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Nylee 1h
It has started
and the end
is closely following
breathe in
and dive in
the finish line
is done
all that we become
it slowly dawns
the dust will settle
as it ceases.
Quixotic May 12
There lies the abandoned park bench
We sat there a year ago

Now stained with infinite dust, rain
Pouring torrents of strange anger and

Pulsing sorrow- a heaving chest
Rising and falling , tide like crest

Certain gravity to the fall, to the fallen
(pun unintended)
Unceasing in releasing;

Dusk, dawn
Fall , rise
Black, white

Just universal polarity like
The one between you and me.

A hand to hold, a smile to crave,
A heart to feel, a love to cherish;

All now lies washed down
Dust in the rain
Solitary drops now remain.
An old feeling crept up on me.
I don't want to be remembered
When I turn into ash and dust
I want to be remembered
When my bones are still alive
So that when the embers
Of life die out,
I'll be able to enter
Death peacefully
Knowing that I am a member,
An impact, in humanity.
LRF Apr 30
Is it that
I thought butterflies
wouldn’t survive
in ***** places
dim lighting
dulling their shimmering oranges
and pearl luminescence,
their fine detail
swallowed up -
lost -
in the blurs of greys,
smudges of black,
only a speckled thorax
painted in the colours of the dirge
that dissolve
its brilliant wings
into dust.
April, 2020.
Clumsy Poet Apr 29
I have loved so much,
Yet forgotten to dust,
Let not these tears,
Burden you too much,
Treat me cold,
Till all is forgiven,
Take my soul,
as I drift to heaven,
I love the world as it loves me
Autumn Fyre Apr 21
What is this mood, this feeling that I can't find a single word to describe?
I only know it as the feeling of a summer's eve,
But not just any lazy afternoon;
It's the one where the dusk has just set in,
And some whining fly needs swatted away every once and awhile;
And children come riding home on their bikes from the river with a tackle box and sometimes - just sometimes - a fish,
Upsetting the dog confined behind a white picket fence;
And clinking of dishes and strains of laughter creep along with the yellow light out through the screen door and across the grass,
To where the men sit around a crackling fire in dingy lawn chairs,
Joking and talking and sharing the love of mankind over beers.
But perhaps it isn't just the light, but also a ***** child
Who thought his father's lap would save him from his mother and a bath.
After scrubbing off the layers of bug-spray and a day spent in play,
To climb a wonderfully weary body into cool sheets,
And to fall asleep to the sound of an oscillating fan and the peeping frogs and the feel of a mother's kiss and the slow rotating of the stars --
That is the most wonderful feeling in the world.
Memory for most people means images, but our senses of smell, taste, sound, and touch are actually are strongest memories. We tend to associate certain feelings or people with these senses, so it's so hard to capture the feeling of summer in a single word; for every person it means a different thing.
Maja Apr 6
Save me if you must.
Love me if you dare.
Turn me into dust.
Leave me if you care.
A short poem about something.
What is still not certain. But then again, is anything?
The shadow of your smile lies in the gaze of your eyes.
It lingers deep within my thoughts, and travels further to the deepest parts of my heart, which leads to its roots growing further throughout my soul.

When I attempt to embark a new journey with another, its your presence I begin to endure.
When they carress me, it's your touch that I feel trickling down my skin to the very smallest and last atom of my body.
Whenever another places their lips on mine, it's your soft, passionate, ecstatic kisses I still taste.
When he places his body on mine, kissing me... caressing me... whispering sweet nothings into the broken windows of my heart, it's you I seem to make love to.

It's you I see.
Gravitating me closer to you, inflicting your heavenly, passion and desire-filled gaze upon me through the windows of my soul...
It's you I see... our lips being weaved together as it triggers fountains from inside me whilst your rough, exotic hands are wrapped onto my neck like a golden jewellery piece.
Every inch of my body seems to ache with the slightest thought of you.
It's your vibrant melodies my body still dances to... in my dreams... when I'm with another...
The ghost of you seems to vividly pierce through my thoughts like acid rain.

Our love had been like a sandstorm... a powerful hypnosis.

The melody of your flute will forever be my favourite song.
I carry around the nostalgic fragments of you like the calcium in my bones.

Though they have now turned to dust, the palace we've created from the love we shared will timelessly remain
my favourite memoir of you.
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