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wes parham May 13
You worked with words wrapped tightly round,
This secret life of thought.
You sorely want to win, by hand,
Each battle that was brought.
But how can someone understand,
What every stranger knows?
You placed a bleak reminder  note,
where your integrity goes.

You put it off and tried to smile,
But waiting made it hard to live.
You'd seek for her forgiveness but,
There’s hardly any
                                  left to give.

Come back to life, my dearest friend,
You’ve had more than enough.
That inner voice, with strength to lend,
Is  your best ally when things get rough.
What life, the life of the mind?  Nice place to visit, but  wouldn't recommend living there.

   That’s what I originally wrote on the first draft of this.
It is an _old piece. It was born out of a dissatisfaction with written forms of personal expression.  They always seemed to lack something and just became “bleak reminders “ instead of the mighty statements you imagine them to be.  
   The middle part imagines that there is someone the speaker ought to reconcile with but lacks the will to believe that it would be worth it.  I wanted to imply that they’ve used their last favor or given up hope.    
   The final stanza came much later and serves as a reminder to listen to that inner voice, be your own ally even when you’re feeling doubt and defeat.  
Here, I shrug, trust the muse, and hit “save” before I change my mind.
a gentle patter of rain
tapping politely
at the window
not tempestuously
but imposing enough
in its constancy
a passive aggressive reminder
from the heavens
of our ultimate
lack of control
such a minor obstacle
and yet it tips
the scales of
what was planned
or hoped for
to something perhaps
not yet considered
i thought i had
no intention of
leaving the house
but find myself
rolling my eyes
with huff and sigh
cursing the grey
for ruining
that potential

by lunchtime
windscreens glisten with
newly welcomed sunlight
reflected blindingly
from droplets that linger
despite the fresh warmth
carried in the convective air
it no longer appears
to be "coat weather"
though the ground
is still puddled
to squelch or
splash underfoot
perhaps i could venture
outside after all
with a motivation
fuelled by this
latest change
but for all the blue
stretching the sky
there is still that
darkened mass of cloud
hanging heavy in the distance
unable to tell if it has
been weathered already
or is another downpour
yet to come
Kamal Apr 13
A summer breeze whispered in my ears
Of love, fame
And other grand things
Tempt me with
Sunset rays
Of a far away place

Wrapped myself in daydreams
Grew wings on faith
Picked up the pace
Forgot my place
And chased elusive ways
Of love and fame
And other sad mistakes
Chasing your embrace
Ursula Wolf Mar 25
I feel like there’s something in my heart.
Not you, not a feeling,
Rather a misunderstanding.
It raises when I take a breath,
But it never leaves with my words,
Rather it clings and screams.  
It wants my attention.
Care and appreciation,
But it only gives humiliation.
Like You did.
All my cells, my muscles and bones
My beautiful heart, brain and organs,
They learnt to behave to Those words.
Awful and cruel words.
My body still thinks I deserved them,
This clingy misunderstanding.
There are words that can hurt and traumatise our body more than you think and those words could stick with you forever. After some time your body reacts even without thinking. Be kind to yourself and don’t let those words win you over!
it turns out
Mother Nature is
just as indecisive
as the rest of us
it seemed that
she had finished
with her winter
her day-long frosts
and biting winds
no longer the need
to cocoon oneself
in protective layers
when venturing out
for nothing more than
a bottle of milk
of down-stuffed coats
and twice-wrapped scarves
woollen hats
and thermal socks

it felt like
we had moved on
our spring had arrived
just in time
we could enjoy
the brisk early mornings
despite their chill
safe in the knowledge
that the gentle touch
of afternoon warmth
would shortly follow
the biggest setback
to be expected
was an intermittent
morning-to-evening downpour
dampening our anticipation
though only temporarily
of any plans we had made
until the puddles were dry
or had drained away

it may have been
a false start
but i'm loathe to say
we were tricked
or call it
an outright lie
those brightened days
were a welcome change
enjoyed by all
we were simply
carried away by
the primaveral allusions
lulling us enough
to forget the cold
and its significance
catching us unprepared
and exposed
like those delicate flowers
so recently bloomed
buried for now
beneath this weight
of snow
I feel so far removed from the carefree days of my youth
From when the wind brushed my face
I could smile without feeling an ache inside
Now our souls have become dark
My aura is charcoal
Clear waters have become blood stained
My disappointment runs deeper than a bottomless pit
And I still don't have the answers
sean achilleos
Nigdaw Oct 2022
like next to me
emotionally touching
I love you
like a door
slammed on an argument
a last word
finishing a relationship
ending a meeting
how funny the English language
so much room for misinterpretation
so much scope for joy
or crashing
Sars'n mangoes Oct 2022
Dreams rarely die.
They just get soggy and
someone must throw them
wordle 9/27
we heard them
talking about
a meteor shower
later that night
highly anticipated
set to accompany
the rust red
that we caught
following us

lay down
upon blankets
a meagre effort
to provide
at least
a little comfort
while we witnessed
astral magnificence
the significance
of which
none of us
was certain
childishly imagining
a spectacle
from the dazzling
of shooting stars
trailing tails
like fireworks
in wonder
appearing briefly
burning out

we found ourselves
staring up
at one of those
of white
drifting across
the stratosphere
it could be
a meteor
maybe just
an aeroplane
or simply
a twinkling
trick of
the light
yet still
we watched
without excitement
without direction
without relevance
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