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Joanna Oct 7
As the quiet overtakes and the day moves into the night, my spirit longs for something that's right.

Something that gives me the way out of being continually torn.

And as the light pierces the darkness in the early morn, there is release for my broken heart, to take a new form.

Healing the breach and creating a bridge to living in an hour when everything seems to drive one to the edge.

Giving me the strength to walk without fear, knowing there is a purpose, and it's time to draw near.
Faith we are told is line upon line...sometimes the lines get blurred and sometimes they seem very disconnected. Faith of a mustard seed is all one needs.
NR Dudley Oct 6
the light from my soul
casts a shadow on my heart
and i weep
because your gone
i'm all alone
in the rain
on the bridge where we met
your spirit shimmers
as if the sun
is trapped inside of you
i suppose that's so
my face is stained with tears
forever flowing
life tainted by your absence
i can't bear it anymore
i jump
as i plunge in the river of grief
your spirit pulls me up
and i'm on the shore
seeing your face fade
with the shadows
For anyone who has lost someone they loved, know that they are always here in spirit and in your heart ❤
Translated by Przemyslaw Musialowski 7/13/2018

He stands firmly
on oak legs
moss-covered from knees
to the shoulders

He knows
that he must last

from the cliff to the cliff
handrails
like limbs patched

under feet
to the opposite bank

Wieslaw Musialowski 3/7/2003
Friends, I am asking for your understanding, because all my translations must be proofread and corrected. Poems are hard to translate (even in free verse translations). Regards.
~
There I was, at the edge of the bridge,
Begging for the water to take me away.
To somewhere far from this cruel world,
Where there's only tomorrow, no today.

I fell deeper and deeper into the abyss,
There was nothing I could do or say.
But now I have arrived anywhere else.
I'm not sure if it's better, but I'll stay.
~
Orion Sep 11
There is a self-assurance when driving alone in a car,
A broken leather bag tossed in the passenger seat, sunset at his back,
Sweat pooling under his shirt at the valley below his chest;
Earbuds pressed as far as they’ll go in
Blocking out violent winds as he goes over a perfectly photographed bridge
Fog rolling in over waves and through the painted orange beams of streetlights

He is living in someone else’s fantasy:
dressed to the nines,
the eights,
the sevens
Counting down shirt buttons to the way his belt sits a little too loose around his hips,
Black undershirt and unauthorized jeans smelling like stale convenience-store coffee
And strange sanitized emotions that unkempt grocery stores bring to mind--
He is beaming and
Expressing the love he has for this moment in the purest way he knows how.

He doesn’t believe that it is a singularity, an expression of a single thing
A tangle of words that knot into something unnervingly detached from
What he knows how to wrap someone else in with trained fingers
Under the guise of practice
Love is something he has found is undefined

He is not sure he believes in a staying love.
It comes and goes as it pleases in the moment,
It is the word he leaves reserved for the way yellow makes him feel;
How he felt when he saw green as green as green could be through rose-tinted glasses;
The steam rising from named coffee mugs, light streaming through windows;
It is the word he felt when he fell asleep entangled in someone else’s arms and legs
Socks kicked off at the ankles,
And in the sudden realization that he wanted soup;
In seeing painted purple pauses in thought scattered across his chest and shoulders;
In moth wings and bee stings, in smiles and kissing curiosity

It is an emotion he can’t take ownership of
Rather, it is something that dunks him into a washing machine and
Cleans him of the exhaustion that sinks into the minds of men who don’t cry
Honey-colored bubbles rising from bent fingers and wide eyes
Like jellyfish that don’t know any better than to pop when they reach the surface
Of water below a perfectly photographed bridge.
Sincerely
If somebody asks
What do you see in me?

Tell them
I just don't see
How you look like
Where you belong
What your name is

I see
The calming vibes
The healing waves
The soothing echoes
I see myself in you
I see all the colors
I see everything
What you could
Turn out to be

Everything
That is essential
Essential for life
I see you
As the reason
Why to believe in time

I see you
As blessing
And I want
To get blessed
Too

Tell them
I have yet
More to say

My dear
Genre: Observational
Theme: Unveiled Vibes
TheIdleOwl Sep 3
49
I saw you on the wooden bridge,
Staring at the sky,
The small fish below jumping in and out,
As if your tears had made them fly,

I walked a little closer,
Heard the birds up in the trees,
What worries do you have I thought,
Your lives are such a breeze,

I'm sorry for all the pain I've caused,
I'd like to rebuild what I've destroyed,

I stopped suddenly,
Worried I was close enough to be heard,
I wasn't ready to talk about it,
My thoughts were still with the birds,

I'll come back in a week or so,
I hope that you'll be here.
Perhaps I'll be ready to say these things,
To finally make it clear,

I'm sorry for all the pain I've caused,
I'd like to rebuild what I've destroyed,

A fair while later,
I finally built up the courage to speak,
I walked up to the bridge again,
Same time, same day of the week,

But stood there was a different person,
I was sure it wasn't you,
She threw bread in for the ducks,
She had bright red shoes,

I'm sorry for all the pain I've caused,
I'd like to rebuild what I've destroyed
Butterfly Aug 13
Standing on the edge of the bridge.
Breathe, just for the last time.
And jump for the last time.
I'm so not okay. I can't stop crying, lol
Greg Jones Jul 29
I see that troubled water,
I just cannot be bothered.
I know it looks bad, I know that it looks bad.
Looking for greener times,
Clearing my foggy mind.
I get the tool bag, I’m getting my tool bag.
Distances seems like a lot.
When you’re travelling and everybody just forgot.
It’s been so long since I transitioned into this,
But they only see the old me, they reminisce.
Communication without comprehension,
Though good intentions, is just lack of info retention,
I swear.
I build them up, and they just burn them down.
Then have the audacity to ask why I’m never around.
“Oh, hey, how are you?
You look so familiar.”
School them once, school them twice,
I’m on a different curricular.
I don’t have the time to keep repeating lessons
When all they seem to give me is false confessions.
With change on my mind, the past on my nerves,
I’m building bridges to get to something that I deserve.



Sleepy,
It’s 11:30, why you come to see me?
Ain’t seen you for months, girl, now you wanna see me?
Standing on my porch now, saying “You complete me.”
With the low cut tank top, thinking than intrigues me.
Bite your bottom lip, ooh, you thought this would be easy.
Thought that I’d forget just how bad you treat me?
I know all your tricks, yeah, that ****’s beneath me.
You used to be a playlist that I could put on repeat.
All your cute words, they’re just trying to deceive me.
But that bridge is gone now, why don’t you believe me?
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