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I sit alone in the dark
Will you turn on the light
Will you burn oh so bright
So I learn to feel right?

Overcome by the fright
Now my chest's feeling tight
I scream into the night
What is wrong and what's right?

From the shadow's, a glow
Hear a voice I don't know
My own fairytale show?
Nope, it's just an echo (echo) (echo)
Written: October 11, 2018

All rights reserved.
Khayri RR Woulfe Aug 2017
I can't hold on,
I can't let go...


I keep on breathing
But each breath is suffocating.
My heart keeps pounding
But in my own blood,
I'm sinking.


I wanna hold on,
I wanna let go...


Smiling if I'm sad.
Frowning when I'm glad.
The past feels like a dream,
The future, a nightmare.


I'm not holding on,
I'm not letting go...


Here's the feeling I can't express:
There's a fret I can't suppress.
Words, thoughts
I've been screaming to you
Come back as whispers
Like I'm talking to my echo.


Tired of holding on,
Afraid of letting go...


I don't wanna die
But I keep on killing myself.
I need a reason to live.
I need the sun to wake me
From my restless sleep.


I can't hold on,
I can't let go...


Hands stuck in the solid air,
Standing on waters, crystal clear.
Hanging on to the nothingness,
Begging for help from the emptiness.


If I did hold on,
If I do let go...


If I fall deep into the sea,
I only wanted to see:
If I disappear,
Would anyone care?
Shed a single tear?
Pull me up here?


As the gravity drags me deeper...
As the light vanishes from my sight...
As the waters conceal my tears falling...


As I keep on holding on,
As I finally let go...
As I talk to my echo...
And drowning...
Written
11 September 2016

Revised
15 November 2018

Copyright
© Khayri R.R. Woulfe. All rights reserved.
Erin Suurkoivu Oct 2016
Be a voice; not an echo*

somebody had written on the wall.

People are in love with echoes,

reverberating off walls of canyons,

in love with the sound

sounding off.

Nothing for me, they decide.

Nothing for the girl, lifting her hand

to caress the branches of trees

hanging overhead.

They want the familiar sounds

of girls

sounding off.
Tanay Sengupta Sep 2018
How do I dream?
When all I have is fear
Like water running down the stream,
I am bleeding into tears.

What do I say?
When there is nothing left
My soul has been taken away,
And I can't even apprehend anyone for this theft.

Why should I run?
When there is nowhere left to go
In the beginning, it was just fun,
Now I don't know who is my friend and who is my foe.

Where does it go and where does it end?
If you know then send me an echo, my friend.




















Tanay Sengupta, Copyright © 2018.
All Rights Reserved
When life takes a turn,
Melancholy rises and memories burn.

Happy Reading!
Yenson Sep 2018
For our Echoing Little Red Riding Hoods
Lagging behind in the Opposition Departments
Lets help you out by  offering some buzzwords
For your important assignments even though they've
been floated around forever,

But we understand you need some help catching up
So memorize these basic premises
And please enrich your lives and utilise your valuable time
by raking your little brains to create  poems with them

Lets begin with ITALIAN , don't forget RAINBOW, LIES
is also in, add RESPECT, throw in RUDENESS, factor in
LITTLE GIRL, remember ANGEL, write about TRUST, that
much overuse term, throw in BLACK - that's quite a
popular one. Also PINK is quite up the scale, as well as HEART-
Broken ( as if ) and pleeeezee make a big fuss on LONELINESS
That's a big seller. APPLE and SERPENT did appear now and
again so trigger them as you like.

How about BETRAYAL, LOYALTY, FAKE FRIENDS and that
famous one, FOUR or is it THREE, what about BONES,
Lets not forget SKELETON or even ANOREXIC, let also
remember SCREAM, that was a scream..hahah see what
I did there! Remember GREY that has a bit of colour and
what about BUCK or even DOOR-MAT that was a wipe-off
or SUBMISSIVE another popular one.

