January Apocalypse
Wrote this last January 28,2009 during the Sinulog Festival in Cebu. Heartbroken back then, basically, and was reading To Kill A Mockingbird. It's incomplete. The original and complete copy of this poem I left back in Cebu, and I can only remember the first stanza.
This was never supposed to happen
I never wanted it to pass:
Scout couldn't humor me no more,
She had me treading glass.
Jean Louise is gone... I'm the only one who weeps
Because she left me standing here, in the January Apocalypse.
poem by Leani Auxilio
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Related quotes
What They Will Say
Some times, I wonder if I write for the future.
That may seem like a strange statement to make.
Forty-three years ago, I wrote a poem
that at the time no one wanted to know.
Now it is my best-loved poem
read by countless people around the world.
Thirty years ago, I wrote two poems
and each one won me an award,
but at the time I wrote them,
no one wanted to know.
All of which makes me wonder
if what I wrote in my yesteryears
that then none wanted to know.
Could they all be popular now?
Today I started collecting and retyping
short stories I wrote twenty years ago.
At the time, publishers and agents
didn’t want to know.
Now twenty year on
I am wondering what they will say.
24 January 2009
poem by David Harris
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January Stars
Ten below and falling fast
Those days of summer were long past
My horoscope said you'd come back
I have my doubts, you see
And as I watched the mercury
And thought about the prophecy
A new moon and an early thaw
I watched the door for you
If January stars came true
And as I gaze at winter stars
The second house conjunct with Mars
They would suggest that we'll be one
I have my doubts, you see
If I maintain a skeptic's eye
And train the other on the sky
I'd eat my hat if it came true
I'd probably eat yours too
If January stars came true
If January stars came true
Now I'm in a pretty mess
It's getting warmer I confess
My horoscope said you'd come back
I have my doubts it's true
And as I watched the mercury
And thought about the prophecy
A new moon and an early thaw
I left the door for you
If January stars
If January stars
If January stars came true
January stars
song performed by by Sting
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Fuente, Cebu City from Jones Street
Fuente, Cebu City from Jones Street
I am back here. This used to be my place.
Busy street. Smoking jeepneys. Unknown
Girls. Yesterday’s news littering on the
Streets. McDonald’s opening 24 hours.
Hot thin crust pizza at Pizza Hut.
Park view hotel always filled with
Japanese and Koreans, No room
For Us, but anyway I have taken
A room for 500 a night at YMCA.
Nothing’s new really, except for this
Brown girl following me. Cheap sir.
Just cheap buy this DVD, triple x.
Diagnostic centers. Old Julie’s
Same bread. Cebu Doctors. How
Much money shall I spend for
My new blood test? Doctors always
Require these tests, and I am fed up
With nothing normal. Everything seems
To be wrong.
I am back here. I will do nothing.
What is the use? No one knows no one.
Anyway, I’ll pass at Red Ribbons
And try what I cannot eat.
Black forest cake and ice cold coke
For a drink to death. Bordeline.
Diabetic. Sweetest dreams tonight.
Like mother: who cares? Enter death.
Go away rules. Get lost prohibitions.
poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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The girl from Cebu City
I know a girl from Cebu City
I have never met her but I know of her
through her lover… a much older man
who lives in my city.
She is much younger
very beautiful… a bit like a child
He has arranged for her to come for an
extended visit
He is worried that people might think
he has bought and paid for her, lest
her feelings be hurt
I say she is too young to understand…
He says he will throw money at the problem
and take her here and there, spoil her,
buy her things…
only to take her mind off things, of course…
I think it is ironic that this girl will go back
to Cebu City with more possessions
thinking herself richer for the experience –
not having been bought and paid for, of course…
and that this man from my city will be
all the poorer for his judgment….
for buying the paper queen
a heart of stone.
poem by Yuri Duraan
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I remember...(How could I forget?)
I remember your skin, 'cause it's perfect when we meet,
I remember your voice, 'cause without it I can't speak,
I remember your noise, as I'm taking you out of your mind
I remember your pressure, as it made me melt into the sublime.
But mostly, I remember you crying and asking me how someone could love a monster,
I remember you threading your hands through my hair pulling my face to you so you could see the fear written,
I remember you telling me that you'd understand if I left.
I remember comforting you as person A, B and C walked away,
I remember calling you, already knowing what you needed to say,
I remember you calling me angel, so where did that go?
I remember everything, even if it wasn't real, so tell me, is that so?
I remember you giving me everything
I remember giving you my all
I remember watching you put me on a pedestal,
I remember watching myself fall.
(January 18,2009)
poem by Deona Skidmore
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Barren Waste
Mount, ride my Prince, son of our Queen,
Lead us to Gold.
Pale is the horse, the dim white horse,
That I now do hold.
