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Purple Haze Mar 19
I finally am letting myself be free
from the thoughts of wanting you back.
I realized what I wanted isn't what you are now,
but the one you were, when you were with me
And that is gone for a long time now.
letters from the past years
Sharon Thomas Mar 10
It was September,
I left my home;
With gloves on and a sweater.

I walked to the park;
That same place we once had that spark.

I lowkey wanted to see you again,
I knew you were bad for me,
Yet it was hard to restrain.

I left everything behind,
With only you on my mind

The wind blew beneath my feet;
I noticed the trees began to shed their leaves

I felt my heart race
When I saw you on the other side,
With that smile on your face.

We came closer to each other;
The cold wind made me shudder

The autumn leaves changed colour
And they had begun to fall.

I searched for that love;
The one I yearned so much,
But alas you were out of reach,
Out of love's touch.

Seasons changed..
I saw myself in a white gown,
At my final countdown

I know we aren't in touch,
But would you rescue me
from fate's inevitable clutch.

Then at the moment,
I realised you never left my mind
We were 19 and we were entwined.

You were my summer,
And I was your fall.
The sun begins to dip below the skyline
Orange starts to tint the sunshine
Shadows stretch in shades of black
And the air cools as we ride back
-
In 1972,
Nixon shook hands with Mao
and the world turned its back on Taiwan.

In 1972,
Ceylon changed its name to Sri Lanka,
Okinawa returned to Japan,
and Jane Fonda became Hanoi Jane.

In 1972,
twin Olympics were held,
hungry tigers on wooden skis dashing
down the white slopes of Sapporo,
while the streets of Munich ran red
with the blood of slain Israelis.

In 1972,
Elvis was still the king,
Elton wasn’t quite the queen
and Prince was still a quiet teen.

On September 21, 1972,
Philippine president Ferdinand Marcos
placed my grandmother’s homeland under martial law.
I was born that day
while my grandmother wept.
Henrie Diosa Dec 2020
they stormed out the corners, the screamers, the signs,
all black. but no longer occult.
i tried to walk past all the mourners in lines,
but my heart was my pillar of salt.
can heaven forgive me that i could not come?
please carry my soul to your flame!
i’ll tend to my garden and pray you reach home —
but i know that it isn’t the same.
though clouds round you gather, each knight noble stands;
the rain is the least of the cost.
o sable crusaders, my hand in your hands,
i will march with the ghosts of the lost.
Note: This was written on the anniversary of the declaration of Martial Law in the Philippines in 1972. There was a demonstration at my university, so that we may never forget: Marcos is not a hero.
Jennifer Oct 2020
dark’s peering into day,
wonder when the dew’ll lay;
time’s slowed as skies turn static,
least the hours are less erratic.
orange lamps glow
outside a misted window;
earthy rain’s falling hard
but fire’s lit and sky is starred.
sometimes mist deceives the eyes:
seen silent figures’ quick demise.
ocean spits over the pier,
almost as grey as the Wear;
lighthouse shines it’s steely beam,
illuminating the horizon’s seam.
heaven’s sealed with wrought dull iron,
far away seems unearthly Zion;
harvest moon’s not as vague:
illuminating an eight-legged plague.
crows spectate above and below,
you’d be surprised what they know;
change leers at every bend,
nostalgia seems an only friend.
the veil is thinner than before,
perhaps open is another door;
harvest season’s coming to an end,
fields of Elysium this way wend.
CupcakesArePink Sep 2020
i dislike September
because i remember
the scent of coffee and the warmth you gave

i dislike Wednesday
because you asked me to stay
and i was willing

now the leaves are falling
and its getting cold
i'll get what you stole back

i may hate september because i remember
and hate wednesday because i chose to stay
but this time around you wont have it your way
M e l l o Sep 2020
some perfumes are fragrant as a child
others corrupted, rich, exultant wild
with all expansion of things infinite
which sings the senses and souls delight
Its been a while.
yashasweedas Sep 2020
As chaos takes over the world and death is at rise,
I feel fortunate to be alive,
To witness the meek majestic September sky.
A short minimalist poem for the month of September🍂
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