Biography of Liyo Denorte
from Cebu who's into performance and visual art. he is still in deep hiatus though. some things that tide him by are teaching in Bright Academy and taking laps in an olympic size swimming pool inside abellana sports complex. it so happen that he's also a choreographer, a designer, a cook (mediocre) and into literary. all works published here and in his blogspot are original. kindly ask permission if you would like to use some of his works. He would be more than eager to have it published just make sure to put proper credits on it. you can contact LIYO DENORTE through:
author's note to other members
to whom it may concern:
i don't like poemhunter members
who solicit for comments.
i think its very narcissistic and annoying
to use ART for self promotional motive.
no offence meant to anyone but it's quite annoying, it's really up to a person to say about something without him forcing to do it.
Liyo Denorte's Works:
will print one for the heck of it. =)) nah, maybe soon. who knows?
i rather have simple candle lighted poetry reading and some drinks with friends.
let's get drowned with words.
Liyo Denorte Poems
yawning on a Monday. blue sighing, in a whizzing flu
Tell Me, Please
to tell you honestly, I’m tired of waiting waiting for you to say your name to tell me how was your day
I Miss You, Damn You.
defined. constant variable.
Sitting Here In Silence
bored monkeys parroting myna neurotic fish with her imaginary twin visiting a zoo?
piece by piece we suit each other piece by piece we form each other
A Black Heart
'muddied' i must've thought. dirty, dirty with filth! it might be the sand, puked by the dead river dead leaves, cracked bones, layers and layers of bygone dusts
I Am A Sailor
of your marvelous mess sailing through your blanket of fears blanket of curves
i've been standing still across ur window standing still amongst empty tables
The Stranger Series
Tuesday, January 27,2009 stranger #008 is that his hair?
How Do You Find Her Voice?
tori amos sounds like a girl trapped in a well one monday morning paper cup shaped well
very still still
purple haze of a sighing breeze how could i forget those clinging memories
Lay Still And Hush
you lavish your hand nails with lacquer it might be yellow, red or orchid black supple your skin with mist flaunt it, bare it.