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Bekah Halle Apr 1
She passes faster than we can grasp,
We try to capture her, firm in our clasp.
But she runs right through us,
Savouring, she becomes our mistress,
She rules indiscriminately,
Sometimes, not always, distressingly.

Oh, mistress Time, full of beauty,
Admired, best in present, free and fruity.
If we don't, we mourn,
And if only despaired, she will scorn.
But now, she comes alive,
Invigorated, we thrive.

Face to face, she tells tales,
Of the dreams; places we’ll sail.
Future fantasy, we indulge,
Temptress Time, let us divulge,
Our secrets,
Worn down, we slip; more regrets.
not that this bothers me,
the shades of your silliness.
the presence, my dear.
because if it did then,
i would’ve ceased
at delivering these words.
admittedly then, the silly person,
i suppose, must be me.
my father sat in a pool
of mid-morning sunshine
on the raised patio
overlooking the garden
an open book in his lap
the dog asleep at his side
the lightest of clouds
decorating the horizon
and a whisper of leaves
his only distraction

as i rushed to the kitchen
for a hastily made
better-than-nothing version
of a flat white
that i wouldn't even enjoy
only ten minutes to spare
before yet another meeting
i paused for a moment
to take in this scene
resplendent as he was
peacefully present
behind the radiance
of diaphanous lace
breeze-rippled curtains
suffused with sunlight

a pertinent reminder
of something which
i didn't have time
to consider
Bianca Petersen Jul 2023
I ran to you
To see you shine
The way you do
Every night
Tonight was special
A lunar eclipse
So full of benevolence
I couldn’t resist
I sat by the water
Waiting for the clouds to pass
So I could get a glimpse
Of your magnificence
So full of color and light
You still shine in the darkness of the night
Thank you for your presence
Thank you for your height
For I can see you wherever I may be
Each and every night
maria Jul 2023
I always wanted more for myself,
wanted to be memorable,
but now I barely remember most of my life.
Sometimes, I consider who I am,
study my reflection hard in the mirror
contemplate whether it's really me
and then ask if this is who I want to be.
What a responsibility it is
to carry this human flesh to the end
and to act in favor of this restless, desirous mind
for the entirety of a life.
Most of the time, I hardly register my life and world around me
and thus behave mindlessly,
and now I'm realizing that time is more than a concept
and that age will one day take me by the throat.
I've tried so hard to figure myself out,
but I suppose I should spend less time in my mind
and more time taking up space in this body.
a ****** few lines about self-reflection
May 2023
it was the sunset that promised you a new day, a better day
the colour of her smile after she made a silly joke
the adorable giggles she hid and the shy confessions she made

the warmth of her hugs, words and her eyes
it was the comfort that bloomed when she told me 'everything will be okay'. the safety I found in her eyes when I nodded, believing it too.

the sleepy goodnights and cheerful good mornings. it was the orange love between yellow smiles, forehead kisses and red-burning flames of passion

love that was always there, even when the sun went to sleep.

it was the all-encompassing flutters in my chest when we were together. orange butterflies racing against one another.

orange was the colour of her love, like the sunset, that always promised a better day
orange hugs. forever missing you.
the trouble is
sleep doesn't
ever seem to last
long enough
no matter how many
hours are lost
to its nothingness
discarded willingly
to the vague
and the vacuous
some might say
for dream's sake
but debate remains
around the benefit
relevance or reverence
to be found
in that logic
waking up always
brings with it
a desire for more
for a return to
a form of non-being
where presence
and nullity
have equal sway
to be
and
not to be
ego
     id
        superego
free of interference
from that backwards
rationality
   of consciousness
Coleen Mzarriz Jan 2023
With the hustling of leaves falling onto the ground and my hands used to the cold weather of Maple Street, the same sky where little strange souls like us meet—under the waves of clouds thickening our sight and our smiles splattered all over the place—remains.

I stirred my coffee, and you drank your now-cold chocolate drink. Your eyes carry the burdens of the stars and gravitate towards mine—I have been awake and alleviating the presence of old souls surrounding us, and I broke down. You embraced me like the classic song you are.

A lighthouse guarding travelers attempting to overcome the sea, I caught your hand and pressed it closer to my chest. Doors opened, unfolding a new chapter for us to climb higher than usual, and you looked at me like I used to look at you in pictures I keep for myself—lulling this young, brave soul to sleep in dull hours where you softly snore in a damp bed while the moon speaks in a softer tone to let you close your weary eyes and darkness begins to unfold within.

Sometimes it makes it harder to breathe the very same air you inhale—and these two young hearts live in another world, closer to home, and you held me, finally, the anchor I once dreamed of, and now your presence I could see—your skin I could be comfortable with.
wrote this for you, my love.
SUDHANSHU KUMAR Dec 2022
They talk for a new day
But the Sun has already extinguished
And he's lost in an unidentified darkness
Where the Moon is present
But doesn't accompany him at all...

And those twinkling Stars
Seems nothing more than his fading heart
Yet he's crawling along that dark path
In the little hope of a new Moon's ray
But he's unknown that a distance of 3,84,400 Km gapping them apart...

Again in that blank darkness
He sees some rays but this time Red
Unaware of the danger, he continues to step ahead...
They tell him to bridge the gap between him and the Moon
But he's burning down all of the Bridges
And thinks, he's going to build something new...

But it's just a thought, so, he decides to recall, all the things...
Before he prepares himself to see his own downfall..!
Alright!!!!!
Let me say that things are strange,
I am a strange man in a strange world.
I am barely here,
A Wraith
Seen only in reflection
Moving in shadows
Seldom acknowledged
Yet sentient.
Are you there? Can you hear me?
My invisible form wishes to be seen.
My existence justified only by function.
"Love me...
Like me...
Hear me..."
I say without sound.
How can I manifest in this world?
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