#riverside
I'm walking the paths of my childhood,
They hold thousands of memories,
The laughs with Clément,
The sweet flirts with Cynthia,
The tragic tears of Héliena,
The blood of Jean...
Graffitied all across,
The fields of my lovely hometown.
The sun feels shy this morning, but tries,
Honestly, in its way, to shine bright,
Yet I'm glad for the little pink hoodie,
I chose to wear, thanks to the almanac.
The center seems busier than normal,
Strange for a winter morning, I think,
But well, at least for once, it's not raining,
So I feel happy for all the dogwalkers,
And the grandmas fluttering towards the market.
Mis ojitos witness a silly sign, next to the church,
Where the fishy tattoo shop used to rest,
It alternates between a broken ship,
And a passed out drunk skeleton, holding a beer.
I laugh at the foolish name "Pain-Full Cocktails",
And question myself about the kind of weirdos,
That would ever visit this shady place,
As I open the door and enter the shop.
A smiling barista welcomes me in,
Tells me happily the offer of the day,
The "Burgundian Special" is order one have two!
Perfect timing it seems, so I oblige.
I watch the lady pick up old sliced bread,
And spread a foamy, reddish cream on it.
My heart drops, but I pretend it's fine,
It's that kind of day, I whisper softly.
As I head for the exit, soggy bread in hands,
My favourite dove appears, alongside her own.
Billions of questions swarm my thoughts,
But I don't want to bother, I just can't,
Brain goes numb, blood's frozen already,
I simply go on, free as a young sparrow,
And try to fly, mindlessly.
As I draw away, her sweet laugh resonates,
From the entrance of the funny shop.
Ah, that lovely, heartwarming song...
Waking up my soul, my fragilities...
Thoughts are racing, mind's too vivid,
So I take a generous bite of my sandwich.
Taste is awful, texture feels off,
Fingers are sticky and my lil hoodie is stained,
But I suppose we're way past the point,
It's strong enough to efface my weakness,
Plus half of it for free, great deal, I guess.
I slowly head toward the stream, dreaming,
Walking on my own, down by the riverside,
For a tender moment, that stands and lingers,
I understand all the sweet words of Agnes.
I gently sit by on the rocks and watch,
The cool water flowing, boats passing by,
The cute ducks, playing, fighting, singing,
While I munch on my cocktails,
Peacefully.
Feb 6
Feb 6, 2026 at 7:31 PM UTC
For a moment,
All I could see was the water--
At night, the lights embedded along the surface--
Shining as jewels.
The air is cold, the kind that kisses the breath of covered mouths
And gifts my own with truly visible spirit of hot air, rising into an empty night.
She's with me here--the most beautiful moment in the world cannot exist without it.
That feeling of love, warms every streetlight along the Arno
Every whistle along the Danube
They all sing, shine, in dance for you.
The years that built those piazza,
The generations who smiled upon the cathedrals
The God who lived and died
To bring us right here,
Toe to toe,
Cheek to cheek,
Lip to lip
Two souls, tangled in the vines
And drunk of its fruits
May we find love in these streets,
On these banks
Rich with the feelings
Of all those who set their feet
To the tune of these sweet winter nights.
Dec 27, 2019
Dec 27, 2019 at 6:02 PM UTC
When I had a much younger face,
I traveled to a far off place,
To a site where I fell in love,
Riverside, patch of Heaven above,
There we sat and fished a'while,
Memory lane can bring us smiles,
Golden dawn on a riverside,
Under hills where eagles glide,
Spring blooms of wildflowers,
Where we passed those happy hours,
Riverside to fish a'while,
Yes, memory lane can make us smile!
Sep 1, 2019
Sep 1, 2019 at 12:56 AM UTC
Along the riverside.
Tweeting of birds, joyously they sing.
Rushing of water, crystal clear.
The whistling wind speaks, the waving leaves answer.
The scent of nature. Indescribable.
Up in the sky, the eyes of baby blue.
Snow white clouds above greener lands,
they speak of a language we do not understand.
Sep 14, 2018
Sep 14, 2018 at 11:43 PM UTC
Trust on the road,
walking by the riverside,
crossed some trees,
and sat on the pile of rocks.
He saw loyalty walking by,
and out of curiosity asked her,
what made you visit this site?
what made you to be here?
