Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
 
Simone Gabrielli Oct 2017
This land still sings your silent song
I chased it West under suspension bridges
In the empty whiskey bottles along Mississippi railroad tracks
In the sound of sugar sweet air in blue humid mornings
and the cool breath of absinthe sipped by the riverside
flanked by banana leaves.
Heard it in the breeze of swamp-side Cyprus trees, over swaying docks to rod iron French Quarter balconies, above the Bourbon street children drumming hymns of the Bayou's soul.
Simone Gabrielli Oct 2017
Leave those New York blues behind
Forget the Chelsea Hotel
Living in LA's a lot like Heaven
With all the sins of hell.
Simone Gabrielli Aug 2017
I wonder what its like in your city by the bay
How the streets look without that soft neon decay.
The rumblings from distant shores makes it hard to sleep.
Like nights spent on Long Island up on Amphetamines.
Simone Gabrielli Aug 2017
A troubled mind is hard to find.
All backwards words and broken rhymes.
Simone Gabrielli Apr 2017
I went to that stupid festival in the desert
Only to see you on the stage
And share a parliament with you after your set
And watch the way your blue eyes sparkled

I forced myself to wait those 2 hours to text you back
Guided around the grass by friends
Tearing my hair out in nerves

And then I saw you galloping up
Cute smile and curled quirky lips
We shared the gin you snuck in
And watched Lady Gaga
And shared a cigarette
And I wore your coat
And watched your face light up
And you wanted to meet me again.
Simone Gabrielli Mar 2017
And in that wild berlin winter
I twirled ghosts through the frozen, concrete streets
Out of bohemian jungles in the midnight afternoon
I returned to the States with terrible ennui

Slumped on cold buses
I flew through Hamburg in an ***** haze
Smoking joints in the lantern lit glow of Amsterdam
I didn’t eat for 3 days

I rode the train to Zoo Station
And flitted about East Berlin
Where there was no excitement to be had
Walking the night alone in the bitter, biting wind

I took the ferry over to England
Safe in the Mersey’s mystical, dreary mist
I hid my tired eyes under my fisherman’s cap
And found an expanse of quiet, precious bliss

Ailing from nights spent on streets and stranger’s floors
I was a child, traveling alone
Disenchanted by my youthful escapades,
Cured of the plaguing desire to ramble and roam.
Simone Gabrielli Jan 2017
All wicked smiles sitting in broken sinks In dive bar bathrooms Our shoulder blades slamming against the mirror ******, little girl lost, in hazy clubs Flitting about dazzling New York nights pupils blown in soft, doe eyes, baby-faced, pistol-quick smiles Torn denim jacket sleeping on a greyhound Nights spent pacing the train station Didn’t eat for days stayed up for nights Hearts rabbiting in our chests Windows open sitting in that Brooklyn loft Walking to the East River at sunrise.
Next page