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Hands full of ichor
Wrap around my neck
And my eyes
And my mouth
And my nose
And my skin drenched
In gold and in silver tones.

The fissures scatter around my burned skin.

I ponder and I stare into the nothingness
The chasm that I find.
Staring back at me and all my shortcomings.
She begs
She screams
She cries
She wishes for everything
And nothing all at once.

The metal sinks into my fragile fingers.

If I break all of me and tear my limbs apart
Will I escape from my own regrets?
Finally forgiving.
My faults
My shadows
My blood
My ash covered fingers.
Itching at all my gaps and lack in judgement.

But when will I find that you have let go of my throat?
Of my eyes
My ears
My hands
My heart.

When will my ichor stop flowing?
When will my fissures be patched?
When you are here.
I am unbound.

And I know everything will cure
in its own time.
I will find that my fissures will seal
and the ichor will stop running through my veins.

One day I will feel human again.

Someday I will be me.
in an e mood
Saša Milivojev Jun 2022
(Dedicated to my friend,
Isidora Bjelica)

Tonight, I turned my eyes
Towards star-studded skies
Ever so softly God said to me
That he has gifted you with immortality
God’s envoy in lands of men
Offering a helping hand
It was you, the brave, he was to select
In what you create
Life and death to reflect
To truth once again to light our way
The Pain of the World to take away
Our dungeons to illuminate
Throughout the world, you wandered free
The world enlightened by the spirit of thee
From faces unhappy you set smiles to be free
And so, by God, you deserved to be
Gifted with immortality


Saša Milivojev

Translated by Ljubica Yentl Tinska
Jack Jun 2022
Calming blue sky soothe me down,
the beauty of creation is unmatched,
I just wanted to stay at a certain moment,


But as the clock keep ticking,
Everything comes to end sooner or later,
Which leads to unpredictable certainties,
Reaching the magnificent of withers,

Glad to be breathing to this day,
Moving forward like a marching band,
I'm going to meet my end sooner than I expected,

The end of sadness for eternal peace,
Is the one I've sought after...
Io Oct 2021
A blur that breathes, growing and abating,
tides of people, entombed in steel,
flowing and fading on riverbeds of tar.
A place of nomads,
all draped in cloth.
A place of symbols,
of concrete and rebar

Sheets of cold, ice grey
Falling spindles, cold rain
A graceful procession
With a bellyful of tears
A dreadful cortège
A heralder of fears

A young forest paved with ancient crushed stones
Nothing left but the inheritance of a thousand unknowns
Nothing left, but old fossilised bones

All that has happened is what I know
And all I know is what will happen.
All that remains is what I know
And all I know is ruin.
Àŧùl Oct 2021
They all seem to fade away,
They drift farther everyday.

One day comes and you are lonely,
Love yourself as you're yours only.

They're mortal & so is everything,
As for me, I don't know anything.
My HP Poem #1944
©Atul Kaushal
Nat Lipstadt Aug 2021
I live on a small (25 sq. mile) island, accessible only by ferry.


“For we are dear to the immortal gods,
Living here, in the sea that rolls forever,
Distant from other lands and other men”

—Homer, the Odyssey (translated by Robert Fitzgerald)

                                                    ­  <>

sea air inoculates the slowing breath-taking ferried voyager,
our landed cares felled, fall into a wake, trailing, sunk & submerged,
a ferry’s ramp contact-clangs, belling a “Here, Here!” alters our mien,
the softening airy enveloping, fragrantly, a greeting of immortal gods

no matter that we can vision-easy the neighboring isles, with
their trafficked-light busyness, the to and fro of mainland life,
bustle necessity of hustle, our riveted river moat cancels out
imposing surround sounds, our untucked flavor, floating free

wafting perfume of quiet inlet, creek and harbour, touch us safely,
alternating currents of gentle breeze, stiffer sailing winds, gusts,
bending us, these reminders, we humans too, creatures of elementals,
water, sun, forest, sand, animals, singular upon co-hosted menagerie

the brackish water, where fresh + marine waters mix, live + die,
reflecting our pooling diversity, so few of us born here, yet so many,
adopt and adapt the isle’s peculiarities, endearing all without any
distinction, we blessed together by Immortal Gods to shelter together,

by, from, the seas that roll us into one peaceful island, nearly, dearly,

and now departed

                                                      ­ <>

Shell Beach,
Shelter Island
August 2021
Shounak Jul 2021
The dew on the moist leaves,
The gleaming orange in the sky,
The tiny chirper on the branch,
would all be seen for the last time

cancer came knocking at the door,
asking for nothing but his eyes,
life from now on wouldn't be the same,
putting in the glass ones of size

He looked at his parents one last time,
capturing their young but smiling faces,

He would cherish those faces forever,
For they're immortal, against the stride of time
The capture of those smiles, now with him forever.
No matter how old they get, they'll forever remain young.
Emily Apr 2021
the first time we met
you were daisies.


laughing in rain

running in wildflowers

resting there too

...then you were gone.

the next time
you were roses.


running from the world

playing broken pianos

living in empty castles

...then you were gone.

the third time
you were violets.


drinking bitter petal tea

watching stars

dressing in diamonds

...then you were gone.

a fourth
a fifth
a sixth

i find you again

it's all different
every time.

but you never remember.

not me.

not until your last moments.

...and so it repeats.

inspired by "immortal" by reinaeiry. (an immortal falls for the same soul over and over again)
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