Loyalty replied
"no matter how i am crumbled or twisted,
my devotion won't ever wither away,
i came here to soothe my mind and soul,
not to let you alone and ever to troll"
Then the trust gave a smile,
mustered up his courage and said
"I am not fragile.
I lost my way in agitation.
I became a bait to misconception.
i was thinking as a broken trust,
where i should have followed Satisfaction."
Sep 6, 2018
Sep 6, 2018 at 1:29 PM UTC
Your sacred place is where you can find yourself again and again. The great attractor. On a Sunday morning, near the river bank, soaking in sun rays filtering through wispy clouds that peek through tall oak trees, you sit on fallen orange leaves. Hint of chill still present in the early spring breeze. Calm water talking only through the language of small waves brought by soft wind. You see smoke coming out of a cabin chimney not too far away. Breakfast will be here soon. You feel excited to share sandwiches and simple joys of this morning with your soulmate. The conversation between nature and your silence only to be interrupted by the sight of your love. Radiant and natural after a great night's sleep, those glistening eyes gaze at the shimmering surface of water. You eat and you soak all scents of nature. You hum an old song. The urge to live the moment is just too strong. You want to scream out of uncontained joy but don't. Because it feels silly. Then out of nowhere ***** screams loud. Amazed, you laugh greatly and shout too. Both join in a song. Time stands still, lying with us together on dried orange leaves. Maybe that is why you find yourself here again and again. Because time slept alongside both of us lying down on the earth in embrace.
Jun 26, 2017
Jun 26, 2017 at 2:55 PM UTC
Rain falls like a lead sheet beating
ages on my back. The water rises,
but through the muddiness of the dividing sea
your light stands clear. You stand
beyond my riverside,
the birth of Venus before my eyes.
Skin like seafoam and eyes
like amber coax my hands into fists, beating
ripples into your image that not even the riverside
rain and my own reflection could rise
over. As the waves ripple across your cheeks, I stand
to remember you are also across this sea.
Caught between this love like religion, the sea
breeze makes poetry of your hair in the wind, and my eyes
have never been drowned deeper. I have never had to stand
a love so murderous; even your mirror image gives my soul a beating.
All the while, the water rises,
crashing against the riverside.
Across the riverside,
your gaze is resolute and colder than the sea.
The sun rises,
to find her light breaking the horizon with her eyes
that held back whirlpools, beating
my soul with crashing waves of division, which I can no longer stand.
Too deep to stand,
dangers of the divide bound my desire. A prisoner to the riverside.
The chains of star-crossed lovers crash with the waves, beating
my sense into sea.
Pain is no stranger to your eyes.
The beauty of the sea would always rise.
Hurricanes beat you into perfection and you rise
and stand
above the ordinary eyes.
Storm-beaten and Tempest-tossed on this riverside,
A godly daughter of the ominous sea
has overcame a beating.
Beyond the riverside,
across the sea,
my heart is beating.
May 12, 2016
May 12, 2016 at 3:16 AM UTC
Run to the river, and take off all of your clothes,
no one is there to see that you're only made of skin and bones.
Doesn't it hurt not sleeping, and starving yourself every day?
Run to the river, and wash all of your pain away.
Down by the river by the boats
Where everybody goes to be alone
Where you won't see any rising sun
Down to the river we will run.
I walk to the borders on my own
To fall in the water just like a stone
Chilled to the marrow in them bones
Why do I go here all alone
I can tell by the pain in your eyes, you never go to the riverside.
Apr 17, 2016
Apr 17, 2016 at 12:49 PM UTC
Flowing, gentle water by the sand and silt.
Glowing moon reflected by the river.
The splashes and the soothing waves,
like music to the ears.
The voices of crickets.
Cool breeze pushing her hair off her face.
Sand and stones pricking her soft palm,
feet dipped in water.
All worries forgotten, washed away,
as she sat by the river side,
gazing up, towards the heavens.
While everybody was fascinated by the city lights,
she wondered about those twinkling things in the sky.
A calming presence, away from the crowds.
A prepossessing sight she'll never forget.
Nocturnal hours by the river.
The beauty of life captured in a few moments.
An admirer of the Creator, she is.
Apr 15, 2016
Apr 15, 2016 at 3:00 AM UTC