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Shrika Oct 8
Withered and within
a dying breath
and yarns of endless ephemerae,
like thunder, like lightning,
igniting ages of delusion;

A fear.

Astral and adrift,
I  bloom in adventures,
yet amble in ink of hundred hues,
like a bubble, like a feather,
lazing in prismatic pastels;

A vagabond.

Etched and enshrouded  ,
a fiery trail of my footprints
I have yet to reach,
like a fantasy, like a nightmare,
calling, in dusk-soaked whispers;

A journey.

A life ahead.
Posting after a long time...
This one holds many of my thoughts,
lately they've been drifting a lot
fray narte Sep 28
---
tw

i need a place to rot and breathe —
a place to spit out pieces of this heart
but i have fallen apart
in all the corners of this room;
each tile,
each yellow wall
reeks of the rain and burial wreaths and
there is no space left to taint,
no grave left to lay
this sorry poem on.

i need a place to rot and breathe,
but my demons have seen me
hold enough burials;
if they pick on my skin tonight
they will see layers of grief,
softly decaying under another.

i remember the first time
anubis laid kisses on my skin.
the second.
the third.
still, i wince in reflex
at the memories,
and maybe if i perfect all these staged funerals,
i will learn to kiss back, with total abandon.

i need a place to rot and breathe,
but t h e s e parts of sadness
don't get written
and my demons, they have pitied me
for holding enough burials
to last a lifetime.

tonight, they bury me.

somewhere, anubis smiles his kindest
and my name in a eulogy haunts
a church's weary walls.
Ces Sep 27
A jumble of words I cannot utter
For their incoherence
I consciously mumble to myself
Struggling to put into writing
The garbled mess of my mind:

Filled with images
Of discarded tires and umbrellas
Of sandwiches and old socks
Withered flowers I bought
For no one in particular
The street where I live
The unbearable sadness of
Losing a dime
My self-referential musings
Of time loops and black holes

All nonsense...

Reality is now this gooey
And icky, unrecognizable
Substance.
fray narte Sep 27
I.
This love was made for late-night drives and city lights, left hundreds of miles away. It was made for footsteps, softened by museum floors. It was made for crowded airports — your hand, still finding mine. It was made for sunset-lit kisses, as Intramuros crumbles in the background; the walls and I are both made of brittle bones and curiosities, falling away at your kiss and yet, I felt my purest — my softest whilst the free-fall.

Maybe I did love you more.

II.
Love, it was soft. It was good. It was home. And it was a lie.

And I loved you, I loved you, I loved you — finally with a kind that didn't hurt. And yet, I never knew how to miss you without wanting to rip my heart out.

Maybe I did love you more.

III.
"I wish I didn't hurt you."

"Me too."

And despite you saying it, maybe it was I who loved you more. I know my poems have been saying goodbye way too many times.

Maybe I did love you more.

IV.
But this love, it was made for endings. And I hope you comb through airport seats, looking for my face among strangers. I hope you see my name, fading with dying lights. And I hope you know I'll no longer allow myself to think of us. Tonight, poems won't be mourning you — it'll be mourning my wounds.

Your name is written all over them.

Tonight, your memory will feel the steady flow of my pulse. It'll feel each of my aching breath, in silence that once belonged to us. And tonight, your memory will hold me gently in its arms, for the last time. As if we weren't broken. As if we were still us. And I will slip away, one breath at a time — before the day breaks.

I hope your thoughts no longer haunt me come early, morning light.

And I know I say goodbye way too many times, darling — I say goodbye too many times.

Maybe I did love you more.
here you are
farther to my touch,
closer to my heart;
bridging gaps between
my heady desires and,
sanity and sensibility.

here I am
lost in your thoughts
and words,
dreaming about a hundred
springs and summers
that await us.

here you are
looking into my eyes
asking questions and
seeking answers; listening
intently to all the quiet
sighs and loud silences.

here I am
showing you the way
around and letting you
through the walls I've
built  without fears or
inhibitions of any sort.

here we are
brought together by
the distance but aren't
sure of treading the
paths we've never
been on before.

here we are
writing happy little
stories in sand until
the impending wave of
doom and despair crashes
into the castles of our future.

and here we will be
hiding behind
those tiniest of smiles
that keep lingering on
our lips which have always
reluctantly said goodbye.
LeoH Sep 4
For what it’s worth
The accidental poet, Leo
Finds catharsis in
Composing in
The poetic form

His words are private
Musings of a distressed mind
And yet he is happy
To share his verse
So you may also
Find your truth
I wrote this a couple of years ago when I was asked for a bio for a poetry publication.
Ivyanna Aug 30
What a city!
What tales to tell!

A pizza boy crossing the street
impatient, tired features
clicking of heels on the stairs
their elbows touch
strangers from different worlds
intimate for a fleeting moment

Wailing of an ambulance
crashing with the seductive smell
from the corner coffeeshop

A girl flirting with the waiter
while round the block
at a divorce court
one fairy tale ends

Yesterday's newspaper
left on the bus seat
a homeless man in the park
humming quietly
the city has many faces

Raindrops on your office window -
is it a life what's happening out there?
Love scares me
You reveal parts of me that recklessly try to hide in plain sight
But you are so soft
Pure laughter from your lips
Your eyes forgive my mistakes so easily
I don’t know how to hide

Life is sweeter with you
Like the sweetness you taste from honey
In the warmest and richest way possible
Nourishment for the soul
Unlike the sweetness from plain sugar
Forcefully sweet and cold
An antidote rather than an elixir

Your words caress me
Like the wind blowing the washed clothes dry
Sunlight dripping in every thread woven
The faint scent of detergent smiling
Unlike the loud laundry dryers
Buzzing with wrath and fury
Demanding the water to vanish at once


I like your smile that brings your whole face together
Almost like how pizza is made complete with spread and toppings
It’s beautiful but satisfying  
Cherry on top of the cake
It makes my heart flutter and melt
Like cheese dripping out from yummy corn dogs
Messy but so so lovely

I love everything about the way it is with you
Head to toe
Limbs to fingers
Lips to chin
A portrayal of being in love with a person .
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