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in the vast majority of galaxies,
and written down histories
I think it's beautiful we exist in the same era;
weaving tales of friendship, love and ephemera.

IA ☕
Sharon Talbot May 16
Stick my phone into the wall--
hoping no one trips on the cord.
No mobile phones in this dark age
and computers haven't come of age.
My TV has cable but the picture's curved.
Static makes it look so old
and my frozen dinner's gotten cold!
I shut it off and think: at least
I've got a huge stereo
with a dual tape deck.
Listening to New Wave
is much better than televised dreck.
Maybe someday they'll make it digital
but it won't be quite the same.
I'm as happy as a person can reasonably be
in the year 1983.
A kind of fond, snarky memory of times past...
Melody Mar 17
Yesterday's forgotten lament
saunters in with the storm, a
grand entrance assuming greatness

Laissez les bons temps rouler!
still echoes faintly
from these vaulted ceilings
as Ms. Kane's lilting voice keeps
in step with the jazz ensemble's
whimsical improvisation
encapsulating the hope of an era
that taunts us a century later

A memory of stolen kisses,
darting through the Chateau Marmont's
elegant parlors - quiet witnesses
to innocence relinquished
(parlayed into sophistication, some claim)
while all around, the spirits of
old Hollywood ingénues still hide
themselves within the glamour of it all

having forgotten that they
had once come to this place to fall apart;
unwilling (and unable) to give up the ghost
they cling to the ethereal realm
glide past unfazed, faceless
cradling their delicate-stemmed
glasses of dubonnet as
the waltz prevails
Today has risen,
A new era and decision,
What will fate give me?
Diána Bósa Dec 2019
We live in an era
when you confess to someone
that he is the one,
he will just stare blankly at you
and say: Oh, I see.
Well, there are many Ones.
annh Sep 2019
They spoke to me of evenfall and dayspring, the solstice and the equinox. They sang of eras, epochs, and eons. On indigo nights, they whispered in the owl light of alchemy and enchantment, wreathing my cot with an iridescence which illuminated my dreams and begentled my slumber.

At Hallowtide, they scribed lyrical pathways in the air and sculpted rainbow arcs. They celebrated the vernal majesty of April and October's autumnal reprise with moonglade pageantry and sunset flourishes. They conjured blackberry winters and gypsy summers, and laughed at my amazement, as if to say: ‘Told you so!’

As the years departed my second decade and encroached alarmingly upon my third, I began to question why they had chosen me; why we walked together apart and apart together. I wondered where the magic ended and I began, and I realised with the bone-breaking chill of the unwelcome inevitable, just how lost I would be without it.

‘Magic exists. Who can doubt it, when there are rainbows and wildflowers, the music of the wind and the silence of the stars?’
- Nora Roberts
Neo Aug 2019
We as people get so easily caught up with endings. We look willingly to the future either merrily or in contempt in order to predict what will be the end. We do it in relationships, our careers, hobbies. When bad things come to an end  it’s hard to move on, but the glimmer of hope is what drives man’s spirit. When good things come to an end, it’s even harder to move on. This is because hope has been diminished. Endings are often sought as negatives. They invoke negative feelings and are thus viewed cynically.  We dabble so much with endings either past or present, we simply forget how to live in the now.

Endings are perfectly okay and necessary in this universe. Nothing is set in stone. The ending of something does not have to mean the absence of all. What is the end of a relationship is not the end of the world. It is not the upheaval of your life. It is the end of an era. A moment suspended in time by its lush awe and beauty. An era, and a moment, are the same. So it is required of us, in order to live easier lives, to live in these moments, and learn to let those moments pass.

Life is so easy to get caught up in. we become so engulfed in prolonged eras to the point that we don't see them anymore. The moment, in its prolonged existence simply becomes what we recognize as our lives. And when it gets ripped away…? All hell breaks loose. This is because we feel we’ve lost control of our lives, like every piece is slipping away without us realizing that it was never our lives to begin with. We can simply be an observer of the events that move and occur around us. Our personal perceptions and emotions towards these things have none, if little lasting effect on the outside world. So why fret? We should simply observe, from an outside perspective, the content, and value of our lives. That, in the end, brings peace.

Because when we remove ourselves from the equation, we reach an equilibrium with the universe. The perception of self within that world skewers and distorts what we miss and take for granted.
Remarks by me
Allesha Eman Jan 2019
Somewhere along a shallow coastline, stood my sandy feet listening to wind chimes

I’d stare the ruthless wind right in the face
As it takes the shape of water and drifts away

Over the distance of a sea of blue, waves would howl at the moon for you

The sun still sets with a thousand colours, an artists sky made of wonders

The rain still falls with the beat of a drum, and every drop is my heart calling for one

The grasses sway with the dancing wind, to music written on the cracks of your skin

Summer comes wandering in, in the shape of a nomad searching for bliss

I watch the changes of your time, singing songs and embracing the climb
Stephanie Oct 2018
But what happened
I repeat
to the feeling of
that eats at me now

In this little foreign town I sit
by accident
across from a hotel
where we once stayed

And my heart strings
strike a chord
with unbearable tension

It was so good
wasn't it?
And then I remember
I couldn't be your lover
I was only part way there
most of the time

I fantasized
about not being yours
the freedoms of aloneness
a breath without your scent

How many years I spent
to have what sits before me
These broken strings
This broken heart
The greatest broken promise

I recall a moment
when the woman
with the great jazz voice
asked me
if I loved him
and I couldn't answer
Even though I know
in some fractured universe
an unshaking love

How many nights
I was tortured
with the shame of knowing
that the love you needed most
was conditional

And for how many years
you sat
in suffocating silence
knowing that to be true
and sacrificing your soul
that it wouldn't be so

In my attempt to shield you
from the pain
I harmed you beyond belief
And now we are
with no other choice
but to say goodbye
to the life we had together

In the end
I guess
I just miss my friend
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