"effortless" poems
Crawling, slowly, firmly, effortless towards me.
Billowing from sea over hills,
the blue sky is envious of its charm.
What can it offer but a backdrop of blue?
Its ever morphing silhouette captures our gaze and fascinates.
Not to be revisited, once witnessed, suddenly changed.
Forever, only in memory it plays.
Lie back, enjoy it's visions,
for it is past, as quickly as it came.
Dec 5, 2014
Dec 5, 2014 at 4:34 PM UTC
*Having hardships in life is somewhat
we all have to face .
No matter how positive we foresee our lives ,
struggle towards serenity is never effortless.
We all are embedded in deadlocks of life.
Without ENDURANCE & TOLERANCE
we will collapse in gyration of dilemma.*
May 21, 2015
May 21, 2015 at 11:59 PM UTC
I saw you from across the gym and the second my eyes laid on you I knew I was never going to be the same.
Is it possible to fall in love with a stranger, because I think I just did.
Your posture resembled the self-confidence that filled your *****
Your hair a blonde hue that I have never been attracted to before.
How could it be, you already have a piece of me.
I couldn’t take my eyes off of you, you see.
For you were already starting to seep into me.
Maybe it was the idea that I can feel love like this, for someone I don’t even know.
Or maybe it is that I looked into your blue eyes from across the room and felt like I knew you.
My emotions were wired, and my thoughts gambled.
I had to remind myself how to walk and remember that staring in awe isn’t generally socially acceptable.
I can’t believe I just fell in love with a stranger.
You tossed the basketball with such grace, it sliding off your fingers so effortless. Your shoulders broad and your stamina grounded.
The way you slid across the floor so smoothly chasing after the ball that went perfectly into the net.
When the smile grew on your face as your friend shot the ball, my soul felt warm as I looked into the happiness of yours.
Your teeth, strategically placed by God’s fingers. Resembling how perfect we will all soon be.
I can’t believe this is me.
Falling in love with a stranger, what else is new.
The second I saw you I knew
My confidence was back and I began to come to life again.
So maybe you were an angel sent from God.
Teaching me that I still do have hope.
Showing me that my heart is still in enough pieces to love.
What ever the case and outcome of this, I feel happy.
I feel at peace that maybe, just maybe, someday I will lay eyes on someone and know they will embrace me for the rest of eternity.
Nov 7, 2012
Nov 7, 2012 at 3:09 AM UTC
I despise social media.
It's ugly, to state the obvious
Our lives are posted, retweeted, altered, reblogged, perfected, and photoshopped to exactly how we want to be perceived
We have the freedom to be exactly what they want us to be.
It starts with a few edits doesn't it,
pigmented our skin to seem smooth and sun kissed,
that would seem most acceptable right?
Maybe an extra like for the skinnier waist.
More reassurance for brighter colors.
Some more filters will hid the emptiness you feel with your friends
Another like
Flashier clothing, phones, shoes, cars, other simple words our eyes have latched on to
Another like
We urge ourselves to portray the life of leisure and effortless beauty, happiness, success,
Another like
But what are we enjoying?
Another like
Views of our changing world through a 3 by 8 view.
Another like
Events pass by swipe
Another like
and swipe
Another like
And when we managed to unlock ourselves from this grasp
We always come back
Like flies to light, more like scratches to a scab
Festering we find ourselves getting ****** back in
To an imaginary world, that if destroyed, would have no physical effects on their fictional beings
For without this world, maybe eyes will open
We will step past the boundaries,
and start to love our beings
unfiltered
Aug 10, 2018
Aug 10, 2018 at 4:40 PM UTC
Finding a lover is effortless
for some people.
They only want a few things:
Someone attractive, kind,
funny or rich.
But
I desire
something so much deeper.
I want
an intelligent mind
that wakes up thoughts in me
I didn't realize were hibernating.
I want
to converse, analyze and debate
without being conscious of
the sun rising and falling
between our words.
