890.
10 Meron si Jose Radin 10:
Edge Over the Others
Si Jose Radin ay may "Edge Over the Others"
Merong Quality that Matters
Isang dekalidad na Graduate ng UP
Hindi basta-basta, indi maasi-asi
Isang dekalidad na Empleyado
Kahit maliit ang sweldo
Siya ay maaasahan
Nariyan kapag kinakailangan
Sa mga trabaho may ambag na malaki
Salamat sa Dios na Almighty.
-10/10/2025
(Dumarao)
*10 Meron si Jose Radin
Neither a patriot nor a cosmopolitan
I’m walking no party line, carrying no cross
Sorry for this, but I’m just metropolitan
Making the ends meet, giving no toss
About others, and they feel the same
About me, so we’re on equal footing
Have a nice day is the one thing we say
Whoever we meet, doesn't mean rooting, tooting
Once I had a dream to live by the sea
Then in the garden I wanted to spend
The rest of my days, but it wasn’t to be
So I waved goodbye to both dreams that I had
That’s how I see it, patriots and cosmopolitans
Immigrants, refugees, seekers of home
Set your sails straight away to the dearest ones
Otherwise, you are bound to make it alone.
Tears roll down
Sorry, sad soul
Tracksuit's wet
A dress will do
The style's good
Others will adjust
There is no pen without the ink.
The ink can't flow without the pen.
The hand can't write without the thoughts
Which remain unwritten without the hand.
The author needs imagination
Which can't be expressed without the author.
One cannot succeed without the other
Each has its own importance...
The principle to take away
Is that everyone matters.
Everyone needs the beauty
Of harmony and encouragement.
Sometimes we lead, sometimes we follow
But we are all unique.
We all bring something important
We all inspire, even without knowing.
So dear friends, keep your inks flowing...
There is no pen without the ink
No literature without the writer.
Who is it that takes the lead?
No one. It's a shared community.
We admire, we inspire in balance.
Each one is as important as the others.
surrenderer ungrudgingly humbling she reposition actualization again as her gramps essentially irresponsibly whacker of sail deciding my normandy
(Weekly Magnetic Poetry Challenge • July 20–26, 2026)
I know it’s a shame but isn’t it clear
That I have no possibility
To change a thing in what’s going on here
Maybe others have that ability
So either they work it out fine
Or they’ve just given it up
Whatever happens I keep my line
Preferring to drink from my cup
The private life is by far the best
Invention of the Englishman
Stuck to your own, leave all the rest
To choose what is chosen for them
To hell with that new and old rubbish
My privacy sends me stuff
That I dare sometimes to publish
You’re entitled to cry or laugh..
I walk among a ground where life is a trend.
Yet we don’t understand where’s our beginning and our end.
The burden to be like the rest.
We all stand shoulder to shoulder duplicate.
Not proving we are all imperfect.
The pressure to keep up.
But the feeling to be distinct.
I say to myself
“Am I really who I want to be”
“Or am I a carbon copy of other souls”
These patterns are confined in a box.
But do I have a key to unlock?
Proving ourselves to be different.
Is this really the craze we mimic?
Or is it an illusion we may just dismiss?
Time will tell it all.
But for now we just follow the ball.
Disappointment Is So Hard
To Throw Away...
Like A Parasite, You Just
Can't Shake It Off.
It Seems It Would
Be Easy To Throw
Out The Trash...
But Like A Tattoo...
Go Away!
Out Damn Spot!
Like A Life Sadly
Lost, Expended.
"Expired."
-Gray Squirrel
03-29-2026
Today I’m grateful for understanding how helping others
when they’re feeling hungry or sad or blue…
has this wonderful reciprocal effect…
of helping me feel better too.
jealousy and pettiness
gossiping and blaming
incohesive with a satisfied life
shallowness, sneakiness and lying
anger and meanness
square corners that do not fit into a world of joy
live your truths
honor your dreams
be your best self
let God take care of the others
You see my forgiveness is for,
others to be given.
Then I will receive much much more,
God will never give in.
I will forgive - I do,
praying in the old pew.
My love from me to you.
little ghost moved to a cozy shed in Ireland one fine October day
He was tired of being bullied and teased, to him this was not play
why do others pick on me? He asked his jack-o-lanterns with a stare.
But they did not and could not reply, for their voices were not there.
To run, to leap, when others
Once dropped, catching breath
Drag them, chased by Death.
Among the many privileges
Granted whom anew
Grateful their lives view.
When your lies tell me one story
But my eyes tell me another
About the murder of Renee, my sister
And the execution of Alex, my brother
You raise me up to my feet
You end my silent protest
You cause my shouts to repeat
“With others, I will resist”.
When you threaten countries, we call Allies
Kidnap leaders to gain their riches
End regulations meant to protect us
Call female journalists, “mean b!tches”
You deserve not an ounce of respect
No matter how much you whine and insist
Every action you perform is suspect,
With others, I will resist.
Many started when you mocked the handicap
Others joined when you bragged about what you grab
There already was a long list of lawsuits
From those who you refused to pay your tab
I knew you were a con man from the start
But was sure the votes would end your quest
To be wrong absolutely broke my heart,
Now, with others, I will resist.
I lift a glass once meant to toast us,
brimming with all our future lost
for others to keep and cheer.
It tastes bitter and sour
when left unfinished,
its aftertaste
lingers on
tainted
spent
rent
dry
with unshed tears
dripping with resounding cheers
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