Our Queen sent us here, to Cebu,
Most cruel land.
Here we stand, awaiting her command,
Take my hand.
Now you will be lost, silent and pale,
Son of the Queen.
Lead us to Cebu, Land of Gold,
Never to be seen.
poem by Jerome Brooke
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Stupid To Believe
Im so stupid to believe
That you actually liked me
Im so stupid to believe
That you actually wanted to be with me
Im so stupid to believe
All those words you said to me
Im so stupid to believe
That we'd last forever
Im so stupid to believe
That you still had feelings for me
Im so stupid to believe
That you'd actually take me back
And most of all
Im so stupid to believe
That i would never care enough
to be heartbroken again
But here i am
Writing this poem
You never liked me
You never wanted to be with me
We'd never last forever
You'd never take me back
And i'll always be heartbroken
poem by Taylor Renae Smith
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Memories Of Us
First time I meet you was back in December and it was evening
You want me to come to you, but I was shy so you came to me
I remembered I was so cold and just couldn’t say one word
When we talk I didn’t want it to end
I could listen to you talk on and on
You know how to carry on conversation
Craziest thing happen was when we was in same class in January
I found out we lived in same neighbor and ride the same bus
I just couldn’t be any more jubilant
Memories of us
Was crazy, fun, excited and adventures
I hate when you have to leave
I hate all those pointless fights
I love it when you called my name from far away
I love it when you get so jealous
Memories of us
Back when we use to hang out every weekend
I look forward to see you
You surprised me when you come
I remembered all laugh, fun, our ups and downs and being with each other
Good Friday come and you came to my house knocking on my window
At the middle of the night, I thought it was romantic
We just can’t get enough of each other
I don’t know what else you could do
Keep it coming baby
I loving you every minute I spend with you
I remember when you left and you put on music and your car go boom, boom away
I love it and you were dancing
I found out about you that you are most honest, speak your mind,
Caring, nice and fantastic guy
Memories of us
Will never be forgotten by me
poem by Christina Phan
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No Poem Is An Original
No poem is an original
everyone who writes
poetry thinks their poem
was an original, it just so
happens that their poem just
surfaced to the top
of their mind first, so they
were able to write it.
Everyone has love, hate
compassion buried deep
in their soul.
Poets are able to bring
all of this to the surface,
to construct, add the words,
but it is not an original
idea, for the poet because
they wrote it now, it
becomes an original for them.
Who has not heard a song,
read a poem, story or book,
seen a movie and said,
to themselves, hey I had
that same idea.
Only thing is, someone else
brought it to the surface
of the mind, and wrote it first.
Even this poem I'm writing
now is not an original
someone out there
has this idea buried
deep in their soul.
So if you have an idea
for a poem, get busy
write it, don't wait,
or you won't write an original
start today,
don't delay.
wrote 2-2-07
I Am Stupid To Believe
Im so stupid to believe
That you actually liked me
Im so stupid to believe
That you actually wanted to be with me
Im so stupid to believe
All those words you said to me
Im so stupid to believe
That we'd last forever
Im so stupid to believe
That you still had feelings for me
Im so stupid to believe
That you'd actually take me back
And most of all
Im so stupid to believe
That i would never care enough
to be heartbroken again
But here i am
Writing this poem
You never liked me
You never wanted to be with me
We'd never last forever
You'd never take me back
And i'll always be heartbroken!
poem by Taylor Dumm
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Remember When..
remember when i would cry
remember when you would just pass by
remember when you left
remember when i was blessed
remember when you left me
remember my whole family
remember your doughters and your sons
remember that they are not the only ones
remember all the trauma you caused
remember when our paths were crossed
remember when you wanted to say good bye
my world shattered because you were to me a nice mom.
i dont think you will remember this
because this might seem like nonsense.
poem by Jocelyn Padilla
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For an Otter
Three Years: I am to always be here with you.
Even the days I was not (you were not)
Sufficed by the many hes or shes, lips for kissing
Or maybe, just once, settled for sweetness
Tossed around in my bed, (your bed)
Lead me (perhaps you too) to doors of salvation
But never apart for long to ask of me who I was, and once
Come after I'd gone missing in January, from last January
And was not around to hear you but
You'd remembered to always speak in French to me
So I could always return to remember to say to you
That you were still smiling and even after so long
Strangers melting together in summer's sun goodbye
I wanted for you to stop kissing me
Only to sleep in your hand with mine
To be too wordy, too distant
To argue, To agree on
The brilliance in:
sedation, grinding teeth, tired eyes, jittery knees,
Your songs and such that are not about me, and
Poems I write and read to you of January from last January
so far away is the plane you caught this morning
Too many states away are my hands from your hands
- What if we had not been lovers fighting against love?