I want
to make a witty remark
at a coffee shop
so he can reply sarcastically
just for me to jab back immediately
and for him to comeback back playfully
until we're both laughing
stomachs shaking
spit flying
the whole store staring
and we leave
without coffee
I want
our hands to stitch together
perfectly
like two lost puzzle pieces;
one found under a couch cushion
one found inside a junk drawer.
The rest of the puzzle has
already been thrown away
but
these two pieces remain
and they fit.
I want
to fall in love together
then together fall in love with
art, museums, songs, poems
T.V shows, radio jingles,
greek food, backroads,
our mutual hatred for pop culture,
doing the dishes (as long as he washes and I dry)
wrong turns, piled up laundry, life.
Just fall in love with life.
I want
to hurt with him
I want
to save the world with him
I want
to meet, see, understand
and experience all that is foreign
with him.
I think it will only take us meeting
and it'll only be history and happiness from then on.
It's just a matter of if a love like that could ever be
and if a love like that could ever be for me.
Oct 3, 2017
Oct 3, 2017 at 11:35 PM UTC
The way he looks at her
and she looks at him
makes love look so
effortless.
He doesn’t even notice
how he is leaning in –
towards her. And how her arm is
intertwined
around his so tightly;
with such a devoted glint of comfort
and familiarity.
I hope you're on the same train.
Making the aftermath
of falling easy, the complexity simply
luminescent.
Almost allowing me to feel light.
My heart had its fair share of
lightness, brightness – heavy now but
the smiles, the laughter;
It makes me feel as if
perhaps
that is what I yearn for in The End.
But will I ever find happiness if I'm overflowing with joy?
Because the
Melancholy
of a platform sliding out-of-mind,
with You standing there debating the
tangles in your shoelaces
warms up my equally tangled,
Masochistic
heart. Because that is not granted for me (us).
Not the handholding
nor the scent of your hair
when it’s 5 a.m. and your arms
are knotted around my waist and we
waste the day, the days, days in my bed.
Oh, yes (please).
No. I can't get that.
I remind myself:
"I don't need that."
I step onto the platform.
I mind the gap.
I dare do much
But I cannot dare to
trip, stumble,
and fall.
For You. (I already have.)
Feb 27, 2017
Feb 27, 2017 at 8:59 PM UTC
All consumed by thoughts of you
Tied with chains
my heart in pain
I long for your touch your taste
body begs you to penetrate
It's like you can't hear or see what you do
So effortless yet you have no clue
my physical illnesses stem directly from you
head bangs of desire from chemicals that set my brain on fire
You're the air that feeds the flames
squeezed from my lungs
I'm locked in a haze
Waiting to be saved
Dec 19, 2014
Dec 19, 2014 at 12:19 PM UTC
Fulfill the dreams of yearning heart
Under the arch lights, bathed in glory
Reminiscing the path that you took
Forlorn and strewn with hurdles
At times an effortless glide ahead
Blended with mixed fortunes
Inching towards the destination
Trial of patience as going gets tough
Dreams will be fulfilled, after tribulations
Don’t stop dreaming just yet
Ignore the furtive glances of cynics
Dreams are to be nurtured and fulfilled
Jul 24, 2014
Jul 24, 2014 at 11:23 PM UTC
my brother-in-law’s really fit
I admire him for it
He spends much time
in exercise, in energetic thrusts
He’s a whole aerobics center;
gets all the exercise he needs:
He constantly jumps to conclusions
runs down friends, back-stabs whenever he can
side-steps responsibility
and you could say, is constantly pushing his luck
And pushing it too far too…
and goes round and round in circles
with many false arguments
But one kind thing I can say of him
he’s mindful of my health
for he must have observed how I hardly exercise
and he invites me often to his fitness program
“You scratch my back, I scratch yours,” he says…
