For a forgotten god,

that did honor all that is tomorrow.

Yet he seen none all of the now,

it kept filling all his,

to be seen and saw that existed none all of his prophetic eye.

Then did not do,

all he can was,

to cast his world what he wanted it to be.

Now we are living a shared eye from his

own dreaming,

soon only soon that all of 

its stanzas and all of that immortal quatrain.

Will all of us,

feel all his pain,

and manifest his visions

that a light that should not have been ours.



®Artsydhude 97-18

™XENOphagz, XenoGrapx


Now that you. . .

. . .

are not worth my time anymore.

Since I did pry to try.

Ever I have been faithfully,

at your mercy.

What more really I can get out of your cage.

Anxiety of my Annie.

You will always stay true,

nor either leave me.

You would and will always be my skin.

Depression of my Diana,

sure I can make you leave out of me,

to enter into my own dojo at the subterranean level of my mind.

Manic madness of my MJ,

You can make all of those who would have been in,

yet to focus you in a way. . .

I can make a life in efforts of concentrated unlimited fuel.



®Artsydhude 97-18

™XENOphagz, XenoGrapx

. . . I am to presume all of the years,

and the muddled,

scrubbed and soiled,

tattered and shed.

None at all by my own assumptions

since all of these lovely anxieties,

all of my disappointments,

are nothing to someone but,

an emotional tantrum.

Yet someone who had a paper saying,

that is the only case.

Then she hands me a paper saying,

take a number,

take this pill,

and shove everything.

Since all of my life’s trial

are none but all

that matters to no one.

Only to myself

I am to see.



®Artsydhude 97-18

™XENOphagz, XenoGrapx

Chicken pride

My subjects are the sense of my own pride.

I am proud to be an owner of my emotional assumptions,

which takes none of what

truth can show,

truth can give.

For my evidence has no bearing,

of any objective facts lies at the core 

of the divine which leads me.

None to cry nor try,

what can be contrasted but always compared,

that is where I,

grew up on.

grew into.

and where all my family loved since then.

I am to break,

I am to shake,

I need to bake,

So at least the ones do come up,

need not to change,

for they can correct it,

themselves for their life,

incomparable from my pride.





Water of my melon.

Have you seen a past,

full of life?

Have you known that then is not now?

I used to be,

But I still do,

I longed for a hot sexy and steamy ones,

Yet when I looked at you.

I can be sweet in your face,

but do gag on my own when you are not around.

I do wonder how Adam,

how he took a bitter tasting fig,

not knowing what he got into.

not knowing what it meant to keep blaming.

not knowing what uncomfortable life they are getting into.

I would like him more than all of the ones, who fucked up the real eden.



®artsydhude 97-18


Pwm 20.6x

Your extreme is not mine to resist,

Mine is not even yours,

Thing is why do I bother give not just,

but all of my edge of my sanity.

And you tell me I am always mad at you.

Think not of the event of a minute,

while I come down from the eternity of my own madness,

thus you keep pushing.

When I do, you back up knowingly 

you can see and observe for yourself,

I am not me.



®artsydhude 97-18



Sa isang iglap,

Sana. . .

Sa iyong akala,

Sana. . .

Sa aking isipan na walang kataposan,

Sana. . .

Pero kung may pangako,

Alam ko. . .

Pero kung ang aking panampalataya ay totoo,

Alam ko. . .

Merong loob ang aking puso at diwa.

My terms are not the glossary of my days.

Were it up to me,

All of my assumptions,

presumptive, and predictive attitude;

will always be thorns of my shoes,

is the gum on my Jordan’s,

are my hindrance towards any of my goal.



®artsydhude 07-18


Imageless verse

O.n : N.o l12


An arrogant fool who keeps bitterness as his own mistress,

has an ignorant heart.

He can try to contemplate a life of baggage of past,

comparing the goodness of love of company to the present problem,

where all his life can be as good as now only to undo its harmony,

After he can’t accept and appreciate what is in front of him.


© Ohms 2018.

NmBc 16e

Will I see you, future?

Can I talk to you, Past?

I know I am always with present second.

Then if all these gather at one point.

They will do what it means necessarily to see me,

In strings.

Be torn apart.

Will I ever separate all of ’em.

Or can they . . .

In harmony

In balance

On a prescence.

Whatever it and may it all be.

Then all of it will be in thought or memory.

Or can I apply all things daily.

Dear Past,

You and I have given each other so much of life,

Yet none can compare all my experiences with you.

Seems to be somewhere along the lines of trust and betrayal, you did remind me where to place those things somewhere along the line.

I can now discern that distinct difference between what was, what once held and things does repeatedly makes sense and those doesn’t.

I tried working with you, it was good. I tried not to, it didn’t do me good either. Used your model with all the lessons and yes I have learned the best ones.

Here we are in 2018, 34 years later; however and how much you can come up again and again. Thank you, still I do hate you though coz you were are always kicking me in the shins adding always “It should have been, ‘dapat’, it could have been.”

 well tough luck for me,

At least I am lucky enough to have you at my back, never in front.