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Michael Blonski Oct 2016
She was never one for
close contact
A hug
was just not something
to give away easily

We grew up together
for the past 16 years
I've been near her through
tears of a fallen friend
The end of high school
and meaningless adventures

We've always said goodbye
A simple wave
with a goofy grin  
Till the day my time there
came to an end

I moved away
far away
to a place she couldn't reach
And the last time I saw her she
offered me a comforting hug

As if I was going to
the trenches of a great war
It was strange
It was odd
It felt like no hug I felt
before

It was real
It was powerful
I never wanted to both
feel and not feel
a hug like that again

She was my secret crush
She would always be my
friend
Michael Blonski Oct 2016
Too late to die young
too early to die

I always live through
stranger's eyes

Those which gaze
upon this maze called life

Clairvoyant
and pure
I surrender the choice

The poisons they see
they work swiftly

Constantly drowning in
the sea
and my body drifts
by currents
slowly

To beaches
To shores
found in oblivion

I'll stand up
dust off
and dive back again

Into riptides
That pull me far away
from here

To
Surrender the day
To
Surrender the year
Michael Blonski Sep 2016
The taste of summer
is the smell of fresh
cut grass

The joy of heat
seeping deep
within
your surfaces exposed

When the sun goes
and says its farewells
to skyscrapers and mountains
It sets to greet the other
side

While I try not to
fall in summer love
with the passer by
Michael Blonski Sep 2016
I ask,
Is it more poetic
to write the most
beautiful of stanzas
devoid of any truth
or meaning?

Or, writing
from raw emotion
where beauty resides
behind the words
and ink flows
like blood and tears?
Michael Blonski Aug 2016
Impressionist Monet,
Was rejected by his contemporaries
À Paris

No longer wanting
To be a small fish in a
Large pond

He moved on to form
Anonymity amongst
Those who created
Independently

Resulting,
In Starry nights
And dots that
Transmogrify
Into tranquility
Michael Blonski Aug 2016
Time,
You are a thread
Undone stitching
stretching from a beginning
to your breaking point

Time,
how have you changed me?
Am I no longer
who I was?
Why must you trap me
in this endless thicket of
unknown horizons?

I hear your knocks
on my door Time.
They've been echoing since before yesterday
shaking walls, my picture
frames,

Framed happy faces of youthful bliss,
the kiss of
eternity,
The missing childhood friends
and a
family that used to be complete

Before Time's hand
choked their
breath
Michael Blonski Aug 2016
As curtains fall
and pen touches paper
Feel my blood pulsing
through my cold fingers

I begin to dream and end
with a scene
Beautiful imagery
standing still

Hoping I'll fall through
this ink smeared paper
feel the of warmth on my skin
a bit longer and the feeling of laughter

Until I give in
and crumple this prose
into a misshapen paper ball
To hell with this lie
and the stories i've
been told

I only want what is real
I only want what I can feel

I need to be able to touch the soul
within
And feel the passion in this
world that I'm in

One day victory will be mine
One day I'll find what is mine
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