Philippines poems that are original and profound. Explore a brilliant collection of philippines poetry that you can’t stop reading. These poems on philippines are published by poets from all over the world and are sure to keep you High On Poems!
Intended to violate the omnipresent, stillness unzips the inviolate – truth. You walk through a legend: To test the chastity you need to dip your hand in a very hot oil. A sleepless summer night descends on the hill violins
I saw a place with a thousand islands Stretching from the clouds to the deep Meeting people with talents of grand Liberated together, not by a pity demand A picture popped through my head Filled with colors blue and red
Untie the knot, patriarch, the broken kiss was intimidating. The backhoe picks up the devil, it was within you when you were casting stone at the fear. The pagan was covered with leaves raw and pailful; belief in a thought
No more. Can’t take no more. Struggle with sanity is draining me dry with each passing day. People pride themselves in pruning their puritanical egos to ‘adhere’ and ‘belong’. Should I too? Because i ain’t me no more. Do I
What is love Is it hate turned upside down? Is it affection, inclination or predilection or a perilous and precarious position? May be that old lane of my town where that moment still prevails and gives me solace, where once
This must be for real? gasped the yellow budded calyx That must be true. Answered the wasp. Time for me to lapse into another – those petals. But which of you is for real? Questioned the bud again. Said the
In dreamland the fairytales are in danger.The dream meanies are on the loose.They have scrambled Humpty Dumpy and they have kidnapped Mother Goose. So meet me in Sandusky or somewhere in between it’s a covert operation so come by submarine.
Majestically it spins. Eons in place. One of countless. Silently reflecting, glistening in the void. Dance of the worlds graceful silence, choreography of the cosmos. All spinning, dancing to creations music. Immense it all be. Yet, finding comfort in the
I’m scrunched in partially obscured view seating, hands at my temples, elbows pressed to the balcony rail. Look up, Sherman Alexie! I squint through borrowed glasses, willing your signature pen to drop, your writer’s eyes to find me. I’m cheap.
That was the first beautiful rain in my life. I saw her in the drizzling rain. My heart pounded within my wet clothes. She never came again; Except the rain that comes regularly. That was the last beautiful rain in
We played the game, threw the dice at times we got lucky with the game. although caught in a web of lies… though a picture locked in a frame. Life gave pain, left us with misery, and empty people fought
Indeed if I play the victim can’t feign but it’s a fact Balance forever skewed short changed not exact Deprived of a fair share in an equitable level field In situations near similar had always but me yield Moments utter
Sweet aching sounds come From an unknown land, Breaking the organised chords of life; They enter into pure soul. This sound that was once the melody, The motion which afforded the paused breath A dancing life like a mermaid And
Family first, And old saying, As if from a western, Almost sounds rehearsed. Yet when I tip my cap, On this dusty afternoon, I appreciate the folks, Whom without life’s a lonely moon. When carrying across, Metaphorical plains, Dry and
The house is quiet Now you’ve gone No more music No love song Emptiness rings out loud Where we would dance Without a crowd The house is quiet No more laughter Just memories Gathering dust Shadows that used to be
When I find myself alone and restless.. My feelings come out to play like children taunting me. Loneliness , worry, sadness, anxiety .. I try to ignore them, i accept the emotions, try to work through them. I talk myself
Heavenly Father, I focus my thoughts on You. In the palm of Your hand, how can I lose? Your grace is sufficient for every need. All things are possible if I will only believe. Divine power through me is flowing.
Life’s daily cycles: Mind thinks, feels, dreams. Intellect reasons; Heart craves; The “I” deluded, thinks it acts, It enjoys, it suffers; Waking, dreaming, sleeping cycles. Each in Cycle their own, revel; In the dim background; The silent ever Wakeful Awareness,
Not contentious I will put you in moon for another rain. The invisible sex ticks the gravity of mouth that eats the murder. My body becomes an emperor even for the dust. Not the naked cloud. Blood colors the name
Thoughts wander in my mind, but my vision ignores them. Words tangle around my tongue, but do not fall out of my lips. My fingers are intertwined around the pen, but my hands don’t write. My heart beats every voice
I can say without a doubt that you did not simply follow others you made your own path though it was and is hard one of those untrodden trails where every rock twists your joints and leads nowhere but up
Hoisting the bisexuality on a figurine, I crawl back to anxiety. The primitive instinct was taking over the stitches on a snake. What do you want from a moon for the drooling mouth of a seashell? Braiding the breasts against
Day comes and night follows Night goes and day comes Hours turn into days, days into months Every day that goes by Increases our age by days, months and years. From babies, we grow into young kids Then teens, followed
‘O Rana¹’ The odds are heavy The match is five to one Or may be more Our enemies united For our annihilation And knock like Ocean waves At our doorsteps Surrounded From all sides We are With no help coming
Frustrating February… dull, desolate, alone, I loiter through the narrow lanes, for I still don’t have a room of my own. The hands they used to hold, the oaths of love they told, I have witnessed them vanish in time,
Between the breathless breeze of day, I stood and wondered what to say, A sunlit sea, a cloud dressed night, a fawn dressed in the morning light, So much to choose , so much to paint, before my days grow
Desk, empty because, you bullied her. Left her feeling worthless. Took all her courage, made everything seem hopeless. Never the one to ask. All she wanted was acceptance. She never wished, anything, but a friend to feel her presence. Hurtful
What makes me smile Makes me feel warm and fuzzy inside Like being wrapped in blankets awhile On a winter’s evening, with a merry fire beside. It could be a sudden downpour On a blistering day Or an innocuous knock
Hooked on to a few things, Breaking free is not easy… Got to kill these habits, They’ve been making me lazy… Somethings I do make me, Feel so awkward sometimes… But old habits don’t die fast, We’ve heard it every
If there were a spell or mystic enchanted charm I would keep them for myself and bring you to my arms My soul would show a shine the crescent moon never wore Then hug you throughout time….. closer than sea
It was not dark in a killing field. A primitivism has prevailed upon an intimate hate crime for brand mnemonics. A bronzed moon will come out tonight. The glances were missing and you – cannot see properly. The blue bird