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#timepassing
A year about to die, its breath so frail, Thrilled with joy for the new, we unveil. Friends with wishes, they come, then fade, A passing warmth, a shadow they’ve made. Let not the new year be born so fast, Hold the old, let its moments last. Unfulfilled dreams of meeting remain, Cherished old days we cannot regain. Likes and comments now reign supreme, Physical touch—just a distant dream. No more a friend at a breath away, Replaced by screens that steal the day. Let not the new year stack wishes in vain, Of meetings over tea, joy unrestrained. Let this year stay, refuse to part, And heal the longing in every heart.
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Dec 31, 2024
Dec 31, 2024 at 9:57 PM UTC
The Year That Stays
Sometimes, I wish that I were different I am not talking about weight, height, or physically I wish I were the old me The nice me The one who didn't expect ulterior motives Expect to be hurt The one who was afraid to say no Or come off as mean Sometimes, I think I'm still in there Deep down Underneath the fake cloak of harshness wrapped around me Used as a shield Protecting me from the world Still protecting the old me
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May 8, 2024
May 8, 2024 at 8:31 PM UTC
Past Self
Thundering far away You want to go to play The squeezebox By the church About breathing While breathing But there is the blond one Close to you Smoking icos Writing something In the phone And the brewery is opening soon You want to talk to her But remain silent It is better to keep Your mouth shut She wears the ring You wear the ring The rib pain Over your heart Makes you tired Makes you sleep In the late spring heat The wind starts blowing The storm is coming The boys are jumping Into the water The girl is taking Her bra down With elegance Putting a light shirt on Smoking icos She folds the towel Put a helmet on And slowly leaves With orange tires On the small bike The storm is gone The warm wind is breezing Over the pond
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Aug 3, 2023
Aug 3, 2023 at 2:08 AM UTC
Clouds (2019)
It’s been over a week now, To be exact, it’s been twelve days. If we are being really honest, It’s actually been twenty nine days. But, in reality it’s been so much longer. You hopped on that plane, That I had hopped on before. Neither of us knowing how different it would all end up when you came back off the other side. We are two birds who emigrate the opposite way from each other. Crossing paths for only a day or two, Spending the rest of the flight remembering what used to be. You soar one way, I soar the other ‘Real friends, they never leave you’, If only that was true, To have a reason would make it easier Us humans, we are just like pieces of drift wood floating down a stream There is no saying if we will cross paths again, Or only have a few fleeting moments together As your wrinkles grow, You realise that life is too fleeting to be mad anymore Instead, you look at the moments from behind You mourn the friends lost, the memories missed You put down the album and let it drift away You have learnt to forgive Every now in then, You dream of your paths crossing again, But then you look around and see what you already have. Sometimes the thoughts pour in and you wonder, Will they leave me too? The thing is in life, you just never know.
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Apr 17, 2021
Apr 17, 2021 at 12:19 PM UTC
Fabulous, Fleeting, Forgiving
I sit    all by myself    again and look out    down upon the streets cigarette in hand a glass of wine upon the table love's sweet exhaustion lingering in my bones    and smell upon my skin feeling so young and yet somehow so old a late night bus drones by and takes strange people    to their desired stops in a city where I know only few that could say   yes     it's him a woman with unsteady midnight gait secretly walks her dog into the public park    both little more than blurs    of bluish white and brown    in the half-shadow    of forbidden bushes a couple leans entwined    forever in a parting kiss    upon the doorstep unmindful of the plane    that comes in low and loud    before the landing why is it that these moments    seem eternal and yet I sense the rush of time go fast    and pass me by    and her    who sleeps next door and leave us lost among our memories of what was lovely    and so beautiful    before           * *
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Nov 24, 2019
Nov 24, 2019 at 6:10 AM UTC
living - reposted
On this day I shall be vibrate. Shining bright and uncaring; Not minding ones hateful words. I shall be strong and independent. I'll talk a little too loud, And act slightly more proud. I will be happy and pleased today. Then tomorrow will come, And that day will become today; But on that day I shall be grime. Unable to stand the slightest of sound, Startled and afraid, sick of being drained. I will not be able to handle the day, And all the things that await, So I shall stay in bed and cry my life away. To concerned now of the hateful talk, Unable but wishing to change everything; Every single little detail of me. This today, is to loud, But now its all in my head; Where the monsters await for my dread. Today, will always change, But I will still be here for the next.
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Dec 3, 2017
Dec 3, 2017 at 5:14 PM UTC
Today
Pale blue dot in an endless void, This rock has turned again and the skies are swapping places once more, Regrets of things done or not done drag behind on the ground like a chain, whilst hope for the new day flies ahead and above like a kite, A day closer to death or a day well spent? Either way, tomorrow it begins anew; So turn, turn and turn again, Pale blue dot in an endless void
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Nov 17, 2017
Nov 17, 2017 at 6:25 PM UTC
Pale Blue Dot
I often use my time machine Going back and forth through the things that had passed Listening over and over words said Looking over and over the doings done But lately I've been using my time machine a lot And I think it might be broken Cause I've been going back too often To the time when I had you
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Jul 17, 2017
Jul 17, 2017 at 7:22 PM UTC
Time machine
I measure out my days in witticisms that fall As freely and pointlessly as leaves in autumn, My few amongst the countless that fall anonymously Along streets, in parks, in gardens Filling gutters, blocking drains, making homes For hedgehogs, rats and beetles. Things we **** with cars, poisons and heels.