But I’m just too lazy even for such effortless exercise
and meanwhile, he continues with his fitness program
namely, as I have said before,
jumping to conclusions and constantly pushing his luck…
while the only thing I can manage
in response to his fitness program
(darned lazy as I am, as he complains to his sis)
is to lift my middle finger
but frankly, my brother-in-law’s really fit
I admire him for it
Aug 15, 2013
Aug 15, 2013 at 9:08 AM UTC
A real man
Remembers that stars are there
Even when blocked out
By city lights
He knows patience
Because more often
Than not
Waiting
Is
Worth it
He does not falter
With his love
He does not stutter
When he mutters
Three
Simple
Words
A real man
Need not be rich
Or giant
Or aggressive
But knows that family
Is prosperity
Love is vast
And
Compassion
Is more powerful
Than destruction
When he laughs
He is carrying me away
On plush clouds
Lightening my day
Reminding me, not to feel so heavy
You feel his heart
Beating at once
With yours
Even from far away
When he smiles
It is not forced
It is peaceful
It is effortless
You see the world in his
Gleaming
Brown
Eyes
When he cries
(Yes, a real man cries)
He is shedding away his pain
Collecting tears
To make a river
So that he can swim
He never
Allows himself to sink
When he loves
It is almost indescribable
He takes care
He is devoted
He is reliable
Understanding
Of the universe’s trials
The sad truth is
So many good men
Go unnoticed
In this world
So many are
Taken
For granted
When a girl
Realizes
She has a real man
She must decide to
Step up
And become
A real woman
Strong
Loyal
Nurturing
Loving
Honest
She gives him her heart
And never thinks twice
And if she’s lucky enough
To be given his
She treats it
Like a precious stone
And never lets it
Out of sight.
Oct 13, 2012
Oct 13, 2012 at 12:14 AM UTC
Starting with coverage from BBC2.
Brushing calm shadows into
pastel hills.
A rhythm paints terrain a
sugary brown.
Flicks of green create
fauliage serene.
The clean tasteless air is
cotton soft.
A effortless stream runs
cobalt clear.
Where salmon gymnastics begin
each year.
Squirrels practice dance routines a
glamorous red.
The doormice dressed and ready
for bed.
Continuing coverage on Ch4.
The perch, the tench sat together on an underwater bench.
Discussing bait and hooks whilst flicking through some fishing books.
What's he eating? Mr Mole,
it looks like cheese and ham
on a soft brown roll.
There's a chicken and a fox that
live round here.
Seriously, they've been dating each other for about a year.
Now, if you take the next left,
then over the stye.
There's a duck lives there,
call in and say, hi!
Poetry by Kaydee.
Sep 13, 2018
Sep 13, 2018 at 10:09 PM UTC
sad boy;
what a pathetic
ploy
this is for my attention.
all you contrive
tastelessly
always lacks concession.
every word,
and image you fake
I reject, from my
possession,
for all you are
's worth less than this
effortless expression.
you see, my natural
creativity
surmounts your ****
impression
of the beauty of my work
and my powerful
transgression.
Jul 27, 2018
Jul 27, 2018 at 7:02 AM UTC
Ripples riddle the mirror,
Below, faint shapes shift
Elegant forms float here and there,
Little legs thunder, leaving a gentle wake
in lieu of turmoil.
The air is thick, the sun falling,
Already lost behind billowing storm clouds
Etched chaotically on the horizon.
Invisible but for the ubiquitous light.
It is the dragonflies time,
A darting zip and an effortless flutter.
From surfacing **** to towering Reed,
Searching for something we can only pretend to know.
Determined housewives, faces set,
Arms pumping and hips swaying
Their Anatidean waddle so fitting
Their quacks, a wall of stereo.
A lone rusted sign warns of gators,
but of signs, there is that one alone.
No rogue bubbles or beady eyes,
no ticking of swallowed clocks,
no suspicious splashes.
nothing.
My battery is now as low as the sun,
and my pen is as empty.
