Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
newpoetica Sep 2019
truth be told i'm scared to say,
my feelings that are kept at bay,
for fear of their own betray,
because i know that when they come into play,
the boy i feel things for will run away.
RhettlvScarlett Oct 2018
A repost:
A Roman poem written before The birth of Christ, inspired the title Gone With The wind
with Scarlett and Rhett Butler

But here you see only old
confessions of a man's true love for his beloved who is all gone
-Or-
(Or a woman's true love for
her beloved runner wishing she could have chased.)
~~~
CYNAR*A.
~~~~~
Last night yesternight, betwixt her lips and mine
There fell thy shadow, Cynara! Thy breath was shed
Upon my soul between the kisses and the wine;
And I was desolate and sick of an old passion,
  Yea, I was desolate and bowed my head:
I have been faithful to thee, Cynara! in my fashion.

All night upon mine heart I felt her warm heart beat,
Night-long within mine arms in love and sleep she lay;
Surely the kisses of her bought red mouth were sweet;
But I was desolate and sick of an old passion,
  When I awoke and found the dawn was grey:
I have been faithful to thee, Cynara! in my fashion.
I have forgot much, Cynara! Gone with the wind,
Flung roses, roses riotously with the throng,
Dancing, to put thy pale, lost lilies out of mind
But I was desolate and sick of an old passion,
  Yea, all the time, because the dance was long:
I have been faithful to thee, Cynara! in my fashion.

I cried for madder music and for stronger wine,
But when the feast is finished and the lamps expire,
Then falls thy shadow, Cynara! The night is thine;
And I am desolate and sick of an old passion,
  Yea, hungry for the lips of my desire:
I have been faithful to thee, Cynara! in my fashion.
~~~~~~~

By:Ernest Dowson
For:RhettlvScarlet.
to honor Karijinbba
in her great loss and healing
of her memory chip.
~~~~~~
Copy Rights.
~~~~
Ernest Dowson (1867-1900) died of alcoholism at the age of 32. His downward spiral began at age 23 when he fell for an 11 year old girl who would spurn him at 14 when he proposed marriage.
The following year, in 1894 his father died from an overdose. Dowson's mother
hanged herself within a year of her husband's death.

Soon after this dual tragedy Dowson left for France before returning back to England in 1897. Curiously he lived with the family of his unrequited love. Penniless, heartbroken and filling the empty voids in his life with alcohol, Dowson would spend the last six weeks of his life in the cottage of the Oscar Wilde biographer Robert Sherard who had found him
drunk in a bar.

Speaking of Oscar Wilde, he wrote after Dowson's death of a,"Poor wounded wonderful fellow that he was, a tragic reproduction of all tragic poetry, like a symbol, or a scene.

I hope bay leaves will be laid on his tomb and rue and myrtle too for he knew what true love
unrequieted love was."
~~~~~
Rhett Buttler might have married other women but he never stopped loving Scarlett his true twin soul.
IN EVERY LIFETIME!
Renée Jul 2019
tanned thighs
perfect music and perfect laughs
your house sits on the hill where the bay lies
grassy and stretching down to where the water runs like a marathon medalist or a
tidal pool circling around to reach its tail
you tail me too, when we chase each other on these fine white sands
tail me, I dare you,
get me, adore me
like you do at 3 in the morning when you have me on the counter to sing to and look at me
fanned nights, palms in the sticky air of a summer evening
spread like cards on the low table
heat simmering like breakfast at 4, which we take with us
to have on cracking shells and blacked feathers along the shore
I see your skin, soft, pulling sand—your fingers—sifting beaches, straining them easily
warmer than the sun—your eyes
august nights that bring the fight into you
you’re talking nonsense, but it makes perfect sense because it’s you
rosy cloud matter hangs above ‘till I’m under glass surfacetops, at the bottom of the sea
but I wake up just above it
to be a floater—streaming boater girl, always
really, just watching you, down with another, passion firing your eyes, unlocked
I watch as I do butterflies
wild and free to fly
it’s okay, I told you
you’re suntanned and you’re mad
you’re talking, like you do
but it’s okay
because you’re free
M H John Jun 2019
hearing your voice
and hearing your name
brings back the pain
of what was yesterday

i found your coffee stained shirt
hidden deep in my drawers
and it brought back all those memories
of us at the corner cafe

and days where we’d sit along the bay
and count the stars
as we’d name them after our dreams

these days i find myself
trying to let the time heal eventually
all our memories
all our history
and all you meant to me
Bryce Jun 2019
The rails scream in the darkness
Sparking, lambent bulbs trace starlight behind tinted glass
No words, just motionless exhibition of man
Child
The shrill yapping of a terrified pup
Ears plugged from the disastrous din of metal rubbing against itself

