jaybs-ragudo - Hello Poetry

The night beat down my chest. Your taste lingered on my lips Each breathe lined up with every pump of blood. Not a cloud was to be seen. It still rained. Your eyes were like the blue of the sky, but I saw the clouds begin to form. Two drops fell before I saw the storm inside. Two drops I counted. The thunder broke. Literature was our language. We wrote in words. Words were traded in tongue. I wanted you to speak more to me more. Speak till my language felt numb. My lips on yours I wanted more. My arms wrapped around you. I wanted more. Thunder crashed. Still not a cloud in the sky. I wanted to take it from you. I wanted more. The night beat down my chest. Your taste lingered on my lips. Each breathe lined up with every pump of blood. Never have I seen, A blue skied storm.

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Feb 23, 2015

Feb 23, 2015 at 11:03 PM UTC

jaybs-ragudo

Mono no aware

The night beat down my chest. Your taste lingered on my lips Each breathe lined up with every pump of blood. Not a cloud was to be seen. It still rained. Your eyes were like the blue of the sky, but I saw the clouds begin to form. Two drops fell before I saw the storm inside. Two drops I counted. The thunder broke. Literature was our language. We wrote in words. Words were traded in tongue. I wanted you to speak more to me more. Speak till my language felt numb. My lips on yours I wanted more. My arms wrapped around you. I wanted more. Thunder crashed. Still not a cloud in the sky. I wanted to take it from you. I wanted more. The night beat down my chest. Your taste lingered on my lips. Each breathe lined up with every pump of blood. Never have I seen, A blue skied storm.

28

Look at me like the way your eyes fixate on that paper. Hold me like the way you run your fingers up the spine of a book. Dig into me like the way your pen carves the surface of the page. Etch yourself into me like a story does into a soul. And I will do the same. I just fear, that one day, I will be nothing more, than just another book, on your shelf, collecting dust, as its companion.

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Dec 17, 2014

Dec 17, 2014 at 4:12 AM UTC

jaybs-ragudo

A story never told.

Look at me like the way your eyes fixate on that paper. Hold me like the way you run your fingers up the spine of a book. Dig into me like the way your pen carves the surface of the page. Etch yourself into me like a story does into a soul. And I will do the same. I just fear, that one day, I will be nothing more, than just another book, on your shelf, collecting dust, as its companion.

19

The breathe in my pen grew shallow. Each scribble whittled me down. Before I knew it, the pen that I wrote with ran out of ink Just before my heart ran out out of beats This was a story not to be finished But the ink stains on my hands Were like the scars of my past. A constant reminder.

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Dec 5, 2014

Dec 5, 2014 at 2:33 AM UTC

jaybs-ragudo

Ink Stains

The breathe in my pen grew shallow. Each scribble whittled me down. Before I knew it, the pen that I wrote with ran out of ink Just before my heart ran out out of beats This was a story not to be finished But the ink stains on my hands Were like the scars of my past. A constant reminder.

9

He threw caution into his red cup. He named his drink the forget-me-not. This would be the night of remembrance. One-fourth Sprite and three-fourths ***** The crisp wind greeted him as he stepped outside. He charged into the night. Forget-me-not. He babbled with his friends. Forgt-me-not. He took another sip. Forgt-me-nit. He danced with a girl. Firgtn-e-nit. He drank every drop of his forget-me-not. fIrgtne-nit He went till the break of dawn only to be swept up by the wind. The next day he woke up with saliva crust down the side of his mouth. He had forgotten. The night forgot him.

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Aug 28, 2014

Aug 28, 2014 at 12:16 AM UTC

jaybs-ragudo

fIrgtne-nit

He threw caution into his red cup. He named his drink the forget-me-not. This would be the night of remembrance. One-fourth Sprite and three-fourths ***** The crisp wind greeted him as he stepped outside. He charged into the night. Forget-me-not. He babbled with his friends. Forgt-me-not. He took another sip. Forgt-me-nit. He danced with a girl. Firgtn-e-nit. He drank every drop of his forget-me-not. fIrgtne-nit He went till the break of dawn only to be swept up by the wind. The next day he woke up with saliva crust down the side of his mouth. He had forgotten. The night forgot him.

19

Caught in a Tornado, I tried to reach the eye. To my dismay, I found nothing on my arrival. So once again I threw myself into nature's breathe, only to be greeted by a zephyr.

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Aug 27, 2014

Aug 27, 2014 at 11:13 PM UTC

jaybs-ragudo

Zephyr

Caught in a Tornado, I tried to reach the eye. To my dismay, I found nothing on my arrival. So once again I threw myself into nature's breathe, only to be greeted by a zephyr.

5