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Folake May 18
I really wish I existed only in paper
Existed only 2 dimensional
Existed just in writings,
Sometimes I wish I was fictional..
Just something i thought about when i feel low
Evening Song
Willa Cather - 1873-1947



Dear love,                                              
what thing of all the things that be 
Is ever worth one thought from you or me, 
             Save only Love, 
             Save only Love?
The days so short, the nights so quick to flee, 
The world so wide, so deep and dark the sea, 
              So dark the sea; 
So far the suns and every listless star, 
Beyond their light—Ah! dear, who knows how far, 
             Who knows how far? 
One thing of all dim things I know is true, 
The heart within me knows, and tells it you, 
             And tells it you. 
So blind is life, so long at last is sleep, 
And none but Love to bid us laugh or weep, 
             And none but Love, 
             And none but Love.


______


Evening Song Twice
O.L.P. 1950-


Dear love,
your soft sleeping+breathing sounds require
Recitation of this, an Evening Song, singular thoughts,
           Save for only your love,
           Save for only your love,
Days are short, long nights grant permission,
Days are short, long nights grant commission,
            So dark are the seas of interruption,
The voids, the emptying spaces of inhibition,
Dim my eye lights, you, envisioned, me, tremulous and weak,
             Who knows when I shall see you again so clearly?
Of all things past, so well remembered burnishing caresses,
My heart within speaks, once more into the clouded atmosphere,
             Even as you sleep, my love, yet full on complete,
Tho my senses impaired, my thoughts thru your sleep, I’ll penetrate,
And none but Love to bid us laugh or weep, 
              And none but Love, 
              And none but Love.
Vraj thakkar Dec 2019
One day , when i was feeling lonlier than i ever had ,
When i couldn't control my feelings and even small things could make me mad ,
When i felt my body and brain losing the rhyme ,
I went out on a journey ignoring all cycles of time.

I sat in a bus going to a place, i had never heard off before,
I felt sorry to be unkind and i didn't want to hurt my parents anymore ,
It was about midnight and freezing cold ,
Life felt like walking on a narrow bridge all alone with nothing to hold.

The driver started the bus and a man came and sat beside me,
"I know what you are going through" , he said wisely,
Who are you ? And what do you know about me?
"I have come to make you realise all you have and to tell you that you don't have to flee."

It wasn't much time but the buss stopped near a door,
Everybody in the bus was asleep and it was so silent that i could hear my footsteps on the floor,
I could hear distant music as i followed the man,
My heart was racing as i didn't know him or his plans.

The door opened and a vibe changed the velocity of the blood in my veins,
It opened to a pub , full of people cheering and dancing , i felt my heart shut my brain,
I fearlessly moved my body with the tunes of music,
I forgot about the pain , i forgot all i had ruinned.

I searched for the man , i wanted to ask him who he was and what this place was?
I somehow also had to thank him to bring in me my soul back which had probably frost,
In those flickering lights of the club I recognised a familiar face,
I knew the microsecond that it was her and i was lost in deep daze.

With the best red gown in the world to the most worthy body,
Deep black eyes and rosy cheeks , her look ran through my blood like an antibody,
She was moving quite leisurely with the tunes and the beats,
I think she felt my gaze as she opened her her eyes, though i didn't like her stop her feets.

I felt my tears only when they slid through my face,
I wonder how god scripts the meeting of soulmates,
She ran towards me and hugged me , my chest could feel her sob,
After a while did we realise that there was no club , no people , no music but just thick clouds of fog.
MSunspoken Nov 2019
Hiding in the attic
I couldn’t take it anymore
The fighting was erratic
And everyone thought me a bore

Cries sounded around
Yet I was silent
The others were upset again
Sounds like one went to town

The sound of footsteps filled  the air
Like a cricket in the dead of night
Slowly making their way closer
Til I was frightened by an awful sight

A putrid smell filled the air
Liquor drank just before
This THING came to stare at me
Then there sounded a familiar roar

Laughter
It found me funny
How- I know not
There was no humor in the situation at all

Walking closer
it smelled me like a rose
Then dropped to my feet
And began mumbling by my toes

There it was again
The laughter
It laughed to the air
Which filled the empty walls of my lair

I was done watching this unfold
I took my bat and smashed and smashed
Crack!
I bashed every bone I could now see protruding from it

I looked to see it laughing-
Still!
I swung until I couldn’t
But that wasn’t enough

The roaring went on forever
It would never stop
I ran downstairs toward the door
And kept my legs going on, until they made me drop

Down the street
Through the park
Into the store
Right into the aisle

Before I knew it, I was home
in the attic
Listening to the roaring again

My mind, crystal clear
My mother laying there
Broken on the attic floor\
Her eyes giving me a dead stare

Using the item from the store
I sank it deep in my heart
Yet my knowledge  hurt it more
So I did it again

My life was never easy
But I always had my family
My mother may have hurt me
But I was her life

I couldn’t believe myself
How could one be so cruel
I thought she was frightening
But it doesn’t compare

I am her life
As she is mine
A common love really
That cannot be undermined

Death was a nightmare
Yet not  even real
I would die a thousand times
But my heart would be broken still

I thought I've seen monsters
Had a few experiences scored
But humans are the true haunters
And I am the most horrid
This is the second poem for the challenge! I know I haven't mentioned it before, but this poem is a perfect example for it. I love telling sequenced stories throughout my poems, it always makes them more lively (in my opinion).
Jonathan Moya Nov 2019
The earlier horror leaves DT  
a broken drunken man
building smaller worlds within worlds,
boxes within boxes,
memories within smaller memories
to keep the monsters from eating
the shining he has left.

He is forever moving
to the same room
with different people.

“We are all dying”, he thinks,
“The world is one big hospice
with fresh air.”

The calico cat jumps on his bed,
sensing it’s time for the long dream.

“Nothing to be scared off, it’s just sleep,”
are his last thoughts as he
fondles his sobriety chip before
meeting his father in their shared dark.

The man takes a drink.
The drink takes a drink.
The drink takes the man.

In his dreams the world is full of
superheroes, vampires and redrum
reflecting backwards in the mirror.

He doesn’t end.
He just flys away.
Heaven is full of the shining.
Guilty Nov 2019
2
Sometimes you can't express desire,
In the ways you'd like to.
So in this case, I'll hide it.
Hide how much I want you.
I wanna taste you so bad, I wanna do some bad stuff there. But you know, life doesn't always work out like that.
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