cultural Marxism

—to one's own company (original working title: the music you play)








—to one's own company
(original working title: the music you play)





are these leaves pure green tea,

to steep in a cup

designed so quaintly?



i know a type of

music, but not all things


because there

could be drill rap music

which they—call—




it's not a pretty picture
anymore for a degenerate


i think transnationalism

somehow creates a



i just hope we don't fall
victim to this wake of

to be foisted, with gradual

influence—to one's own









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kulturang banyaga (in Tagalog language)








kulturang banyaga










aking natagpuan

       sa 'di kalayuan


akin siya,

       akin siya!










thing theory

thing theory




all are just these props

our heartbeats untranslated


Author's Notes/Comments: 

Reedited 06.23.2023 (Notes/Comments box entry was reedited for misspelled/mistyped/misconstructed words, incl. one in the hashtags (a misconstructed word "ultural..");01.02.2023 [22:25]


I momentarily added only three hashtags (upon glancing and reviewing some older poems while posting newer entries, despite already having similarly grouped hashtags, eg. cultural variation.  They are the following:  cultural variances, cultural transformation, cultural variance.

befriending the plants—

befriending the plants—





befriending the plants

the good plants and the bad plants

to tell which ones are—

Forest I








Forest I



Sleeping while awake

A log must notice mushrooms

Feeding off of him

Author's Notes/Comments: 

A "haiku" that emerged from this unholy time of day (wee hours) which must be a direct result of an experience or, maybe, just another well-constructed, affected poem to depict or evoke something that is yet to be discovered or untangled (all according to time).  It could be a philosophically directed theme since it is using vague references (my unusual metaphors) despite the use of ordinary language.

Politically Correct Christmas

There is a Jesus fetus
And condoms on my tree,
Because today is Christmas--
And Christmas is PC.


My Santa is a lesbian,
Her skin is dark as night--
She came along with tranny Claus
With clitoral delight.


She promised free abortions,
Free tests for HIV,
While spreading guacamole
On my GBLT.


I thought I was in heaven,
I thought I was in hell,
When I heard Santa moaning
Hoe-moe with anal bells.


For Christmas is for giving
Your lover in the rear--
So rejoice my little ones
And spread the Christmas queer.


         December 25, 2013

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