#memoires - Hello Poetry

Cher journal, Je n’ai point envie de te décrire ma journée périlleuse. Tout ce que je ne veux, c’est t’écrire des vers inoubliables, Que mon cœur, me dicte, éprit par la beauté de ce monde. Car, tu es le mémoire, qui restera dans les mémoires.

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Aug 11, 2024

Aug 11, 2024 at 6:21 AM UTC

motssans_douceur

Journal

Cher journal, Je n’ai point envie de te décrire ma journée périlleuse. Tout ce que je ne veux, c’est t’écrire des vers inoubliables, Que mon cœur, me dicte, éprit par la beauté de ce monde. Car, tu es le mémoire, qui restera dans les mémoires.

5

Driving Both of us said nothing We had to leave the house Stopping I looked at him and he at me I smiled he nodded "She is not my Karen," he said, "I lost her last May." I pressed the gas and the car moved forward So are we

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Feb 3, 2020

Feb 3, 2020 at 2:44 AM UTC

Theebeatnik

Next Stage

Driving Both of us said nothing We had to leave the house Stopping I looked at him and he at me I smiled he nodded "She is not my Karen," he said, "I lost her last May." I pressed the gas and the car moved forward So are we

17

It’s been raining all day To spaced to care about my whereabouts Been floating on this mattress, drifting between yellow lines The time on the clock glows brightly At 9:17 Dark, but I can see them Wet, walking, they're on the sidewalk While I drift on a sea of gray and yellow She is wearing a frown and it makes me sad What is her life like, walking in the rain? It's coming down hard Sadness Maybe they’ll vanish out of my view, but not out of my mind I am sorry 11-4-18

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Feb 1, 2020

Feb 1, 2020 at 4:50 PM UTC

Theebeatnik

Rain

It’s been raining all day To spaced to care about my whereabouts Been floating on this mattress, drifting between yellow lines The time on the clock glows brightly At 9:17 Dark, but I can see them Wet, walking, they're on the sidewalk While I drift on a sea of gray and yellow She is wearing a frown and it makes me sad What is her life like, walking in the rain? It's coming down hard Sadness Maybe they’ll vanish out of my view, but not out of my mind I am sorry 11-4-18

18

She walked alone Wearing a winter jacket in fall Poorly dyed red hair and old makeup All she wanted was to be loved

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Feb 1, 2020

Feb 1, 2020 at 4:20 PM UTC

Theebeatnik

Hold Me, Hold Me

She walked alone Wearing a winter jacket in fall Poorly dyed red hair and old makeup All she wanted was to be loved

7

We were young, walking around 5th avenue Two strung out kids from the burbs Sun glistening off our glazed eyes Driving around in a piece of **** with one door smashed in I remember your t-shirt It said "Send me forget-me-nots" I always gave you **** for it Sorry 1-27-20

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Feb 1, 2020

Feb 1, 2020 at 12:20 PM UTC

Theebeatnik

Winter of 08'

We were young, walking around 5th avenue Two strung out kids from the burbs Sun glistening off our glazed eyes Driving around in a piece of **** with one door smashed in I remember your t-shirt It said "Send me forget-me-nots" I always gave you **** for it Sorry 1-27-20

17

It hit hard Warm water streams through your hair It’s salty, or so you think Eyes open up, fireworks Sitting on a blanket with friends More water, though not as noticable as the first wave A tree, glowing with lights and family all around Hair wet and your shirt changing colors A field, full of trees of silver Walking in peace The surf’s up 2018

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Feb 1, 2020

Feb 1, 2020 at 1:03 AM UTC

Theebeatnik

The Surf’s Up

It hit hard Warm water streams through your hair It’s salty, or so you think Eyes open up, fireworks Sitting on a blanket with friends More water, though not as noticable as the first wave A tree, glowing with lights and family all around Hair wet and your shirt changing colors A field, full of trees of silver Walking in peace The surf’s up 2018

17

I hear you breathing in. The days are fading in. My eyes are wide open. Days speed past me. If you need me, run to me. The nights are fusing together. The mornings aren't there. My eyes are wide open. All around me are memories

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Dec 29, 2018

Dec 29, 2018 at 6:49 PM UTC

mikayla009

Confusion

I hear you breathing in. The days are fading in. My eyes are wide open. Days speed past me. If you need me, run to me. The nights are fusing together. The mornings aren't there. My eyes are wide open. All around me are memories

