Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
 
 Oct 2014 shekhar suman
PrttyBrd
Traces of you line every moment silver,
     even in my darkest day
Traces of you can make the empty linger,
     the second you walk away

Traces of you are my hidden treasure,
     a joy that is all my own
Traces of you are too fine to measure,
     yet brighten my darkness alone

Traces of you make life worth living,
     the birth of my very smile
Traces of you make ease of forgiving,  
     though memories tend to beguile

Traces of you turn hell into glory,  
     then turn back the other way
Traces of you rewrite the story,
     every second of every day
copyright©PrttyBrd 27/06/2012
 Oct 2014 shekhar suman
Kasey
She woke up
And she could feel
His chest
Rising and falling underneath her fingertips
And she thought
She'd fall back asleep
Over
And over
And over again.
Just to wake up
Draped in him
Over
And over
And over again.
 Sep 2014 shekhar suman
axr
I see the moon in its waning phase

The cold,dark night it chose to embrace.

Turning itself into crimson orange and white,

illuminating the surroundings with its light.

It sinks itself and is nowhere to be seen.

The street lamp flickers,

leaving me thinking

If my eyes could take pictures.

The sky is the unusual shade of purple and blue,

the sun will show itself soon.

My lungs enjoy the fresh air

while my body screams for rest.

The breeze hits my body and makes me shiver

My eyes are desperate to click this picture.

The clouds form an unusual pattern,

something even my phone refuses to capture.

A delay of a few seconds and it's gone.

8 megapixels are not enough for this beauty.

The sun continues to shine fiercely.

Here I stand questioning myself,

Why can't my eyes take pictures?

The sky is a beautiful mixture of two

one half of it is orange,the other blue.

Sweat stings my eyes and my body

screams for relief.

But the view of the sky is something I refuse to believe.

In a matter of minutes, it turns itself into electric blue.

Making a breathtaking view.

Someday our human eyes will be strong enough,

Someday they will take pictures.

Someday we shall look past our desire to be perfect.

And live life hard with every breath.
Wrote it in late 2011.
I have enveloped you with my dying hands
And everything that might bring you here
From some place in my dreams.

Death would be a cruel death
If I have none to hold, my love.
Truly, my heart still seeks for you:

You, my dearest,
My pain, my breath;
The song that carries me to a long lost echo;
The echo that appears to be my nightsong,
Must curse me:

To bring old painful truth
On lasting new memories,
To bind forgotten lips
On long-forgotten lips,
And to have you--
Though not having you-

Gifted to be as loving as angels,
Gifted to just roam the earth
Without a face,
Or flesh--

Taking the final form...
...of pure love.

© 2010 J.S.P.
he walked slowly through
the dead leaves speaking aloud his poem of the heart
his world was indian summer that day
she had smiled
winter was her walking
so he walked with her
she smiled again

chew on the edges of thoughts you don't want to think
adjust your head to thinking them
so he tried on for size
her sympathetic tears
but he didn't like to see her cry
so she smiled again

he became dysfunctional in his due time
but not even her smile could fix his rusty chain
so she knew she needed a new friend
so she went walking
alone
thinking of his poem in the dead leaves
thinking of indian summer
 Sep 2014 shekhar suman
laiviv
There will come a time when the night air
won’t send chills down my spine
for it will no longer whisper your name.

I will stop telling stories about you,
for the moon has grew tired of hearing them
and weariness is an awful thing to feel.

The stars would appear
brighter than your eyes,
and I would hear lullabies again.

The winds would be warm,
the seas won’t crash waves,
and I will no longer drown.
 Jul 2014 shekhar suman
Paula Lee
Ashes to ashes and dust to dust
Call this assurance if you must;
But when it's time to say Farewell
To one you love, it's just plain hell.

There are no words, no healing balm,
To fill the void, to ease the calm;
And not a thing that one can say
Will drive the quick hot tears away.

We look upon the empty chair
And seek the one no longer there;
And so heartbreaking is the pain
We question if we'll meet again.

How grim indeed, if death should be
The Bitter End--- Eternity;
Just some vague dream conceived by Man
And not a part of any plan.

But God has taken such great care
To note the sparrow in the air;
His Love alone can cover all
And Mark a simple Sparrows' fall.

And if he cares for the birds that fly,
then he must hear My Anguished cry;
"Dear God, I yield my grief to Thee
For Thou alone can comfort me."
To Everyone who is struggling with Grief
Next page