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Apr 7, 2017
Apr 7, 2017 at 3:26 AM UTC
To wit (to woo)
The date that marks another month came and went before I had a chance to dwell on it. You're already fading, already disappearing from my mind. One day you will fade away completely, only a memory and no longer a heartache. Well darling I wish you would stay, please never stop haunting me in this bittersweet way. Because I'd rather have this heartache than let you fade away and become nothing but a shadowed memory.
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Jun 23, 2016
Jun 23, 2016 at 8:51 AM UTC
Seven Months
Without knowing how it happened A man’s heart can fail him His father gone, his spirit dampened His children near, for a while, but then Gone as meant to be Would it be worse if they stay But while longing is an empty knee The time must come for them to fly away But which pieces did they take And which pieces do remain? There is no accounting of what did break Only a heart that must learn to live again To trust once again in the sky An old friend watching as you return Is to know life becomes a cry As wings become flight and ashes an urn To wait for the next great love Is the way of heartache The time we give to what we are thinking of Is only what we decide to forsake But did my every loss soften my mind For I know of your sadness too And in it I have finally come to find That the time is now for me to comfort you
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Jun 19, 2016
Jun 19, 2016 at 1:14 PM UTC
Here For You
Wandering, passion full of reality deep, moving in motion, forgetting, just motions expression, time breathes out every cell, though someone says evil chains infect you from end to main, telling you insane, eyes wander through the moment, your life is breathing, skin sometimes grows and gets older Knives on the table clatter while people force and dishone you Breathing life like wind, body transfers movement, light shining out your actions, though fading and disolving, touches the future, in a divine moment more real than time, nothing else is seen nothing else is life
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May 9, 2016
May 9, 2016 at 7:30 AM UTC
Poem about change
bored so ******* bored tick ... tock ... tick ... tock I want to smash that stupid clock time drags on like a dress caught in thorns pulling at the soft fabric tick ... tock ... tick ... tock thats it time to die ******* clock
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Apr 13, 2016
Apr 13, 2016 at 1:56 AM UTC
tick tock
I sit    all by myself    again and look out    down upon the streets cigarette in hand a glass of wine upon the table love's sweet exhaustion lingering in my bones    and smell upon my skin feeling so young and yet somehow so old A late night bus drones by and takes strange people    to their desired stops in a city where I know only few that could say   yes     it's him a woman with unsteady midnight gait secretly walks her dog into the public park    both little more than blurs    of bluish white and brown    in the half-shadow    of forbidden bushes a couple leans entwined    forever in a parting kiss    upon the doorstep unmindful of the plane    that comes in low and loud    before the landing why is it that these moments    seem eternal and yet I sense the rush of time go fast    and pass me by    and her    who sleeps next door and leave us lost among our memories of what was lovely    and so beautiful    before           * * *
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May 14, 2015
May 14, 2015 at 10:08 AM UTC
living
Come on, Lady Luck Throw the dice, spin the wheel or draw a straw tell me which way to go which of these verses would make his heart sing for we poets are sirens driving men to the rocks & the clock waits so patiently in the corner, in on the plan & the city is a memory sketched in teenage graffiti & I'm Iggy's ' Passenger' on a never-ending train seeing my youth calling again passing by me behind cracked glass beckoning the imagination laughing, teasing: ' Are you lucky, Miss' the answer comes : silence like before the beginning of the world
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Aug 5, 2015
Aug 5, 2015 at 3:58 PM UTC
Are You Lucky, Miss
Wiling away someone else's restless hours as they serve you your elegant cafe au lait you're flicking through newspapers or maybe waiting for a friend or a lover or maybe contemplating your next masterpiece scribbling or drawing on a folded napkin or in a notebook & watching someone get out slowly out of a taxi as someone rides by on a bike & the first umbrella goes up & it starts to rain & the music is jazz or blues & you're dreaming of something just people watching & the hours pass by almost invisibly as if afraid to disturb
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Jul 30, 2015
Jul 30, 2015 at 12:46 PM UTC
Cafe
***** and forgotten, Abandoned and afraid, time goes on, Listless and lifeless, Crippled and silenced, time goes on, Steady and patient Hopeful, with faith, time goes on, Gloriously elated, Majestic and grand, time goes on, Loved and accepted, Joyous and free, time goes on, Quiet and contemplative, Peaceful and still, time goes on, time goes on,
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Apr 15, 2015
Apr 15, 2015 at 9:18 AM UTC
it goes on
You're busier than the crocodiles, Swatting at the bees, avoiding mumps and measles that carry with the fleas. In the time I could sit, and bade my day awhile, but now I've stuck to moving now, now my soul is defilled! You were busier than a ***** cat swatting at the mouse, and kicked closed, of that door, that once was our own house.
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Oct 12, 2014
Oct 12, 2014 at 7:25 PM UTC
The Crocodile