824.
National Hotline System ni Pres. Duterte
May 8 magagandang nagawa
Si Pres. Duterte sa bansa
“National Hotline System” ay isa na rito
Para sa emergency cases sa bansang ito
Nakasaad dito ang mga numero
Ng emergency, reklamo at iba pang serbisyo
Ito ay para sa mas madaling pagproseso
Ng mga pangangailangan sa gobierno.
-03/28/2022
(Dumarao)
*8 Magagandang Nagawa ni Pres. Duterte sa Bansa
(77th Birthday of PDuterte)
823.
National ID System ni Pres. Duterte
May 8 Magagandang nagawa
Si Pres. Duterte sa Bansa
“National ID System” ay isa na rito
Para sa identification purposes sa bansang ito
Nakasaad dito ang mga datos mo
Gaya ng birthday at address mo
Ito ay para sa mas pinadaling pagproseso
Ng mga transaksiyon sa gobierno.
-03/28/2022
(Dumarao)
*8 Magagandang Nagawa ni Pres. Duterte sa Bansa
(77th Birthday of PDuterte)
I travelled far to cast my vote,
carrying the weight of life with me.
By evening, I watched the news
my country had built a mighty weapon.
Missiles, aircraft, fire
I felt proud of our strength.
Then I stepped into my garden.
The leaves still held
the morning's dew.
A flower still carried
the last light of the sun.
I watered the plants.
The sky roared.
Aircraft crossed it like birds,
but instead of flowers,
they dropped death.
My garden turned red.
One white flower remained,
a single drop of blood
resting on its petal.
I looked at the sky.
Who won the war?
Who lost it?
The sky stayed silent.
The earth answered in blood.
I gave my vote for my country,
and felt proud of its strength.
But when will we win
the greatest war of all
the war for a world
where a child's white flower
never carries the stain of blood?
It’s National Hot Dog Day,
Let’s all celebrate!
I’ll have mine with mustard and ketchup,
And maybe relish on my plate.
Piled high with onions,
Chili, or some cheese,
I’ll eat my favorite hot dog—
Can I have a footlong, please?
Wait… what does footlong even mean?
The grass is the same in Buenos Aires and London
Argentina presses as Messi runs
National feelings, reduced to action
millions of fans with opposite reactions
England breathless as Kane goes to score
Argentina or England? Who will win one more?
One team will lose, and the other reach for glory
We're nearing the end of the World Cup story
.
Tomorrow 07/15/2026 3PM US, 9pm Paris
.
.
A song for this:
We Are the Champions (Live Aid) by Queen
On Youtube: youtu.be/FP808MiJUcM
There once was a squirrel named Tippy
who loved ice cream that was chocolate chippy.
He’d wiggle and grin
as he dipped right in
that tiny-paw thief was so lippy.
It doesn’t depend on a choice but rather
You have it innately, or not
Though it can’t be derived from mother or father
Inevitably, with a lot
Of all other merits and habits they can
Subliminally pass to you
Either you belong, or you’re not one of them
Who live as if splat in two
The national mammals like to care about
The superior meanings of their tribe
But what goes around swiftly comes around
In reverse, from another side
When it comes to a whirlwind of echoes
The nationals can’t discern
Their own voice, and from what of ghettos
A heavier smoke returns.
We are to remind you of your
Singleness.
It is full advisory or just to let you
Know you are single.
The chocaletes nice!
That damn duck was the best!
The sides were fabulous!
Two servings of dessert!
Wine is fine, and almost Devine!
But if you think this changes
Our status, then you crazy!
You are still single with me
Looking to another!
Finger snap to mean conclusion.
Tell your friends, some of them
Want some of this too!
We can still be friends, I like
The romantic stuff, but you are
SINGLE. I was gonna wait til you
Founded someone, and egg ya'll
On to marriage, yeah the gifts is
Mine, talk that stuff if you wanna
But more would and will keep these'uh
Hips ah grinding!
Why y'all wanna have ah goodtime
when all I gotta do is say no and spoil
It for ya! No class scumbottom guys
Buy the best gifts!
And the only reason I said anything is
Cause you told me not to eat my chicken
with a fork. I slurped the soup too!
"A true writer must write. Ink is in their veins." By Poet
Writers love their many letters to choose from,
letters turning into words then into sentences.
Poems come from the love of writing,
writing about the past or maybe about the present.
Poems can be true or false,
some will make you cry and others will make you laugh.
