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Let us climb together
Each step representing the difficulties of life
Walking away from the past
And our differences
But as the mountain narrows before us
Creating common ground
Closer to God
Where the air is pure
And the skies are clear
We will share what little we bring
And what we bring is only what we need
Yes
Only our body
And consciousness
Of life
Our life
And we will then come to know the life of each other
For as the mountain narrows before us
We will become human again
And not a race
Or an object
Only spirit
Wisps of humanity
Filling the spaces between words and deeds
Remembering our place
Not of advantage
Or of dependency
But as equals
And yet I hear your cries
Echoing beyond the valley inside our hearts
Where the battle is fought
Some of your friends will not walk with you
It is the same for me
But we will find others taking their place
And we will welcome them
While lamenting those who chose not to join us
But praying for their walk
Hoping that the clouds that pass before us
Are the spirits that have reconsidered their choice
Ready to bond with us
While the morning fog reminds those who remain
There is still time
 Jul 2016 Dalia Dalke
Collins
What was it like to love her?

It was like running in the summer rain.
No matter how hard it poured.
You couldn't help but stop.
And dance.
Let her soak you to the bone.
Leave you cold.

what was it like to leave her?

Like sleep to the freezing.
 Jul 2016 Dalia Dalke
D
-

my favorite poems are the ones I don't want you to read,
about more than blind love, they're about the suffering.
a contradiction, they're the ones I want you to read,
because they're filled with the words
I don't even have the courage to breath.
another thing, I want you to read this one too,
but I know I wont show it for then you'd know the truth.
I guess I'm lucky that you don't have an interest in my poetry.. yeah, so lucky..

Edit: people keep liking this poem and it literally ***** to me lol this is not one of my favorite poems, as the title may suggest.
This is just a bit of humor I found
 Jul 2016 Dalia Dalke
Jeff Stier
We descend gently
into the deep well
of the pianoforte

As the sun streams down
from above
the echoes of love and longing
arise from below

You and I
have not come this way before

So step gently
and have every care
A world where I lose you
cannot exist

In truth
it would be
an outrage against nature

And if
God forbid
such a thing were to happen
I would wrap the sky
in a blanket of grief
a blanket so dense
that the sun would fail
the stars flicker and dim

I would turn off every light
erase every word

There would be no peace
because I would make war
against every continent
my armies would occupy
every city

I would plant a black flag
on the moon
and place a grieving footprint
upon the Sea of Tranquility

And I would cry
that no tranquility
can henceforth exist
in any place

Finally
I would set out
with scant provision
on an odyssey
that would make Ulysses weep

Few would weigh my grief
yet the earth itself
would careen briefly
off the elliptic
as the weight of my heart
altered its comings and goings
causing every creature still breathing
to look up in fear

So stay, friend.
It must be that I go first.
And you remain behind.
Inspired by a piece by Alexander Scriabin.
 Jul 2016 Dalia Dalke
medha
But darling,
hearts that
have been
shattered
will only
go on to
love
stronger.
Fog
I.

No, don't go now. Please
don't go now; the fog is creating ghosts
out of people and we're breathing clouds out of our mouths.
Tell me about that time when you held your breath
under the lake for six years and still survived;
tell me how if I do that, it'll never work.
I'm not a sea God
any more.


II.

My knees tell better stories than my tongue
ever did, please don't; wretched hive harangues
the mind in a plague, can't you see I'm holding you down
and telling you you're all I ever wanted,
you're all I ever wanted; your head is the stuff of dreams
you're all I ever wanted; you can put your arm
right through me and only feel mist;
I am fog. I'm creating ghosts out of you.

III.

Make it up to me in a rainbow of hues of grey;
at the end of it I'm holding my ribs open. I've never
been more colourful and sad at the same time.
You're the mirrors to my house; stay
has always sounded better than don't go

yet neither seems to work anymore.
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