Bakit sa bucket.

Tell me what is the first thing in mind,

what to do when a job or a career has ended.

List it some say,

Do it anyway,

or have tech do it for U.

Damn it all to pieces.

I’d get me one way ticket to the land of the rising sun,

where the hot mead doesn’t bore the soul.

In a stupor of wanting more 

a blonde aryan who can never speak,

but the butt and or it busts 

your alcohol down where it 

follows to where Nidhogg speaks.

Aye. . .

that be the land;

of ice and stone,

of the love of all gods dead and reborn,

of all wisdom in a mead out of a horn.

Then tell me you puny humans,

scurry about what life you can lead,

into a nonsensical greed of the weed,

that do become nothing into the air we all breathe.


©oam® all artworks by artsydhude 97-18



The vengeance of bs

Kiss me mighty April,

For your rains left me spoiled

to know

you are mine,

to keep me sheltered upon your month.

Yet March never did give me reason

to eat up all that cake alone.

Only  a love of memories that woman did my face,

left me smiling two years removed,

standing on a corner what could have been,

Yet I was naive to partake of that sin.

Walked away,

a lifetime not regretting.



®artsydhude 97-18


Deflect to Reflect.

A feather was given to me by a crow.

It has rainbow colors.

The crow looked at me sideways.

I pulled yellow,

I saw myself at 80’s.

I pulled blue,

I saw myself from a toddler into my 8th year.


I saw none but I felt all of the fear I felt

through all my years.


All of the opportunity missed and experiences.


Felt all the range of rage,

to all my loneliness of all my sorrows.


My immediate and relatives

the ones who loved me,

those who can say but not even dare show.

On a whim of a breeze, I feel the last feather

Shown a color of what people are,

shown the true test of a person’s love and affection.


why even bother to give when one can not even leave

his ego behind, 

and ends what a past can hold.



®artsydhude 7-18


What becomes,

of a damage that has been done.

of a life broken none by myself.

of a heart yearning and longing,

someone can fully understands;

what it means to love.

what it means of hate.

and the dignity that hate of love does relate,

for the pride of love never hates only to have an emotional fate.



®artsydhude 7-18


Pho-m .2x

You keep telling me

Sure whatever, I try to understand.

You keep telling me,

Sure whatever, I give all I can to and for you.

You keep telling me,

I give and you take everything for granted.

The only answer I give is,

to show you how much everday is a blessing to me you are here.

No matter how much my mind twist and turns,

I know you can be there.

So you tell me,

all of material things that you keep buying,

have more importance

than my. . .

. . . worth;

. . . impotance,

. . . hope

for our sake of our livelihood.

Then you keep saying,

I bought that for you,

 so I can look good,

while people dare 

and not care 

 of appearance.



®artsydhude 7-18


Open letters, fr:Hope

To despair,

I would like to tell you, you can live on everyday grieving.

Yet your emptiness is wallowing nothing but a trauma of mountainous shitpile.

Get your mind out of yourself, you will see you are crying over nothing

you are murdering yourself and will get into a bitter rage that one day will soon make it more damaging then fixing a little of yourself.

In time you will see, you can smile again.

Hope I can see you not smile, but to laugh more than cry.
Sincerely Hope.



®artsydhude 7-18


The choice. H.

On a whimper of soft breeze out of the east,
I am reminded of the homeland i knew once.

I took my feet and walked knowing no sense of direction.

I hear a crow spoke in the air, a loud cawing in the distant west.

Once a tale told me,

Go where the sun cannot follow the moon.

Chase that moon into the lands of the sun.

I gave chase to the sound.

I saw a dove perched and stared hard at me.

She said,

young man follow your heart.

young man your mission is not here.

dont follow where you can’t fly.

I awoke with a friendly tongue that slurped me into stickiness.

My love, my darling my Bridget. She once held me as her friend forever.

My darling dog who I once knew when she still with me then.

A familiar tone graced my back.

Pulled me, and gave me a loving tug thena noogie on my hair.

Kuya Paul is here.

I welled up all of my tears,

As I saw the one who recently joined,


She gave me the warmest hug and held me.

A light smile near, all of the loved one dissapeared.

I know him,

He always knew I’d know him by his light smile.

Brother Raphael.

My dear one, let me ease all that pain you come to let go of.

. . . Do not bare it,

. . . Do not share it,

. . . Do not live it.

Learn to unlearn all your struggles.

With a touch,

and the smile.

I am rushed on a temporal quark,

and awoke with a visage of love that stared at me,

lovingly unconditional devoted for me alone.



®artsydhude 07-18