brianong122 - Hello Poetry

a moment from the past enshrined in the present; an ode to the future. a pose, as if a still photograph that ignites… and emerges as a light in my heart. Her, with a smile— a look that stays etched, enshrined perhaps within me. captured by a glance. elusive, etched, enshrined, left permanent by happenstance. stay, this moment of mine. remain a postcard on a wall to be stared upon when life takes the longer road or diverts or drifts away from comfort… and suddenly i’m reminded that all is well, and all will remain well.

0

Jan 31, 2023

Jan 31, 2023 at 8:07 AM UTC

Her

a moment from the past enshrined in the present; an ode to the future. a pose, as if a still photograph that ignites… and emerges as a light in my heart. Her, with a smile— a look that stays etched, enshrined perhaps within me. captured by a glance. elusive, etched, enshrined, left permanent by happenstance. stay, this moment of mine. remain a postcard on a wall to be stared upon when life takes the longer road or diverts or drifts away from comfort… and suddenly i’m reminded that all is well, and all will remain well.

22

Stretching an arm to his bedside table, he clasps an object with his hand. He raises it up, and with a click of a button a source of light forces his pupils to constrict. The light in the form of his cellphone screen read: 4:17 A.M. Friday, May 13 On the bottom half of the screen was nothing (0 new text messages) but a picture of three smiling figures in a foreign land. And in one swift motion he flicks his wrist— the phone makes a thud, ten feet away. There was no use for it when hundreds of his texts and calls were answered by the wind. It may or may not have been four days since the incident that caused water from a faucet to seep through his eyes. His face now pressed against a blanket, a scream pierces through the four corners of the bedroom. The faucet water now found its way to his lungs as he huffed and puffed. And huffed. And puffed. As to what happened to his parents, he neither knew nor hoped to know. 4:19 A.M. It’s once again time to try counting sheep.

0

Aug 24, 2020

Aug 24, 2020 at 2:00 AM UTC

2 Minutes

Stretching an arm to his bedside table, he clasps an object with his hand. He raises it up, and with a click of a button a source of light forces his pupils to constrict. The light in the form of his cellphone screen read: 4:17 A.M. Friday, May 13 On the bottom half of the screen was nothing (0 new text messages) but a picture of three smiling figures in a foreign land. And in one swift motion he flicks his wrist— the phone makes a thud, ten feet away. There was no use for it when hundreds of his texts and calls were answered by the wind. It may or may not have been four days since the incident that caused water from a faucet to seep through his eyes. His face now pressed against a blanket, a scream pierces through the four corners of the bedroom. The faucet water now found its way to his lungs as he huffed and puffed. And huffed. And puffed. As to what happened to his parents, he neither knew nor hoped to know. 4:19 A.M. It’s once again time to try counting sheep.

18

Ding! . . . Ding! . . . A man locks eyes with an artificial light that shows a world clouded in darkness. Gleaming with empty words and false promises, the light is shut. “Not now,” he says, as he drifts of into the night. Ding! . . . Ding! . . . The man springs from his bed, chasing the light. Yet his calloused hands go stiff— he backs away with a shake of the head. “I’m not ready,” he says, as he eyeballs a dusky mirror reflecting on days that have long gone. Ding! . . . Ding! . . . This time, he merely acknowledged the light— the light that enamored him once, maybe twice. Yet this time, he simply glanced as it died in the twilight. “Why bother?” he says, as he dreams of days that once were.

0

Aug 12, 2020

Aug 12, 2020 at 8:50 AM UTC

Blissful Ignorance

Ding! . . . Ding! . . . A man locks eyes with an artificial light that shows a world clouded in darkness. Gleaming with empty words and false promises, the light is shut. “Not now,” he says, as he drifts of into the night. Ding! . . . Ding! . . . The man springs from his bed, chasing the light. Yet his calloused hands go stiff— he backs away with a shake of the head. “I’m not ready,” he says, as he eyeballs a dusky mirror reflecting on days that have long gone. Ding! . . . Ding! . . . This time, he merely acknowledged the light— the light that enamored him once, maybe twice. Yet this time, he simply glanced as it died in the twilight. “Why bother?” he says, as he dreams of days that once were.

15

A pair, north and south Whose love cancels each one’s doubts Find their way, always

0

Jun 9, 2019

Jun 9, 2019 at 11:28 AM UTC

Compass

A pair, north and south Whose love cancels each one’s doubts Find their way, always

3

An abundance of people. And yet I found you. A laugh so free and sincere. A smile that lights up my world. Life with you has been filled with joy. Problems and stress disappear when I am with you. Oh, how the world would have been so so different. Without you in it, my life would surely be worse off. Because you, you make the world glow with your light. You radiate an energy that always seems to ignite. You brighten up my day, every day, love. Thank you, for always being with me. For making the bad days better. For being who you are. For everything, thank you.

0

Feb 12, 2019

Feb 12, 2019 at 9:02 AM UTC

You.

An abundance of people. And yet I found you. A laugh so free and sincere. A smile that lights up my world. Life with you has been filled with joy. Problems and stress disappear when I am with you. Oh, how the world would have been so so different. Without you in it, my life would surely be worse off. Because you, you make the world glow with your light. You radiate an energy that always seems to ignite. You brighten up my day, every day, love. Thank you, for always being with me. For making the bad days better. For being who you are. For everything, thank you.

16

Hi. Do you care enough to hear me whine? I fear that you don’t see me collecting dust in the dim corner of your room. And while you stand and stare, completely absorbed by your own despair, I remain ready to serve you and your meaningless life. I can clean your room, yet I can’t clean your mind of the false reality exemplified by your kind. We are similar though, you and I. Wasting our time amassing, acquiring, accumulating. Honestly, we’re mere specks of life, surrendering to realities constructed by our minds. Don’t you know that your beloved earthly pleasures are one and the same as the ******* that I collect? Hard-earned, elusive, temporal, disposable. Its laughable how ignorant you are; consumed by your own subliminal thoughts, leaving you searching for the remnants of what is and what is not. Can’t you see the fallacies present in your head? Gleaming yet blinding, salient yet obscure. Armed with benevolent promises that ultimately leave you for dead. Can’t you see that what you crave will inevitably **** you down to your grave? Incessantly coated with wondrous, tempting illusions that disguise its true nature--garbage. Garbage. Connect the dots, you fool. Can’t you see that you and I are one and the same?

0

Aug 3, 2018

Aug 3, 2018 at 8:44 PM UTC

The Cleaner

Hi. Do you care enough to hear me whine? I fear that you don’t see me collecting dust in the dim corner of your room. And while you stand and stare, completely absorbed by your own despair, I remain ready to serve you and your meaningless life. I can clean your room, yet I can’t clean your mind of the false reality exemplified by your kind. We are similar though, you and I. Wasting our time amassing, acquiring, accumulating. Honestly, we’re mere specks of life, surrendering to realities constructed by our minds. Don’t you know that your beloved earthly pleasures are one and the same as the ******* that I collect? Hard-earned, elusive, temporal, disposable. Its laughable how ignorant you are; consumed by your own subliminal thoughts, leaving you searching for the remnants of what is and what is not. Can’t you see the fallacies present in your head? Gleaming yet blinding, salient yet obscure. Armed with benevolent promises that ultimately leave you for dead. Can’t you see that what you crave will inevitably **** you down to your grave? Incessantly coated with wondrous, tempting illusions that disguise its true nature--garbage. Garbage. Connect the dots, you fool. Can’t you see that you and I are one and the same?

30