Philippine Poetry

[[dx]]

Another fave poet, Emily Dickinson


If I Can Stop One Heart From Breaking

If I can stop one heart from breaking,
I shall not live in vain;
If I can ease one life the aching,
Or cool one pain,
Or help one fainting robin
Unto his nest again,
I shall not live in vain.

[ramvingar]

Someone post a happy poem quick! Please!! Hehe

[C2russ]

tagalog naman! nabasa ko sa pinoy poetry forum.
na-alala ko lola ni juan!


Ang saya-saya ko
Ako’y niligawan mo
Kilig to the bones
Haba ng hair ng lola mo.

Sinagot kita, gwapo mo kasi
Saisang “angel” na nahulog sa langit
Saan pa ba makakahanap ng isang tulad mo
Puso ko’y tumitibok-tibok

Dinala mo ako sa restaurant
First date natin
First holding hands
Tawagan pa natin ay “kisses”

May kung ano akong naramdaman
Nais isiwalat ngunit,
Nahihiya ang aking puso
Paano nga ba masasabi ito?

Katagang mahirap bitawan
Baka ika’y masaktan lamang
Ano ang dapat gawin?
Ako’y nahihirapan na

Heto na! akin nang babanggitin
Upang iyo’y malaman
Upang puso’y matahimik na ng lubusan
Bakit nga ba ngayon pa? badtrip!
“may kanin ka sa gilid ng bibig mo!
….sa kaliwa”

[Lili]

Dapat yata sa akin yang tula na 'yan ah. lol. Buti kanin lang, meron dati akong date may dinuguan sa ngipin. Turn off.

[ramvingar]

Ahahahaha C2! Thanks! Not exactly the kind of poem I had in mind, but it served it's purpose!

[C2russ]

sorry i cant find a picture for it tho.

[[dx]]

hahaha..yak..dinuguan..

[driftwood]

Originally Posted by Lili

Dapat yata sa akin yang tula na 'yan ah. lol. Buti kanin lang, meron dati akong date may dinuguan sa ngipin. Turn off.

Yung isang kaibigan ko rito (isa dun sa buntis), brownies naman... kausap niya yung crush niya at the time, di ko alam kung ano pinag-uusapan nila, basta ang sabi niya dun sa crush niya "That's so sweet!" without realizing she had brownie bits in between her teeth, hehehe...

[Lili]

May isa pa nga akong kausap may mayonnaise sa corner ng lips. I hate mayonnaise pa naman.

[C2russ]

Originally Posted by Lili

May isa pa nga akong kausap may mayonnaise sa corner ng lips. I hate mayonnaise pa naman.

sana hinaluan mo ng ketchup - para thousand island.

[c0kelitr0]

...

[kunoL8]

that's a really good poem. very sweet.

[Josepepe]

worm wood

[manileño]

^ sr. josepepe. welcome to samahan!
aqui podemos discutir de todo.. en ingles, tagalog pati en español.
taga Vegas ka pala? bienvenido

Originally Posted by C2russ

tagalog naman! nabasa ko sa pinoy poetry forum.
na-alala ko lola ni juan!

huwaaaat? ano kinalaman ng lola ko sa muyang (muyang = kanin na naligaw)
gago ka ha, lola mo kulubot!!

[kunoL8]

aah, muyang pala tawag sa kanin na ligaw. tawag kasi namin dyan ng mga kapatid ko mumu. lolo ko makalat kumain kaya laging may ligaw kung saan saan. pati sa tenga't hinlalaki umaabot.

[Josepepe]

Originally Posted by manileño

^ sr. josepepe. welcome to samahan!
aqui podemos discutir de todo.. en ingles, tagalog pati en español.
taga Vegas ka pala? bienvenido




huwaaaat? ano kinalaman ng lola ko sa muyang (muyang = kanin na naligaw)
gago ka ha, lola mo kulubot!!

gracias, manileno. en vez de discutir prefiero leer sus mensajes. si no estoy ocupado tal vez?


josepepe

[drfeelgood17]

Originally Posted by manileño

^ sr. josepepe. welcome to samahan!
aqui podemos discutir de todo.. en ingles, tagalog pati en español.
taga Vegas ka pala? bienvenido




huwaaaat? ano kinalaman ng lola ko sa muyang (muyang = kanin na naligaw)
gago ka ha, lola mo kulubot!!

sana naman wag pagtripan ang aking mga ninuno. Patay na sila....lagot kayo!

