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nim Apr 2021
cigarette ashes
fly on the wind,
as i stare at my black coffee,
it gazes back at me.
black sobranie,
and i debate;
of all the people,
i find it hard to see
is there something
worth seeking.
just like dust,
i let them go
i never looked back
let them think i'm bore.
you may be
a world unseen,
yet i am so tired
no words flow well enough.
i'll just go lose myself
in paint and doubt
while i stare at my coffee,
and flit around.
Heidi Johanna Oct 2020
I must know the ocean
With every breath I breathe
Not just tender sunsets
But the roaring seas
I must go so deep
Almost scared to find what I need
All those mighty waves
Crashing over me

It’s not enough
To sit on my balcony
If I know I could travel where
The ocean is all I see
I’ll leave the land I came from
To follow where she leads
‘cos she met my every question
And that cry for destiny

You wouldn’t call me a fool
If you’d seen what I see
When I look at the ocean
I know she’s there for me
Her steady, constant waves
Never cease to instruct me
As she leads, I will follow
All the way to the deep
-elixir- Aug 2020
The early dose of caffeine
dons the costume of
fuel amidst the sleepy
blues of oblivion.
As I huddle up
in the balcony
to observe the rain
wash away the nights'
miseries away and shine
the light on my soul and the
dreams that remain a mystery.
Sarah Pavlak May 2020
Back in January seeds started flowing
From the balcony.

On Sunday we read
The poems of the deaf and
Watched the matches stumble
Drunkenly through the darkness.

In March my hips began to
Fill out like my mother’s.

A monsoon of bullet ants
Waged war along the perimeter of the bath.
I squashed three under my thumb.
Hide, I told them. I have dropped mercy off the edge of the hanging bridge.

In May the stars were soft,
The ants came back to bite me in my sleep.

I tried to clasp your nose to keep you warm
But all the heat had flown from our bodies.
Sacrifices were made along the way.
The ants, admittedly, least among them.
Michael R Burch Mar 2020
Le Balcon (“The Balcony”)
by Charles Baudelaire
loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch

Paramour of memory, ultimate mistress,
source of all pleasure, my only desire;
how can I forget your ecstatic caresses,
the warmth of your ******* by the roaring fire,
paramour of memory, ultimate mistress?

Each night illumined by the burning coals
we lay together where the rose-fragrance clings—
how soft your *******, how tender your soul!
Ah, and we said imperishable things,
each night illumined by the burning coals.

How beautiful the sunsets these sultry days,
deep space so profound, beyond life’s brief floods ...
then, when I kissed you, my queen, in a daze,
I thought I breathed the bright bouquet of  your blood
as beautiful as sunsets these sultry days.

Night thickens around us like a wall;
in the deepening darkness our irises meet.
I drink your breath, ah! poisonous yet sweet!,
as with fraternal hands I massage your feet
while night thickens around us like a wall.

I have mastered the sweet but difficult art
of happiness here, with my head in your lap,
finding pure joy in your body, your heart;
because you’re the queen of my present and past
I have mastered love’s sweet but difficult art.

O vows! O perfumes! O infinite kisses!
Can these be reborn from a gulf we can’t sound
as suns reappear, as if heaven misses
their light when they sink into seas dark, profound?
O vows! O perfumes! O infinite kisses!



The Perfect Courtesan
by Michael R. Burch

after Baudelaire, for the courtesans

She received me into her cavities,
indulging my darkest depravities
with such trembling longing, I felt her need ...

Such was the dalliance to which we agreed—
she, my high rider;
I, her wild steed.

She surrendered her all and revealed to me—
the willing handmaiden, delighted to please,
the Perfect Courtesan of Ecstasy.

Keywords/Tags: Baudelaire, translation, French, balcony, paramour, memory, mistress, desire, caresses, fire, coals, rose, *******, night, breath, feet, lap, body, heart, vows, perfumes, kisses, gulf, suns, heaven, light, seas
japheth Jan 2020
you have seen my tears fall
more often than my friends.

you, my dear balcony:
audience of
lights from houses and buildings,
cars passing by,
the moon,
and the stars.

but tonight, my dear audience,
i have to apologize.

for my spectacle of  melancholy
has shifted
to a grand finale of celebration.

request an encore.
Caroline Sep 2019
De mon balcon terrassés d’herbes fines je les vois
Des taches noires mes yeux plissés les aperçoivent
Des hirondelles accompagnées de moineaux
Une parade douce et enivrante les oiseaux
Instiguent le goût de planer alléchant
De rejoindre leurs rangs célestes bien avant
Que la nuit dévore les dernières lumières
Qui, ores, livrent une spectaculaire
Fresque de couleurs vives et de nuages
Lisses ou joufflus tels que des personnages
Passant de jaune à bleu argenté, l’horizon
Tranché par de silencieux et petits avions
Gazouille d’invisibles meutes d’insectes
Qui rempliront bientôt de joyeux becs
Adellebee Jul 2019
When you have no pockets to put your lighters in
And your nails are too long,
You find yourself on the balcony staring off
Staring off into the night sky

That soft, deep sea blue cast across your skyline

You catch a thought,
You think,
The simple things,
A glowing read star, could be mars

The thoughts I think, Smoking on my balcony
Amanda Kay Burke Feb 2019
"Is this how you want to spend the rest of your life?
With nothing to live for except the anticipation of your next high?"

Of course you say no, that you want much more than that
Yet you keep destroying yourself in the same place you've been at

I love you so much but I can't witness up close anymore
It hurts to observe from a distance, but a front-row seat hurts even more
An excerpt from a letter I wrote to HIM.. everyone knows who that guy is. I did change a few parts to make it rhyme but the identical message is conveyed.
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