Mobius Stripper

Libertad

Umbro

Excellent

Eleanor Rigby

Ladies & gentlemen, Mambo # 5!

If it was defintiley rape, I'll accept her & help raise the child (who's faultless) still but I'll k*ll the rapist with my bare hands. Forget the courts, I'm out for justice.

If it wasn't rape, well, that'll be her problem, I won't make it mine.

I'd ask Pat Metheney to compose the soundtrack.

It's spontaneous combustion... it just happens if it is meant to happen.

"I love you" are the hardest words I can ever say. It might be simply out of sheer emotion & may not last. Then it wasn't really love even if I meant it at the time but such words are harder to take back than to say.

Better for me to say, "I care."

"I'm sorry" is easier because I know I mean it & it gives me the opportunity to right a wrong.

maybe if she's willing to quit her job? lalo na kung kayang-kaya mo naman siya suportahan.

Mahirap magmahal ng MPA, magiging unfair lng sa kanya pag ndi mo sya kayang hilain palabas sa kanyang trabaho.. kahit nagmamahalan kayo, yun idea palang na hindi mo sya kayang buhayin.. although i tried, muntik na ako sumabay sa paglubog financially... ayaw ko na sana maulit..

It's not just turning her back on her profession but her lifestyle & attitude as an MPA as well. Kung mahirap para sa kanya, siguro mas mahirap magmahal ang MPA ng lalakeng matino hesa magmahal ang lalakeng matino sa MPA.

MPAs, wa'cha think?

Yung, "Wala na kasi akong malapitang iba e. Pautang, pwede?"

Because her family was racist & she was justifying it. Pweh!

Charge of the Light Brigade

Death is truly a test of love & a condition for freedom.

What would you have me do?

Find a powerful protector: and choose a patron,

like the dark ivy that creeps round a tree-trunk,

and gains its support by licking at its length,

to climb by a ruse instead of rise by strength?

No, thank you!

Dedicate, as others do

my poetry to bankers? Become a buffoon

in the base hope of seeing a less than sinister

smile quiver on the lips of some Minister?

No, thank you!

Dine each day on a toad?

Own a belly worn out with crawling?

Show a skin that's dirtied quicker than my knees,

and with a supple spine do tricks to please?

No, thank you!

Pat the goat's neck all over,

with one hand, water the lettuce with the other,

a dealer in senna for rhubarb lovers, I suppose

always wafting a censer under someone's nose?

No, thank you!

Urge myself on from lap to lap:

be a little maestro pacing round in a trap,

or navigate with oars made from madrigals,

and old ladies' sighs the breezes in my sails?

No, thank you!

At some editor's in the City

edit his verse for pay?

No, thank you!

Try to get myself named the high Pope of councils

held in the taverns by imbecilic scoundrels?

No, thank you!

Work to be a presence known

for one sonnet, instead of writing many?

No, thank you!

Not reveal a talent that amazes?

Not be terrorized by the morning papers?

Not say endlessly: "Oh, could I but see

myself in small print in the 'Mercury'!"

No thank you!

Calculate, show fear, grow pallid,

prefer to make a visit than a ballad?

Get myself presented, write petitions to the king?

No, thank you! No, thank you! No, thank you!

But... to sing,

to dream, to smile, to walk, to be alone, be free,

with a voice that stirs, and an eye that still can see!

To cock your hat on one side, when you please

at a yes, a no, to fight, or ... make poetry!

To work without a thought of fame or fortune,

on that journey, that you dream of, to the moon!

Never to write a line that's not your own,

and, humble too, say to oneself:

My son, be satisfied with flowers, fruit, even leaves,

if they're from your own garden, your own trees!

And then should chance a little glory bring,

don't feel you need to render Caesar a thing,

but keep the merit to yourself, entirely

in short, don't deign to be the parasitic ivy,

even though you're not the oak tree or the elm,

rise not so high, maybe, but be there all alone!

Dalawa na kami ni chipmaker

Purple Haze

I walk the Earth & run with the ball

I always feel like somebody logged in for me

Either red, white, blue or gold as long as they are on black (the dominant color.

Spray jacket over tank top, track pants & running shoes w/o socks.

Be!

Everyone is entitled to the happiness true love has to offer.

It's better than psychotherapy. :upside: :mtc:

Because people want to affirm what they feel, they do smart things when they feel smart, dumb things when they feel stupid, bad things when they feel wicked & good deeds when they feel like saints.