#vestiges - Hello Poetry

No one knows? Acceptance and defensive gaiety Sour old bills and chills we owed Saving the world from a talk, with anxiety Are we decent, are we found... For a simpler song of choice? Taken reasons, we prefer by the sound Of another kindness, that is a voice... Western purposes In the mind, and the ease of a heart Since to realer cans, and uses Will such a dramatic survival, start? With everybody knows Added courage, in the fate We directed to the wiser in soul... Who, try yourself, when the world is asleep? Ancient men and women, with secrets for pillows Saked a truer finish to more wishes, than a child could earn... Arranged in the now, wasn't a clashing eye to borrow? Saving tears from a chosen may, are we time to learn? Tales of call and response, to a rhythm in heaven Like sincerity is to be... And couth is a walking age, made to fit for a living Why not peace, love and understanding...?

0

Jul 27, 2024

Jul 27, 2024 at 3:48 AM UTC

david-hilburn

And The So, Only Found With More

No one knows? Acceptance and defensive gaiety Sour old bills and chills we owed Saving the world from a talk, with anxiety Are we decent, are we found... For a simpler song of choice? Taken reasons, we prefer by the sound Of another kindness, that is a voice... Western purposes In the mind, and the ease of a heart Since to realer cans, and uses Will such a dramatic survival, start? With everybody knows Added courage, in the fate We directed to the wiser in soul... Who, try yourself, when the world is asleep? Ancient men and women, with secrets for pillows Saked a truer finish to more wishes, than a child could earn... Arranged in the now, wasn't a clashing eye to borrow? Saving tears from a chosen may, are we time to learn? Tales of call and response, to a rhythm in heaven Like sincerity is to be... And couth is a walking age, made to fit for a living Why not peace, love and understanding...?

24

Three years ago to this very day, I signed something of my soul away; But that is love that doesn't last, And present lives the longing past, Though nothing of your face remains In aught I look at, and the pains Are well-healed scars, and I did best To put all mementos to rest, I even ceased to sing your songs, Then made them my own, for these wrongs; And still something of your prosody Remains in my voice's melody.

0

Apr 25, 2024

Apr 25, 2024 at 1:32 PM UTC

desibel3

24th April, 2021: Where is this?

Three years ago to this very day, I signed something of my soul away; But that is love that doesn't last, And present lives the longing past, Though nothing of your face remains In aught I look at, and the pains Are well-healed scars, and I did best To put all mementos to rest, I even ceased to sing your songs, Then made them my own, for these wrongs; And still something of your prosody Remains in my voice's melody.

12

I followed the vestiges of your footsteps, everything is a chrysalis of memories and forgetting. It was you, who unfolds a life halfway through my existence; I wish I wasn't there in your forgetting.

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Jul 8, 2021

Jul 8, 2021 at 9:52 PM UTC

saintplush

Forget me not

I followed the vestiges of your footsteps, everything is a chrysalis of memories and forgetting. It was you, who unfolds a life halfway through my existence; I wish I wasn't there in your forgetting.

4

as day came to end last vestiges of sunlight sank toward the west

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Mar 19, 2021

Mar 19, 2021 at 2:34 PM UTC

ElizabethSquires

Haiku

as day came to end last vestiges of sunlight sank toward the west

3

toward western hills the last vestiges of light sink as day draws down

0

Aug 2, 2020

Aug 2, 2020 at 3:33 AM UTC

ElizabethSquires

Haiku

toward western hills the last vestiges of light sink as day draws down

3

out toward the west last vestiges of day light slowly reclined

0

Jun 27, 2020

Jun 27, 2020 at 1:45 AM UTC

ElizabethSquires

Haiku

out toward the west last vestiges of day light slowly reclined

3

There are moments I wish to forget There seem to be vestiges of you everywhere That I see things not as they are But a shadow, a spark, a thread of you It's been some time Enough to think I was okay Then one day I smell your scent and your vague image slowly turned into my sharpest memory Or maybe you were always the clearest memory Which I chose to hide in the closet Because I know I couldn't forget But this is how I want to forget I wish I could open the door and not think of the last time you closed it I wish I could say goodbye without hearing you say it back And these aren't all I find myself hoping I could put all the happy moments behind Because they were hard to beat and I never felt the same Sometimes I wish I could listen to a song and not hear your voice singing it to me And read a book without seeing your delicate fingers hold the pages' ends I wish I could wake up and not see your smile shining brighter than the sun Or tuck the blankets in without feeling your arms wrapping around me But I know I know I can brave this world with just the precious memories of you.

0

May 20, 2018

May 20, 2018 at 2:28 AM UTC

idiosyncrasy

vestiges

There are moments I wish to forget There seem to be vestiges of you everywhere That I see things not as they are But a shadow, a spark, a thread of you It's been some time Enough to think I was okay Then one day I smell your scent and your vague image slowly turned into my sharpest memory Or maybe you were always the clearest memory Which I chose to hide in the closet Because I know I couldn't forget But this is how I want to forget I wish I could open the door and not think of the last time you closed it I wish I could say goodbye without hearing you say it back And these aren't all I find myself hoping I could put all the happy moments behind Because they were hard to beat and I never felt the same Sometimes I wish I could listen to a song and not hear your voice singing it to me And read a book without seeing your delicate fingers hold the pages' ends I wish I could wake up and not see your smile shining brighter than the sun Or tuck the blankets in without feeling your arms wrapping around me But I know I know I can brave this world with just the precious memories of you.

23

Leaving messages on foggy bathroom mirrors. Leaving lipstick crescents on the rims of tea mugs. Leaving the front door unlocked. Leaving, a lot.

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Aug 26, 2015

Aug 26, 2015 at 11:06 PM UTC

deryqueen

VESTIGES

Leaving messages on foggy bathroom mirrors. Leaving lipstick crescents on the rims of tea mugs. Leaving the front door unlocked. Leaving, a lot.

1

On my left wrist, My left knee & My memory I carry the vestiges of 7th May, 2010. Physical marks of, A grievous peril When I was I was on the death bed, the bed number 7. Dreaded bed it is, In the SGRH & Only those Hopeless cases with death knocking are granted 7. Only child I am, My parents Were Apprehensive about my survival from the 20-day coma. But their worries, Care & concern Paid off And today I write this poem - contrary to what the doctors had initially said. And the people, They wince At My Scars - Scared from their own instant imagination of the pain that I've been through. To some other people, I'm a living miracle And to others I am just a man who glorifies his sufferings - to his own merit anywhere and everywhere . To the ones of the last kind, I just have the words That nobody can Or rather nobody wants to change their thinking or tell them to try knocking their senses off for weeks.

0

Dec 16, 2012

Dec 16, 2012 at 11:47 AM UTC

Atul

I'm Scarred - They're Scared

On my left wrist, My left knee & My memory I carry the vestiges of 7th May, 2010. Physical marks of, A grievous peril When I was I was on the death bed, the bed number 7. Dreaded bed it is, In the SGRH & Only those Hopeless cases with death knocking are granted 7. Only child I am, My parents Were Apprehensive about my survival from the 20-day coma. But their worries, Care & concern Paid off And today I write this poem - contrary to what the doctors had initially said. And the people, They wince At My Scars - Scared from their own instant imagination of the pain that I've been through. To some other people, I'm a living miracle And to others I am just a man who glorifies his sufferings - to his own merit anywhere and everywhere . To the ones of the last kind, I just have the words That nobody can Or rather nobody wants to change their thinking or tell them to try knocking their senses off for weeks.

32