"celina" poems
*Kindred spirit, the privilege is mine, it's just that I,
I never finish because there is nothing going on, nothing to go on.
All right, all right, all right,
you're right,
I don't write as much as I used to,
but in all fairness (to myself)
I feel a bit more loose.
Never mean to,
but I guess I argue
a lot in order to hide
how much I really don't care;
Celina said it's not okay
but
that at least I know
it's insulting.
I only want to be in my body
when your feathery fingers graze my spine.
That tone an angel loaned
to you can ripple through
the void, make a soft,
translucent puddle out of reality,
can you see me
on the other side?
Don't say I'm angry,
it's just that
no one has ever really tried
to impress me, so I'm scared
I guess.
Remember you are here,
don't be weird about the types of things
sentimentality will bring,
will string along to the
forefront of an open sore;
no one pours the sink a whiskey
drink until the girls are crying out above the stars,
better yet, stirring them from afar
for their own faults, for being
fickle with love
and their own hearts.
You know I don't sleep much,
You know I don't dream of such
pretty things but I could imagine
how you, in a different life,
were gifted eternal wings.
Those that brought you to me.
I would weep
if I wasn't made of stone.*
Jun 19, 2013
Jun 19, 2013 at 2:06 PM UTC
Lieve Celina ,
Ik heb gehoord dat je een One Direction fan bent,
een nogal grote ook.
Er schoot Something Great in me te voor ,
Ik weet dat One Thing dat jij wilt is om *** te ontmoetenLieve Celina ,
Ik heb gehoord dat je een One Direction fan bent,
een nogal grote ook.
Er schoot Something Great in me te voor ,
Ik weet dat One Thing dat jij wilt is om *** te ontmoeten
Dus ik was Up All Night
om iets over een energie volle meid te schrijven
die van One Direction houd met No Control
en dat is niet erg want You Gotta be You
One way or another wou ik er iets moois van maken
What makes you beautiful is dat jij jezelf blijft
In de klas of buiten de klas blijf je wie je bent en dat is iets dat niemand van je af kan nemen
blijf wie je bent en One Way Or Another
zullen je dromen uit komen maar Live While You’re Young
wees Alive en Believe in your Heart
Magic Moments zijn er voor even maar die Midnight Memories blijven in je hart
Ik wil dat je Magic Moments in je leven maakt en daarvan de Memories in je hart opslaat
Leef je leven als 1 groot Moment en Happily believe in your Heart
zodat je alle obstakels overwint en dat je je dromen waar maakt.
Stand Up en wees jezelf , kijk de wereld aan en overkom alle moeilijke tijden
door altijd jezelf te blijven , een energie volle meid die toch gewoon wilt slapen
maar ze weet andere blij te houden met haar energie volle houding.
We zijn allemaal heel erg dankbaar dat je ons blij houd als je bij ons bent en
dat is iets dat niemand van je kan afnemen.
You are more than a class mate , you are a Girl Almighty
----Door Levon Tamazyan
Dec 16, 2014
Dec 16, 2014 at 11:50 AM UTC
If you think you know me
- think again.
If you say you see me
- look again.
If you think you heard me,
were you even listening?
If you say you did,
can you tell me?
What were the words I never uttered yet was fully expressed with my eyes?
What pain did my voice convey when all you saw were laughter and smiles?
Don't let your eyes deceive you
There's more to me than what you see
I do seem okay, don't I?
SUPERFICIALLY.
|celina|
Aug 12, 2014
Aug 12, 2014 at 11:07 PM UTC
You spread lies around town like a dandelion.
Don’t try to hide it, it’s written in your iris
There’s no need to cry about the crisis now
because it’s all crystal clear like a cirrus cloud.
© Matthew Harlovic
May 27, 2015
May 27, 2015 at 12:18 PM UTC
“...But didn't your mother die too?
Back before we came?”
Some thoughts, Dad?
That day for you?
How was it?
Tell me how you woke in gray –
dressed so uniformly in it
Tell me how you turned away
from all those helpless flowers on the ground
Came back empty to her kitchen
Still filled with the smells of her
Let me see her! Hear her!
Once!
With any words –
besides the ones about the meat juice on her dress
The roast flung back
to splatter rage
upon the gentle curse
I see reflect
in my own image
across the table from him...
I want to know about the picture on your bureau
Do silent eyes still tuck you in?
She has a kind face that seems unending
I understand why things have gone unsaid
Do you know?
I have been wondering
Sneaking in your room
to pull her down from heaven?
To melt the years
of frosted glass between us?
to touch her face?
To look into her grayish eyes
pretending for a moment – she can really see me
To lay my head against her calico embrace?
Celina Arnell Rodier, 1872 – 1941 (Dad's Mom)
Dec 12, 2018
Dec 12, 2018 at 1:48 PM UTC
O, loneliness, my old foe, my relentless companion,
Inseparable nemesis of mine.
We meet again, as if we never parted;
The distant space, the arc of separation, between my
Lovely Celina and I,
Brings you back to walk those steps
I take without Her, to walk them with me.
J Eduardo Ramos ©
Aug 13, 2014
Aug 13, 2014 at 12:38 PM UTC
4/7/2016
tw, suicide
you were five eleven
i thought it so elegant
you hated it though
i still see you walking down the
linoleum, sad halls
with your gown
and though you swore you
were ugly i thought you reminded
me of one of those pre raphaelite
girls.
you're dead now,
so i heard
i knew that the system
had failed you before
you even knew
you were defective,
you felt the need to be recalled
back to the mill
before you even knew that.
i saw you for a week
that's a funeral i wont be invited to
but i can't help but
think what your last
thoughts were
if there were any
i wonder if you said
goodnight to your
sister before
you did it
but i also
don't want to think
about it- the fact i
know a ghost
Apr 7, 2016
Apr 7, 2016 at 9:13 PM UTC
Para el altar de nuestro amor
Traigo una ofrenda sencilla
Un poema de amor, dos candelas
Una gardenia y una rosa de Castilla.
Antes de encender nuestras velas
Recitare el poema:
Como nosotros, muy pocos
Como nuestro amor, ninguno.
Tal vez Romeo y Julieta,
Pero ese par fueron ficticios
Creados por El Bardo
Aquel Inglés poeta
Que si nos hubiera conocido,
Tal vez hubiera escrito de nosotros.
Los dos viajamos lejos de nuestra tierra
El Destino nos guió y no lo sabiamos.
El destino?
No lo sé.
Nunca sabremos.
Lo importante es que tu y yo
Nos encontramos.
Para donde, amor, para donde?
Este amor, como la vida, es un maraton.
Despacio,
Y llegamos a nuestra meta, mi amor.
Jul 3, 2022
Jul 3, 2022 at 4:18 AM UTC