The train flies through an evacuated tube pressed beneath the innumerable water column
And it is deafening.

Behind us the gentle shipyards, ahead the recipient city
Waiting to drink up our wallets and time with her promiscuous streets
As she bends her towering legs to the ironically Chinese
Barge
Blowing its baritone warning flutes
As it tugs itself upon her Bays.

I am reading the book, seeing the Brothers through the din, in between the two cities
The two unhappinesses
and the creatures they identify with

It is a giant artifact,
the tube
It protrudes through
The ships
She sunk and constructed
Market, Mission, Pier, a swamp of concrete
Over the dried clump of trees
A thousand bits of Theseus
And the abandoned bones of thirsting men
Running east, towards Pittsburg
Richmond
Warm Springs
The line is soft between these rusting zones
And the gold
Forgotten for silicone

I am reading a book
About brothers and the curse of stone
Sharing stares with dirogenous hobos
And girl's pupils
feasting on bodies hidden behind periodicals

The rails scream in protest
The railcars are turning up and out
Towards the end of the darkness
And the start of the largeness

The city waits to list her failures to me
To cry herself to sleep with raindrops of fog
And rasping breaths of breeze.
Crystal Freda Jun 2019
d r i p p l e, d r I p p l e,
her toes echoing the ripples..

s o o t h I n g s o l I t u d e,
her tensions slowly spawns to elude...

w h I r l I n g w I n d s,
swift saplings of the crisp crimson...

l I m e l i l y p a d s,
citron circles luring the lags...

s w a y, s w a y,
her leafless legs basking the bay.
Joselyn Jun 2019
Voice as deep as the ocean
Hair as vibrant as the sunset sky
Eyes, blue-green like the bay
Skin soft like the fine sand
Gentle like the sea breeze
You remind me of home
J.L.P.
Hussein Dekmak May 2019
With your smile:
You can melt stress away,
Keep a heart attack at bay,
Make today a more productive day,
Conquer your worries, make them yesterday,
Treat each new dawn as your special holiday!

Hussein Dekmak
Edited 2
Eitten S Apr 2019
A ship sailed
Across the  sea
Looking for it’s final resting place
Looking for peace

The ship sailed
Masts unfurled
While in the waves
It was hurled

Another ship sailed
Across the lake
Looking for it’s final resting place
Hoping for it’s last trip to take

The ship sailed
Gently accelerating
While the lake
Was unmoving

A third ship sailed
Across the bay
Looking for it’s final resting place
Waiting for the end of day

The ship sailed
Proud, was it’s crew
While the sun set
And  the night was new
I tried to create a peaceful poem. Hope you like it! Thanks for reading!
Jordan Hudson Apr 2019
Dark night skyline by the sea
Far sighted city lighting
Why the seagulls fighting?
Building tall above them all
Cranes up building walls at the mall
On the streets, on my way
Stop to eat, only short stay
Nice cars and fancy suits
Pirate loot and seaweed roots
Vacation gone, leaving now
Gas station we leaving town
Scraper heights, I just might
Stay awhile driving miles
Off work, out of school
I be cool with the crew
Southern meet danger streets
Stay a week, dreams I seek
Low to the ground, out of town
Around and round and about
This city I am out
Dark sky, interstate signs
This is why I drive in the lines
I'd get lost any other way
The gas cost the next day
Would only go up
Could only slow all of us
Skylines rising above
The city lights are what I love
All silence but the road
Line by line a repeating code
Morse code on the road
Bay ahead the maps show
City lights glow
In the sky city crows
Car meets with stance so low
I can get there by chance though
Night driving by a bay
Next page