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Stranger to the audience.
Stranger in the community and the family.
A stranger to one’s own mother,
A shadow to one’s own shadow,
A foreigner in the country of one’s own,
in every land he has been in
In the town he was born in
Abandoned by hope
in every town worldwide
on every planet one could find.

A worldwise vagabond,
With disheartened face,
targeted by murderers and madman alike
Across distant deserts and seas
Windbourne with no goals or dreams.

Betrayed by everyone,
Abandoned tranquilly
“friends” fiends,
He has forgiven them,
Perished to the infinite
Never to be back again.

For noone will ache,
love or forgive,
man is a machine with nothing to give.

All life in one suitcase
unsettled, macabre
soaring across dreary universe
homeless, roofless,
with no dreams or aim,
weary of World’s pain.

Saša Milivojev

Translated by Ljubica Yentl Tinska
Yemaya 6d
Dear stranger,

when I was crying on a park bench in the rain, why did you offer out an umbrella? Every other stranger had rushed away as if tears were contagious, but you welcomed mine. Why did you go a step further to ask what's wrong? When not even those I know care to ask. We sat there in the rain until my words stopped and the clouds cleared. Why did you reach for my hand when I left? Are you too in need of a listening ear? I have known you for hours yet I feel with you I am safe, you have a stability about you, like a strong shape. Yet a roundness as well, a softness. If I believed in instant love, you would be mine.

With love,
the person crying on the park bench,
Steve Page Jun 19
Margy shouts her advice from outside Greggs
unsolicited, but often needed
usually it concerns fashion
- the choice of a scarf
- inappropriate shoes for the weather
- or the state of a pair of trousers, hanging and baring a cleavage
(“No one wants to see that, dear.”)

Margy can be relied upon to wear the same distinct socks
– draped around her stocking feet, their multi-coloured design now greyed
by wear and the Uxbridge Road.

Margy is more reliable than her friends and she tells them as much
(“You’re all a bunch of time wasters.”)
demanding more loyalty and demands from me enough for a cup of tea
- a very expensive one apparently.

And on a Sunday, she’ll kneel and pray throughout the early Eucharist,
declining the bread and wine
(”On, no dear.  It’s not a habit I want to cultivate.”)
Arvon retreat June 2022
Nina McNally Jun 16
Some days are harder and
Then there are days that are easier.
Right now is a medium day.
And it's hard to explain so
Now I'm just gonna
Go watch some shows and relax.
Everybody goes through some not okay days.
Relax. Rest. Recover.

Tomorrow is a new day and
Here will just a faded memory.
I will only remember the important things
Now and here in this moment I feel at peace and free.
Go live your life to the fullest-- Life's too short
So go live how you want & BE KIND!
wrote this back in Jan, 2022.
miki Jun 8
someone should have known better than to leave me by myself
surrounded by objects only reminiscent of a home
i thought that i could mangage it, because i wanted it to work
but maybe
not to feel like a stranger in the house you’ve known for years
just takes a little more time
so i sit
on the couch, in the very corner
the same spot i've sat in for years
and stare
at the tv that bares only my reflection
with nothing else to see

just me
my reflection in the tv
and a house that never felt like home
Timmy Shanti May 8
you dance with strangers - gifting them your smile
a treasure i called mine (if only for a while)
you laugh at perils when your life's at stake
you live the dream while i'm not quite awake

you wear your finest silks, the world is your stage
new faces every day - befitting of the age
your beauty changes hands of those who hardly care
i'm left to rue the loss, i find it hard to bear

you're dancing with a stranger - wish it was me instead
moved on so fast, you have - it's messing with my head
don't think i'm getting back that part of me i've lost
you dance with strangers - i'm dancing with your ghost
May 2022
Yemaya Apr 28
The girl pacing in the window,
biting her nails
staring at her feet,
as if she were worried
they too would betray her
like the person
who made her pace in the window.
Yemaya Apr 21
He holds his head in his hands
peeking down at his untied ***** white shoes.
Trying to block out the sound of the phone,
that holds news
he is anxious to forget.
for more look under the 'Stranger' collection on my profile
Yemaya Apr 21
She cries
reads her book
her eyes reflecting the ink of stories
her lips quiver as if she were
about to call out
to the one she thinks of
when she reads
and sits by the window.
for more look under the 'Stranger' collection on my profile
Anna Mink Mar 16
An oversexed foreigner; you
play and dom me for fun.
Prefers a physical touch: you.

Inexhaustible you claim to be,
my energetic friend,
then fall asleep on top of me.

Yet I wouldn't change a thing,
my hypocritical fiend;
you're still such a sweet thing.

~ A.M, F.H.
Edited & Published 16th of March 2022.
Written 12th of March 2020.
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