[C2russ]

Originally Posted by manileño

^ sr. josepepe. welcome to samahan!
aqui podemos discutir de todo.. en ingles, tagalog pati en español.
taga Vegas ka pala? bienvenido

huwaaaat? ano kinalaman ng lola ko sa muyang (muyang = kanin na naligaw)
gago ka ha, lola mo kulubot!!

sira! hindi sa muyang ko na-alala ang lola mo sa 1st stanza, 4th line = "haba ng hair ng lola mo"

pero ikaw na-alala kita sa 2nd stanza, 2nd line "Saisang “angel” na nahulog sa langit" naks!

gago ka rin! bati na tayo! ok!

[Wonderboy]

This photo reminds me of a poem "Love with an open hand" or something to that effect.

This is my favorite poem by T.S. Elliot (I think I already posted this before):

The Love Song of J. Alfred Prufrock
**
LET us go then, you and I,
When the evening is spread out against the sky
Like a patient etherised upon a table;
Let us go, through certain half-deserted streets,
The muttering retreats ********5
Of restless nights in one-night cheap hotels
And sawdust restaurants with oyster-shells:
Streets that follow like a tedious argument
Of insidious intent
To lead you to an overwhelming question … ********10
Oh, do not ask, “What is it?”
Let us go and make our visit.
*
In the room the women come and go
Talking of Michelangelo.
*
The yellow fog that rubs its back upon the window-panes, ********15
The yellow smoke that rubs its muzzle on the window-panes
Licked its tongue into the corners of the evening,
Lingered upon the pools that stand in drains,
Let fall upon its back the soot that falls from chimneys,
Slipped by the terrace, made a sudden leap, ********20
And seeing that it was a soft October night,
Curled once about the house, and fell asleep.
*
And indeed there will be time
For the yellow smoke that slides along the street,
Rubbing its back upon the window-panes; ********25
There will be time, there will be time
To prepare a face to meet the faces that you meet;
There will be time to murder and create,
And time for all the works and days of hands
That lift and drop a question on your plate; ********30
Time for you and time for me,
And time yet for a hundred indecisions,
And for a hundred visions and revisions,
Before the taking of a toast and tea.
*
In the room the women come and go ********35
Talking of Michelangelo.
*
And indeed there will be time
To wonder, “Do I dare?” and, “Do I dare?”
Time to turn back and descend the stair,
With a bald spot in the middle of my hair— ********40
[They will say: “How his hair is growing thin!”]
My morning coat, my collar mounting firmly to the chin,
My necktie rich and modest, but asserted by a simple pin—
[They will say: “But how his arms and legs are thin!”]
Do I dare ********45
Disturb the universe?
In a minute there is time
For decisions and revisions which a minute will reverse.
*
For I have known them all already, known them all:—
Have known the evenings, mornings, afternoons, ********50
I have measured out my life with coffee spoons;
I know the voices dying with a dying fall
Beneath the music from a farther room.
**So how should I presume?
*
And I have known the eyes already, known them all— ********55
The eyes that fix you in a formulated phrase,
And when I am formulated, sprawling on a pin,
When I am pinned and wriggling on the wall,
Then how should I begin
To spit out all the butt-ends of my days and ways? ********60
**And how should I presume?
*
And I have known the arms already, known them all—
Arms that are braceleted and white and bare
[But in the lamplight, downed with light brown hair!]
It is perfume from a dress ********65
That makes me so digress?
Arms that lie along a table, or wrap about a shawl.
**And should I then presume?
**And how should I begin?
******.******.******.******.******.
Shall I say, I have gone at dusk through narrow streets ********70
And watched the smoke that rises from the pipes
Of lonely men in shirt-sleeves, leaning out of windows?…
*
I should have been a pair of ragged claws
Scuttling across the floors of silent seas.
******.******.******.******.******.
And the afternoon, the evening, sleeps so peacefully! ********75
Smoothed by long fingers,
Asleep … tired … or it malingers,
Stretched on the floor, here beside you and me.
Should I, after tea and cakes and ices,
Have the strength to force the moment to its crisis? ********80
But though I have wept and fasted, wept and prayed,
Though I have seen my head [grown slightly bald] brought in upon a platter,
I am no prophet—and here’s no great matter;
I have seen the moment of my greatness flicker,
And I have seen the eternal Footman hold my coat, and snicker, ********85
And in short, I was afraid.
*
And would it have been worth it, after all,
After the cups, the marmalade, the tea,
Among the porcelain, among some talk of you and me,
Would it have been worth while, ********90
To have bitten off the matter with a smile,
To have squeezed the universe into a ball
To roll it toward some overwhelming question,
To say: “I am Lazarus, come from the dead,
Come back to tell you all, I shall tell you all”— ********95
If one, settling a pillow by her head,
**Should say: “That is not what I meant at all.
**That is not it, at all.”
*
And would it have been worth it, after all,
Would it have been worth while, ********100
After the sunsets and the dooryards and the sprinkled streets,
After the novels, after the teacups, after the skirts that trail along the floor—
And this, and so much more?—
It is impossible to say just what I mean!
But as if a magic lantern threw the nerves in patterns on a screen: ********105
Would it have been worth while
If one, settling a pillow or throwing off a shawl,
And turning toward the window, should say:
**“That is not it at all,
**That is not what I meant, at all.”
******.******.******.******.******. ********110
No! I am not Prince Hamlet, nor was meant to be;
Am an attendant lord, one that will do
To swell a progress, start a scene or two,
Advise the prince; no doubt, an easy tool,
Deferential, glad to be of use, ********115
Politic, cautious, and meticulous;
Full of high sentence, but a bit obtuse;
At times, indeed, almost ridiculous—
Almost, at times, the Fool.
*
I grow old … I grow old … ********120
I shall wear the bottoms of my trousers rolled.
*
Shall I part my hair behind? Do I dare to eat a peach?
I shall wear white flannel trousers, and walk upon the beach.
I have heard the mermaids singing, each to each.
*
I do not think that they will sing to me. ********125
*
I have seen them riding seaward on the waves
Combing the white hair of the waves blown back
When the wind blows the water white and black.
*
We have lingered in the chambers of the sea
By sea-girls wreathed with seaweed red and brown ********130
Till human voices wake us, and we drown.