9

I understood I would never marry, buy a house, have kids, mow the lawn on Saturday, wash cars, clean the pool. I had an atypical plan, thinking back, for my life: a wanderer, adventurer or pilgrim without want of firm roots. Each destination a chance happening, an introduction to the unexamined. Sidewalks, cafes, alleyways, and life being lived, journaled for remembrance. The North Country, New York; Watertown, Carthage, Clayton and Ogdensburg, strolling their streets dripping history and memoirs never told. Lassoing thoughts from wild conversation with caffeinated coffee shop poets, struggling with Calvinistic thought streams and priests in moments of doubt. My theories in marble. Gently chiseled with each interaction, chipped, thoughts evolve leaving inference among spilt beans. All memories and dreams mingle. l hold them gently. As midnight creeps I’m untethered, drifting from the shoal once more. Suddenly I sense wonder: The Appalachian Trail at Katahdin, Continental divide at Loveland Pass, Mount Hood from Pacific Crest. Have you ever witnessed views of Mojave’s Kelso Dunes? Felt the Great Basin’s rainshadow chill, or contemplated Joshua Trees in prayer? Often the life of could have been is more lucid than I am, kneeling gnarled, pulling obstinate weeds. Shallow breath’d and gazing… scanning my cut grass, clear pool, a loving wife, adoring children, my home… This man, mind wandering, acquiesces, to clarity of thought. I would have… could have been that man, that other life, a Walter Mitty dreaming a life; mine.

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May 12, 2016

May 12, 2016 at 5:05 PM UTC

gga

A Life; Mine

I understood I would never marry, buy a house, have kids, mow the lawn on Saturday, wash cars, clean the pool. I had an atypical plan, thinking back, for my life: a wanderer, adventurer or pilgrim without want of firm roots. Each destination a chance happening, an introduction to the unexamined. Sidewalks, cafes, alleyways, and life being lived, journaled for remembrance. The North Country, New York; Watertown, Carthage, Clayton and Ogdensburg, strolling their streets dripping history and memoirs never told. Lassoing thoughts from wild conversation with caffeinated coffee shop poets, struggling with Calvinistic thought streams and priests in moments of doubt. My theories in marble. Gently chiseled with each interaction, chipped, thoughts evolve leaving inference among spilt beans. All memories and dreams mingle. l hold them gently. As midnight creeps I’m untethered, drifting from the shoal once more. Suddenly I sense wonder: The Appalachian Trail at Katahdin, Continental divide at Loveland Pass, Mount Hood from Pacific Crest. Have you ever witnessed views of Mojave’s Kelso Dunes? Felt the Great Basin’s rainshadow chill, or contemplated Joshua Trees in prayer? Often the life of could have been is more lucid than I am, kneeling gnarled, pulling obstinate weeds. Shallow breath’d and gazing… scanning my cut grass, clear pool, a loving wife, adoring children, my home… This man, mind wandering, acquiesces, to clarity of thought. I would have… could have been that man, that other life, a Walter Mitty dreaming a life; mine.

52

I am in a disoriented dream. too young to know, twenty years have passed almost two years and you were there or almost near. its because i'm confused or i don't understand-- my being in yours why the moon shines so bright and I exist this certain way. but you took me to a place inside four small walls, one small space, a tub, a mirror one bed, near the hills of San Gabriel and the concrete We sat in a tree and jumped a fence but emotions ran too high and I never added up quite right in your mind-- My words spoiled the truth and they stained the trust they weaved together anger and spilled tears We wanted and tried so hard for love, I relied on you you relied on me yin and yang we sat, interconnected yet opposing each other our energies combining and combating We sipped a bottle of sky in the friendly El Monte I left your side, I've left your side too many times.. but you came back pounding on the door of the Scenic , your there and I never want to let go again and your body feels perfect next to mine never wanting to leave that bed wanting to drift back to sleep in your arms but we leave this place, The Scenic becomes a memory and now thats all thats left. hoping you might still remember me.

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Apr 17, 2014

Apr 17, 2014 at 3:47 AM UTC

amelia-rose

The Scenic

I am in a disoriented dream. too young to know, twenty years have passed almost two years and you were there or almost near. its because i'm confused or i don't understand-- my being in yours why the moon shines so bright and I exist this certain way. but you took me to a place inside four small walls, one small space, a tub, a mirror one bed, near the hills of San Gabriel and the concrete We sat in a tree and jumped a fence but emotions ran too high and I never added up quite right in your mind-- My words spoiled the truth and they stained the trust they weaved together anger and spilled tears We wanted and tried so hard for love, I relied on you you relied on me yin and yang we sat, interconnected yet opposing each other our energies combining and combating We sipped a bottle of sky in the friendly El Monte I left your side, I've left your side too many times.. but you came back pounding on the door of the Scenic , your there and I never want to let go again and your body feels perfect next to mine never wanting to leave that bed wanting to drift back to sleep in your arms but we leave this place, The Scenic becomes a memory and now thats all thats left. hoping you might still remember me.

50