Hmmm...what about HAIR CUT or TOMBOY or DIGITAL
those are quite good or WOODGREEN or HULL or DOG
that reared its head...woof....woof...hahahah or CEREAL,
beats me what that's about or even MONEY..though that
never was an issue, how about GOLD-DIGGER just for
drama or 50/50 which has been mentioned. Hey! don't forget
RED, what to do without that pinking away.

So please  Little Hoods, students of the Opposition Department
keep with the programme and work on these pointers
***** your little brains and write poems like crazy little ants
Your contribution is valuable cause persistent is the Key.
Keep up with your assignment and forget all other things
Oppose, oppose, oppose, work those little brains!
Jesse stillwater Apr 2018
A thrown flat stone skipped
across the snowcapped reflection
breaking the mirror glass surface;

rippling the glaring still waters
the way a trailing piano note
slowly decays to a sobering hush

A gentle puff of silence
segued into a fading
whisper's echo



Jesse
06 April 2018
M Solav Sep 2018
Please - hear my voice, your good old
Friend - is talking in to
You - let it ring inside of
You - let words echoe in
and Through.

Please - hear this prayer of a
Child - you once were, don’t let the
Tide - of this moment sweep
Aside - and the water'll flow out
and Through.

It’s not time to start over;
The bridge's almost done.
Can't you see from where you are;
That good ol' sun rising on the shore.

Please - the other side isn’t
Far - nothing else's ever
Achieved - carry yourself a little
Further - let your legs walk across
and Through.
Written in July, 2016 - for a friend going through hardship.
Zell Mar 2018
Roses are red,
Violets are blue.
If i said i miss you,
Would you miss me too?

I have three words to say,
words that echoed in my mind today.
I'd like to say them now,
But i don't know how.

Would it be too much to say it again?
I don't even know if i can.
Should i should say i love you?
Or just resist the urge to talk to you.
© 2018 D.A. Barreras
seethroughme Oct 2009
disillusion
stings
and the echo
rings
in perpetual
anticipation
of inevitable
unreachable
expectation
we are human
and we will hurt
Wai Phyo Win Dec 2018
Desiring mumurations, or solitude
What an absolute
Such a possible, impossible truth
Now beyond the age of youth

With the sounds of the inaudible
Crossing obstacles
The road;  horrible
Can our souls be bondable?

Times passed; not wanting to be regretted
From this sight; don't want to forget
The battle; don't want to conquest
This life; many things to confess

Head in the clouds, my feet on the ground
I hear sounds: your voice, astounds
I doubt I can turn my life around
Life: a merry go round

Just take it slow,
Feeling my head on the pillow
Life takes me round and round like a merry go
Here's to you, cheers, one more go
Marco Buschini May 2017
I do solemnly swear,
That forever more,
I shall live in a world
Free as one together.
A world that consists of
Pure pleasure,
And unequivocal harmony.
That will last forever,
In a month of Sundays.
And so from this day forth,
I shall exude the richness
Of the heavens,
In ways that are applicable to life  
In the most profound way imaginable.
Which will inevitably,
Echo forever more
In the laughing sounds
Of matrimony.
Blessed my velvet tongue
For I speak the weight of gold,
And sing like an angel,
Whispering enchanting dreams,
And dancing on clouds.
Nathalie Dec 2018
She dashed around in a daze

Visions of fireflies everywhere

Spiraling and dancing in twirls

A sentiment of love in the air



The ocean breeze soothed

In melodic waves

And the mountains peaks

Still echo in hymn her name



The radiance of her smile is captured

Through streams of footage

Enabling moments and memories

Of her dear life to be revived



Not a single day goes by

That her remembrance

Is not fondly remembered

By those that loved her


~Nathalie
James LR Sep 2018
The echoes of the sea still ring
Lost praises no one heard them sing
They die on cliffs of stone and glass
Black smudges circle in the sky
To find the echoes come to die

The water like the sky is soot
And trees will ne'er again take root
The dark of night, the light of day
Once echoed in that silent sky
Where every echo comes to die
patty m Nov 2017
Sharp evening birds shadow the sun
setting across the water;
in dreams the ocean
comes to full river.
Many times we've climbed this bridge
weeds changing the color of the water,
stirring glints of conversation
the uplift in the veins
beating a flight to autumn.

