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Silverflame Dec 2017
21
i'm 21;
yet my mind is still flying away to the countryside
to dance with the lark under the meadow bridge
I hope this never change, no matter how old I get.
My birthday was 25th of December :)
Josh Nov 2017


Absorbing dust and Golden heat,
living more openly than I do,
he shimmies to Billie Holiday

The year is not 1957, though
he lives in a San Francisco fog
longing to play the piano

The time in not 11:57pm, though
he orders a ***** martini & swims
in the fishbowl bay

Escaping to Telegraph Hill
to drink moonlight jazz & vermouth
he pretends to live

Way back when

*
I haven't wrote a poem in 2 years!
b Nov 2017
It's been said that sleep is for the weak.
I disagree.
Sleep is for those who have time.
I'm far too busy
Forcing myself to swim upstream,
Trying to fix people
That don't even know
Whats wrong.

There is not enough cement to build the bridge.
Let it fall.
Go to bed.
Guden Oct 2017
I cross the same bridge everyday,
There are always the same people,
With their different purposes,
Or is it the same?

Today I saw God begging for a coin,
On the bridge.
Nobody looked at him,
I guess they were mad,
So was I.

I came to God and slapped his face,
He understood and didn't fight back,
I hit him for everything,
Like an ant that escapes from the farm,
After several minutes I remembered that I don't believe in God,
Not this guy with a beard anyway,
So I stopped and continued my way.

I returned for a last punch in the face,
Just in case.
This reminded me of my first fight with Tyler.
CallMeVenus Oct 2017
Dear Golden Gate Bridge,

    Can you give her back to me?
Split the water in two and I will be Moises
Angry and scared,
desperate and delusional
like Dolly was about Jolene

She fell in love with your edges and your deceiving depths
And you never saw right through her and thought that maybe she just wanted you to be the sloppy second for once. Rebound to a better life.

                                         Splash!

You are a ruthless lover but I'm starting to understand the fascination with that edge of yours.

                                          Breathe in. Breathe out.

Jolene, I need to be baptized in your love
And I will assure you that I can swim and you will pretend to care.

Moises will fly to a sure fall. Let him drown. He would have never made it to Noa's arc anyways.

Let me drown.
Do not expect a linear path
Nor a strictly circular one
Though you meander one foot to the next
In cyclical, somewhat predictable rhythms.
Do not expect clouds to behave,
Mountains to hold,
Or branches to grow.
Do not expect bridges to stand the test
of time that even trees cannot.
Do not expect your golden shot today
to hold your interest next go round the wheel.
Do not expect a clear and simple reward.
Rather, take what you can,
Whenever you can,
Drink it in,
Make it a part of you
For the next go round.
10.8.17
Inktober Prompt: Crooked
Rules: The poem is whatever comes out of the pen, no edits allowed.
Deep le Ning Oct 2017
Ordered bash iron G
OH Oho, Bridge
You missed you all
will but it, Ring around
a OK feet,
wear me.

We by does
and enough so before
The skin a More
SOS

Can't castaway bell inside
someone here Smacking
I my cameras a loneliness ramping,
but the mean Alright.

Pain September flashing send out loving
I'll told up two up!
on 3000.

Snorting seem makes,
in breath in Broadway yeah
got at yeah
With humble, stay One does,
has Andre Little Hey...
god magic formal deeds
she's you, aay.

Blud Snorting
Uh, your ya must just Every man,
Thought there's least
sura Jan 2017
Your shoes,
I saw them lying neatly
Side by side upon the bridge.
Laces untied; socks in a crumpled bundle inside
As if you had just stepped out of them,
As if you had just left them on somebody else's doorstep.

Gingerly, I picked them up.
In the air I let my questions hang.
At what point in your life
Did these blood-red sneakers turn almost white?
Since when did its crisp signature logo
Turn into an unreadable smudge?

Worn out and faded,
Tattered and almost unrecognizable,
I barely knew the thing I was holding in my hands…

Perhaps you were too busy running
To even notice its deteriorating condition?
Never mind the cracks on the surface,
The thinning soles already caked in mud,
As long as they take you away from the darkness
Which seems to follow you everywhere.

For the last time, these shoes have served you.
Brought you in this unlikely place, on this very bridge.
Where you left them lying neatly side by side
As you took the way out, barefoot.

Hoping someone would step into them,
Feel for answers with their own toes.
And finally understand that
There were no haunting shadows in your pursuit

Because all this time

The darkness has always been inside you.
Britney Lyn Aug 2017
If you burn our bridge, I will not waste the time or energy to build another. Goodbyes are forever.
The fire that once guided our love has now consumed and destroyed us.
Gabriel burnS Aug 2017
Your tongue speaks
The language of my lips
Fluently
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