I don't want to know
I am to think I would have lost when I did not have to
I am to always be here with you
poem by Belinda Nelson
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I'm Goona Copy
I’m surely gonna copy,
Be it poem, DVD or floppy,
And win Nobel Prize and trophy.
I will copy poets all
Whether they are big or small
Ya! No one can make me stop
Till I scale a fame’s highest top.
At the beginning of age
When God made men in his own image
He started this “Plagiarist” trend
Which I am not gonna end.
And what is creativity?
If not an ability to hide
a source of theft
with impunity.
When there is nothing
original under the sun,
Why should I copy not
and deprive myself of fun.
So I’ll copy them word by word
be they Pablo, Shakespeare or Wordsworth.
I’ll copy them from morn to evening
And would excel HITESH and Kipling.
Can you prove, they were not plagiarist,
And had not copy from some poet’s list.
You can inform FBI, KGB or CIA,
But I won’t stop my wanton ways.
And I will copy without shame,
Till I earn big name and fame.
I will copy till people start copying me,
And then and then only I will
give up this vice with glee.: -)
(This poem is a sequel to poem, “hay all you people that like to copy” written by Melissa Schreuder)
Dr Hitesh C Sheth
19/05/2009
poem by Hitesh Sheth
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An original artist is unable to copy. So he has only to copy in order to be original.
quote by Jean Cocteau
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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A Linda Song
Music: Barry Manilow
Lyrics: Enoch Anderson
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
He never wrote a song for Linda
He wrote as though he lived alone
He wrote of dreams that end
And of sad brave men
Inventing worlds he'd never known
But he never wrote a song for Linda
And she was right there all along
Loved him back to life
When his luck ran low
But he never wrote a Linda song
He nearly broke his heart at writing
Linda kept him from despair
Standin' by his side
through the hungry days
But he hardly seemed to see her there
And he never wrote a song for Linda
And she was right there all along
The one real thing in his crazy world
And he never wrote a Linda song.
When the bills piled up
He couldn't pay
He couldn't dream no more
So he hitched a ride and he rode away
And he left a note for Linda by the door
By the door
When times got rough he'd phone her
Once or twice she took the call
Then she changed her number and she turned her head
And Linda never looked back at all
He'll never write a song for Linda
And she was right there all along
All he knows is no one understands
And he never wrote a Linda song
No he never wrote a Linda song
song performed by by Barry Manilow
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Horoscope
At one time, I used to read
my horoscope every day,
just to see what the stars
had in store for me.
It always seemed that
they were writing
about someone who wasn’t me.
The things they said were going to happen
and the dates they gave all went by,
but nothing ever happened.
They even asked those who wrote it,
did we get it right?
It made me wonder if they knew
what they were doing
or was it just one big sham.
I got tired of reading them
and now only do it for a laugh,
because whatever they say
is never going to come true.
Well, at least not for me.
Therefore, if you read your horoscope
and read religiously
just take it with a pinch of salt
is the advice I give to thee.
No one can predict
what will happen just to you.
Now I just like the mystery
that each new day brings
and it is much more fun that way.
19 January 2008
poem by David Harris
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I Wanted A Poem For The Morning
I wanted a poem for the morning
A poem to begin the day with-
A poem which would give my life hope -
I wanted a poem
Which would say I am alive
A good poem a kind poem
A poem which would make others a bit more happy-
And as so often
I wrote a poem
And left it as a question for the longer daylight and
the longer night which also is our life
beyond the morning-
poem by Shalom Freedman
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A Lover Returns
'Where have you been? '
she wanted to cry.
You've been gone so long.
You left me dry.
No more sugar,
nothing sweet.
Sometimes baby
I couldn't even eat.
And here you are
walkin' through my door,
thinkin' you're welcome
like before?
Too much time
passed me by.
Too many tears
I did cry.
Where've you been?
The lovin's gone.
So back out of my door
and just move on.
'Where have you been? '
she wanted to cry.
And as he left
she wanted to die.
poem by Edwina Reizer
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Forever Sleep
You drifted into that forever sleep
away from the harshness of this world.
You now abide where angels sing
in the comfort of our lord.
Friends you left behind miss you
and will only be reunited with you
when their time comes along.
You earned a rest
beyond the sunset of your days.
Those you left behind smile
as they recall the humour in you.
A trait that will be passed down
as long as there are ears to listen.
Rest now my friend you earned it,
let the blanket of love from our lord
surround you always in his kingdom
in your forever sleep.
23 January 2011
Author’s Note:
This poem was written as a tribute to a friend of forty years,
who passed away on January 10 2011.
poem by David Harris
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I remember in 1968 when we were in Cannes, in the festival, and we were supposed to be there 10 days, and the second day the festival collapsed because the French, you know, film-makers raised the red flag in the festival and ended the festival.
quote by Milos Forman
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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