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Chris Saitta Jul 2020
She kept bed-side by me all along,
Her prayer like a flower behind my ear,
Asleep, I think I hear the petals fall.
Kvothe Apr 2020
A simple spectre wrecks the calm.

O' Sleep, his absence bids the morn.

His dreams he seems to scatter far,

yet leaves my bedroom door ajar.

Although I grip, he slips my palm,

and so I greet the ruthless dawn.

O' Sleep, I'll leap at where you are,

because I've counted every star.
Michael R Burch Mar 2020
by Rabindranath Tagore
loose translation/interpretation by Michael R. Burch

If you refuse to speak, I will fill my heart with your silence and endure it.
I will remain still and wait like the night through its starry vigil
with its head bent low in patience.

The morning will surely come, the darkness will vanish,
and your voice will pour down in golden streams breaking through the heavens.
Then your words will take wing in songs from every one of my birds' nests,
and your melodies will break forth in flowers in all my forest groves.

Keywords/Tags: Tagore, translation, Hindi, patience, heart, silence, night, vigil, morning, voice, golden, streams, heavens, songs, birds, melodies, songs, jubilation, flowers, forest groves, mrburdu
annh Aug 2019
Clothed, I, in robes,
Sanctified by charcoal deities;
Widowed of this world,
And as yet unborn;
Mourn the galloping pulse,
Of the passing night divine.
‘Learning to weep, learning to keep vigil, learning to wait for the dawn. Perhaps this is what it means to be human.‘
- Henri Nouwen

‘The robe of flesh wears thin.’
- John Buchan
K Balachandran Dec 2018
Winter wrench snuggles,
Moving fingers stoke fire;
****** vigil.
Darren Apr 2018
Trembling hands grasping bow
Flowers laid on ground below
Candles burnt and tears flow
Balloons in hand, we let them go

Glass remains amongst the tree
Bark stripped back, in memory
Stories shared for all to see
High emotion, running free

The sun descends in golden sky
I feel your presence walking by
Fading son caught my eye
Waving back, he said Good bye

By Darren Wall
Henry Koskoff Dec 2017
my fingers
are coated in a smooth
transparent film

of wax
from my own
mini candle

wax is
in fact

in the crevasses
the skin
of my palms

about the thighs
of my pants

because i
have been childishly
crumbling it

unlike any of my surrounding
more mature

i'm anxious
and sad

the now-desheviled stick
then brings me
to tears

when the lights
and the flame

is passed around
like blessing
and hopes

in the
crisp wintery evening
in this church

the flame
only rises
in silence

the silence
is sharp
like a needle

it weaves
through the hearts
of the crowd

there are so many
and yet
it is silent

and the candle
is now
crying as well

milky fat tears
that tumble
and harden

in thin air
defying the laws
of physics

and everything
is dark and silent
except our flames

those flames
they only
Pagan Paul Nov 2017
He lays in peaceful repose upon a sheet of satin,
she moves up to his body and curls into him,
placing her head upon his unmoving chest,
unconditional grief shown in mute sadness.
She recalls his voice filled with love and affection,
his familiar scent now gone, cold and musty,
as deaths sweet perfume hangs heavy
like a drape of choking intoxicant trance.
Moments stretch blandly into minutes of ache,
the minutes career into hours of silent vigil.
And with her head upon his unmoving chest
she exhales and whimpers her final sigh,
a last breath and she submissively slips away.
Hoping, perchance, once more to hear
her masters voice.

© Pagan Paul (25/11/17)
Carlos Oct 2017
They stay vigil, ever waiting the new design of sigils.
Kinda simple, keep their fingers pressed to pimples,
The pus a pit of petered parts,
Perceived by the reckoning of depleted hearts.
I rushed the doors at the sound of a great escape,
The process a repeat coordination of hurry up and wait.
Ever balking at the atrocities of cost,
Average Joes chasing dreams at the velocity of sloths.
How to be content with immense disparity?
Hands out faking quivers, shaking for some charity.
Forsaken someones somewhere surviving on a sliver,
Watching all the getters, I see myself a giver.
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