I hear your string of broken bird call
raucous and wild
as years turn it to echo;
Startling paleness
a reverie of winter's chill
how boneless is bird flight.
the solace of wings.
                    
Now there is only one
                                      where once there were two.  

          clipped wings
          the imprint of fossils
          the rain's guilty tones
          smearing the dirt

Planks wobble,
                            set as they are
                                                    haphazard­, uneven.

Now there's a blur of impressions,
                                  the nonsensical strings in a litany of sound
                                                           ­                                 
Today,
. . . reflecting on  you,
I walk this bridge alone, touching air no one else can see,
                 one step at a time,
                                           learning to be ME.
Gary Brocks Sep 2018
1.
There was the tremor of leaves,
a rustle of bayonet grass
parried the multihued calm
of dawn's smeared light.
"This is what we trained for," the captain said.
We hunkered behind stacked bags of sand.

2.
Filigreed shafts of light pierce
the bullet perforated leaf canopy,
bellowed yells punctuate the swirl
and buffet of turbulent air:
“Contact”,  “2 O’Clock”, “Incoming”, “
"Moving”, “Reloading”, “Ammo”.

3.
Fingers twitch, the grit of soil
twisted through their grip;
moon slashed carcasses glint, spent shells,
Earth exhales a vermillion mist,
rising, echoless, in this
a cathedral of leaves.
180926F
In dark rooms
My figure emits
Familiar shapes
Erie shadows
Sound of my voice
Carries a known tone
Haunting notes
A glance in the mirror
Freezes my stare
A reflection of me
An echo of you

-JCM-
When you lose a parent they never really die. We are an echo of them.
from the ragged summit of Stac Pollaidh
down to the point of invisibility
I wish to lose myself here in this sacred place
which has possessed me

oh, I climbed here huff-puffin a human being
like all the rest making our way fast
past little bits of gum and cigarette ends
my heart pounding on the scramble

to find this, a place where wolves open the sky
shall you not open your eyes
there's nothing that can prepare you
for the everlasting ken

to breathe like this inhaling water from below
like a fish yet to be swimming
      among the low clouds
blessed as the stars, yes, of course
yet a Highlander's measure more in the knowing

that She owns me
in surrender to be nothing
I suppose like death's howl takes you
awakening everyone but the dead, being you

or perhaps as the promise of The Way suggests
this crag I know without hearing its word
is beyond the reach of death
      for death cannot touch it
and maybe as promised ourselves
      doesn’t touch us at last

be it known we are here together as friends
as heaven is known when you see it
never wish to leave it for the heavy airs beneath
cry like a baby to leave Her arms

to waste away here at what’s been brought to us
having ascended wish the whole earth
to stay and to go on to nothing nothing
to be the echo
> Special thanks to author Meredith Stoddard and preeminent Gaelic language authority Àdhamh Ó Broin for their help with the voice and attention to detail. The one mistake is my own, and intentional.

> As published on Dark Horse Appalachia
Ashley Chapman Sep 2017
Sandwiched in layers of liquid crystal display,
Encased in vats of plastic,
                          
                            we
Voyaging in data-spheres, plumes of digital play.

Mindless,
         In the soup of silicone,
                            
                            all
Myt­h-makers,
         Pouring over electro-spawned
         networks,
                            
                            fall
Workers,
          In the buzz of bits and bytes, of
          megabytes and terabytes,
                            
                            down
Everyone
          Far from the wood, the brine, the
          mud that caked us,
          In tighter and tighter
          digitised  projections,
                            
                            click!
‘Like me’,
‘Share me’,
‘Leave your comments.’

