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joycewrites  Jul 2016
Fernweh
joycewrites Jul 2016
She was never steady—
always ready for the grand depart;
she lived for take-offs and landings—
she's the girl with a suitcase heart.
(c) 2016 - Mary Joyce Tibajia
Secret Poet  Feb 2016
Fernweh
Secret Poet Feb 2016
My mind full of hope and eagerness to travel far and beyond further than the eyes can see.
My body aches for those places I have yet to travel to.
My eyes seek those places unimaginably visited.
My soul searches for another like me.
Let's get lost?
kaylee rowena  Sep 2013
fernweh
kaylee rowena Sep 2013
you spell traveling as travelling
and never write travelled,
ever
because that would mean it stopped
and traveling should go on
forever.

you want to get lost in a supernova
and when it destroys you;
be scattered among the galaxies.
(you always longed for the stars)

you write "travelling"
because if we can't bend language
to our whims
(it is, after all, the only way to tell
a thought, a hope, a desire)
then what use is it?
sanch kay  Oct 2015
fernweh
sanch kay Oct 2015
i lost it
to the mountains, that night when
the fireplace consumed log after log
throwing orange red and yellow
across the underground walls
, and
the river rushed above us
winter wonderland;
where three feet beds of snow
kiss jagged glacier lips and
bleed rivers.

i lost myself
that night, with you
(to you)
*in the mountains.
till we get to travel together for real, i'll keep myself content with sketching little adventures for us through daydreams painted in poetry.
dorian green  Apr 2016
fernweh
dorian green Apr 2016
the pull from under my ribs
is wanderlust
unsuccessfully convincing myself

that the ache in my soul
is not my red string of fate--
the one wrapped around my heart--

being pulled taut
ripping my organs from my chest  
and breaking my ribs like glass

it is not,
i whisper, not fooling anyone
the distance that makes it feel

like glass shards have taken over my throat
crawling from my mouth
and cutting off my tongue

it is not,
the fact that i cannot hold you
that makes my arm feel as if they have no purpose

it is not,
you being so far from my heart, my arms
that cuts up my insides so fine

please let me pretend,
just for a while longer,
that you being gone doesn't make me feel like a goner
unfinished; may return to
Yasmin Z  Aug 2015
Fernweh
Yasmin Z Aug 2015
I'm currently in this complicated situation of trying to figure out who I am and exactly what I want to do with my life.

Yet self love in a world seeking to mould us to a social convention is the greatest hurdle to overcome in the step to figuring out exactly who we are.

Can you remember who you were before you were told who to be?

I endeavour to do this through taking time out and moving away for a while. Indeed I have wanted this for a while.

One must find oneself before expecting to be found.
Starting a new stage in my life and feeling a little sentimental...
I don't normally do any creative writing- find it easier to appreciate other work! Apologies if it doesn't read particularly like a poem.
Steff  Oct 2017
Fernweh
Steff Oct 2017
I'd like to go for a drive
Leave this place behind for a while
Taking to the path beyond
Watching as every unfamiliar road
Passes me by
One…
   By one..
      By one…
Finding myself in unknown towns
In far away places
Satisfying this desire
To be anywhere else but here
I want to just…
        Go...
Until I find the place where my heart longs to be
Gold  May 2014
Liebe
Gold May 2014
Ich habe Fernweh nach dem Ort an dem du gerade bist, und Heimweh nach dem Platz in deinem Herzen.
Ich liebe den Himmel, und ich wünschte ich wäre das Firmament über dir, egal ob hinter Wolken versteckt oder mit den Gestirnen geschmückt, denn dann würde ich dich immer sehen und immer bei dir seien.
Jedoch könnte ich dich nie berühren, von da oben.
Vielleicht wäre es besser, der Boden zu seien. Du legst dich in mein warmes Gras und atmest meinen Duft ein, nach einem Regenschauer, und würdest dabei lächeln. Aber als der Boden, würdest du mich je bemerken? Und wenn ja, würdest du nicht nur auf mich herabsehen?
Das würde ich nicht überleben, wir sind alle aus Sternenstaub, und besonders in der Liebe gleich.
Aber wenn du mir diese drei Worte ins Ohr flüsterst oder sie mir ins Gesicht schreist, dann ist es eh egal. Denn dann steht alles auf dem Kopf, am Himmel ist das Wasser der Meere und ich schwimme durch Wolken. Ich gehe über Federn, und das Federkleid der Vögel besteht aus Gras.
So ist es, zumindest in meinem Kopf, jedes Mal nachdem du mein Herz mit den Schmetterlingen, die du in meinem Bauch ausgesetzt hast, erschütterst hast.
I have a desire to travel to the place where you are right now and homesickness to the place in your heart.
I love the sky, and I wish I were the firmament above you, whether hidden behind clouds or adorned with stars, because then I could always see you and be with you.
However, I could never touch you, from there above.
Maybe it would be better to be the ground. You lay down in my warm grass and breathe in my scent after rain and smile. But as the ground, would you ever recognize me? And if yes, wouldn't you just look down on me?
I wouldn't survive that, we're all made from stardust, and especially equal when in love.
But when you whisper those three words in my ear or scream them in my face, than it doesn't matter anyway. Because then, everything is upside down, the sky is made of the water of the seas and I swim through clouds. I walk over feathers and the feathering of the birds is made of grass.
This is how it is, at least in my head, everytime after you roused my heart with the butterflies you set out in my stomach.

— The End —