september_dearest - Hello Poetry

I'd like the concept of un-commercialized happiness Not sold on the internet, supermarkets or luxury stores Not branded by the colorful packaging or familiar faces Something I will not get addicted to and want more and more I would like my happiness not sold, rather found unexpectedly Perhaps on the roadside, from a flower or from a stranger Without a need to hold on to the feeling desperately Without a need to save it for later I would like the concept of one time only happiness No recollection of it once completely lived through Without a single picture, word or song, no leftover business No successive advertisements to later prey on you I'd like to be happy and not in the convenient way I would like it happily, lost, having worked all the way to it Knowing there's no point in treasuring a little of the day If tomorrow it may rot into regretful memories

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Oct 27, 2020

Oct 27, 2020 at 2:50 AM UTC

september_dearest

I'll wait. 20190919.

I'd like the concept of un-commercialized happiness Not sold on the internet, supermarkets or luxury stores Not branded by the colorful packaging or familiar faces Something I will not get addicted to and want more and more I would like my happiness not sold, rather found unexpectedly Perhaps on the roadside, from a flower or from a stranger Without a need to hold on to the feeling desperately Without a need to save it for later I would like the concept of one time only happiness No recollection of it once completely lived through Without a single picture, word or song, no leftover business No successive advertisements to later prey on you I'd like to be happy and not in the convenient way I would like it happily, lost, having worked all the way to it Knowing there's no point in treasuring a little of the day If tomorrow it may rot into regretful memories

16

A have a guardian angel of woe Watching over me He collects my due of sorrow Pocketing it in black memory Only when I have been too happy Will then he a little share Out of his enormous collection A carefully measured handful spare So I am never lost to sadness Nor ever in happiness corrupt Living a life in measured scales Between the two, in his trust Devoid of bliss, far from infinite joy Safe from maddening grief and

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Oct 27, 2020

Oct 27, 2020 at 2:36 AM UTC

september_dearest

Without despair. 20181021.

A have a guardian angel of woe Watching over me He collects my due of sorrow Pocketing it in black memory Only when I have been too happy Will then he a little share Out of his enormous collection A carefully measured handful spare So I am never lost to sadness Nor ever in happiness corrupt Living a life in measured scales Between the two, in his trust Devoid of bliss, far from infinite joy Safe from maddening grief and

14

Maybe I've been the happiest I can be Maybe I've lost the one I can love most Maybe this doesn't bother me But isn't all this sad at all? How casually I can keep living How casually I can always hope Look to another day, keep waiting For even better, as though there's more. But maybe there won't be. The greatness found is really lost. Though there may be new adventures I've been to heaven, and was thrown out.

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Jun 2, 2018

Jun 2, 2018 at 4:21 PM UTC

september_dearest

Been there, lost that. 20180531.

Maybe I've been the happiest I can be Maybe I've lost the one I can love most Maybe this doesn't bother me But isn't all this sad at all? How casually I can keep living How casually I can always hope Look to another day, keep waiting For even better, as though there's more. But maybe there won't be. The greatness found is really lost. Though there may be new adventures I've been to heaven, and was thrown out.

12

Maybe we can't forget feelings As they are known to us Like old leaves of the trees, unfading Into the autumn dust And when the new ones sprout With new beauty and season The golden shadow of the old, shrouds New possibilities in false reason. As if the definitions have been With iron set in stone And the new ink keeps disappearing Leaving the old, unfinished and alone. Now when the golden tree stands Alone in the field of snow The blessings of the green that can Save him, it doesn't even know.

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Jun 2, 2018

Jun 2, 2018 at 3:41 AM UTC

september_dearest

Golden and not green. 20171103.

Maybe we can't forget feelings As they are known to us Like old leaves of the trees, unfading Into the autumn dust And when the new ones sprout With new beauty and season The golden shadow of the old, shrouds New possibilities in false reason. As if the definitions have been With iron set in stone And the new ink keeps disappearing Leaving the old, unfinished and alone. Now when the golden tree stands Alone in the field of snow The blessings of the green that can Save him, it doesn't even know.

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