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Susana Apr 2020
Seated in a car with the windows slightly down
my father was hidden behind a mask, you could hardly see his face
we drove past the bright rapeseed fields
and I smiled as the smell of cows gently carresed my skin
like it always used to, spring evening

Sweet despair was in the air
came as quickly as the sun set down
will fade away when the first rays hit
but far away will still be felt
like it always does, spring evening

Years go by and my mind gets tired
life did look different those 10 years back but my dads voice sounded the same
as today, a warmth of the fireplace
like I used to feel, spring evening

Seems like a good time, to cease it
make it a happy ending, peaceful sky
could never feel this close to being a child, a child again
like I never thought I could, spring evening
ChrisYellow Sep 2019
The shell hangs on a golden string
asymmetric lines curved together
in the valley that roots my neck
a picture inside I keep on holding.

Cheap cloths on a public beach,
the young us playing catch,
a moment in colors of chess,
caught by a since lost lens.

It holds all those stormy nights
I came to sleep by your side,
all the "how was your day"s
of the greening of the leafs.

The cold of the suns that set
shed of that and other salt
and dried, pressured into pulp
holds the bones in a pole.

Me, a flag to the wind of time
tight to it gaze the reviewer,
it is that shell of once upon
my compass to where I've been.

But the tide keeps at my ankles
resigned to rob under my feet
the desert that there stood
steady as the clock's beat.

The day will come it will win
when of this shell I lose grip
and holding on to a gem
won't brace me for the slip.

Because it is your history
the concrete ground
the future is built upon.
inspired by the "Simply red" music "holding back the years".
BlueInkDitty Dec 2018
Back then, I have been listening,
I was watching your eyes,
Blinded by a silver gleam.
You, you stood in the blessings,
With your sincerest lies,
Wounding me to my deepest seam.

And that's how childhood passed away,
With elves and villains that we thought would stay,
Maybe it was peace we had, this day.

Hello you, my unlasting best friend,
Hello you, my vision is still blurr,
Hello you, for you I can stand 'til the end,
If you don't forget who we were.

And now, you weren't listening,
You were caught in all of them,
The blind people in your heart.
You have kept on hiding,
You've been setting all the blames,
On my love from the start.

But don't take it seriously,
The time and I will pass, if you just wait you'll see,
You know that now you don't need me.
Oh love, that is how childhood passed,
With great wishes that couldn't stay or last,
And love, maybe I held you too fast.

Hello you, my feather in the ink,
Hello you, the sea in which I sink,
Hello you, I can stay with you, that's for sure,
If you don't forget who we were.
Renan Racy Jan 2018
Here I stand again, by myself
In a different spot, in the same moment.
I've been all my life running through these cycles,
New people, new girlfriend, new activities, new place
As they always do, at some point they run low and I run far,
I keep my distance, enough to get warm, enough so I won't get burnt.
Even so, in the end, I make the
same mistake, everytime a season falls
I stretch out from this safe sacred shell I've built to
protect myself, only to regret leaving, only to regret ever even
building it in the first place. So, as the last leaf falls I'll be there, getting close to the fire and the certainty of getting a deep burn.
I feel pathetic, do you know what pathetic means? It's not what you'd expect,
I'm not what you'd expect,
you're all more than I expected.
Maybe that's my sin, to burn for not letting people in earlier,
to burn and realise it's ok. You don't have to fall in love today, not again. Just kiss her and move on. You don't have to feel alone today, not again. Just hug them and move on.    Tomorrow a new season begins, maybe for a day, maybe for five more years, maybe the last you will ever see.
Do you see some sort of metric in this "poem"? Do you see it's shape unfolding right through your eyes as you read? You're mistaken, it means nothing, it's much simpler than you think, I can never convince you of that, though. And, as the cicada's song, our cycle repeats, it's funny;
It's tragic;
It's real.
Not sure what I mean with anything here. Graduating from university, wrote as I felt. I'll miss them all, even the ones I never exchanged a word with. Especially the ones I don't like. Majorly the ones I love. See you all around.
P.S.:"The cicada's song" is a reference to a joke Mephisto tells God in Goethe's Faust.
Marwa Dec 2017
I just stood there glancing at him

as this little voice in my head kept whispering to me

that he wasn’t the one,

and will never be

For I lost the only person I ever cared for.



