Ideas for the month of July. Raindrops Stuck, In the middle road. Sky’s discharging its emotion. And maybe I…
Di ko alam kung bakit sa simple mong ngiti akoy masaya..
Masaya ako lalo na pag boses mo aking napapakinggan..
napapakinggan mo ba ang bawat tibok ng puso ko sa tuwing...
ako ay nahuhulog sa iyo??
I should never look back again and cry
This is the best for me if I don't wish to die
Past is done and shall never be repeated
Present is here and this is what I needed
Just sing a happy song in public
With words you can't recall
Even if it's all wrong.
What with the secret heartache
You carry within
Forget about him and move on
Never look back
Mend A painting by Alison Albrecht Mend By: Kelli J Gavin Busted. Battered. Beat up. Broken. Blue. Is there a way? A way to mend? To mend this beleaguered heart? This heart that was given to me. Gifted to me.…
Not just drops of salty water
but remnants of painful slaughter
of heart and the soul perhaps the psyche
of a person who did not know the
way to beg for consideration or mercy
Pinag titinginan ng mata, Tila masama ang balak nila, Mga matang mapag pantasya, Wala naman akong kasalanan diba?, Hindi haba ng suot ko ang makakapag patigil, Sa kanilang pag iisip ako ay gigil, Inosenteng katawan na kanilang pinagnanasaan, Kanilang moralidad…
Tonight the moon shines so bright. The moonlight reminds me of that night. That one night we had a fight. We promised that we’ll stay despite. A promise that nothing can tore us apart. With the moon being our witness,…
Battlefield is a spoken word poetry written and shared by Merry Princess Joe to The Ugly Writers under the theme After The Storm for the month of June. Battlefield I’m stuck between wanting you to stay and wanting…
Naalala mo pa ba ang huling paalam nyo sa isa’t-isa? Nakasuot kayo noon ng kayhabang puting damit at sabay nyong inihagis pataas ang inyong sombrero. Tumigil ang mundo mo noong kinamayan ka niya pagkatapos ng martsa nyo. Doon unang nagsimula ang paghihintay mo sa muli ninyong pagtatagpo.
Holding tight to her green and arid sierra shawls,
she peers over a fresco valley set in leprechaun gold.
Like a megalithic Buddha she rests on a boulder's shoulder
beneath a thulian sky lit by a gingerline disco sun.