your chilled remembrance
soothes my charred indian burns
from love neglected.
How are you, my friend
You don't seem too well...
Again, you've tried to hurt me
Though I wouldn't hurt you as well.
For no matter what you do
I'd never lay a hand on you.
If you decide to pull the trigger
My spirit will just go up to the sky
And I won't even look back.
It wouldn't matter to you if I died.
I wouldn't even be mad at you
Though, I might want to know why.
My life was nice and steady
Even if it wasn't always the best,
I'm still a faithful person walking
I guess I just came across your path.
Even if it's the wrong one
I still came along and ironically crossed your road.
Just trying to spread my love
Just trying to ignore their hate.
So I'll never try to hurt you
Even if you hurt me.
And I'll never, ever follow
The footsteps of the enemy.
So once again, I say hello
I won't expect you to say it back.
Once again, I give a smile
Though you probably won't smile back.
But still, I'll say, hello my friend
Still, I greet you with open hands.
Inspired by the titles "Tell It To My Heart" or "Every Breath You Take"
I remember when
I saw you everyday
I couldn’t imagine
A world without you
I remember when
You started to fade
Out of my life
How we grasped
As our lives
Depended on it
At every goodbye
But now we just
What we left behind
Flashes of the past
Come to seize
Excited by the surprise
Then as quick as it came
And all you can hear
Is a whisper of a
I’m just metaphorical speaking
I meant writing..I’m actually typing though.
There’s something I want you to know...
I decided to reopen that attic door.
It was suppose to be open many times before.
I went up them stairs frighten and scared.
Wood started creaking, Voices were speaking.
Unpleasant feeling triggers all in head.
Feels like a threat but I ignore them instead.
All these old friends that I neglected.
I’m just a person “why would they be affected?”
Due to abandonment layers of dust had collected.
Decided to handle it I knew problems be expected.
My back turned is not an exception.
Time to clean up my messes.
Sometimes you wonder should I really go through a door that I should or shouldn’t open. Some doors are best left closed. Don’t want to reopen old wounds or problems. Cause further pain or it could turn out to be happiness. You know my problems is I want to be cool with everyone. Or have everyone to be cool with me. But usually in life a bad friend or even an ex should be left alone. That doors should not be open. The past will come up eventually in the conversation. Why have that feeling of awkwardness either you’ll have it or the opposite person will. Then that door is closed once again. I guess if that person dies I don’t want to begin again with a goodbye.
We tend to linger longer on old photos
Of when we were together
We were younger then...
Partners in crime, no bitter end.
“Besties” you had said—back then,
when we had painted the town red...
(Sorrow is a prison,
Forgiveness, a skeleton key.)
My quote.com collaboration
i watch from afar
all my old friends having fun and growing without me
some remember my ghost
but others have no recollection that i even existed
all those pictures
remind me of the times i had
this comforting sadness
im happy to see my old friends
yet here i am
half the world away
watching from a distance,
as they make new friends and new memories.
i can't go back,
but i can't seem to move forward.
so here i lay
me and my friend sadness.
I saw some old friends
Shared old jokes, old memories
All to make new ones
Some were breaking
Now riding the wave
Others were drowning
Now swimming up and away
There’s secrets cleaning the tables
Unanswered questions serving food
And I cannot comprehend the distance
We began in tandem
Building this great pyramid
A myriad of hope
Block by block
Carried by our journey to discover new lands
Off the shores of collective success
Some higher than others;
All in it.
Tears and fears
Winding along and around
Loving concepts, people, food
It was just good business
3 years on
Time sweeps our intricate
Warped and winning
Bodies and brains
Under, once more,
The same old roof -
Oh my, how things have changed
Those men who were ringing the bells
Calling the shots
Trail scandals behind them
Like pieces of toilet paper
Still attached to their shiny, worn out shoes
Are we a pleasant reminder of a band of brothers in arms
A loyal family of resilient workers
Who played a note or two in your orchestrated dream?
Rather I fear
It’s much the opposite
Although we were greeted like old friends
With lopsided smiles of nostalgia
In the pit of my stomach
(The one you used to feed)
It just seemed like we were evidence of ghostly shame
An unwelcome reminder of a past which tried to swallow them up for dinner
A quiet embarrassment
That knew it did not deserve us
Like a lover who had tried to move on
When we’d decided to move in next door
Dear friends many of you have moved
from surroundings I knew and loved with you
but my memories of us have not defused
like clouds hanging dark but always new.
In old age it is the memories that flow
and make you present with hearts beating wildly
times we drank beer decrying the status quo
and when we celebrated little things like being Friday.
We celebrated a lot when life was so full
alive with discoveries, conflicts, and diversity
when our desires and thoughts pushed and pulled
and we felt pain and hope in multiplicity.
But now so many of you are gone
to places unknown: some to you and some to me
and together we won’t know joys of new dawns
we will deal with things like that **** aching knee.
For some of you your children are grown
for me poetry, love, and God enliven and wake me up
but nobody can take from me the bonds I have known
bonds cast with you in sharing, caring, and lifting life’s cup.
In long moments in a waiting room
trying to ignore the next challenge of my body
I’ll be grateful. I’ll not dwell in spaces of doom
I’ll remember those times of being good or naughty.
I’ll visit the rooms and the halls
where we gathered to learn and teach
in those precious moments of my recall
I’ll gather you together for the universes we’ve yet to reach.
This morning I came across a description of the “Epistolary poem” form and it gave me an idea to express to something I’ve been thinking about recently. The title reveals the addressees of the poem, but hopefully others will find something helpful or meaningful in it.