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Maria Jul 2
Go
Go alone
Go scared
Go overwhelmed
Just go.

Now is the right time.
You're thinking about doing it.
So go.

Do not talk yourself out of it.
Recall all the changes you've ever made:

Trick question - you cannot -

There’s immeasurably many
Just know that almost all have been uncomfortable.

It’s better to live with the regret of doing
Rather than having not.
Train yourself to try

You cannot circumvent the discomfort
You can welcome and embrace the growth.
Malia Mar 31
I think I actually
Hate this feeling.
You’re not supposed to
Make me nervous.
You’re not supposed to
Plant seeds in my mind,
Strange seeds that grow strange fruit.
Or, at least you didn’t used to.

I don’t know why I bother at all.

I never did say
That it was a good idea
Did I?
Zywa Jan 14
Farewell: we don't eat,

it just seems that way, as you --


also see in plays.
Novel "Een Fries huilt niet" ("A Frisian does not cry", 1980, Gerrit Krol), chapter 4.1

Collection "After the festivities"
Zywa Dec 2023
When we say goodbye,

my waving hand trembles, but --


father doesn't notice.
Poem "Terminal Resemblance" (1990, Louise Glück)

Collection "Em Brace"
caught off guard
by yet another downpour
unprepared again
he could shelter
from the torrent
tormenting
and tempestuous
beneath the hung branches
of this laden tree
overreaching
beyond its means
but he knows
it cannot keep him dry
for as long as
he might need
from bough to branch
to leaf and bud
down the back of his neck
through layer upon layer
soon sodden and soiled
those discomforting drips
will expose that
which he didn't want
exposed
Amelia Rose Jul 2023
Sometimes I feel defeated
by the fact that socks
can make or break my day
How the same socks
worn numerous times before
can suddenly make me feel
Too tense
Too triggered
Too trapped

Uncomfortable socks is an omen
of the bad things to come
if I walk out the front door
Yet when I have a bad socks day
I find the strength to continue
Safe in the knowledge
that when the day ends
I can throw them on the floor
Upon the heaps of ***** laundry
That I'm not in trouble for
Zywa Jul 2023
Everything is there,

but it gives me no idea --


what to do with it.
After the life partner's death

Poem "Geen bezwaar, ook geen geluid" ("No objection, not a sound either", 2013, Jan Baeke)

Collection "Over"
Zywa Jun 2022
There is no good ending
The sun goes down
without colouring heaven

No birds, no music
I don't even cry
just say: so, goodbye then

It sounds so easy
but I look away and wait
until it's over

When did you slip away from me?
When did we stop talking
about what we don't understand

and gradually didn't know
about each other anymore
not each other's anymore?
Album "Watertown" (1970, Jake Holmes, sung by Frank Sinatra): "Goodbye (She Quietly Says)" and "The Train"

Collection "Reaching out"
the well is dry
i cannot collect water
i cannot sustain life

the river is swollen with toxic mud
i cannot cross to the other side
i cannot escape this

the grasslands have not seen rain in many years
the smallest spark could destroy this place
and i am awash in static

i sit under a long dead tree
and try to rest
and try to remain still

for to move is to cause a cataclysm
yet to remain stagnant is to cause my own demise

the wildlife that did not flee the drought have perished
the scavengers that came to pick apart the carcasses are gone as well

only i remain
the monarch of nothing
but bones and barren earth
David Beltran Feb 2021
I found myself aboard a midnight train,
I left Salerno for Milan
listening to Her for Five Minutes,
Simon used to sing this song.
Come si chaima?
She asked as a drug's side effect,
Soft grin and all she may not have spoken French, Spanish,
nor English but music is the universal language after all.

Love in retrospect like a butterfly effect,
Sua, Cinque Minuti.
a quiet smile,
between laughter and silence
filled her face.
She came from Verona, to visit family,
I came to see the city where God met the Sea.
Lui dice, l'amore che non ti aspetti?
Her voice, a dream complete,
the universal language in tones and  beats.
Galileo of Galilei finally free,
my heart a quivering seat.

I expected to fall asleep,
but mistakes you don't regret,
an angel's voice inside your head.
errori di cui non ti sei pentito, è amore, non è vero?
She said, as rain translated words obsolete.
love is something you don't regret.
I don't know her name,
but all I need is five minutes,
to feel her voice in my imbibition,
a reminder of a midnight train precognition.
Thank you to Simon and Victor of Her, dedicated to the memory of Simon for his amazing work on his short time here. To Victor for your incredible voice on your Colors rendition, helping create a moment on a train. To Isa a beautiful reminder of experience when you venture out to seek discomfort.
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