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What should I do?
How should I go on?
When all I want to do is give up
I have lost all hope
I cannot do this anymore

Trapped in a dark room
Surrounded by walls
I search for a way out
Only to find a window
Through which light shines
A tiny glimmer of hope

With stumbling feet
I reach out to it
Every step forward
A fighting chance I get
I soon reach the window
But all that I see
A figment of my imagination
No rays of hope
Nor open windows
Only plain black lies
About not losing hope

Should I go left?
Or, should I go right?
Lost in the abyss
Imprisoned by my mind
Surrounded by darkness
Gasping for breath
I feel claustrophobic
Pleading for this to end

My demons guard outside,
They do not let me out
No saving grace
My solace I have found

Give up or go on,
I do not know what to do
My demons tempt me to let go
I might soon
Maybe, in the afterlife, I will shine too bright
You will never see me upset then,
Just a pretty smile
Carlo C Gomez Feb 23
Image
autumn
womb

sunset chant

a feathered fog, isle of wight

we all have places that we miss

lie still, sleep long
panoramic dream
snippets
bathed in seldomness

lie still, sleep long
the gentle hum of eunoia
holding their absence

like balloon days
when delightful little occupants
holding adventure
in their very hands

keep them
from floating away
Yanamari Feb 7
The world shifts and
Suddenly you're by yourself
Melancholy twirling in your heart
Like an on and off lover
The way it seeps in and
Claims your day
What can you do but feel
And let feel
As if you're in a shelterless rain without an umbrella
Planning will only bring you so far
Rather
Claim the sadness
Before it claims you
James Rives Jan 20
poetry is bloodletting
for my aching hands,
brain, heart, soul, whatever.
in maroon, I see a *****,
disconnected features, details,
themes, emotion.
all useless without the right vessel.
the pages may get stained
but the Rorschach means nothing
without rhythm and image and heat
and light.
i deserved it
Zywa Jan 13
There's a museum

called Ministry of the Sea --


No coast anymore.
Poem "Bolivia (staatkundig)" ("Bolivia (political)", 1970, Gerrit Krol)

Collection "Stall"
those pensive ones
as they seem to me
birds on the wire
gazing this way
     and that
lost invariably
to their ennui
their melancholy
their obliviousness
to the point
some may say
     pointlessness
of their existence
in these moments
without reason
or incentive enough
to prompt one
     or the other
to take to the wing
embracing the bluster
of the ever-blowing winds
rather they sustain
this idle malingering
waiting listlessly
for that which none
can know
Carlo C Gomez Dec 2023
~
Time is a dark feeling
—the spell of a vanishing loveliness;
in the present mist
the imperatives in the wind
move less and less.

Haul away the anchor,
this is not a safe place.

Between insufficient coasts
—a land of look behind—
science is dead,
pessimism in the remaining oar,
and flies in the eyes of the Queen.
Their graves decorate the spine
on the east bank
they call Euthanasia,
each crucifix made of plasticine.

There's a discursive quality to the sea,
I can see the pearl fishermen,
the empty dancehall,
victims of latitude and eclipse.

I can see the tattered sleeves
of Edmund Fitzgerald and the pockets
of emptiness inside,
hoping to quell the hunger
of the cruelest month.

I can see an underwater country,
colonized by the unborn children
of pregnant African women
thrown off of slave ships
during the Middle Passage.

I can see myself sinking;
farewell my sorrow,
keeping precarious time
against a backdrop
of silence less and less;
its final sound being
that of seagulls
flying away into the distance
—a force of nature that’s
both solemn and inspirational
in equal parts.

~
Zywa Dec 2023
The corner café

must close, because times have changed --


There is a new law.
Song "Adieu café" ("Goodbye café", 1969, Willem Wilmink, sung by Herman van Veen)

Collection "Over"
Zywa Dec 2023
The dear family

photo, with a golden edge --


of melancholy.
Poem "Foto" ("Photo", 1980, Herman de Coninck)

Collection "Em Brace"
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