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Ciel De Verre Oct 13
You’re like a sad song in the middle of the happiest
I could have made,
the tunes they blend into a symphony
Of sweet Nostalgia,
until your song plays jarringly.
A song that has rendered me to the will
Of a poet’s apex, for the words
they bleed
when one’s soul
Rylee Oct 10
Known for obsession with heartbreak,
Turning sounds of heartbroken tears into anthems,
The words we all feel
But could never produce turned into a karaoke song
Volume as loud as it can go,
Trying to drown out memories of the high you gave me
The naive girl in the songs sounds more like me,
As I replay the red flags
With each heartbreak had
there’s a song to be played
ce-walalang Oct 10
loneliness creeps in the most inopportune time --
and we'd do anything to hide or run away from it

some would take sobriety for granted
some would keep "busy"
some would stay social -- always chasing what’s happy
but as we try, we lose our why

many things no longer mean anything
like poetry, sad songs and rainy days
unrequited love and other form of heartbreaks
and after a while, everything feels nothing

what if…
when we feel lonely -- feel lonely
when we feel disconnected -- fully disconnect
it’s probably not easy

consider our loneliest the time to
find meaning,
make sense of even the small things,
and on what really matters, continue reflecting
alternate title: the lonely prose masked as poetry
Aa Harvey Sep 25

Long hair waving in the new wind.
Time changes and it’s a **** beginning.
Bowie, I only worship one king.
All that is left are the songs we are still singing.

Heroes fall under the thunder sounds.
Waterfalls endlessly come crashing down.
Inside my own existence I continually drown.
I can never find the right way out.

Primal heart; bitten Devil man.
Longing for a new wave to send me to a better land,
Where people are free from eternal suffering.
I hold aloft the heart of endless dreaming.

(C)2020 Aa Harvey. All Rights Reserved.
Miraji: Urdu Epigram translations

I'm obsessed with this thought:
does God possess mercy?
―Miraji, loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch

Come, see this dance, the immaculate dance of the devadasi!
―Miraji, loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch

Echoes of an ancient prophecy:
when my life has come and gone,
when I am dead and done,
perhaps someone
                            hearing again in a distant spring
will echo my songs
the world over.
―Miraji, loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch

If I understand things correctly, Miraji wrote the lines above after translating a verse by Sappho in which she said that her poems would be remembered in the future. I suspect both poets and both prophecies were correct! Keywords/Tags: Urdu, translation, translations, God, mercy, dance, prophecy, song, songs, world, mrburdu
It's one in the morning.
I almost fell asleep.
But I keep going on.
Been reading about
James Taylor. He and
I are livin' the same
life, it seems, 'cept
he's been married 3
times, and I have never
been. Went through hard
times, drugs and all.
He hooked on ******,
I took ******. Both
went to prep school,
he to Milton, I at
Andover. Both of us
found them mean.
I mean to say that
James and I are one.
He was in mental
hospitals, as was I.
We vere very young.
Then he started singing
and I began to write.
In the night of life,
we we were together,
seems, songs he wrote,
I poetry. Ups and down,
but stayed the course.
His guitar and voice,
my pen and paper. He
got famous;  both of us
got well. He made millions
from songs he sang. My
poems are priceless, though,
sacred and sublime. What the
hell! Everyone has his trials.
Our verdicts were the same.
He sang songs he wrote,
I treasure my words and
feelings. James and I have
kind of met. I think we are
good friends.

Copyright 2020 Tod Howard Hawks
A graduate of Andover and Columbia College, Columbia University, Tod Howard Hawks has been a ooet, an essayist, a novelist, and a human-rights advocate his entire adult life.
دema Sep 14
when we first met
I finally understood
what all the songs, movies,
and stories tell about love,

but only now that our
paths may never
cross each other's,
I finally really understand.
beneath the ground many
thousands of souls lay

they had their lives
taken prematurely

songs of the requiem
play in remembrance

never shall the world forget
the disease's marring scar

that which dimmed a human's
light of existence
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