Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
A heavy, inward sigh,
As I stare at all the passerby,
Each with their own lives,
I wonder if they think of mine?
Kai Aug 27
you stop and see
that there is more
so much more now
to everyone around

they're not a someone
not a face in the crowd
they have hopes and dreams
struggles and down days

Ever individual
we will ignore
going about life
focused on ours
Sonder is a beautiful word. It means the profound feeling of realizing that everyone, including strangers passed in the street, has a life as complex as one's own, which they are constantly living despite one's personal lack of awareness of it.
Jonathan Surname Oct 2018
What's the one thing you could talk about without rest?

Who's the one person that made talking effortless?

Where is the one that changed you for the better,

where is the one that made you your best?

When did it all occur, was it recently, or more in the past?

Is this one something or someone you wish you could have back?

People aren't things,
and also, they aren't chances.
They're the same solemnness
between the sonder and the glances.
We all have our thing and some of us may have more.
But I prefer the passions of the focused
for whom hearts with pulse on sleeve are wore.
not being rhetorical
Thomas Bodoh Sep 2018
The thousand dreams and burns and hopes and scars
That crimson phantoms, deep within the skin
Graze and raze with, betrayed by eyes like stars,
Shift and ache. Too long I looked within
For on this present dark’ning deathless day
The thousand hearts of man so pierced my soul;
I saw them all. Wild, frazzled from the fray,
Dragging, too weighed by life’s relentless toll.
Sweet sonder, teach me by the sky-wide sun
The thousand lives that glow with redd’ning force,
That burst like vineyard vats with seams undone,
That reel like sea-lost ships that miss their course.
But then that chilling truth in my mind fell:
If I can read their hearts, they read mine as well.
Dominique Aug 2018
I want to step out of myself
When I'm lying vertically on seaside rocks
Staring at the place a full moon should be
On the azure petal of a bright sky at noon
Because it would be easy, wouldn't it?

Join a different subjective reality,
Step into an opposite consciousness,
Without this heart that loves too clumsily
(It may be gold, but gold is heavy)
Without stupid desires or the weight
Of sparkling sins like bubbles in champagne
(Come on, girl, think of your grades)

Who's to say we're not a film?
A rattling picture show that keeps skipping
That lasts too long but is never enough
All I want is to have the chance to remember

That I am also a we

That I feel and I'm not alone in that
That we think therefore we are and we are therefore we think
So I try to step into the clouds
And find myself shackled to the ground
On a beach in August without sand.
sonder-  n. the realization that each random passerby is living a life as vivid and complex as your own.

inspired by a conversation I had with two friends in Brighton about how our consciousness creates reality and how we're all connected <3 I often wonder how it would feel to live someone else's life for a while.
A M Ryder Aug 2018
We have no place to go but into the light
Born into lives casted off and undefined
We get so busy living lives on circadian loan
Hoping to forget that not one among us is owed another dawn
So we count our memories like blessings
Closing our eyes as each one goes by
Painting stories seldom told of the air we can't get back
And of the lives we'll never know
Janhavi K Jul 2018
The rains lash their love on the city,
a romance that’s hard to comprehend,
as the latter soaks up the former,
I sit in my room, fighting off the mundane.

I look over flocks of people,
moving around on the streets.
Living lives I’ve never known,
and perspectives I might not ever see.

The physical limitations of my body,
hinder the limitless thoughts it bears.
I want to live a thousand lives at once,
and my mind wants to break the cage.
Chris Fernandez May 2018
The Absolute Truths of a Sonderer; a project of homelessness and homefoundness.

1. Everything we see or do is an influence
Everything we hear or say is an influence.
We must define good & bad influence, and create accordingly.

2. Our personas exist in four dimensions
At home, at work, in transience, and as digital
All require boundaries, development and love.

3. Everyone is a dreamer, aspiring in their own way.
Share your dreams through demonstration & action.
Don't sacrifice your dream in pursuit of another's

4. Celebrate the diversity of identities people can be
Enrichen your worldview with another's definition of home.
Be weary of mindsets locked to race, gender or nationality.

5. Find comedy in the world's tragedies
Deliver comfort in moments of distress
For happiness isn't opposite of sadness, but rather encompasses it.

6. There is yet to be a human whose mental health stands invincible.
Permitting another to speak may be all the health they need
Acknowledge battle scars do not lie solely on the flesh

7. Wasting your ears is as criminal as wasting words
Seek knowledge, in whatever form, when a listener.
Express love, in whatever form, when a speaker

8. One man's trash may genuinely be another's treasure
Discard people or ideas when their weight grows disproportionate.
All will be reclaimed, repurposed, and reloved.

9. Our vices grant infinite patience for stupidity,
Spirits that steal from the future to consume the present moment
Their intended use will rarely match their outcomes

10. Your value is to be as treasured as your survival
Whether celebrated or beaten, ignored or adored
It is yours alone to define, and yours alone to defend.

I love you all,
Owen J Henahan May 2018
The hourglass tips, sand pouring out,
Golden flecks of time all floating about.
I ****** at them, flailing, but catch only one -
A moment to cherish, shining bright as the sun.

But then it is gone! as quick as it came,
and I’m torn with such grief, such passion and pain!
There will be no more like it - none ever again,
For each of our moments is like a flame in the rain.

Somber, I watch, a veil of fear about me,
Afraid of what will happen when the sand is all free.
But the sand keeps falling, like Fall’s golden leaves,
I reach out to reclaim them, like Fall’s bare trees.

But soon -- too soon -- the glass is purged of sin,
The goals, the dreams, the what-might-have-beens,
Leave tortuously, weeping at what I could have done,
If I only could have known them: those minute grains of sun.
and the clock continues to tick.
Next page