Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
 
 Dec 2014 diana m
Jennifer
Amor Fati
 Dec 2014 diana m
Jennifer
This was a rendezvous that was forbidden by the Heavens, Earth and Hell.
There was never any sign of anyone approving it, not even my doubtful but hurtful heart.
It was too late; the feelings are bind to the spell that has been going out for years.
The remedy, the spell to break it, was gone buried deep within the unknown void space we call the Universe.
Only hold on to the present, forget the past,
These words echoing in my head like a loudspeaker, but herald no effect on my addiction,
*****, unpolished, impure, I am a jewel that sits undiscovered in the dark.
Waiting the opportunities that prevail but seem too far away,
And grasping to one thing they call Destiny.
Bad, bad, bad; but we think we are good
But aren’t we repeating the same mistakes we did?
Can’t we just accept our fate as star-crossed lovers?
That lays not a finger on each other, but desires that single touch and kiss.
Warmth it boils inside us, but cold we give off each other,
Do we prefer to implode than explode?
Never mind, the pain that accumulates,
This is an intoxicating game,
That witnesses both our attitude in playing it.
Until you die,
Do not exit the game yet.
Because I want us to work together,
To ****** this enchanted curse.
A poem that elucidates the heart that is unable to achieve what it yearns for
 Dec 2014 diana m
messy marinara
Is your mind's Identity, a compilation of events that you have witnessed, through your senses, thoughts actions, and uttered sentences have set themselves on a set of shelves in your mental book case. But so many names to face there's not enough space to keep it all straight, so it escapes. My past it fades and gaps make way to take its place, and now my story looses some glory. Things I have done, lessons learned from someone will help me none if I can remember them poorly. I am hardly an entity with any identity if my foundation of memories decays from under me exponentially.

So see me again, some other time when I'm on your mind, and you ought to find then that I'm a new man with new opinions. So then you'll bend, changing the image of me in your head. It's good to see you again Old Friend. You say and exchange the same handshake as when we were both young sit back and pretend, reminisce about days together we'd spend. You've still got some vivid depictions to lend to this old man who's past escapes him.

And that's why brother its good to have each other, a constant in my life, a bond easily recovered. And that's why this better last forever. No matter how we drift, spirits stay tethered together. Cause at the end of one's life we've got two things left. Our memories, and our old friends to share them with.
 Dec 2014 diana m
Antony Glaser
Maybe another story  can furnish the mood
let fate wave a sensation
the passage between you and I,
its tantamount  to a  binding ;
fortuitously a  lit spark
will shorn your  withholding  the truth,
a silent  yearning reached,
long set as a promise.
 Dec 2014 diana m
Antony Glaser
If  the words  came out right
would  you  stumble  on glass shores
promising  never  to return as an empty shell
becoming  in turn better than you were
by captivating the glint of  fascination
 Dec 2014 diana m
Antony Glaser
She needs lip balm
to soften her chapped lips,
perhaps  she's spoken out of turn too often.
pity that she should think life goes in circles.
I assure her there's  no  Karma
just the softly softly of window gazing
to pick and unravel if she cares enough
 Dec 2014 diana m
Emma Pickwick
It was almost a dream
I couldn't believe
You kissed me, then left
Like the shore and the sea.

Lips like candy floss,
Soft, sugary, and sweet
I was just this city to you
But you were the whole world to me.

I lay on my pillow
I reflect on it again and again
Trying to forget
But you're stuck in my head.

Can't move on any further
I'm stuck in one place
Stuck in my mind
Stuck on your face.

How you looked when you laughed
How you looked when you were sad
How you wrote down observations
In your pocket notepad.

It was almost a dream
I couldn't believe
You kissed me, then left
Like the shore and the sea.
Inspired by Leonard Cohen's "Hey, that's no way to say goodbye."
 Dec 2014 diana m
Emma Pickwick
His hands,
His hands,
He didn't have the right hands.

They weren't shaped right,
They weren't the right size,
They didn't feel right pressed against my body.
His hands didn't cup my ******* with love.
They didn't look like those of a strong man.

I've dreamed of these hands since I was young,
And I don't know why.
I haven't been able to find the right ones.

The right touch,
The right grasp,
The right hands.

I can see the veins,
Pressing against the surface of his skin.
The small lines sprawled across his palms.
His fingers a certain length,
His knuckles a certain size.
His hands,
The right ones.

Man of my dreams,
Only in my dreams,
His hands in my heart,
His hands the right hands.

— The End —