i watch you

watching me

we smile

then quickly

look away

if anyone was to know

what we felt

how we talked

about these secret looks

it would


we both are going

through the same


once you and i

are free

we can let our love

for eachother


and live our lives together

listening to the echo

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“Pheonix is experimental courses involving the release of prisoners into society”: Professor Hardon was now speaking to his children “he was thinking of them already as his child and children he was daydreaming of a future world populated by his prisoners released into Society to jerk the world around on HIS string. When you do a book report eye the TUTOR have to grade them please read only CharlaxFables so you will learn something better and eye can pass all of you with highest honors. The Bathroom has been painted and the graffiti is fresh and it has to be one of you. NO almost Screaming Tommy Gunn jumped up and SPEWED his filthy words at the teacher. We think it is the girl that works as a Library assistant for she is not helping the people who are not students. The rules would work in a NAZI society there would be no loud talking in the library they Matron would walk among the computors and swing her MILLYCLUB if someone snickered. The portable classrooms have not yet arrived and the prisoners keep milling about in the library chasing a hope and a dream to the door of a classroom hoping it will magically appear in front of them while Charlax cries.

Author's Notes/Comments: 

this oneis WHO WHO the professor the last one was meant to be something else

View charlax7's Full Portfolio

a frame of entrapment, rough draft

as he looks at his picture,

he forgets the man he used to be,

like a dream thats fading,

with every passing moment,

forgeting the peace in which surronded this image,

wondering who he was,

wishing he could get to know this person,

to learn the ways in which once were real,

but its not possible,

as this person is just an image,

a reflection, of what once was and what may never be.

longing for a better way,

fearing the entrapment of a new photograph,

never being able to esape the barrier,

that surrounds this picture,

like a frame,

forever keeping what is real frm reality,

stuck in an abyss where no light can penetrate,

nor darkness escape,

this person moving farther and farther away,

until all that left,

is the empty shell of a new frame to be filled,

with an image of a soul,grotesquly contorted ,

to a frozen depiction of what once was,

happieness can only be found,

in the rememberence of the image,

forever, trapt in the shell of its frame.  

Author's Notes/Comments: 

what it feels like to loose youyrself, still being able to remember who you were, just not able to learn to be that person once more

View nomadic's Full Portfolio

The Magic Of Childhood & The First Christmas Lights

Childlike and wonder filled.

I walked for an hour.

Where like blood fresh spilled.

Snows tainted with colour.

By the first lights, many hued.

Driving out the night, worry and doubt.

It doesn’t last long, my mood subdued.

I return home to thaw out.

But for a while the magic was there.

The magic of Childhood,

And the first Christmas lights

View rbpoetry's Full Portfolio

"Confession Of The Good Son "

I'm the good son

Father forgive me

For what I've done

But if I didn't quiet you


I'd be dead one

View the1truemojo's Full Portfolio

Snatch Me

2007-2009 Poems

Snatch me away for a minute...

No, for an hour.

For a week, a month.

Just snatch me away.

From all the things

That make sense at a glance.

I am covered with papers,

deadlines, and 'musts'.

Will it matter if I get it done?

Will I matter if I don't?

I who live nowadays mostly,

By snatched moments Of life.

I never desire to be jaded.

Don't reduce me into work.

No matter how meaningful it is.

I am everything that I do- and more.

But now the fog of toxication

Is starting to seep in my veins.

My immunity is weak.

Everybody is too busy to see- I'm twitching.

I used to say, "You are my medicine."

How I wish there is a name for "You".

Hurry up and find me, I can't sway.

Distract and snatch me away.

Author's Notes/Comments: 

~jerlin 5:11p.m. 11Nov07

View angeljerlin's Full Portfolio

Why I Write?

Why I write?

I read too much.

I think too much.

I work too much.

I worry too much.

Why I write?

I am at home too much.

If jobs are not that much.

I don't socialize too much.

I don't go to pub

I can't drink too much

I sip, not drink though

I don't smoke

Only inhale someone's smoke

I don't bet, I don't gamble

I don't, I don't, I don't lie I mean

I am too serious

But I do have humour

Better than spreading rumours.

Why I write?

As a matter of interest, Yes!

For a hobby,

I love pounding the keyboard

I can even multitask, i.e,

Playing my Spider Solitaire

To ease boredom

While working with the WP.

And listening to the MP!

Why I write?

There are so many things to write

So many words to create and recreate

So many language to learn

So many letters to write

So many things to disable

So I write, I write and just write

Why I write?

I love sharing my mind

Whether it's functioning

Or reasoning

Then there's plenty to share

For all the folks out there

Sharing mine own

And sharing what is not mine

They call it repost or reblog

Whatever, however.

I write for amusement

I write because I need an outlet

For all the damn things

I can think of

I see

I read

I hear

I learn

I write, write, write

When mood warrants

I too need to rant!

Ah, call it, not my own self today!

But I need some diversion.

To keep away depression.

Author's Notes/Comments: 

~this was posted from the forum, initiated by Tara~

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Filipino poems


Marso otso, dalawang libo at pito:


Ang itim na panyo

na katerno ng itim na damit

ay hindi maiwalay ng mga kamay

sa lumuluhang pinid na mga mata.



sa ingay ng iyakan,

sa tunog ng lupang dinadakot

at itinatapon

upang ikaw ay ilibing,

sa mga gunita

ng iyong bisig,

ng iyong halik.


Nakasisinok isipin

ang pag-iisang haharapin.


Dagling pinihit ang katawan

at nakipagunahan

sa malayang hangin

palayo sa hukay

ng sakit.

Sa gusaling tulugan

ng mga manlalakbay nanahan

at isinakatuparan

ang pagpupumiglas sa kaloobang

kay tagal ikinadena

ng karuwagan.


ang nagluluksang kasuotan.



At gabi-gabi,

sa harap ng maamong salamin

pinupuri ang tapang

ng mga pulang damit.

Marahang pumipikit

at kinumbinsi ang isip,

Ako ang kapalit ng katotohanan.


Mulat at gulat.

May pulang panyo

na katerno ng damit na hapit,

nakalaylay sa kamay.



sa katahimikan;

sa nawawalang tunog

ng lupang dinadakot.


Dagling pumihit.

Isang salaming bintana

ang nakadipa

sa dingding

at kinukumutan

ng kurtinang puti.


Isang lampara

ang nagbibigay liwanag

sa nag-iisang unan

na nakahiga sa kama.

Isang piping telebisyon.



ang isang orasan

na may tala-arawan.


Tulirong tinitigan ang tala-arawan.

Nangatal ang katawan.

Ang petsa na napagtanto'y:


Marso disi-otso, dalawang libo at pito.


Author's Notes/Comments: 

• isang estado ng pag-iisip kung saan nawawalay ang persona, alaala at ugali ng isang maykatawan at nakabubuo siya ng iba pang pagkatao o persona. Kadalasan, inaakala ng may katawan na nakatulog lamang s'ya. Ito ay kadalasang pagtakas ng isip sa mga mapapait na karanasan.

View kyoksil's Full Portfolio

The Educated

In the gallery of flesh that sits beyond the glass

There sits five students that fall victim to their depth

They study, they wonder, they slack and they change

And they empty their pockets just to appear

The clock will call out and they’ll scatter like roaches

Glimpsing the sky as they shuffle for their floor

Wondering quietly if there’s everything to gain.

Author's Notes/Comments: 

The FischerSpooner reference was against my will.

View sivus's Full Portfolio