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Immortality Feb 7
we met again,
two strangers,
carrying the same memories.

time stopped too,
when our eyes met,
whispered hello.

but this time,
we walked away,
knowing the future.
right time, right person.... just not fated :)
Kim Seul Feb 6
A sunset or the moon,
a momentary reunion,
meant to be soon;
though destined to separation,
they wait fervently for another chance,
of the sundry,
eternally to dance.
Gabriel Yale Jan 15
In a world of crumbling cities, we stand on the platform’s edge,  
A train hums softly, bearing whispers, she says, “We must pledge.”  
"The road ahead is dark," she breathes, "And this place offers no grace,"  
She boards in haste, I'm left behind,
faceless foes as the shadows close in place.

With cold hands grasping tight, they hold me back with force,  
The train is moving, heart is pounding, love’s a fleeting course.  
But through the struggle, I break free, tearing through their hold,
I sprint to catch the fleeting train, heart burning, fierce and bold.  

From car to car, I chase her voice, through walls of steel and gloom,  
Her cry cuts through the silence, like the bloom of a flower’s doom.  
“Where is he? Has he made it?” Her voice, a tremulous song,  
And in that moment, I hear her call, where we both belong.  

With joy, we meet, our arms entwined, the world feels whole once more,  
She rests on my lap, our lips collide - relief, like never before.  
In the depths of night, in a broken world, we find our stolen light,  
Together, we are home again, love’s fire burning bright.
Together again, we are the same.
This poem explores the desperate pursuit of love in a dystopian world where shadows and cold forces threaten to tear apart connections. The protagonist’s struggle to reunite with a loved one amidst a crumbling, uncertain world highlights the enduring power of love as a beacon of hope. The imagery of the train serves as a metaphor for both escape and the journey toward redemption, while the repeated theme of darkness and light emphasizes the tension between despair and the warmth of love.
Kenshō Dec 2024
We met once again,
In an instance
Outside of time.

You reminded me
You hadn't gone.
And, we caught up
On moments lost.

You explained,
It was just
A misunderstanding.

You had hid away,
To make us all
Realize
How much we loved you
When you were
Here.

The solace I felt
At your return
Filled me up.
Just like old times.

Until, you needed to go
Again;
Leaving me wondering,
When I'll see you again.

For, you had many
Loved ones to visit
That night;

And you were the
Shared connection
Between us all.

As I wiped the
Sleep from my eye,
I got ready for the day
Without you.

~

Yes, my friend, my heart has enough space to carry you a thousand times, back and forth from here to there. And, I know there will be a space for me in yours when I see you then.
I love you forever!
Zywa Dec 2024
'You haven't changed at all!'

He laughs at his compliment --


that is a question.
Short story "Het was lekker, nu is het op" ("It was nice, now it's over", 2024,  Franca Treur), in the NRC of December 21st, 2024

Collection "Chance"
Zywa Nov 2024
To my arms rushes

the happiness of her eyes --


straight into my heart.
Poem " 'n onordelike gevoel van geluk" ("a disordered feeling of happiness", 2022, Antjie Krog) - A grandchild comes to visit

Collection "Loves Tricks Gains Pains in the 20s"
OurStars Oct 2024
Years passed,
Watches broken,
(Hour) Glasses turned,
Ages soared,
        
Memories remained

Smile unchanged,

Hearts jubilant,

Are you the same?


To feel the warmth,
I embraced you tight,

Tired by the wait
At our little paradise.

The leaves rustle:
‘Oh! Autumn has knocked.’

And soon I know,
It’s my farewell now…..
I was reunited with my childhood friend after five and a half years...Being teenagers, we had changed, just a bit too much for us to accept..Though I was very happy, it will be short, cuz in the next two years, I will have to move out, while she will have to stay....So, I wanted to write a crisp poem about that.
Nat Lipstadt Sep 2024
long after these thousand days of
passing years, the eyes will feel a
sparking, I will remember you,
my dear old friends, reviewing
the where, the when, which will
flush, outing the whys
from my
memories

more than the poetic liturgy composed,
but what felled me to my knees,
yearning,
for the soup of love and passion,
pain+no gain, euphorias rising at the
trenching lows of depths
newly explored, hope returning after a
long time abandonment, the
excruciating ecstasy
of creating, the killing tedium of
months of no inspiration but the
glint of a possible tomorrow

but you knot all this,
so come to tell you,
long after the poem
encased in yellowing
emerald unwrapping
aging megabytes, more
than any old poem itself,
I wil remember what you
wrote in return, with insight
all we are, we are an interaction
a petrified yet living petri dish of
creatures re/anew,
r e n e w e d, and I am
young again

and the tears of yore no more,
fresh flowering droplets of
a longer than believable age,
factuals of the sweet,
you will move once
more, remaking me
your lover devotee

       and I wil stumble;
       the woman enquirer
       am I ok, whimsy
       respond never,
       never ever better
       my darling

and I lift a tissue
to erase the evidence
of my happy melancholic
existence, and start another
conversation with you, but no!

one of us long gone, name
erased, poems left behind,
orphaned children, them
and me left alone while
I will be remembered,
by remembering you,
our second of union

as it
reverberates, our amour
reunion is a wetting,
giving forth a burst,
a fluid sac,
again
9-20/20~24
7:29an
else Sep 2024
These white lights shine too bright for my

poor dead eyes, and the man’s ramblings, he

held my eardrums hostage. Then came a sudden squall, she

engulfed me in one heck of a waterfall.


Faint moonlight peeked at the end of a musty, darkly lit stairwell we

saw each other and laughed at our equally drenched clothes, our

wet hair. As sewer rats, we scurried to rescue potted plants, we

whipped *****, thuds on white walls, with sticks and knives and all. We

rolled on the floor and nearly got concussions, sprained ankles. I

remembered how to fall again, to do it all in one fell swoop.


I know my body was mine, but now it is also yours, so we

danced, barefoot, twirled in our arms, caught each other, ate our

mother’s mooncakes while the storm rages on somewhere, outside. We

smiled, mouths full with black sesame, white lotus, egg yolks, our

laughter echoing under this gentle white light, upon this warm wood.

This conversation spins nothing, but this means everything to me.


We walk under the damp, stale, starless sky, remnants of the squall. You

suddenly proclaimed that all stars have gathered for me,

and it is my stage, my game now, so I

went home smiling despite it all. You

don’t know that this mid-autumn night was all I ever dreamed of.
Happy mooncake day :D
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