Death comes for a poet
With a plume of smoke rising
From a quill, pen, computer key.
When we write in love or hate
We have no choice in the path we follow
For all roads lead to home.
Whether you leave this plane
With the wealth of a nation
Or in poverty
In fame or deep obscurity,
The real tragedy
Is that no-one gets to enjoy immortality.
Our saving grace is that we are the few
Who truly get to write
Our own elegy.
We are the few capable
Of surviving death and time.
Alas we may never see
Our elegy bloom,
Rise to become our eulogy.
i've been nauseous every day this week
because i've been staying up until
the sun rises trying to remember
the way your eyes look
when you're in love
and i know
the universe is huge,
i'm always moving from place to place
but of everywhere i've ever been
the only place i ever crave
is your creeky back porch,
with the chipped green paint,
that i'd always peel back
when we were fighting
and i was anxious
still when my heart drops
and my hands shake
i wanna peel back
that chipped green paint
the night before you
slammed my front door
for the last time,
you were curled up in a ball
on the opposite side of the mattress,
and i was wishing you'd hold me
but i kind of knew you never would again
"i know nothing lasts forever
but i thought we were worth a miracle"
and you said,
"my apathy just got the best of me,
i don't feel you in my fingertips,
you don't send shivers
down my spine,
& i just don't miss
you when you leave,
your kisses never stick,
today i woke up
feeling like i never slept
and yesterday i went to bed
feeling like i was never even awake
venus keeps cartwheeling
backwards and no one knows why;
stars keep falling right out of the sky
and you're the only thing
that's been on my mind
And I spent
Collecting the shards
Of your shattered soul
From the impact
Of a death.
In a heap of
And I was there silently
Destroying evidence of
Induced self hate
As I held you closely.
Were a gnarled
Garden of lost
Beauty and I
Was there to rid you
Of the invasive weeds
The life in your veins
Leaving you to die.
I was left with
Bleeding hands from
The shards of you soul
Razors sinking in my skin
From your example of
The weeds of depression
Strangling me and all I needed was
But you never came.
Find. Find the nearest ledge you say
Step. Step up to the plate you say
Suspend. Suspend you say
Hang again lonely you say
Again you say
End. End it all you say to ME
I plead for escape please save me
No one will love me you say. No one.
I want nothing more than to feel free
Sweet crying sky I want to survive...
Try you say. Try to stay
My headaches to medicate it, but until
I'm ready to tread this road safely then
Call me crazy. Crazy you say. Crazy.
Insane you say. Insane.
Weak and worthless you say.
You say- No! Go away I SAY.
I am... I... I am worthy of living, loving and I am not going to give up. I am not. I say.
We used to celebrate the fifteenth of May
as the day we first started dating. Though
you thought the fifteenth was the correct date,
we did not start our relationship in May.
We started in June, a few weeks
after my graduation. The fifteenth
of May was the day we first started dating,
but we only dated for a week, and then
you dropped the let’s stay friends bit.
A month later, we tried again,
and that try lasted for two years.
Perhaps the superstition of our first fifteenth
brought us to where we are, perhaps not.
But the fifteenth of May is in a few weeks,
so where are you, my friend?
© Matthew Harlovic
Log har mor pe ruk ruk ke sambhalate kyon hain
Itana darate hain to phir ghar se nikalate koun hain
Main na juganu hun diya hun na koi tara hun
Raushani wale mere nam se jalate kyon hain
Nind se mera taalluq hi nahi barason se
Khwab a a ke meri chat pe tahalate kyon hain
Mor hota hai jawani ka sambhalane ke liye
Aur sab log yahin ake phisalate kyon hai
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The shy stallion crept up,
I never saw him coming.
He came from beyond the meadows
and into the beautiful hill
where the grass grew tall
and the flowers bloomed
all day long.
the sky went from gray to blue.
His hair was a pure white,
and his eyes were crystallized,
filled with delight.
He never had a friend before,
and neither had I.
But we grew to know each other well
before the passing bell.
We were an unlikely pair,
and perhaps it wasn't sensible,
but with that stallion I share
all my heart.
He showed me the beauty of the hill,
showed me the wonders of the world.
And so without delay,
I made it my home.
Together, that shy stallion and I.
He neighed and tossed his mane,
but I still didn't know him name.
I called him, "Almanzo"
and beside my side he stayed
until my last day,
when dawn finally turned to dusk,
and my body turned to rust.