A not so subtle poke in the ribs
from a universe in protest of the
bad poetry being inked.
c'est la vie
or as we say in English
**** it
Aug 2, 2018
Aug 2, 2018 at 10:47 AM UTC
The cherry blossoms, pink and luscious, in full bloom.
Below the koi fish swim round, round in circles.
The sun reflects off silk kimonos with a shine radiant, dazzling,
With red lips against painted white skin, blindingly beautiful.
A walk like unraveling ribbon,
And hair like ink, bound tightly a few strands bound for escape.
Untouched skin tainted by stares, clipped wings useless for an escape,
Freedom comes in the hope of riding a cherry blossom, swelling in bloom.
The leaves swirl to the ground, spiraling in nature’s ribbon.
The glares of tigers ********** her, kimono falling to her feet in circles,
Eyes of blue, green, never turning away, trapping those beautiful,
The nature of a hidden world, shaming and stunning, confining yet so dazzling.
The snap of the gold-trimmed fan weaving in and out, dazzling
The crowd with effortless twists and turns; clenched tightly, no room for escape.
A dance of untamed water in a disturbingly beautiful
Unity of desire and fright. A young bud not on the verge of bloom
Thrown into a crowd of tigers to be spun in uncontrollable circles
And entrapped by the unflinching gazes in silk ribbon.
The game is simple: mesmerize a pack with grace of ribbon,
Attend engagements that ask for a dance, tea pouring, but never dazzling
That pure smile too brightly. Fool the ***** tigers to follow in circles,
But never trust a tiger that promises a chance of escape.
Never fall for love’s first bloom,
Never become the next to lose the light. Stay pure and stay beautiful.
A kimono is only as pure and as beautiful
As the woman underneath. By cutting the ribbon
Of virginity by a friendly lamb, instead of tiger’s bidding for the bloom,
Only leads to the fall of a shooting star, gracing the sky with its dazzling
Beauty, and the hope and wish of an everlasting escape
Is crushed by the weight of a soapy rag, washing away the hope in circles.
Though the pain of the cage binds the mind in endless circles,
Though tigers ignored the aching backs and blistered feet, staring at only the beautiful,
It is better, safer to stay in the hidden world, banishing all thoughts of an escape.
Keep the tigers in a tight ribbon,
Stay young, fresh, never letting the mind wander away from dazzling,
And never fall like a cherry blossom after its first bloom.
A walk like unraveling ribbon,
The sun reflects off the silk kimono with a shine that never ceases from dazzling,
And forever watching the cherry blossoms, pink and luscious, fall in full bloom.
Mar 19, 2014
Mar 19, 2014 at 2:08 PM UTC
I want perfection
I want that moment where our eyes meet
and neither of us can break the gaze
where our souls open to one another
like buds thirsting for the rain
where I see eternity, endless infinity
expand and share their secrets
from within you and know in that instant
that you see the same in me
I want that perfection of recognition
I want perfection
I want a shared empathy
an effortless telepathic connection
to feel that golden thread that links
all my chakras with all yours
I want to wake thinking of you
to drift into sleep doing the same
to know this is true for you too
and to meet even in our dreams
I want that perfection of synchronicity
I want perfection
I want to explore your body
to marvel at its complete perfection
even though you believe it imperfect
I want you to marvel too
at the perfection you see in this body
although I know it to be far short
I want to be consumed in mutual lust
to burn with your tastes sounds and smells
subsuming our senses into one another
I want that perfection of sensation
I want perfection
I want to run and work and sweat with you
to experience the joys of music, of performance
to travel with you to places of wonder
to inspire your creativity
to be inspired by you in every way
to reach new heights as yet undreamed
to remain forever grateful
for the gifts of your love
I want that perfection of complementarity
Cynthia Pauline Jones 4th May 2015
May 4, 2015
May 4, 2015 at 2:21 PM UTC
I feel so out-of-touch and small talk seems out of reach.
