Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
Sparkyxox Jul 2020
The howling wind gently pushed her along the dirt path,
her cloak lightly brushing against scattered pebbles,
into the forest that is known by little.
Perhaps in the hopes that no one could find her there,
nor remember her name when they do.
Most do not recognise this place.
Some who do know may say that the ones who enter are 'foolish'
She, like most, fears pain and hurt.
And thus, she enters.
There's no going back.
Foolish or not, she's made her choice.
She clenched the rims of her cloak
as she walks away, out of their lives, forever
John McCafferty Jul 2020
The invisible cloak gently floats
Brought about by fleeting thoughts
As negative ions continue to flow
Lo and behold
A weighted coat now soaked
It's heavy presence diverts growth

Complex context controlless
Slight shortness of breath
Shoulders and neck show signs of stress
Remain calm as this moment will pass

Shake to break the chains that hold
Twist then turn throughout their folds
Simplified code creates new modes
Move into motion to lighten your load
(@PoeticTetra - instagram/twitter)
Vanessa Goyal Jul 2020
I am untied
Bound not by the broken leaves
Severed from the golden dew
Released from the budding rose
Sweet song fills my bones
One that if heard by others
Melts into the silence
Ridges lie flat beneath my feet
Untouched by the desire of the heart
Or the melancholy of the mind
Snow fills the footprints
That I leave behind
Masking the ghost of the trail
Exposing the grief within
Tara Apr 2020
A smile,
such a clever trick
When I want, when I need to hide
I smile,
so I stay hidden.

No easy feat to achieve,
yet I must do so
I endanger myself when I do not hide
Open to hard eyes, inquisitive stares and plain

As I grow, I become the master,
master of hiding, hidden from all
Not even Holmes can decipher my smile
Let him try,
I am hidden.

My tears are silent, my sobs never seen,
my shouts are disguised
But my smile, my smile screams
Screams false happiness and content,
false love.

The veil of truth is my servant,
I easily command it
My lies shaping, shifting, becoming my life
Reality has gone away from me,
to hide is to lie.

I can wish the rules were different,
but my wishes are foolish and wasted
As is my love
Hidden as the rest of my life,
cloaked under my shame, my fear.

This world is cruel and unfair,
for more than just people like I
We all must be hidden
We all have a reason to hide,
so we smile.
Here we are again in the moonlight
all of us dressed in a black cloak
and no sounds are heard, not even a frog's croak.

we invoke that which slumbers in the darkness
and dance along to the tune of humanity's cries
I'm getting tired of hanging with you guys
I want to leave, but I know that's unwise.

I want to apologize to those that I love
that I care for, you guys mean so much
I know you guys judge me for how I ended up
and I know I ****** up
but *******, I love you all so much.
Created by me on November 18th, 2019
Right in the feels.. never take the friends you have for granted. cherish every moment with them.
Michael R Burch Feb 2020
Le temps a laissé son manteau ("The season has cast its coat aside")
by Charles d'Orleans (c. 1394-1465)
loose translation/interpretation/modernization by Michael R. Burch

The season has cast its coat aside
of wind and cold and rain,
to dress in embroidered light again:
bright sunlight, fit for a bride!

There isn't a bird or beast astride
that fails to sing this sweet refrain:
"The season has cast its coat aside!"

Now rivers, fountains, springs and tides
dressed in their summer best
with silver beads impressed
in a fine display now glide:
the season has cast its coat aside!

The year lays down his mantle cold
by Charles d'Orleans (c. 1394-1465)
loose translation/interpretation/modernization by Michael R. Burch

The year lays down his mantle cold
of wind, chill rain and bitter air,
and now goes clad in clothes of gold
of smiling suns and seasons fair,
while birds and beasts of wood and fold
now with each cry and song declare:
“The year lays down his mantle cold!”
All brooks, springs, rivers, seaward rolled,
now pleasant summer livery wear
with silver beads embroidered where
the world puts off its raiment old.
The year lays down his mantle cold.

Winter has cast his cloak away
by Charles d'Orleans (c. 1394-1465)
loose translation/interpretation/modernization by Michael R. Burch

Winter has cast his cloak away
of wind and cold and chilling rain
to dress in embroidered light again:
the light of day—bright, festive, gay!
Each bird and beast, without delay,
in its own tongue, sings this refrain:
“Winter has cast his cloak away!”
Brooks, fountains, rivers, streams at play,
wear, with their summer livery,
bright beads of silver jewelry.
All the Earth has a new and fresh display:
Winter has cast his cloak away!

Note: This rondeau was set to music by Debussy in his “Trois chansons de France.”

The original French rondeau:

Le temps a laissé son manteau
De vent, de froidure et de pluie,
Et s’est vêtu de broderie,
De soleil luisant, clair et beau.

Il n’y a bête, ni oiseau
Qu’en son jargon ne chante ou crie :
"Le temps a laissé son manteau."

Rivière, fontaine et ruisseau
Portent en livrée jolie,
Gouttes d’argent d’orfèvrerie,
Chacun s’habille de nouveau :
Le temps a laissé son manteau.

Charles d’Orleans (1394-1465) was a French royal born into an aristocratic family: his grandfather was Charles V of France and his uncle was Charles VI. His father, Louis I, Duke of Orleans, was a patron of poets and artists. The poet Christine de Pizan dedicated poems to his mother, Valentina Visconti. He became the Duke of Orleans at age 13 after his father was murdered by John the Fearless, Duke of Burgundy. He was captured at age 21 in the battle of Agincourt and taken to England, where he remained a prisoner for the next quarter century. While imprisoned there he learned English and wrote poetry of a high order in his second language. A master of poetic forms, he wrote primarily ballades, chansons, complaints and rondeaux. He has been called the “father of French lyric poetry” and has also been credited with writing the first Valentine’s Day poem ...

My Very Gentle Valentine
by Charles d’Orleans (c. 1394-1465)
loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch

My very gentle Valentine,
Alas, for me you were born too soon,
As I was born too late for you!
May God forgive my jailer
Who has kept me from you this entire year.
I am sick without your love, my dear,
My very gentle Valentine.

Keywords/Tags: France, French, translation, Charles, Orleans, Duke, first Valentine, rondeau, chanson, rondel, roundel, ballade, ballad, lyric, Middle English, Medieval English, rondeaus, rondeaux, rondels, roundels, ballades, ballads, chansons, royal, noble, prisoner, hostage, ransom, season, seasons, winter, cold, snow, rain, summer, light, clothes, embroidered, embroidery, birds, beasts, sing, singing, song, refrain, rivers, springs, brooks, fountains, silver, beads
Wellspring May 2019
I wonder what is to come;
what will be.
The future is inexplicable and vast;
full of possibility and promise,
devastation and destruction.

No one knows their future
mysterious and cloaked in darkness
so much of it shall come at chance;
the good
and the bad.

As I can't connect
everything with everything,
Life shall go on
And I shall stay in my state
of innocent bliss.
um. yeah. little stressed about having to figure out what I'm doing with my life at the end of this year.
Genevieveish Jul 2018
A deep breath escapes his sinking ribs,
A quiet captivating abandon
Under a crisp cool cloak,
His deep veined arm stretches over my shoulder
Wrapping my figure,
An inert force flexed under my cupped palm
Effortlessly pulling and pinning me,
His assets kept safe under silent supervision.
Next page