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Shanna Mar 9
Saudade bear whispers softly
To saudade lady moon
By which he used to gaze
By which he used to croon

Saudade bear has hearts 'stead of eyes
But each night he cries
To saudade lady moon

Saudade lady moon
She tries and tries
But all the saudade persons
Pile up and loose their eyes

Saudade person
Become saudade wishin' man
Then his eyes fall out
Right into his hand
He throws 'em in the wishing well
Under saudade lady moon
By which he used to gaze
By which he used to croon

Wishin' well is fishin' well
Where people come to eat
But eatin' days are over
And croonin' days all done

Saudade bear
Become just bear
Flat an' coarse, his small paw girth
Bring no more saudade birth
you can talk to me anytime you'd like what u waiting for??  :)
your skin clinging to your bones and your veins protruding but
i still think you are beautiful
you were longing to die and i was longing for life
just one more month
but you couldnt do it
uninterrupted saudade
trying to come to terms with the idea that you dont exist anymore and trying to accept feeling like i dont either
but its what you needed
so frail and gentle as always
too tired to live
but this grief hurts more than i expected
i always thought i would be okay
i just feel continuously lost without you
oh how your presence feels vital
for you are home now
Talis Ren Dec 2018
i. saudade
ii. a deep melancholy
iii. an unmarked gravestone
iv. yearning for something that is not there
v. dreams of faded photographs, scribbled out snapshots, a nagging
vi. a light you don’t remembering turning on
vii. reaching for nothing
viii. nostalgia
Victor Marques Aug 2018
A noite chega com gemidos e lamentos,
Eu com a vida em torno de ternos
momentos,
Se nasce em qualquer lugar,  vivemos com sonhos para realizar,
E eu aqui sentado com o pranto e o luar...

A lua hoje é plena e observa  todos os seres que vivem para sempre morrer,
Uns acreditam outros não numa vida sem tristeza em eterna comunhão,
Pedaços de saudade de quem partiu sem por vezes querer...
Jesus Cristo foi vinho, foi pão, foi a única esperança para a vida,morte e ressurreição.

A vida foi aquilo que quis ser, pois pensamos que tudo podemos fazer,
Nunca temos a verdadeira preocupação que nascemos e vivemos para terra tornar a ser...

Com o canto dos grilos e com a terna saudade de quem foi vivo e nos deixou,
Me abandono ao mundo, ao céu e a Deus que tudo criou.
Victor Marques
Aayasha khan Aug 2018
A nostalgic feeling, its always with me. Keeps coming back in tears after every bad dream. They are a part now, never letting me be alone..
     I get strange feelings of loss. Loss of something, someone, every moment its in my heart.  
Night before i had a dream of him again.  His face was same as I saw him last time, how I wish It wasn't a dream.
      But I too wish that it wasn't reality, cause if it was it would really hurt, more than I can ever imagine....
      Never clear...  these dreams never let me surface, I go too deep into the abyss and  i am lost there unable  to reach anyone, unable to reach him.
      I see him angry all the time like he won't talk to me, this takes away all of the life that's inside me.
Leaves only tears of emptiness.  
       Don't know who cut me, but I was hurt really bad.
Maybe those wounds on my body defined the ones on my heart, the intangible ones.
        I saw him there, along with my other friend ..
 We were in some place unusual. He didn't bother even to look at me.  Then suddenly I was wounded really bad.
        Every one there was indulged in some game or play. 
 I didn't feel like it so I thought of jus walking around, then heard that he was also not there, and was gone somewhere, so  I decided to look for him and jus started walking.
I walked away from our gang  but couldn't spot him anywhere
I was scared, ..
hurt on my back which bled..
I just kept walking past the lake and around the grasses...
Then I saw him, there he was standing on a bridge looking in the opposite direction.
              I called him" chand"  and he smiled at me for the first time.  It felt so nice to see him. We were silent for a while before he said" you really did come".  
I was all stuck there..  Don't know what I felt.  It was so real, His voice as if it was him,  Standing in front of me.
But that's not possible my mind revolted.
And I woke up, to find my self alone with only my pillow that could soak my tears.  Controlling my harsh cries and trying not to wake mum and shifa up, I lay there..  Trying to sleep again. ..
Maybe this time I could talk to him more.
Or maybe thinking that atleast there in my dreams everything would be ok.  
No, I just couldn't it was as if a lump was stuck in my throat, I couldn't breath, I couldn't even think why I was crying so hard.  Actually​ I wasn't able to understand myself for so long now.
           This is not the first time I can't sleep, or  i I am crying, or laughing just for show, or pretending to let go, or thinking everything will be ok but he never goes away.
Even though I have pushed him away so long  long before....
Its been a year almost. Such dreams are so common, they are a part now..
            
Thinking about him I fell asleep after a while.
Hoping I would see him again..  And I did, astonishingly.  
We were jus walking on the side of the river. He saw the bruise on my shoulder and placed his hand softly on it.
 I turned to him with tears in my eyes, and saw his eyes filling too...
I didn't see him anymore than that but I believe some dreams are worth living for..
A dream can be so real sometimes..
No place to hide
No place to go..
Jonathan Surname Aug 2018
In the afternoon of a Sunday evening, all painted
in the dust lingered in sunshafts, a giant
though smaller in person, entered my life.

She spoke in common prosaic, until she didn't.
And when the sunshaft lowered itself as sun did
in the evening horizon; so did her native naivety.

She met once, or more, a man who with hands,
acted as God. And in her life he swelled around
her heart a strangling deluge. Inundation of temptation.
Regret like the pirouette of dust as faltered in dusk.

By now I saw her stature as looming shadow,
and in moonlight I read her leylines.
Runed with the abuse of self and worth a penny more,
than the collection plate gathered at friend's expenses.

I watched a stumble in her walk that never molested her gait.
In her a sprezzatura, and finally, a person deserving of the word.

She woke me with a lantern, once, and pointed to the halo--
the beam encircled as accretion disk, the darkness pulled
and we were the gravity.
And so danced the dust, again.

As of many thoughts, and her my imagination, she had to leave.
A must. A certainty. And I will never be the same.
With each stitch I sew, forevermore, her will shall exist braided within.

Somewhere in the sinews of my chasm breaths beats in pace with love.
Saudade creeps into the same cavern, now darkening;
sonatas with no moon,
shafts with no dust,
art with no art.
Dan Beyer Jan 2018
I love you
A gentle kiss on the temple
A goodnight wish made simple
Arms wrapped round tightly,
And a sigh before they're gone.
Tenho saudades tuas. (I miss you)
I loved you.
"It feels like it's only been one night before you were swept away."
This poem is completely based around my favorite word Saudade. It's a Portuguese word that describes a deep sadness and missing of someone or something but also happiness for the memories.
Sagar Apr 2018
Your gaze
Had more love
Than any kiss I shared with anyone else

Your smile
Had more warmth
Than any hug I got from anyone else

Your laugh
Had more ecstasy
Than any ****** I had with anyone else

Your company
Brought more contentment
Than anything I got from anyone else

Our conversations
Had more life
Than anything I did with anyone else
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