Are my thoughts worth airing? Maybe its better to not speak.
See, lately I've been thinking. More so than usual.
And its come to my attention that my attention is unusual.
I can't believe it took me this long to realize
just how egocentric I can be.
A fourth of my life is gone and its always been about me.
I know and acknowledge that you're a person too
but something has changed and I feel like I can't talk to you.
Where once it was effortless, now conversing is difficult.
Instead of truly listening I'm preparing my rebuttals.
It isn't that I don't care.
It isn't that I'm disinterested.
But it feels like my volume knobs got ****** up and I can barely listen.
Why is my head louder than reality?
It's exhausting to focus on anyone but me.
Truly a self-serving, self-centered friend I am.
Sorry.
Mar 31, 2016
Mar 31, 2016 at 12:22 AM UTC
I may hate you more tomorrow , but i'll never love you less
for you're the one person i can always count on , you're simply the best
and everyone who knows us predicted we won't last a sec
it's like we're the opposite end
of a spectrum, yet a single entity
violating the norms of this hypocritical society
simple,yet so **intriguing **
And girl , we go on so well together
like bread and butter
like milkshake and cookies
YOU'RE THE MELODY..TO MY LYRICS
and God only knows,
the inspiration behind how many songs!
the ones i've lost
and also the ones i carry in my heart
And without Nancy(my bestie) , where would Aditi(me) be?
without you ...well that just can't be
you're always sure of somethings,
like the sun will always rise, that's the way you make me feel
you're probably the only thing ..that drags me to the boring premises of dav{my school} (also the fact that 75%attendance is required but you get the idea)
and looking at you , and looking at me ..
and looking at the ****
and crazy stuffs we do and we did
i wonder how effortless it is
how the kind of girl i'm ..everything looks scary to me
but you just make it better somehow ,without even doing a thing
and sometimes, i get this blurry pic of you and I
we're close to being 75
silver hair , wrinkled cheeks
sitting on a park bench,eating(that's her aka my bestie's favorite thing..eating)
talking about the same old senseless thing
and looking at each other with contempt
and say
"hey ,we made it to the end♥ "
Dec 10, 2013
Dec 10, 2013 at 10:59 AM UTC
The perfectionist loves to hear his voice,
He is the respected critic inside,
He is the learned one,
The educated and the educator.
A beautiful constructor,
The finishing touch
To the artist's hand.
The voice is always a partner,
He will always be there to help
The artist, comfort is taken in his ability.
The artist needn't forget,
There are many voices on the side,
Awaiting for their time to speak,
Each one has its time,
All varying in their patience and duration.
The artist sees what he hasn't before:
The voice of support; the voice of love; the voice of decision; and the voice of passion.
There is always time to contemplate his flaws
And he wants to reassure himself:
Perfection is not a demand, but a quest,
One of beauty and one of joy.
Perfection is the beauty in imperfection.
The pursuit of achievement is one to relish, it is not to be rushed or
Ceased, it is a running walk, a walking run, a sitting stand, a moving still.
It is every step he has made.
The artist looks behind and sees
His effort, he is proud to have experienced
His triumphs and his trauma
The voice of comfort will be there all the way,
She is a gentle quieter spirit that deserves as much an ear.
When all voices have calmed and subsided,
Her tenderness remains.
I remind the artist of his friends,
I remind him that the critical voice is the voice of nature,
The physical laws unchanged.
He is the driving force to stasis and movement in the age worry and indecision.
"Do not be overwhelmed" I say to the artist,
You are one of many.
You are with friends.
The voice of change encourages the artist to evolve and to smile,
The voice of happiness allows peaceful living and awareness.
The tiger belongs to nature,
not to be feared, but to be respected
and understood.
Do not despair, do not relinquish hope,
Hope is the shining beacon in a world of anguish.
Hope is the angel shining her torch ever so bright.
