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    12:01-Random Poems and Literaries Written in Slumber
    12:01-Random Poems and Literaries Written in Slumber
    12:01-Random Poems and Literaries Written in Slumber
    Ebook50 pages37 minutes

    12:01-Random Poems and Literaries Written in Slumber

    By Teddy Cambosa

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    About this ebook

    In the middle of the night, where the starry sky try in vain to illuminate the pitch dark streets, somehow a lonely soul speaks and screams silently through pen and paper all of his most random thoughts in a day through poetry.

    12:01--as the time suggests--is the common time the author faces the glowing screen of his phone to type all of his woes and aspirations in a free verse poetry form. 12:01-Random Poems & Literaries Written in Slumber is a collection of poems of anything the author in his mind. Whether a visual of a classical poem or plain narration in poetry form, the author aims to bring out the best out of mundane things, and somehow get an impact from other people. Also included in the book are excerpts from my old literary pieces.

    It might plain simplicity, but it's all about the unwavering fact that emotions prevail every one of us.

    LanguageEnglish
    PublisherTeddy Cambosa
    Release dateApr 19, 2018
    ISBN9781370731220
    12:01-Random Poems and Literaries Written in Slumber

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    • 5/5
      A gripping poetry book in hardships, anxiety and negativity of life.

    Book preview

    12:01-Random Poems and Literaries Written in Slumber - Teddy Cambosa

    12:01

    Random Poems & Literaries

    Made In Slumber

    Teddy Cambosa

    Copyright © 2018 by Teddy Cambosa

    All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, including photocopying, recording, or other electronic or mechanical methods, without the prior written permission of the publisher, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical reviews and certain other noncommercial uses permitted by copyright law. For permission requests, write to the publisher, addressed Attention: Permissions Coordinator, at the address below.

    Teddy M. Cambosa

    J. Tagle St., Brgy. Cuta Looban

    Batangas City, Batangas, Philippines (4200)

    teddy.cambosa0810@gmail.com

    Prologue

    So you came here after all, somehow trudging a road I assumed I was the only one walking through.

    For years, I embraced the darkness of the night. A night where the lights on the lamp posts are the only guides on the solitude road ahead, where stars are reminiscent of a great beyond yet far away from our reach, where every time the clock strucks in each one’s slumber, a lone soul silently screams his own emotions.

    I appear to be shorter at most times. I lower my head, I droop my eyes and as if I wanted to cry, I wanted to hold my tears to tell everyone I am strong enough. Yet this weak side of me always overpower me, and sooner or later, I’ll feed myself with bowls of rejections, backstabs and everything about the grey matter of negativities.

    And in the middle of those nights, the most random poems are like little scraps of paper, waiting to be pieced together in a much random form of book. Poems are really not focused on one theme. To be honest, they are a mix of my random thought on the night scenery or probably a meditation after I call it a day.

    So come with me. Accompany me in this dark phase. Choose whether you want to weep or laugh with me. After all, you’ll get bored in the latter part and I shall continue my travel to Solitude Avenue.

    In the name of randomness each night,

    T.M.C.

    Dedication

    For every lonely soul

    Whispering their own despairs at the cold night

    For the man whose heart

    Is teeming with all of his hidden weakness

    For every nocturnal souls

    Whose dreams are more heavy than sleep

    And for the lone traveller

    Wishing that the luminous stars ahead

    Are the ones who might twitch a smile back to him

    The Random Selenophile

    In this monotonous January evening

    As I lazily stared at this glowing monitor

    Not fearing for my eye condition

    I came across to a lady

    Who loves the moon and the night skies

    My eleven-year-old self-screams

    Who, at that time spends

    Most of the night time

    Lying at the soft grass, gazing at the

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