The writer and reader are both in love,
in love with letters, words, sentences and reading.
Bridging the port
Calming wakes, defined as sport
Not needing any legal court
Only a scoreboard
Pointing which door
An Indianapolis checkered flag
Or hiking Arizona’s crags
Going in zags
Seeing single stags
Boys Fightin Illini windy gusts
Wanting a middle city bust
Girls giving USC, a nice tri
Enjoying a Final Four high
Reaching dunking heights
Friday night
Huskies have in sight
Next day another round
For the Nutmeg town
After dinner
There will be a winner
Due to an early evening rise
From southern gamecock cries
Serving gourmet steaks accompanied with eggs
Worth the beg
Two or three
Spectacle we believe
Are the attempts
Message sent
On the hardwood
By those who are good
Getting two points
Across the arena joint
But do not despair
What is fair
If your academic grades are not there
Since Huskie national championship hopes, are on the air
They said he was finished, his moment long gone,
Buried by headlines from dusk until dawn;
Yet voices of millions rang clear and concise —
A nation stood up for its freedom and rights.
From truck stops and town halls to docks in the rain,
Came Americans done with endless disdain;
They chose not the noise of the ruling class curse,
But a banner that reads: AMERICA FIRST.
Drill bits were turning, pipelines ran fast,
Energy freedom reclaimed at last;
Supply chains anchored in red, white, and blue,
Building again what Americans do.
No longer apologies spoken abroad,
But strength without bluster and peace built on God;
NATO found clarity, rivals took heed —
Firm hands & clear purpose, virtues we need.
Two hundred fifty years carved into stone,
From muskets at dawn to a nation full-grown;
The same rebel spirit still runs in our veins —
Self-rule, strong borders, and freedom sustained.
So mark this return not of man, but of sense:
Of duty and limits, of prudent defense;
Love him or not, one truth now rings clear —
America First is why hope reappeared.
Loved by the many within their own state,
Loathed by the few who agitate from the gate.
A pattern repeated, a tale overplayed,
A judgement delivered before facts are weighed.
To the in-state, a father – steadfast and wise,
To the out-state, a tyrant in disguise.
A chronic affliction the Middle East knows,
A fever that silently festers and grows,
A contagion now Africa silently grows.
From Iran to Yemen, where old embers flame,
Through Libya to Uganda – the script stays the same.
From Burkina Faso and others whose names fill the scroll,
Branded rebellious by powers that patrol.
To more nations yet named in the fray,
Rebellious, dangerous – so headlines will say.
Declared by the US with sanctioning tone,
Echoed by the UN from its towering throne.
And others who gather where verdicts are spun,
Crowning a villain when politics is done.
Condemned in chambers where distant flags fly,
While praised at home beneath their own sky.
Rest in Peace: Ali Khamenei, Muammar Gaddafi and many others.
The final resting place arrests the soul that's stirred to ponder
Unlikely calm, untimely psalm shall with these spirits wander
Now your tomb no more the gloom of morrow's peril pending
The will you brought, the peace you sought herein has found it's ending
I cannot summon up the scale, the cry, the wail, of this sad tale
Where you in desperation drew that final fatal vision
Sunshine graces all that my eye falls on in this vale
I search for hope that we won't follow on the sad division
That led us to the precipice where looking down on others
Would lead us to the place where we would choose to fight our brothers
Hope has many colors, complications, aspirations, and rebirth
But let us hope... lest it should die... along with our self-worth
As some Indians
(dot, not feather)
go to great lengths
to ingratiate themselves
by obsequious behaviour
(bob your head if you agree with me)
could it be the origin
of the expression,
'To curry favour'?
Tho' hunger knows no bounds
forget the fatted calf
despite the nation suffering
from starvation by more than half
they'll curry a horse
but not a cow
those bovine ungulates
are holier than thou
Today she was born
not just a normal baby
but a giant
A giant that produces;
It produces thirty-six children
It produces great minerals
to nourish her nation
produces sportsmen and women
It produces great ones
known for breaking record
All around
her favourite colour
green and white
which is her symbol
despite her up’s and down
She is still strong
With many generations
representing her
She is still unique
Nigeria at 65
I love my country
Happy Independence Day
Sub Categories
Looking for the formal definition, structure, and history of this poetry form? Visit the Poetry Dictionary entry below. Then return to explore how PoetrySoup members bring the form to life through their own poems.