Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
 
~
I was secretly admiring what seemed unattainable...
For my surprise, your loving stare kissed my thoughts...
Even knowing that we have run over our story...
Since you are too busy or afraid to tame pristine flaws...
To the most exquisite Moonlight I make my wish...
So at least, I could see your smile once more...
~
© Christina Philipe

how is it possible to close my eyes
when all that is is just passin' by
how on earth should i cover up my ears
when there is nothin' much nor else to hear

i say we truly forgot how to feel
we continue to deny to be real
'n' within those **** lies we be livin'
them unhidden plays 'n' acts we're givin'

ye'd say: 'i do feel 'n' know it all'
by thy many a 'truth' still standin' tall
now would it be no understandin' shall
'n' shall never be when we make it fall

for when we stop our minds elevatin'
then be which story we'd be creatin'


*

..love always...



عرفان بن يوسف © AH 17/10/1437


'a (pentameter / freestyle rhymescheme) Sonnet'
When we were eighteen
sang the three women in chorus
and the bus burst into Spring.

When we were eighteen
they giggled and sang

the bus was a garden
the seats swings in the wind
the passengers angels and fairies

When we were eighteen
sang the three women
men beamed and the women blushed
as they broke into chorus
when we were eighteen

the ride was free
and they all stood up
their bones bellowing the chorus
their skin shining in the Spring

the child grew into eighteen
the old descended into that golden year
never knowing when their stoppage came
when one after the other they got down
and again it was a bus on the road
but with the whiff of Spring
eternal in the crimson blush
of the sun setting and rising
its engine and axle and tyres whirring in chorus
when we were eighteen
~
I hate being no longer the owner of my own world...

It hurts that I had woken up for a colourless firework...

I hate having my heart aching for an empty half...

It hurts not to be able to see you, Northern Light...
~
© Christina Philipe
~
A chess game and a slamming door?!

Really??

Such a heartless way to thrill!

Somehow

The world keeps spinning
~

© Christina Philipe
Next page