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dierdre Apr 16
Every time you were together
Whenever your hands touch hers
I am filled with this emotion
Was it jealousy?
Because it wasn't me who you are with
Or was it envy?
Because you have someone to lean on other than me.
growingpains Apr 7
I hold on to anger.
She’s the only one who has ever defended me, 
who has promised to respect my boundaries, 
who’s taken me seriously. 
I hold on to envy. 
She has reminded me of what I wanted, 
reminded me that I was worthy,
reminded me that I, too, should be blessed. 
I hold on to sadness. 
She has helped me mourn the life I
didn’t get, 
the life that was robbed from me 
because I was born to the wrong
family set. 
Anger, envy and sadness have
validated me, 
my lived experiences 
and my grievances
 more than any lover 
or anybody in this world.
I missed writing. I've had lots of thoughts but I've been running away from them.
Admiration is the cousin of envy,
as I learned long ago in Austria.
I knew a girl from a village in the Tirol.
I don’t remember her face,
Except for the placid smile
on her berry red lips.
She was not beautiful, but pretty
in a Mägdlein sort of way,
"smelling of crushed daisies and sweat".
But her long, butter-yellow hair,
seemed to have fallen from the sun.
She wore a black, Dirndl vest
that hugged her torso, a white blouse,
and a long. striped, pink skirt.
Even her legs were beautiful,
With tiny, blonde hairs that glistened.
I wished I could be like her:
Simple-seeming, unaware, unquestioning.
I watched her stand on a rocky ledge,
On a little mound like a pedestal
That overlooked an green-blue alpine valley.
She was a poem or an imagined girl
From a fairy tale or an ad for Priumula.
She was  a goddess escaped
from the the netherworld
of dairy barns and milking cows.
I thought that she might never return
there from her lofty peak at the world..
But another girl stood beside her.
A spartan sort with round glasses
And a face like a Pug dog.
She seemed to stand guard,
In a sexless, violent way,
Threatening those who might approach.
I fantasized about pushing her off the cliff,
Just to rid us of her presence.
The altitude was spinning my thoughts,
Wondering what would happen
To this Hummel Fräulein someday.
Would she follow the other youth to Vienna,
Smoke and drink espresso in a café,
Or come back to her alpine home
And milk goats while her children played?
The next day, as if still drugged,
I strolled across the bridge to Germany
And the river path to Freilassing.
There I bought a new, blue blouse
With a heart shaped neck
And brown, corduroy slacks.
It was the best I could do then
And Dirndls were not cheap.
So I spent the summer
As an ersatz Austrian,
No longer an American with jeans.
My freedom was almost euphoric,
Including dodging classes
About Bertolt Brecht, Kurt Weill,
Die Dreigroschenoper,
Those overrated poseurs!
(Except for Mack the Knife.)
I even attended Mass at various cathedrals,
just to hear Mozart or Schubert dance
up in the arches with cherubs,
or in front of ancient, colored glass
in the gloom of medieval stone.
I accepted that The Tyrolean Girl
And her antique, sunlit style
Were as inaccessible as
Gentian and columbine, mist-shrouded
on high peaks wrapped in clouds.
I once ran to see some up close
And nearly passed out.
But knowing that, I felt their charm
Had descended from the heights
To entice us in the valleys,
With pink striped cloth, gold hair
And amethyst flowers.
They flee past us like time,
Swift as the rivers in Spring.
My Dear Poet Mar 13
Our shelter was the blue sky
till we grew a tree
It’s bough became our place away
a home for you and me
So good, we grew an orchard
we dug and planted seeds
In turmoil, tears watered roots
as we cut and grew more trees
Till our fields could not be numbered
in grief we glory in golden leaves
whilst greed sprouted envy
like **** we were deceived
Each planting left us wanting
a forest, thick, large and high
forgetting the place we first belonged
beneath black branches that hid the sky
ryn Jan 7
Streaks of oranges
and yellows.
Faint traces of violet
that meld with azure.

Swallows fly home,
with chirps
that bear no ill.

Silent breeze flowing
between the blades of grass,
tickling the leaves
into voiceless giggles.

•••

He watches on
and rests his vision,
upon the beauty of weightlessness.

His eyes see through heavy green
and brimming with envy.
Luvanna Dec 2021
Dear love,

I know it's too much to ask
But please bear with my constant insecurities
My constant what ifs
I will never feel 'enough'
But I'll try my best
I'd get competitive with your past
Forgive me
If I always feel I lose
To the ones you've loved before
For they are everything I'm not
Thank you
agatha Dec 2021
on some days water would fall down
in heavy buckets; ravaging the hungry earth
stricken— a wave of drought.
the tiny specks of life swimming along
the expanse of the universe would
scatter to have a taste of the heavens
and quench the need of being human.
some would build infrastructures
as great as  lunar craters
to catch every miniscule drop
that comes from the sky,
only to keep it in their possession,
never to see another ray of light.
those who have an abundance
seem to have a hard time giving—
hands formed into fists uncaring.
what can be gripped, cannot be taken away.
in this water, there will be power.

what do the others do then?

in a morbid sense of camaraderie,
those who have their hands open, cupped,
palms facing the heavens,
can funnel grace into the palms
of another.

maybe this is where I will believe,
despite the flashes of greed and envy,
the kingdom of a god
will always belong to the poor.
the poorest have the most to give.
Ahmad Attr Dec 2021
Do you think I didn’t see you suckling on his cheek
Hand slithering down his forearm
Shameless in a crowded room
The moist scarlet of your lips leaving his skin
Caressing his hairless chin
Such a display of salacity in the broad daylight

But somewhere in my core, I loved seeing you like that
Even with someone else
Never knew you had it in you
To kiss the skin that isn’t yours
To look deep in the eyes of someone not watching you in the mirror
Humane for the first time

But he pushed you out
And you rapidly stuck right back on his body like a magnet
Do you desire the ones that don’t desire you?

Do you think I didn’t listen you breathing into his mouth
Nocturnal lovers in the blankets
Shameless in the darkened room
Rolling over each other
With rattling of your bedstead
And claws in his hairless skin
Such a display of depravity in the silent night

But he pushes you out
He doesn’t want to be called by your name
Do you desire the ones that don’t desire you?

Will you come to me if I push you out too?
If I stretch my arms really far
So my fingers can give you a gentle push
Will you finally come to me?
Or will you get too far out of reach
But It will be fine because you see,
I also desire the ones that don’t desire me
Ahmad Attr Dec 2021
I have said things, I wish I could take back
But If it had to be one
It would be the time when I insisted
‘’You can tell me, I will comfort you’’

The things you told me,
Like rain on my fire
Blasphemy to my feelings
Like it was all for nothing
Even though I knew it was coming
But not like this
Now I hear the tales of your lovers
You gaze at the stars in the dark blue sky
As you talk about your darling’s eyes
And I stare at the pale ceiling, lying supine
Pressing the device into my ears
Trying to imagine that you’re talking about me
But you keep on pouring those words
The words I have already said to you

Now I try to fix your relationships
Your amorous hardships
You try your best to hurt me
So I can sympathize with you

Such cruel thing fate is
Cruel times to witness
I want to go back when you said
That it was none of my business
it was a bad choice to get to know you, because the more i know you the more i know that we'll never be together
Brumous Nov 2021
if you borrow the eyes
of those who envy,
you'll be surprised to see how much beauty
they can see— in every little thing.
--
Warning! Daily usage can permanently poison the sight and emotions of the user.

-Br.
___
Trust me, I've been wearing them for years :/
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