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Imogen 6h
"... I am old now, as the poets warned.

The courtyard smiles still as in my youth,
Immune to the ravages of Time:

                     The pomegranate trees still sway,
                     As lush and beautiful as flute girls
                     Unfettered by "the weight of years"*;

                     Laughs in garlands of ivy,
                     And now, as then, sweetens my tears with roses."
* = "the weight of years", a term I have seen several times in translations of Euripides' work; the phrase resonates with me. :)
Eva 13h
Her
I think about her often

Laughing, plotting, always ready for fun

Her hair; whipping and dancing around her even on those rare occasions when she was still.

Her eyes; deep pools of teenage confusion betraying the confidence of her smile.

I think about her often, and I hope that she is happy.
My first poem on this site. This is about someone I knew for only 2 weeks, more than 20 years ago. I wonder if she thinks of me also.
Maya 18h
i sleep in a house
but dream of a home
-

i miss what it was like.
where did i go wrong?
can we calculate the precise moment that a building collapses?
can we remember the exact moment that our lives crumble around us?
-
i miss the way things were.
Imogen 22h
"The trees cast off their emeralds,
And all is quiet without.

The flowering of a love
Soothes the first pangs of Autumn."
Imogen 1d
Inhaling the warmth of olives
I savor these sunhigh
Golden hours

Summer
Sweltering hangs
Like a curse

Oppressing

Pressing

Down

Against my skin,
Flooding my lungs
With amber warmth
From all directions.
Imogen 1d
"The golds and greens of childhood
Are tinged with the blues of might-have-been."
I got a phone call from your mother today.
Her lips were pursed and candied, I'd say.
I couldn't see her between the borders of states,
but she told me I should let go of the blame.

She called me up to build me higher than I've felt for the longest day.
We spoke a while and dreamt on a nostalgic plane.
She told me sweetly that her memories of her daughter
involve me, too, in some way.
She lingered with each breath as if to sigh,
before she told me she used to lie awake.
Rue in her wrinkles for having turned me away.
From your funeral that long-gone but not forgotten day.

Her sighs turned to shudders and her facade of being a mother
shattered like chalky, kiln pressured Ohio Valley clay.
She sobbed through hysterics and left me feeling desperate
of feeling a similar love for the ghost I'll leave behind
with a note lengthened in a shakily scrawled essay.

It was pure and powerful to hear the shake.
In her voice as it pronounced my three syllable name.
Hoping she got my number right,
not knowing there's a reason I've not cared to change.
Today I got the answer to a question I never thought to say.
Speaking is important to lighten how the emotions weigh.
She told me I should let go of the blame.

But you knew me best, better than they.
I can't quit the blame.
But I can lie to her for her own sake.
So she can move on and feel less of the dismay.
No parent should ever outlive their own flesh given.
The sound of her voice like a subdued painful frisson.
I told her a lie to keep her spirits intact.
To keep alive a promise whose corners are bent, but without *****.
I know you'd let me out of any dotted line I signed if I wanted
free of your Faustian contract,
But I digress,
I'm a mess.
Full of shame for how I handled you and your name.
I've written and talked about you like you were an old flame.
I tried moving on,
but all the old noises I hear them new, and all the same.
Your ghost has followed me because I asked, and you came.

I love you,
I miss you.
I'll come play with you in space.
a bad week turned worse and the Summer curse extends into the fallen bottom of a solemn Autumn

ever wonder why you bother? yeah, me too.
Houses in tall grass.
Another one shut down, the mines.
Boon of pride, swollen like a tick caught in your sock.

Winds blow through yesterday and are colder now.
Ever wonder why some things aren't allowed?

Attention like reception, cut-down by the everything in-between.

The quarry used to be a swimming hole.
Now it's just a hole.
Memories are the only reminders worth remembering.
The second hand embarrassment of a word mispronounced
makes my skin ***** with goosebumps.
Makes my hair stand on anxious end.
Hope no fleas are underneath.

Stay at home. Stay inside. Stay put.
Hole yourself up in your room.
The chance is a drink you'll wake to regret.
The mistake is in believing you know best.

What greatness have you achieved to give yourself advice?
Everything accomplished within four walls you've lived in alone.
Your whole life.

Houses in tall grass.
Sleeping in dusty room.
Tread softly lest you disturb the might-have-beens.
The first step in succeeding is listening to the lessons.
ten minute poem,
Our shared breathes were rushed secrets
cheeks stained pink with every caress

I can’t seem to forget us
time eases the pain
but my memories seem
to relish in it
if for just a glimpse of you

our hands loosely entwined
I can’t seem to forget you
hands become legs
and suddenly I am back in our bed
our legs loosely entwined
and for that moment
I believe that we'll be alright
but glimpses of heaven
are just that
glimpses


I wish I could stop thinking of you
but your presence lingers
and i am too afraid to admit to myself
that you are already gone
Echoes from the past
Memories that will forever last
And as I remember, the sun shines a little brighter
Nostalgic all nighters

The tick of the clock awakens me
Time is moving on
Pressing play on the same radio
But i’m hearing different songs
Those days are far, far gone
Oh sweet, sweet pain
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