Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
Saša Milivojev Jun 2022
.
Beams of light are entering shyly
into the darkness through
dungeon bars
Carried from the bridge are resounding
Screams and chains and wailing cries
Confined prisoners the defiant
The suffering paying their price

The walls are echoing
With whispers of the final prayer
Falling down the tears of blood
Frightened by the ferrous tide
And the Infinity’s deadly voicelessness

Perished the wholesome
the innocent the hungry
Against the injustice to rebel
To their children bid farewell
For the freedom of their children
when they drew
that final breath

Drawing close the final moments, my life
May you never forget
That moment of horrid death
The innocent could not object

The prison drowned
in tempestuous sea
Immersed the dungeons
in sharp water entirely
To pieces scattered victims hearts
Bodies and souls torn apart
With a screaming cry
Heavens let out a painful sigh


Saša Milivojev in Venice
9.11.2012.

Translated by Ljubica Yentl Tinska

www.sasamilivojev.com
Hussein Dekmak Apr 2022
To fly above the white clouds,
Walk on the moon.
Dance with the stars,
Step out of your comfort zone.

To astonish the world with your creativity,
Fulfil your dreams with great accomplishments,
Stay productive, stand out among the crowds,
Break through the chains of your comfort zone.

Your pains, sorrows, and wounds my friend are
Your bridge to a breathtaking life, 
Full of hope, adventures, and excitement,
With a new dawn, and a new day!

Hussein Dekmak
Robert Ronnow Oct 2021
From marble and granite to steel and glass,
we were discussing Rhina Espaillat’s On the Avenue in class,
was it 1950s or 1980s NYC and were the fifties
the city’s halcyon days or is it now, the 2020s,
the boroughs teeming with immigrants
from the round earth’s imagined corners,
Hasidim and Muslim, Haitian and Russian, as we
Italians and Irish in an earlier era were. Everything will
be ok or not, the recombinations which make
prediction and intuition fortunately hopeless
and each individual an experiment gone well or wrong.
On the avenue God speaks by spewing
toy and clothing stores, breakdancers and ice skaters,
the Brooklyn Navy Yard seen from the Brooklyn Bridge,
the skyline admired when my car broke down on the Triborough Bridge.
The numbers of us overwhelm, there exist powers
overwhelming for the human body and mind.
I don’t mind but I can’t make sense of it.
Gandhi said What you do may not seem important
but it is very important that you do it. By that what is meant?
Linda said Why does God always have to be a man?
I said He could be a she but She’s probably really
a Tyrannosaurus rex. I like to be in America!
—Espaillat, Rhina, “On the Avenue”, Playing at Stillness, Truman State University Press, 2005.
—Donne, John, “At the round earth’s imagined corners”.
Zywa Sep 2019
Bridges are no riches
anymore, they don't offer space
but rush

