Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
Reza Sedghi Sep 25
I died as i sip, the last inch drop of memories...
Tasteless, unfragrant, fragmented vacancies...

Recollecting, regulating the blurry negligible visions...
Recalling, rewriting, summarizing the Summaries

It felt like Treachery, disregarding this treasury...
life is a Memory, and then it is nullity...

Or at least that's what the wise man said...

We drown ourselves in each shot and swim out with a sigh
Sometimes with a gloom and sometimes with a smile

But in the end, both fades away,
And oh how quickly they fade away...

As if waves washing away our names written on the shore...
it fades out to presence, to sense another sore

sores, like old chest boxes, we dive deep in each,
swimming into it's memories, bone narrow they breached

like Leeches, we **** on our melancholy as we silently screech
watching pains as days turning to wrinkles, as closer we reach

We build our future, though we live for the past...
We all get obsessed and we all get attached...
We move forward to looking back trying to find a meaning...
But after all, Life is a memory, and then it is nothing...

Or at least that's what the wise man said
Been a long time since i haven't write anything, tried to keep up
Raul M Murray Jul 15
A memory is fading
Like a plucked guitar string
Life is like music echoing
Leaving moments of loving
But existence is tough can be distressing
Recall is a flashback jogging
Of those days we we're fooling
Recollection of parties drinking
*** & coke £10 to go clubbing
A memory is a souvenir
Everyday a memory a premiere
Show God's cast a simper
Smiling is like sunshine in summer
Outnumbering grey matter of choler
Make the most of every premiere
May not be what the heart desire
Your smile can lift any soul higher
Transforming the human frontier
choler | ˈkɒlə |
noun [mass noun]
(in medieval science and medicine) one of the four ****** humours, identified with bile and believed to be associated with a peevish or irascible temperament. Also called yellow bile.
• archaic anger or irascibility.
Ming Jun 19
I swallowed my saliva
Desiccated air
It was darker than the city
At urban’s edges pretty
First Prize Second
The ringer goes off in sequence
The theme park illuminated
Not with lights but with
The smell of anticipation
Holding our own
Felt like holding someone else’s
Our footsteps
Loud but drummed to the beat of another it paces
The Crusaders mediated
A brawling debut
Of words at the brim
Of our throats in disputes
Our silence
Unlike the night
Was warmer than an Afghan
20 kilometres felt like 2
When I am walking alongside
Hand not in hand
Alongside with you
A recollection of a night walk home with a newly made friend that I will remember forever. "Way Back Home" is a song by The Crusaders, it was the song we were listening to.
tmartin May 8
words aren't insisting
to be enshrined in poems.
i'm forgetting you
Yet close to the heart

Of you

You are divine
Genre: Experimental
Theme: Your Worth
Mystic Ink Plus Sep 2019

Genre: Micro verse
Theme: Privileged
Author's Note:
He/She might not say
Anything casual

Expect something
Calm to ears
Mystic Ink Plus Sep 2019
आज तिमी
जस्तै देखे
भन्न मन थियो

म नै हो त्यो
भन्यै भने
बोल्ने शब्द थिएन
शैली : मुक्तक
विषय: यात्रा स्मृति
being of sound mind and body
I must write of the days when I was slightly ******
when I would disappear into the dark
with headphones
Dark Side of the Moon
or I Robot taking me on journeys
only I could take
my room the isolation tank
Altered States
my mind the well that echoed within
sitar vibrations of an unspoken thought
dreams the night before realized in a wave
of painted sound
when the consciousness of awake and the boundless landscape of sleep
fused with the lost chord
one was as close as one could be to God
on this plane
R Aug 2019
Why do i drink so much? I ask me
Because I don’t wanna forget
I tell me
I don’t wanna forget how it feels to be happy
Don’t wanna forget how it feels to cry
Don’t wanna forget how it feels to have feelings
When i lay motionlessly under the sky
The sweet sweet taste of whiskey i sip
Makes me recall how it feels to be carefree
Reminds me it’s ok to be reckless and fall
It’s ok to have feelings
That burning alcohol
makes me feel free
From the shield i have created
So effortlessly
It makes me feel again
The sensation of a tear rolling down my chin
It makes me feel again
All the emotions which i now call sins
I am not romanticizing my sadness
Just telling you my story
Why i sip neat whiskey
Early in the morning
It’s not for you
I do it for me
Sip whiskey alone and try to sleep
Next page