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Ahmad Attr Feb 26
Reaching my hands so hard
that my fingers bent
Counting days till happiness
And my finger lines are erased
I finally grasp a fading light
It’s a memory of olden times
Swinging in the blue rusted swing
In school’s playground, waiting
For my parents to pick me up
So I’ll show them my bruises
And they’ll cheer me up with the boxes of juices

But it’s not enough so I reach out again
I grasp a fading light
It’s a memory of happy times
Dancing in the monsoon rain
With my brothers in the flooding streets
With overflowing drains
And coming home to slip under the warm blanket
And pray for the rain to continue
But the school was never skipped, the sky always turned blue

However it’s not enough so I must reach out again
to grasp a fading light
It’s a memory of good ol’ times
Standing beneath the shady tree, cursing out names
Me with my rather competitive friends
Throwing jabs and insults but taking it in all fun and games
And the cruel school times diluted by the spirit
Of carelessness, nonchalance and adolescence
When the handholds of hours were actually for a minute

But why isn’t in enough, I can’t reach out anymore
My feet are twisted, my arms are broken,
I can’t do this no more
But I run, one step turned into a hundred
Breezing through all these fading lights
To find the one, the dearest to mine

Is it my mother kissing my forehead?
Is it the whisper that made a poet?
Or the family trips with my brothers and cousins?
Or the foolishness with friends without repercussions?
No they’re not them, not the movies nor my video games
I run, I run, I run but it’s all the same
I can’t find the one
Not the stories I created in my wandering head
Not the pleasures of life, nothing lies ahead

It’s not enough, I can’t reach out anymore
No amount of those fading lights
Can return back the fading lights in my eyes
As I lay bleeding in the middle of a road
I can’t reach out anymore
I can’t reach out anymore
I can’t anymore
.......i can't anymore
kelly jane Feb 3
I recall those days
I ran after the walking moon
Dreamt to be carried on the wings of a fairy
Gazing at every little thing with amazement
Admiring the wind's beautiful melody
Filled with curiosity and expectations
Fearlessly danced through the rain
With just one thought in mind
Being happy was my only goal
But as time goes by
The ageing crystal rain melts away
alongside my cherished childhood
My love is complex
A part of it's real
A part of it's imaginary
When we are together
Walk hand in hand
In a boulevard
Hide behind a tree
Lock our lips
See deep in the eyes
Butterflies in the heart
It's the real part of my love
When we are separate apart
In our homes
Across the street
Neither WhatsApp
Nor tweet
Lying in bed
Can't sleep
An iota of memory
Of real part of my love
Gives sweet pain
In my heart
Clasping pillow in my arms
Roll to and fro in my bed
Kiss and cuddle her
In my imagination
It's the imaginary part of my love
My love is complex
Real plus iota real!
Drawn on analogy of complex numbers, x+iy, where x and y real numbers, i the iota denoting imaginary part.
Eola Dec 2020
Time runs like the sand through hands
This frail creature's fate is nearing it's end
I'm selfish to be the first to go
But happy to be sent off by a lifelong friend

I might never see you again
But your love was precious like wind
So wild yet calming
Not worthy of a mere symbol like ring

Take this hand and never forget me
Cry as much as you can
Then finally release it from your heart
And build a monument in your mind

My last breath will be spent on your name
And this is a promise that I'm not afraid to say

Whenever I
looked into
her eyes I
everythang I
ever desire.

In her words
I find hope,
word so
could Softly
make lions
eat grasses.
I sought
wife and I
have finally
myself life.

Her love is
my whole
I can't deny
what she
make me
It's true love
I'm seeing.

Her pretty
smiles gives
me courage
and her
brighten up
my faith.

When she
miracle tend
to happen.

She's so
charming alluring
skinned  her
presence could
make one
spend a
lifetime with
her without
home neither


her figure
curvy hips
that makes
me always
desired her.

She's truly
a pride
to the
She's my
woman of
life my

Betty Dec 2020
Ever changing memory flowers
grow on the sunny windowsill in your head
they bloom and fade in their imaginary ***
seeding the world with stories
Christian Simon Nov 2020
The controller in my hand.
The power of life and death
In my fingers.
An imaginary world:
Somehow more brutal than this;
Somehow more entrancing than this.
Somehow, somehow.
A minute gone,
An hour,
A day.
A lifetime
Or enjoyed?

Virtual friends
Living virtual lives.
Scared to open the shutters,
Scared of the sunlight.
Smoke hangs in the air;
A nourishing vapour.
(Despite best efforts)
Reality becomes a backseat driver
Lurking in the background
Impossible to ignore.
Norman Crane Oct 2020
We've sailed cerulean seas to pastel shores,
Known only to the glorious few,
We have disembarked, ready to explore,
As our lone ship waits slumbering in view
of the glorious bay. Light paints daybreak
across the sky. We see the rising sun
through imagined jungle—and hesitate:
The image lingers, but it must be done,
Eyes close. Toward the interior we turn
remembering, and hoping to return.
Marisela Veludo Oct 2020
Your scent on my pillow
Your whispers -  imaginary
Lips so soft as a marshmallow
Your touch -  legendary

Your reflection next to mine
Clear waters, breeze and chimes
All felt great, all was fine
You were my angel, you were mine
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