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NvrMnd  May 2016
Lonely Wanderess
NvrMnd May 2016
Barefooted in the middle of nowhere
Where the lost can never be found
By anyone whose eyes were only caught by fancy shoes
I was wondering if someone will notice the barefooted
Stepping on thorns and stones
Every night in that nowhere there's the lonely wanderess
With eyes closed and ears open
Enough to lead her to the wonder of nowhere
Where the music is slowly playing
That keeps the trees sway in sweet rhythm
And leaves slowly falling, touching the lonely wanderess
Until finally hit the ground and withered
Reminding an old friend who once she walked with
And the lonely wanderess wasn't waiting for someone
She doesn’t want to be found nor saved by anyone
Whose heart withered in a long walk to nowhere
The lonely wanderess is afraid to even take another step
Thinking she’ll never find herself without getting wounded
Not the road she’s frightened but the thorns she imagined
But she chose to die trying to find something she can’t see
Darkness is that nowhere and she’s less happy but less sad
Carrying nothing but less of everything.
Roman Payne  May 2019
Wanderess
Roman Payne May 2019
She was free in her wildness.
She was a wanderess,
a drop of free water.
She belonged to no man,
and to no city.
This poem became the influence for the hit song "Hurricane" by Halsey; inspired Masaba Gupta (Indian fashion icon), and many others.
Gidgette  Mar 2017
Wanderess
Gidgette Mar 2017
I walk these streets,
of which, I don't belong
Ever carrying the scent of
Death,
and vintage whisky
A visceral and demented
MayBerry hell
Still,
It is here, in which I dwell
Everyone plays their part,
Pays their bills
Me?
A mere ghost
haunting these wooded hills
A house,
I possess  
Home,
I lack
I wander
Alone
I belong no where
Everywhere
Just not here
And so.....

I wander
And belong to no one
A wanderess.......

~A
It's my birthday. It rains.....
Roman Payne May 2019
I once had a love
who folded secrets between her thighs
like napkins,
and concealed memories in the valley
of her *******.
There was no match for the freckles on her chest,
and no one could mistake them for a field
of honeysuckles.
Upon her lips,
a thousand lies were spread in sweet gloss.
Her kiss was like a storybook of medieval chivalry,
or a poem from ancient history.
She was at home with the body of a man
inside her,
beside her.
And those night she lay in bed crying,
no one could mistake the tears she wept
for a summer shower.
She is gone, my Love.
She was a wanderess,
a wildflower.
Agatha Prideaux Apr 2020
Crisp summer breeze tickle wreaths of May blooms
Yellow flats traipse blocks where blue ocean looms
Serene waves greet shore's walls in fervent kiss
Moon's afterglow brush the scene in pure bliss

Fine sand witness time like dateless heirlooms
Brine's musk basks nightfall in coastal perfumes
Woven foams' calm poise in fond reminisce
With each cycle's ending, they go amiss

Red heels graze concrete in sultry whispers
As the salt-rimmed glass plays in my fingers
Gotcha!—my hapless victim for tonight

Caught my breath, it only faintly lingers
In front I stand, a door with four ciphers
"Aphrodite, save me" begins the plight
Day 6 of #NaPoWriMo 2020. Wrote a sonnet again for the first time in years. Pleased with how it turned out.
aj  Dec 2015
wanderess
aj Dec 2015
a peach beginning upon a
snow-born face of hope for a
purer tomorrow

chewed up and spit out by
the harsh lips of a
cigarrete kisser

he had lucifer's lies and
hellfire for a heart, yet
she loved him all the same

something's can't help but crave the pain of
being
choked with feeling

like
a secret
spoken so silently
that not even god himself
can hear it
Secret Poet  Aug 2015
Wanderess
Secret Poet Aug 2015
I'm an Adventurer,
I was born to travel this world
I shouldn't be tied down

I need to be free.

I have to be prepared
to set sail and explore
the deepest and the darkest,
the highest and the lightest
parts that this World has to offer me.
Adventure is out there.
Genissa  Sep 2017
Wanderess
Genissa Sep 2017
I only feel like myself
when I travel
When I'm
someplace new
I feel
at home
Den  Oct 2015
wanderess
Den Oct 2015
I never travel but I'm never home
The sky is always alive,
but it never talks to me
the way it does with other children

I'm never the same person;
I always change my skin
the way one would change out of his clothes
I never get to love myself
long enough for that

I never get it right enough,
always with a tinge of wrong
and I get so exhausted
but I never talk myself out of it

I never travel but I'm never home
A stranger my house knows too well
sigh
Jellyfish  Aug 2015
Sick
Jellyfish Aug 2015
I want to push you out of me
I don't want to need you the
way that I seem to.
But you've always been there
so it's kind of hard to do.
Honestly I just want the best
for you
So I'll disappear into the dark
I'm a wanderess already,
never sick of the rain that's
flooding me.
reverie  Aug 2018
wanderess
reverie Aug 2018
when i was small
my satin thighs
still stained in snow
untouched and wise

kept them closed
tucked in and nice
like a good girl would
with flustered eyes

somehow, i
still had to wonder
what it felt like
made me shudder

utter
stutters
hunters, youngsters

thrusting
lusting
rough and tight
busting
something
day and night

growing older
i dimmed the lights
on mattresses rusting
in hotel room nights

these days my story
isn’t quiet and right
filled with mourns
and shorts
pulled down ever so slight

these days i wander
in alleys and arms
of men and monsters
oh,
but believe me
they got their charms

— The End —