[ramvingar]

The City In the Sea
- Edgar Allan Poe

Lo! Death has reared himself a throne
In a strange city lying alone
Far down within the dim West,
Where the good and the bad and the worst and the best
Have gone to their eternal rest.
There shrines and palaces and towers
(Time-eaten towers that tremble not!)
Resemble nothing that is ours.
Around, by lifting winds forgot,
Resignedly beneath the sky
The melancholy waters lie.

No rays from the holy heaven come down
On the long night-time of that town;
But light from out the lurid sea
Streams up the turrets silently-
Gleams up the pinnacles far and free-
Up domes- up spires- up kingly halls-
Up fanes- up Babylon-like walls-
Up shadowy long-forgotten bowers
Of sculptured ivy and stone flowers-
Up many and many a marvellous shrine
Whose wreathed friezes intertwine
The viol, the violet, and the vine.
Resignedly beneath the sky
The melancholy waters lie.
So blend the turrets and shadows there
That all seem pendulous in air,
While from a proud tower in the town
Death looks gigantically down.

There open fanes and gaping graves
Yawn level with the luminous waves;
But not the riches there that lie
In each idol's diamond eye-
Not the gaily-jewelled dead
Tempt the waters from their bed;
For no ripples curl, alas!
Along that wilderness of glass-
No swellings tell that winds may be
Upon some far-off happier sea-
No heavings hint that winds have been
On seas less hideously serene.

But lo, a stir is in the air!
The wave- there is a movement there!
As if the towers had thrust aside,
In slightly sinking, the dull tide-
As if their tops had feebly given
A void within the filmy Heaven.
The waves have now a redder glow-
The hours are breathing faint and low-
And when, amid no earthly moans,
Down, down that town shall settle hence,
Hell, rising from a thousand thrones,
Shall do it reverence.