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Tom Waiting Jun 2020
decided why waiting, my name, my curse, my retrocognition,
last week, was sore-spent, from abusing discontinuation, retribution,
lovers who took more, too much, left contentedly, not looking back
over their shoulder, at the wasted wake left behind, nothing to them

just was their “been here, now, just a hereafter” remainder reminder

can’t believe I’m writing, in these blues lyrics electrified,
my ribs, plucked like guitar strings for “pic”ing demand wailing,
my own hereafter starts now, past days eradicated, freshened up,
these aren’t the days of reminiscing, these are the days of  no más!

of my hereafter, now I understand, did not know how, clarity arrived

but now will love only in equality, no worshiping, no portraits
to be admired  hanging on hallway walls, got rollers and pan,
repainting walls crazy whites, starting again, coming out today,
the hiding separated, put in trash bags on the street, for takeaway

in crazy notions, commencing my hereafter, is inviting you,
join me, improve my cadence, my rhymes, finish my sentences,
with periods of laughter, commas of words of perfect additions,
waiting no more, from here after and ever more so, my name

hereafter, is now my retrofitted futures, no longer waiting...
I loved you at your darkest
You only loved me at my brightest
Your silent tears were an illusion
As you devoured me until depletion
A thousand curses on the hands which broke me
And a thousand curses on the ones which you see
You will never forsake me again.

Bha gaol agam ort aig an àm as dorcha
Cha robh gaol agad orm ach aig an ìre as soilleire
B 'e manadh a bh' anns an deòir sàmbach agad
Fhad 's a bha thu gam ithe gus an robh mi air falbh
Mìle mallachd air na làmhan a bhuail mi
Agus mìle mallachd air na fheadainn a chi thu
Cha trèig thu mi a-chaoidh truilleadh
Coleen Mzarriz May 2020
She was wobbling and sailing with the strokes—she was just bucking in all the dreads
and uncertainties—she was just staring and letting
the cold flood,
brush her naked feet.

The radiance that persists in her core—yet discovering that missing part;
Where is it?
Where can she meet it?
It was the same twists
that drove her alive
on the cushions
that piles around her feet—
it was meaningless
that she couldn't
wouldn't
understand—the notion of
her harsh sigh—the suffocating uncertainty that remains; that stays—circulating another form of pleasure,
in her spirit.

That is the curse at night—it drifts,
it resounds,
like a futile, annoying clock—she couldn't eradicate.
some thoughts.
Somewhatdamaged May 2020
No matter what you do
Your past will always haunt you
How hard you run
How long you hide
Past will always find you
Tear you from the inside
Present the world in the collage
Of what you really are
And in the end
All you can do
Either embrace your past
Or curse yourself
the ruthless memories that never goes away....
Connor Apr 2020
Love, is the only cures that we wish upon ourselves every single day.
Cursed with witnessing everything
Seldom love frequently disappointment
Listens to the unsaid mystery
and guide people to the world of poetry
Bears the misery of the worst of time
Sometimes drip droplet of water for healing a deep wound
It creates the world like it feels
And derive happiness through indulging itself in the dreams
It learns to cope up with face full of lie
And still people don't believe the world seen by eye.
They speak the language only few of us can hear
People either her in love or with the heartbreak.
It pays for the mistake of heart and brain.
And often drives people crazy or insane.
The demons of the person stays in them
And linger in the darkness and conceal itself
It sees everything since we came and takes the complete rest in the end.
Louise Apr 2020
Your name is like poison.
I see it, the memories come back.
I hear it, the pain comes back.
I say it the love comes back.
Your name is a curse on me.
Pyassa Lias Apr 2020
Do the heavens rule that much
I speak of our doomed love, that the stars malign
The joyous day, destined to be apart
From the ambient darkness of the night
Oh farewell, farewell I bid this ****** earth
If we’re to be, only in death
Then to your arms, I’ll race, Where I’m to die
Pax Apr 2020
i took a peek, then never again.

What's beyond that window
Lies a curse i did, a sacrifice
I took and a burden i carry.

Goodbye lullaby, as i sleep
soundly towards the end.
Promptly written while watching my window.
Harley Hucof Apr 2020
Birds, they come to my porch to talk
Except for these crows that visit me on my window in floks.

With each cycle's end the black birds come to me again
I learned to speak with crows many lives ago
We have a pact that makes them reveal to me what they know

Knowledge is a fortune
Curiousity is a heavy burden
When the cycle ends , i close my window's curtains

Restless days , restless nights
Restless thoughts inside this restless mind

My will is conscious  , my allies are aligned
Death is still , waiting silently by my side

I am ready to accept what is mine. ( Do i have a choice?)

Words Of Harfouchism
Mmmm
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