Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
 
Experiences
Vicarious or the ones lived
Leave a mark, indelible

The teacher said
Stretch your limits to the maximum
It might surprise you

Little surprises
Bring a delight
Some are off limits
I have always had an aversion to it
I would blurt out the worst
If you would show me pretence
Of care
Of love
Of togetherness
Of being one
No no don’t do that
I am old now
Enough to understand
Pretence
I won’t blurt out things
I wouldn’t put up to it
My duties fulfilled
There I am done
Now I know
Pretence
For the simple reason - how they make you feel
i have seen you
i have spoken to you...
with you..
in different times
in different lives

the same moon
the same sun
we touched our hearts
and our minds
everso gently
in friendship
and the will to do
what was right

in truth we conversed
about truth

we trusted eachother
not truly knowing
one another

but certainly understanding
our shared understanding

a common sense of right
and wrong
you were there for me

and you saved me
from suffocating
in a toxic pool
of deception

i see you still
in different guises
different names
different from before
but still the same

and i wish this world...

this world right here...

would know that
today i breathe
because you held my head
above the water

and didn't let me drown
if I have learnt anything from being here, it's that some are not who or what they appear to be.  And others are the only reason i come back and write anything at all..  **
Is it a good idea Tibet with your life?
And
The State they leave the place is Nepalling.
I can get irrationally angry at art, but not science.
Science is just a tool, art can betray you.
I drew stick figures
things were simple

in a pencil world
mistakes were erased
you could start over

but an inchmeal awareness nagged
- the sky isn’t gray, it’s a liquid blue

but crayons were complicated
you couldn’t erase things
mistakes were irrevocable.

and there were 148 colors in the big box
keeping them in rainbow order was work.

growing up is hard
BLT Marriam Webster word of the day challenge: Inchmeal: gradual, or little by little
(inspired by Malia’s poem ‘crack the code’)

the unspoken poems
are the loudest
the ones you don’t utter
the times you don’t bother
symphonies of silence
votes of no confidence
trust marbled with rust
what's become of us?
Do you dare to search deep within me,
reveal my darkest secrets
and uncover the truth?

I am a master of disguise,
displays of emotion are denied
enough to outwit any sleuth.

So I must ask...
Are you sure you want to see
what is behind this mask?

©️Lizzie Bevis
I wrapped myself
in your old sweater;  
it wasn't the same.
I smelt your perfume,  
the scent of sweet jasmine  
had turned bittersweet.
I whispered your name too,  
I wanted to find comfort  
in your empty arms,  
but its softness is now  
just a ghost of you.  

©️Lizzie Bevis
In the winter of
My darkest sadness
A candle glows,
Tiny and so far away.
It gives the darkness
A focal point and I
Struggle my way towards it.

Another candle lights my way.
I don’t know where it came from
But it makes a fearful journey
So much easier to manage,
And I eventually will dance
On thistledown to
The music of the Skylarks
In a sun-filled, cloudless sky.
  ljm
Working to chase the blues away.
Next page