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toleomato Nov 2018
A wonderful set of coincidences occur one after the other,
Allowing a once in a lifetime chance to cross paths
But no matter how much they deserve to meet
These two must never do so.
These individuals litter bus stops and late night trains,
They aggregate during the rain
And disperse as the crosswalk signals to cross,
They find solace in solitude,
And comfort in crowds,
And would most likely tell their life story to a stranger,
But find it difficult to confide in a friend.
They catch glimpses of others through windows as they pass by
And, when found, are always focused on something else,
They trip on escalators when rushing for the next train,
They chase buses but give up half way through,
They lament a lost umbrella,
But rarely mourn the lost opportunity
Whisked away by a bus just leaving the terminal,
Or captured perfectly, like a portrait, in storefront windows.
They read books in transit and rarely look up,
They stare longingly in space, often focusing on another person’s face without knowing,
They eagerly await text messages
And check emails frequently.
All of these people are waiting,
And in fact,
Are waiting together,
Collectively, for someone else.
Although the circumstances that had brought them all together
Were nothing short of extraordinary,
It is just a normal day.
A quick glance around confirms it,
And away they go,
On night trains that someone else had just missed by a minute.
In this sense,
Cruelty seems unusually fair,
And thus why they must never meet.
Alicia Allen Nov 2017
Every day it gets harder and harder to smile and to pretend.
You end up fighting yourself,
a pointless battle really, as you neither lose nor win.
But those nagging thoughts and tiny voices keep piecing together a tapestry of coincidence.
And soon its all too real to simply ignore it.
Now its true, a fact, a real thing.
And you either confront it or be confronted by it, because little by little and too slow to notice you'll eventually drive yourself insane.
NJN Sep 2017
The spirit of time
lies upon your cheeks
Here we are
with the sweet search for a remedy
While the lights get dimmed
It is getting so dark here

Cutting of all information
that is there to seek
because time is born in the moment
that you follow the hint
Senses whistle like the wind
After the rain has fallen
I can hear them calling

Night owls eyes sense changing skies
He is coming
you are ready within
to cry, fly alive and humanize
You got to be ready every day to begin
when the call goes out for you
There is nothing left to think
Watching you, waiting for you to get through  and deal with the zone that is all opened up to you right in front of your own two feet
If you can see.
Trust your gut feeling :)
Elise Jackson Aug 2017
it's funny how you preach, scream, riot about keeping the peace, but when it's your turn to keep the peace, you keep a grudge instead.
Kiley Beck Jan 2016
I didn't realize it that day, but maybe you did.
Maybe you saw it before I did, or maybe
      you were lying through your teeth.
     "Fake it 'til you make it," they say.
           You'd always been good at that.

Or maybe you just knew. Saw the look in my eyes,
      recognized all the signs before I even
            knew they were there.

I said I wasn't sure, but you didn't believe me.
      Didn't take no for an answer,
            but that had never been your strong suit.

"You're different," you said, and bless you for
actually believing that,
      because I never have.
      "I suppose you could say I'm not like other girls."

But with a beginning like ours, how could we not believe
the other was different?

It happened by chance, maybe a coincidence,
      serendipitous timing, I'd always believed
             everything happened for a reason.

But that's been us, I guess. A handful of
      happy accidents and coincidences, sunsets and city lights,
      dreams and adventures--
            ambition beyond measure.

It's wild to think I didn't know it then,
      but even wilder to think that maybe you did.
TrinaMisa Nguyen Nov 2015
I found it kind of sinful
Kissing you in my Sunday shirt
With our hair array and messy
Lips swollen pink

You were the bad boy I thought
I could never attain
I was the wallflower you thought
You could never talk to

We had met through a series of
Coincidences that didn’t add up
Only answer was that fate wanted it
To happen, no matter what
found this in my journal. little thing i wrote when i went to temple a while back :-)
Dreams of Sepia Oct 2015
There is no moon tonight
just the cold stars
in the unfeeling sky
yet I cling on to dreams

the gypsy caravan
I stood & gazed at
as a child
in the City museum

is still there
painted, gilded
calling for the carefree road
& in my heart

long before I met you
lived my fascination for your mysterious people
enchanters,  fortune-tellers,
some say, child & horse thieves

portrayed thus
in my Mother's Russia
- the wild people of the endless road
the people & whose fiery songs I wanted to follow-

& now, in a far off world, bewitched
by you,
I find out that your dark eyes
are that of a gypsy - Romany

& it's like fate
like D. H Lawrence
' The ****** & the Gypsy'
so why, Northener, do you not love me

like your people, I am also a wanderer
a creature of the road
a castaway with no home
than the one my heart happened to find


if you or fate somehow cast this love spell
upon me
if this was meant to be, you should love me, Gypsy
only that would make sense

take me away
let us go a-wandering
across the land, moors & hills
beautiful boy, sweet poet

do you know I once tread the winter's
frost all the night's way to town
for you, hoping to seal
my love's fate

the dark sky
above me
doesn't know how to lament
lost love

the summer of it's heart
has passed,
drunk long away
in quiet pubs

there is only this poem
poorly written -
my heart bleeding
on my sleeve
I'm not kidding, I have just found out that the object of my unrequited love has Romany roots & this has sparked another wave of frustration & longing in me.. :(.. I feel like I was fated to fall for this guy in so many ways...
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