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Poetic T Jun 2018
Void less echoes shimmer across
the hull, as her thoughts delve in
to the scintillescent embers of her
past. She couldn't have foreseen
that every pebble gazed downward
upon, wasn't worth the ripple of an
                             anchor without her.


Her hands held on to the metal as
if it were of meaning, caressing its
indentations. She knew every bolt
and rivet that kept her within the
confines of this place. She used to
gaze outward in this very
                                             same spot.


Memories are like stars, fading after
they have burnt brightly for so long.
This is why she came to this window.
Casting a gaze thinking of the beauty
before her, possibilities to her endless
imaginings, but then she faded
                                                   before me.

But space is cold, and now she ventures
beyond my grasp, a grain in an ocean
eternity. I look outward thinking of her
everyday. Knowing that one day I’ll be a
grain finding her
                             in the sands of time
Colm Jun 2018
I see the sunlight in the trees, the newness of the summer night.

The rich green leaves, fresh cut grass and the threat of autumn. Ever in sight.

And every root and bark and stem is reflected in the builder of my own home.

For it will be a reflection of me, my power, my arms. Finite. Strong.
Random verse.
Watch the falling of the rain
Through the dusty window pane
Life's out there, a lost soul
Coming through the rain
I see him pushing in vain
The storm is too angry to let him pass
But still I see the falling rain
Through the dusty window pane.

This house sometimes leaks
Leaving stains for weeks
Claw marks down the walls
It's what the dampness seeks
That confuses me from house to leaks
I've thought of hiding them
But they show upon the window pane in streaks
What funny little freaks!

On sunny days there is no sign
And I forget that window confine
Life's with me, a restless soul
Pushing at the living vine
I see him and know the sign
That sunbeams whistle out a tune
Dusting out that little memory of mine
Just so that I know, with me it's fine.
japheth May 2018
i’ve been
staring at this view
outside my window
for almost a year now.

i’ve had
countless of cigarettes,
nights where i just stare at the open lights in different buildings,
listened to the sounds of cars passing by,
cried and laughed so much while holding my phone scrolling through whatever app i’m in.

this view —
of numerous buildings,
of countless cars driving,
people as small as ants walking,
of the distant mountains from a province i’ve probably never visited,
of the clouds,
of the sun,
of the moon,
and of the stars —

i consider them as my friends.
a friend who just watches and listens to me.
a friend who sees me at my worst when i shed a tear for a mistake i made,
and sees me at my best when i smile for no reason at all.

sadly, in a few months i’ll part ways with this view.
it’s not a pristine view like the beach,
or on top of a mountain,
but it’s definitely a view that makes me stare at it for a long time.

reminding me of everything i’ve done:
my achievements,
my mistakes,
my regrets,
my doubts,
my fears,
my everything.

i’ll miss you most definitely.
i was staring at the view from my plce and since i’m moving out, i’m definitely gonna miss it.

i prolly gave 0 justice to how beautiful and helping the view is to me for all the things i’ve been through but i hope you get it.

we all have that one view that we always look at that never fails to make us smile.
Batool May 2018
Pouring rain
on window's pane
a coffee mug
to keep him sane !!
uv May 2018
The window that I can see,
Has no good view
But the glass in its paneled frame
Gives a look thats quite new.
The window has two bifolding shutters
Giving it a charming look
And the white European grill outside it
Makes it as interesting as written in a book.
Though minimum light filters through this window,
It certainly has a charm.
The artificial plants hanging outside them,
Gives it colour and a refreshing sort of calm.
Writing a rhyme for just about anything in your sight gives  you the power to make anything beautiful, to make the simplest of things sound magical and give depth to things that are otherwise taken for granted!
Kitt May 2018
I sat by the window and gazed out
at the rain falling down
in torrents and sheets.
The night was black as ink, save the stars;
barely visible behind thick storm clouds,
pinpricks of silver in the ebony scape,
as the rain continued to fall.

I thought of you, of the deliberation in your face
etched into every feature a painful, wavering resolve.
The decision before you:
two fates, the ending, or the prolonging of the time before the terminal predetermined.

I grieved as I remembered the pain in your eyes.
I know you too well. I have seen too much of you
for you to hide this from me. I broke
-a silent cry of realization, collapsing my furrowed brow into a contorted countenance
as I realized that you were gone
not just for now, but for good.

And so there I sat that night,
after I removed the gold chain you rested around my neck
after I scrubbed away the makeup
after I traded my lipsticked smile for a mourning countenance
-I sat, alone in the dark, and gazed out the window into the rain.
I wondered where things had gone wrong.

And so, May showers
drove away April's flowers.
It was all I could do to cry quietly,
face soaked with the saline of sadness
that dripped now on my chest.

Now, I sit again at the window
and the same song plays that had consoled me before
'you'll feel better when you wake up'
And I did.
The sadness stayed safely at the bay
while I tried to channel it again
But this time it wasn't the same.
Though I duplicated the mood down to the clothes I wore,
the heartache was no longer fresh
and my face remained dry.

Sure, I felt sad. But it was not from you.
It was not from a heartbreak or a brokenness.
It was inorganic sadness, brought on by my own need for closure,
the thirst for a goodbye that burned my throat in agony and sorrow
that my parched lips would never find.
Song quoted: "Wake Up" by EDEN
Amanda Kay Burke May 2018
On a wooden shelf textbook waits
Harboring facts, knowledge, dates
Each year summer brings needed rest
After each final, each test.

But summer is gone and school has begun
So away with freedom, the warmth of the sun
To a teenage girl, textbook goes
What horrors await? Textbook doesn't know.

Hurled in a locker, metal slams
Smothered by a shirt that says "Go Rams!"
Shoved in a backpack, do not suffocate?
Can't miss the school bus, hurry, don't be late!

Scribbled and doodled on, "It tickles!" It screams
But teenage girl doesn't realize silence is not what it seems
Spilled soda burns; acid sweet
Bubbling suffering unimaginable heat

Left on a desk, a window so close
Pages now stick, it is so gross
With its strength the textbook flies
It has just commited suicide.
An old one I wrote for school in 10th grade
em May 2018
You remind me that I am good.
Even when I am a million miles away,
Hovering above this body I live in,
You carry in a breeze
A freshness that blows out the cobwebs
In a soft way so I don’t feel the tearing
of sticky string from the parts of my head clothed in shadow.
Thank you.
I can breathe again.
smells like jasmine & honeysuckle
Gabe May 2018
My tears fall at the sound of the rain,
Hoping you can hear it knocking at your window pane,
In every drop instill every pain,
Also the love I have been giving away.
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