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I'm closing my eyes deep In thought drifting slowly
remembering I can see snow on the ground I'm In a park
all the trees bare of leaves they look almost like ghostly figures hiding In the shadows waiting to pounce
I approach a Park bench I'm not afraid because there Is a hand In mine It's that of that wife to be Helen her name so sweet she Is so full life sitting down beside
me I'm looking at her pretty face It's bitterly cold but neither of us feels It we have youth on our
Helen Is dressed In this lovely two-piece green suit white blouse white stockings and beautiful black shoes so petite almost like a china
I'm sitting there can't take me off her but no way was I going to let this girl slip away I'd made up my there then she would become my wife
Helen was so beautiful to me as I finally her walked home we stood at Helen garden gate I looked In those beautiful blue eyes
I could hear my voice In
my head It said you don't know It yet Helen but I'm going to marry
shortly after that I did so proud of her I was she gifted me a son even though my poor girl passed away our son stayed with me he's just like his
I love him so much I'm reluctantly opening my eyes now my short time away from reality was so good while It lasted so beautiful Helen was to
Helen In her beautiful green two piece suit white blouse and white stockings black shoes she look like a China
Doll so petite Helen was so beautiful to me
Kristina Weeks Nov 2018
I know that there was once a time
I wrote a poem about us
I talked of alternate realities
And in you it rose a fuss

In it I spoke about our lives
Multiple and each one different
Some were happy some sad
Our story always recurrent

In the end I spoke of us
I had come to a resolve
In our story of talks and shows
Soon the times would dissolve

But as our time together has passed
Our story has evolved
Something inside me started to change
In my story you became more involved

Now in this story of talks and shows
The original plot is new
What once was an untimely end
Now begins and ends with you

So if you’ll let me I’ll write you in
In as many places as I can
I can’t lose you now you’re part of me
Our life together just began
Kristina Weeks Jul 2018
Why are you so familiar
The way you look so iconic
You’re the gin in my tonic
The reverie is chronic

Have we met before now
In some distant place
I know I’ve seen your face
Old memories you replace

Perhaps we knew before
Each other in another life
Not this one we’re in now
Other realities; Our story rife

Maybe in one we met young
We went to the same school
I was too scared to talk to you
You were probably too cool

I watched you from afar
Saw you grow and mature
You married her and never saw me
That is one I’m sure

Maybe in one I wasn’t scared of you
I faced my fear; We talked
You decided to give me the time of day
And on the beach we walked

We dated for a while then
But one day it was too much
I pushed you away you disappeared
Some stories go as such

Maybe in one our time was brief
A few moments maybe more
Minutes or possibly seconds then
The short ones I abhor

I was down and depressed that day
I was looking for a friend
I saw you then you frowned at me
My life I decided to end

Maybe in one we’re fictional
Characters in a book
We existed only as words on a page
That story I would look

I was a princess and you a knight
You rescued me from a tower
A dragon you slayed you were so brave
With your golden sword of power

Maybe there’s a happy one
My favorite one at best
The one with the happy ending
In this one we were blessed

We stayed together, got married then
Some kids to college we would send
With each other we grew old
We closed our eyes; Our story ends

Ramblings of an imaginative girl
It could all just be thought
But just in case I could be right
My many lives, you’ve meant a lot

Each one just as important
No matter how short or long
In each one you’ve played a part
Your contribution never wrong

So now we’re here in this life
Talking in your bed and going to shows
When this one ends our souls restart
Infinite loop of which no one knows

It’s comforting to think about
How my spirit will follow true
In life and in death we’ll find each other
I’ll forever love you
Comforting thoughts of eternal love.
Rahul Luthra Jul 2018
Thinking all day about things that won't happen
Is a hobby you should avoid, else your mood will surely dampen
But what can you possibly do when you think back to those days
When life was so much better, even without that purple haze
It's okay to reminisce, but too much of it leads to brooding
Living in your world of dreams is unhealthy, even though it's soothing
When things are bad I like to go down memory lane
And re live past memories while trying to bury the pain
But burying the pain only strengthens its roots
No point in growing an apple tree if you can't reap its fruits
This dream like state of mine has made me somewhat curious
The questions are legit, yet my answers make me furious
I'm at a conflict with myself and I don't know which one's right
The dreams never seem to stop and I'm not talking about the ones at night
Would you give anything to go back in the past,
to save that relationship that was never meant to last?
And even though you know you can never really change
You'd make that empty promise to have your life neatly arranged
These dreams are the result of the hearts numerous desires
And so we avoid the truth and grow an affinity for the liars
As humans we need some sort of goal to be able to mentally function
Because only thinking without doing could lead to self destruction
If you think too much about your past you're bound to get lost
The present goes to waste and the future is the cost
What will happen over time is not fully in your hand
Some call it the Butterfly Effect and some call it God's Plan
I could say things will get better, and you could say the same thing
But to see that truly happen, you must be your own King
Traveler Jun 2018
Dear universe
I've minimum to report
Our world is still spinning
Into entropy
And out of control
We know not yet
What we really
Need to know
Ice and fire
Hot lava and snow
Around and around
The sun we go
Gravity held
  Inertia repelled
All our matter
Heading for ****

Dear universe
Just letting you know!
Traveler Tim
My fingers sometimes feel like they were meant for more.

I close my eyes and feel the realities clashing against each other.

A myriad of choices drowned out by the distance of a universe. I can see a trillion different fingers gripping pencils in different ways.

Watch from a billion pairs of eyes as my brain trickles art into the air in a billion different dreams. Count the infinite variations rippling out from each song I sing.

Each tune never played writes the outlines of the sketches I've only felt. The rings of possibilities never to pass pull themselves back into the pond. Memory retracting light from infinite universes.

I remember it's just me. In the dark writing words that don't seem to gleam like all the things my dreams wish I could be.
Michael Dec 2017
You cry in letters of the distance,
Of correspondence in poor fashion,
And of the memory of better times
That still haunt you.

But as you cry, I step away
As your letter arrives, I ready the match
As you recall old memories.
I glance at the forlorn grave

You dreamed a dream long ago,
Of a family, large and warm
But that dream, was an anchor
That drowned any hope,
That might ever visit here.

So, you sing the songs of your hope,
You adorn the walls for its arrival
You put on the glasses of rose
All the while you take no notice
Of the distance that proceeds

At every banner hung, and song sung
A step is driven, a furlong added
I hope you one day see
This family you hope for
Will never be
But there is a family here
In need of acceptance from thee
Time lapse of
sublimation of melodies,
blurred caffeinated visions,
the smell of breeze,
with a tinge of petrichor,
cold wet grass,
the bare feet,
an impulse strikes the heart,
capillaries dosed
with sugary love,
eyelids popping,
turning like red sprinkles
of kesar,
in a cold icy lake,

this never-ending dream,
defeats an unpredictable life,
or maybe we are dreaming only,
unable to see the tombstone
of reality,

waiting to wake up,
away from the monotony,
from barren heartless lands,
to ourselves,
to create,
a life destined to
eclipse these dreams.
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