over my head, they separate
people and confine them
to an island without energy

a void that exhausts me
and that I cannot fill
with the contacts I make

over all the bridges
with which I make shift
for lack of time

to go out the door
and explore my island
a while without agenda

having casual conversations
and meet neighbours
who I can touch
Collection “Different times”
King tree of life hello
I'm full of dew
dripping willow me for you
Two virtual
emperors, like you
write deep sensual ink.
Striking similarities to yours;
one is owned by his wife
I ignite a phantom fate spark.
Another is one way street.
Yes I am born a self existing
yellow star, a curse a blessing.
Portal to heaven by birth chart.
But you were bridge, something
in the way you brew my wine.
Fiery red gold key my six-nine.
Then silence, gap, abyss.
Into your own ginny you are!
No longer into mine!
Your ginny of
yesterday.
~~~~~~~~~~
Me and Mrs Andrews-k
https://youtu.be/HV4Jd3muGs8
Wilkes Arnold Aug 2021
Every metaphor is a bridge
Connecting what's real to what's true
And only in crossing does one see
Both sides dyed the same hue
Metaphors are like similes only I don't like them as much.
Lucas K Aug 2021
Away, far away, and further still.
Beyond rumble and tremble and thrill,
where spies out of shadows hold no sway,
there lies a chamber of stone, with no bars, nor locks or divides.
Every evening,
my weary eyes rest upon the memory of time and its ever shifting, ever stalwart tides.
That is where my heart abides.

My heart resides just below the rusty rail.
Over a watchful window, a silky veil of green sunlight falls like a curtain of fleeting dreams and a blooming hazel tree beneath the frail mist conceals a passageway to emerald fields.
Each morning,
I am drawn nearer and nearer to you, for that is how my mind endures.
That is why my heart never yields.
Sn8 Aug 2021
I'm by the window on the 5th floor
the view can only be described
as average
the clouds were in my head before
now they glide above the
hard stone bridge
observed from the window floor
alongside a placebo pill
and a bevarage.
Waiting for you
Simon Apr 2021
Once a bridge was nothing more than an abstract tool for reasoning. But one day, this very abstract tool for reasoning became the literal direct opposing opposite to this very operation.
(The operation that was meant to be disposed of from the very get-go!)
But something stopped that from becoming a seamless reality...
After all, seamless is nothing more than predictable tension in the right places that don't normally fit into the very crowd of normalities itself.
But the universe is connected by such truths that don't normally (either), point its own self in the right direction full of directionless odds that don't poke and **** your very potential progression forward...if it wasn't truly for the very bridge that again, (as an abstract took for reasoning), points these very directionless odds into a newer meaning than ever before. Hence, an abstract tool (obviously) when dealing with such tension involving the universal boundaries and conditions and features and traits and meanings and properties that surround itself among many other things in its general surroundings that bear itself too much for an actual correct dose of conquest to deal with all at one single time.
Basically, because if that was the actual case (all at one single time...) Then it'd be a non-localized protocol that would pave the way for ALL such manufacturing projects in one single action!
(And non-localized making such advances in the very field of study, for the very meaning that happens all at once, not within the same boundaries from one another, length and size wise.)
Seeing as how big the universe really is, with still too this very date is filled with such EXTREME (unknown sizes and expectations of it, regardless of its own such limits regulated by the very anticipated push for discovery itself). There wouldn't even be a certain timeframe for things to have its own say (in for how ever long they want to take). Instead, you have something happening all at one time, where everything is truly about one thing, and one thing, ONLY...
Nothing is about progression (or even the very process of actually getting it done) when it's all about the bridge that reasons out the very different areas and points of many likelihoods that don't limit its own variety to its own protocols...when their own hunger is trying to go about achieving one's own aim, or goal of precipitation...
When it's entirely longer than the standing idea...that nothing is without flawless results, if and ONLY if...you make it or break its very abstract tool for reasoning itself!
If and only if you do, then you’re looking at yourself as nothing more than the very truthful meaning for "treason."
Once you commit treason... You’re also breaking the connection with the bridge who's meant to connect everything in one single action for conquest. (And not the misguided mindset for simply achieving a consequence full of such disorder.)
If that were the actual case, then everything isn't as connected as one would previously think.
Especially when your very abstract tool for reasoning is the very reasoning for shame in the face of such irrational thinking.
Hence, when different mixtures of fate and probability confront the very limitations (upon their own such instances full to brim of primal instances and events...)
That's when the bridge that is meant to connect an entire universe together.
Becomes the greatest story ever told about a bridge who also...became the abstract tool for reasoning.
A bridge is a tool for building the different gaps in both space and time. However, that doesn't take the very such elongated gaps into account, when dealing with the rough exteriors of just how long they really are...until you limit yourself to the very surroundings of how a real universal bridge connects an entire universe together before your very eyes could limit itself too such incomprehensible facts.
SophiaAtlas Mar 2021
Some people: That's vandalism!
Other people: That's art!
Me: How the hell did they get up there?
Next page