I just stood there glancing at his lips

While he worshiped my kisses

Begging for my skin to be against his

Craving for my touch



I just stood there glancing at his eyes

Hoping that someday, they will resemble yours

Trying to catch sight of his soul

To prove myself he had at least one thing in commun with you

I could have simply walked away



But instead I stood there

waiting for something I couldn’t control

waiting for something he couldn’t give me

waiting for his love to magically appear



No it wasn’t right,

Asking for his love

when I knew I couldn’t accept it

Asking for his love

when I didn’t love him

Asking for love

in the exact same place where I lost yours
It had just stopped raining
The musty smell from the
Carved wood of the swings
And the earthy scent of the
Damp sand below them
Awoke in you a nostalgic feeling
And memories started playing
Like old movies inside your mind.

A child’s sweet laughter
Filled your ears and you found yourself
Mesmerized by the innocence of
That young, boisterous voice
You had long forgotten
It sounded like your song
Played in a different key
A melody life had yet to change

You wished you could still run to mom
When you tripped and hurt your knee
Back when the only kisses that mattered
Happened when she kissed it better
Back when the only wounds you
Had to bandage were from
Falling on the playground

The movie ended and too soon
You spotted the dark clouds ahead
Gathering over you like thoughts
On comic books you used to read
You got up and left the memories behind
They stayed there like kids would
Having fun like you never could again.
elouazzani kenza Feb 2016
All I want
Is to go back
In time
And live
that memory
one more
Time.
To the whispering trees
I tell my darkest secrets
With my hungry sight

And they understand

And as I walk through
The sound of ticking clock
With my hands
In my pockets full of sand

I realize I give no love
To this world
And no love I get back

I just stare.

And I think...
Think...
Think.

Why's the sound so hollow?
Am I here?

And the clock stopped ticking
Trees weren't whispering anymore
Waves ate what was left
Of my wrinkled soul

Now I'm a flinching body
With a case of thoughts

Have you ever listened?

Lazy silence
Heavy breath of what's unsaid
Running through the foggy gardens

Ops...

So I swallowed my own hand
Reached for heart that wasn't mine
Snatched it out and bottled up
And just threw it to the ocean

No, I haven't. Have I?
Maybe I’m young but I’m not careless at all.
So many thoughts I can’t put in words.
So many feelings at once.
Happiness, nostalgy, fear, gratefulness for who I am
and so many more I just can’t, I can’t name.
All these words seem to be so ordinary
but in my head every of them looks so big.
I know, the time when everything starts will come.
I want to discover my life.
I’ll never stop trying to define who I am.
True life is that one you live your dreams.
Without the dreams, without self-esteem, without the purpose,
without trying to understand myself I’m nothing.
Because what’s the point of vanity?
The world of dreams is the real world.
Nostalgy is beauty.
Being yourself is possibility to be who you want to be.
And all I want to be is a good person.
And all I want to do is doing whatever makes me happy.
And whatever makes me feel alive.
I want to live, not just exist.
Standing tough on the ground but still living in a dream.
This is my world. This is my life.
Quick look out the window. It’s not the same.
I wish the grass was greener. It’s just not good enough.
I’m not good enough.
We used to love, we used to hate, we used to feel.
Now we’re filled with emptiness.
And I miss the days when air was thick and thoughts were fleeting.
I miss the smell of petrol and wet wood.
The sun hurts my eyes and I’m thinking: why it has to be this way?
I could be better of that. I could be what I once was.
I know you didn’t have to go. I’ve always known but I was okay with that.
I’m just never on the first place. But at least I try…
I need a purpose. I have to do something for myself.
Walking around watching leafs fall down isn’t a thing to do.
I wanna go back there, feel that excitement again.
I know something will move. I can change.
And when you’ll ask me to come back I’ll refuse.
You’re just not a person to waste time on.
You have burned me, now I’ll watch you burn.
Just give me my old photos back so I can throw them out myself,
So I can move on.
Let’s just go back there and smell the petrol and wet wood.
Let’s go back there and love, and hate, and feel…
And let our thoughts be light and fleeting…
Let’s just levitate for a while.

— The End —