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Poetry Jun 16
When the sun rolls her eyes
A soft whisper reminds him
You’re home free once you lay inside

Barbed wires and lilac thieves
He's cloaked from head to toe
The Promised Land saws at his knees

Raising her head, she cries
Only not for stars or dreams
But to fill as though she is ten, not five

It’s the destination, not the journey they say
Preaching as though you don’t have soil to stay

Listening into the black and white picture screen
Ripples draped in red
They are not called she, he, only thing

Stripped of
Left less than animals

Tell me again why you believe this man covered in cloth
Is any less than the man who hides behind a rock
'A refugee is someone who has been forced to flee his or her country because of persecution, war or violence. A refugee has a well-founded fear of persecution for reasons of race, religion, nationality, political opinion or membership in a particular social group. Most likely, they cannot return home or are afraid to do so.'
Nathalie Mar 22
Sometimes we touch
a scar in someone
that has not yet healed
or that perhaps they
were even unaware of

Sometimes this awareness
will make them flee
without notice or
react in a way that
is unexpected or unrehearsed

We can't always predict
someone's behavior
but we can be mindful
of those times
when a gift of healing
is presented and
that even though it
may appear we are
receving the coal
end of it, the spark
was the conduit
to brighten the dark.

I can't always run,
But my hiding's not too bad.

A former boss told me
To stay longer for a work shift.
My lips said yes,
But my mind said "Hell no!"
Clocked out,
Casually stepped outside;
Upon passing the host window,
I blitzed to the car, fidgetted with my keys nervously,
And whirred the blazes out of that parking lot.

Each New Year of mine has begun with relatives
Crashing at my family house.
This 2019, I take the interstate back home
To be around the out-of-state.
It's been a long-lasting tradition
And I did what I could
To break apart from that tradition
Even just this time.

At a bar on New Year's Eve 2018,
I relaxed after having made prior reservations,
Just me,
And having moseyed away from family
For just one night.
I'd go to this bar again too:
**** dancing, stellar drinks, young blood...
**** dancing.
Didn't mean to be a Scrooge and mostly not dance,
But at least I escaped and saw new faces around me.

The escape that is never too far away
And is always open around the clock
Is my journal book.
A journal doesn't have to have continents,
Oceans or clouds
To be a world
That revolves around the author.
Natural the paper,
Preserving the pen[cil].

I'm not implying
That I escape this world,
But what a world there is
In escapism.
I know myself as an escapist; I've escaped a lot last year: jobs, choir, poetry groups, church, etc.  I tend to escape where I'm more known, whether distinguished or notorious.  I've clung to the adventure of new...and the new has me enraptured.
nishta Sep 2018
drifting apart
like two sheets of ice
my love.
isn't it lovely?
what once was mine
is now not.
is it me?
am i the problem?
am i ever going to not be
i'm drowning.
i'm drowning and i can't see the light
that once was so bright.
i'm blinded by darkness
yet my eyes are open wide.
when did i become so bitter?
so jaded?
facing problems i've never faced before
has made me weary.
she is forgetting
me, our memories, everything.
i want to flee.
from this town, from this world
from life.
isn't it lovely?
what once was mine
is now not.
i've been struggling. i've never had a friend problem where i actually want to hold on to it. but its just not working out. this growing dislike towards her just keeps growing each day. i'm not depressed though this feeling of betrayal from friends, this feeling of drifting apart from someone i once thought was dear... it's..hard. and the worst part is she doesn't care. And now i don't too.
Tanay Sengupta Aug 2018
Everything is falling apart,
It is too late to see.
No one is left to trust.

Crumbling into ashes and dust,
Lost in a meaningless sea.
Everything is falling apart.

Turn away if you must,
But it is too late flee.
No one is left to trust.

Fight for a fresh start,
If you are too blind to see.
Everything is falling apart.

Escapism is an art,
The world is too chaotic to me.
No one is left to trust.

Moisty eyes and a broken heart,
All I wish is to be free.
Everything is falling apart.
No one is left to trust.

Tanay Sengupta, Copyright © 2018.
All Rights Reserved
Just a thought that I wanted to convey via words. Hope you like it. Happy reading!
Cheyenne Jul 2018
I see the madness
Festering inside
I watch it unfolding
From where I reside
Not quite within
But not without
Just barely and torridly
Floating about

If I remain here
I'll be eaten alive
But if I flee
It'll eat me up inside
I plant an evil in my Shangri-la
he carried out a coup d'etat

He told me to leave
And I escape with glee
At that time, I'm so naive
To think he will save me

When I flee, I think I'm free
But in reality, I'm simply loose

The moment I realize,
What my evil has done
Everything had been overdue
My allies have gone
And my Shangri-la just left a name
David Abraham Apr 2018
Once upon a time,
I taught myself to rhyme.

I would hum as I tried to climb,
and though the branches beneath my feet were hard,
from the ground by them I was barred,
and their marred bark seemed to melt into a part of me.

I taught myself to rhyme
when I lay awake at night,
and wished I could take flight.
04 20 2018

childhood home's tree & learning to rhyme
Mary-Eliz Apr 2018
rainbows and rain
smudged windows on trains
singing and playing
dancing and swaying

forests, woodlands green and lush
passionate scenes that can make one blush

sighing and moaning
forgiving, atoning
heartbreak and sadness
sweetness and gladness

musical notes falling like leaves
swirling round and round autumn trees

seasons and changes
and wide-open ranges
smiles and laughter
the here and the after

skies cloudy, skies clear
tiny sailboats seen from the pier

ocean breeze, crashing waves
undersea caverns and caves
flying and falling
creeping and crawling

creatures that swim in the deep
ones that awake while we sleep

dreaming and hoping
struggling and coping
sun, moon and stars
lands that are far

nightmares, ungodly fears
cold blood, hot sweat, unstoppable tears

lightning and thunder
the above and the under
soaring and hovering
healing, recovering

creeks, lakes and seas
dark prisons without any keys

chains and locks
deep rivers, smooth rocks
reality, fantasy
wanting to flee

we write it all down
we write it all here
it makes us feel better
it makes us feel freer
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