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Alice Sep 2017
The beholder of a
beautiful soul,
will forever be at peace with ones inner self.

For here lies a blossoming tree;
grown by the beauty seen through
their eyes and mind.
I am just a man
And my dream has just began
To be a great writer is what I want
To write something for everyone…

I believe it is not easy
But someday you will see,
With my confident to do this duty,
I will write a great poetry.

I will write a song,
I will write a poem,
Even telling you the story
Of the beautiful cherry blossom

And when I end this,
I know that I made it;
And behind all of this,
Is a great writer to be cherished…

©2009 John Vincent Obiena. All rights reserved.
This passion is always a dream of me, I really want to be a writer, a poet, and sometimes I ask my self I already started to reach my dream...
Gabriel burnS Aug 2017
You asked to have me too?

I’m a lilac, after all… or were I?
You don’t believe, that until recently
I smelled and bloomed

Greedy hands were reaching out to me
They picked and tore, and took my bloom away
My odor… stolen by the wind

My leaves…
A mist desired them, eyes watering
And so I gave
But to a cloud she ran away
And built a nest from them
My branches…
Caressed by frost-bitten beggar
She too asked to have them
I gave again
She put them to the fire

You asked to have me too?

I’m a lilac, after all… or were I?
Ever seen the aroma and the bloom of sin?

Your eyes perhaps caught too much light or tears?
Are you disappointed; maybe bored? Don’t go.
It seems there’s nothing left for you but you are wrong

Beneath your feet, buried deep within the soil
My root is dwelling waiting for the spring
The last and best of me
I hid and kept it just because
I’m a lilac, after all… or were I?
If you’d like I’ll show you how I used to bloom

Where are you going

Wait

Don’t you want me anymore
Author: Valeri Dimitrov; translation from Bulgarian: Gabriel burnS;
This translation was done with the special permission of the author.

Original poem:

Люляк

И ти ли ме поиска?

Все пак люляк съм. Или пък... бях?
Не вярвяш, че до скоро и ухаех, и цъфтях...

Към мене алчно се протягаха ръцете.
Беряха, късаха... отнесоха ми цветовете.
Уханието ми? Откраднаха го ветровете.

Листата ми?
Поиска ги една мъгла със капещи очи.
Дадох ги.
А тя при облака избяга. С листата ми гнездо си сви.
Клоните ми?
Премръзналата просякиня ги погали.
И тя ме молеше.
Дадох ги.
А тя със клоните ми огън си запáли.

И ти ли ме поиска?

Все пак люляк съм. Или пък... бях?
Виждала ли си разцъфнал и ухаещ грях?

Май нещо свети във очите ти. Сълзиш?
Разочарована? Или си отегчена? Недей да си вървиш!
За тебе нищо не било останало? - Грешиш!

В краката ти, там долу във пръстта,
Коренът ми упорито чака пролетта.
Последното от мен, но най-доброто.
Скрито. Тайно... Пазих го, защото...
Все пак люляк съм. Или пък... бях?
Искаш ли да ти покажа как цъфтях?...

Къде отиваш?
......................
Чакай!
...............................
Не ме ли искаш вече?...  ,  ,, , ,
,, , ,  , ,,   , ,   ,,
, , ,, , ,,,
, , ,
,
Lyvana Nyx Aug 2017
Dreams bloom
Over white pages
Filling it with color and ink
Scribbles of thoughts
Scattered throughout
Like pollen in a spring field
Light swells
Blindingly fast
Emconmpassing everything
Nothing but bliss in heaven
For this moonlit fragment.
Random. Kinda liked the feel of this one but less focus on rhythm, more on imagery.
olivia g Aug 2017
I would write to you if only I could.

But I can't distract myself from my own head; it just hasn't been quiet around here since my mind first started humming with the idea of loving you.

Knowing your soul like my own would blossom within me like a sprawling forest.

But while you're still unsure, I'm just wandering through the leaves.

And while I'm gone, I'll bet the trees pray to be dead just so they don't have to listen to me talk about you again.

But I ache with sorrow for their misunderstanding,

Because you are a song I will sing until it hurts anywhere above a whisper.
Poetic T Aug 2017
Voices cradled
             in hollow cribs.

Loitering whispers are
            ingested haphazardly.  

Comatose I linger awaiting
my voice to blossom again.

I will again be myself
                in an empty room..
Maria Etre Aug 2017
Eve
Just like a flower
take your time
soaking up
the brightness
of the sun
and bloom
into a ripe
mature fruit
seducing
the Adams of the
world
Star BG Jul 2017
I'm your blossom,
that flowers with beauty.
Your my water that feeds
sacred ground caressing my roots.

I’m your floret
that opens divinely
Your my sun of light
the sacred breeze that hugs with love.

I’m yours for all time.
Your mine who holds my heart.
inspired by Rianna's poetry
The Writer Jun 2017
Blossoms of color
fill the world with sweet beauty
spreading happiness
margaret Jun 2017
Blossoms fall from air
Each one a dying sunrise
Is the world ending?
Let's just say it's an acquired taste.
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