Messages smoothed out in polymers,
Beyond reproductions of ourselves,

                           enter:

Deeper, delving in the mire of dream-conscious,

Now a waking voice,
          Hardened, digitised, recorded in
          bubbles, in drives, in clouds:
                        
Numb numbers of numbers numb,
                          mirror.

          A platform slotted home:
The motherboard!
          To record the echo in the hollow
          of our Being.
Wrote this a while back. It was published in The Tunnel Magazine, which was great. Anyway, hope it gets a wider audience.
English Jam Mar 2018
[Part the First]

There's some giddy, childish sensation
The hope of a new generation

Faceless cameras war for my voice
A flashing ocean of stomps and shoves
Taken from me is my choice
Given is a false sense of love
They smile too wide to be true
Contorted and stretched, like some plastic
But they're all I have before the blue
So deep breaths, and then come dramatics

People who pass me by
Don't seem to realise
The emptiness of the sky
They just need to see me sign

They ask:
Is it lonely up in space?
Is it a cold, abandoned place?
Is it bright amongst the stars?
Do you know who you really are?

[Part the Second]

My life has faded to drunken thoughts
Reality doesn't confirm what can't be bought

The multicoloured psychedelia
Of nebula turning to rainbows
Now looks more fake than ever
And so my sanity goes
There's a beast out there, lurking
I'm not sure if it wants me
But my hope is hiding, sulking
From the abyss that can hear and see

The worst way to die is alone
Where there's no one who can help me
As my punishment destroys my home
At least, from my memory

They screech:
It's so lonely up in space
It's a cold, abandoned place
It's too bright amongst the stars
I think I'm dreaming too far

[Part the Third]

The faintest echo of laughter
Presents itself as my only answer

It's distant, like someone drowning in ecstasy
But it rings from the walls to my ears
The effect of the starry-eyed seas
Has mutated into whimpering fears
I know I'm not amongst the stars anymore
But the damage cannot be undone
So I gave myself to the floor
I could lie here, and never see the sun

Space could've never actually existed
Just a vivid fantasy of escape
But my mind has been so twisted
It must've been the cruelty of fate

They wonder:
Was it lonely up in space?
Was it a cold, abandoned place?
Will the stars ever forgive?
Do I still have a life to live?
Steven Oct 2018
What I visioned was warmed steel winds - brilliant soft glow
crystal Autumn light at the center of the heart
the rush of slow rains pulled away from its quartzed source
to let dance a sacred stray
away from the lucent ****
born herself to those turned monuments in our memory
an echo - the innocent born from the energy of a new Spring  -
quenched of a natural thirst
allowing a climb
like ascending fire dust from logs spent in the night -
Electric light.

What I found was that glow
but distant
the Autumn light absent its blare
The innocent echo dulled
because it was the idea that was the love affair -
not Electric - but Citrine light
like deserts  - magnetic to view yet ambitious to live
The quite crescent of ocean
absent the meld of sunned foamed height  - A liquid soar
or beiged meadows
the slightly felled allure of Sycamore.
Jesse stillwater Aug 2018
Out here in the fields of the distance
whither the wind blows the silence further afield;
roughhewn footprints show a windswept pathway  
from whence feral feet lightly trod   

Only the passing whispers chase after the gypsy wind:
that the silence be in quire, placed aloft like a sigh,
pealing through the gentle sway of sweet grass' hush

There are no walls need echo an evanescent wind-song
as each breath of earthen psalm vanishes
lilting into the crystalline quietude colour;

The callused patience still held in these hands
is frayed and tattered, but hope heals stronger
than a ream of paper wings to fly away

And I'm mindful I'm not alone again, lost in
a lingering silent storm — pensively listening —
enraptured aneath all the big skies hold
 

                    Jesse Stillwater
Thank you for reading: Out here in the distance
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