Hope is the window that allows pain and suffering to see the light of day ,
Hope allows oneness.
The artist moves his brush: an effortless stroke,
A flicker of joy,
A tear in his eye.
He once was old,
Now is young.
He learns to enjoy
The work he has done,
He can now enjoy the work he does,
He is enjoying the work he is doing.
He enjoys his life.
The state of mind, it is a fickle hatchling.
Able to be pursued and persuaded,
also able to be liberated.
The artist is free,
His thoughts can pass,
His fear will subside,
His body can move,
His heart will follow
And the mind will allow.
Spirit be set free,
Bird do fly,
Artist do paint,
You,
You are.
Peace within oneself is peace with others.
The artist is brave, he is a soul that stands tall in the face of adversity,
He is a sleepless enigma in his room at night,
He is the passionate one,
The artist and his love affair with the critic outshines his charisma,
The love for the sophisticated darkness,
His love for the melodrama,
His quest for knowledge,
Perhaps the only knowledge is
Ignorance.
Blissful unawareness.
Jun 15, 2016
Jun 15, 2016 at 11:20 AM UTC
I am literate in daydreams
and letting my imagination rule my head
I am literate in music
where rationale can be abandoned.
I am literate in procrastination,
pushing away my mind-defying.
I am literate in heartbreak
which has been already over-endured.
I am literate in lazy weekends
spent with my sister and a remote.
I am literate in creating;
not masterpieces, but heart and soul pieces.
I am literate in ramen noodle and green tea afternoons
in sweatpants and sneakers with no makeup on.
I am literate in moment-capturing
and finding the right words to explain.
I am literate in thunderstorms
and dancing in between water droplets.
I am literate in heart confessions
over acoustic guitars and games of solitaire.
I am literate in wanting
and taking away from what I already have.
I am literate in wanderlust
and a wholehearted need to escape.
I am literate in color-coordination and clothing arranging
and bringing out all my best.
I am literate in kissing with desperation
and wanting to have it be effortless.
I am literate in wasting my time
in my head, in my heart, and in the clouds.
I am literate in everything mentioned
and so much that I can’t even say.
Apr 1, 2013
Apr 1, 2013 at 10:26 PM UTC
I'm an olympic housewife.
My mantlepiece of medals
is perfectly folded washing
arranged in mahogany drawers
with calm elegance
like swans on a lake.
I’m an elite athlete of the mundane.
My scrapbook of 1st place ribbons
are surfaces that sparkle
a masterpiece of purity
zen arrangement lust
like Ikebana in an empty room.
I’m an extreme sport star of domesticity.
My list of world class honours
gluten free bake-offs
blogging my parenting tips
a domestic online celebrity
like an effortless Demeter.
Jul 4, 2015
Jul 4, 2015 at 11:19 PM UTC
Beneath the bracing maple tree
Awaits a beau, pursued heart's key
Cold sweaty hands, timid was he
As if he's dosed with ecstasy
To woo this beautiful princess,
Hath played a fiddle effortless
Heart beats loud beneath pastel dress
Mind's been puzzled, soon she'll confess
She don't regret, she won't forget
For that so moment felt kismet
Will they be lovers? Make a guess,
It all depends if she said yes
Feb 23, 2019
Feb 23, 2019 at 9:37 PM UTC
Inspired by Disney's magical kingdom,
And enchanting fantasy tales,
You've reached the learning age of five,
Leaving precious memories, deep in my heart,
Like dainty little footprints, upon a trail.
Since the first day you entered my classroom,
Shying away, in a world of your own,
And nearly in tears,
Waiting to be picked up,
And taken back home.
But you gradually surpassed this fear,
Allowing me into your life,
As I reached out with dedication,
And unconditional love,
Opening the door to your future, and watched you strive.
By quickly learning your ABC's, 123's, colors,
Sounds, and mastered the writing of your name quite early,
Including other tasks, and now it may sound effortless,
But it's a gift you've certainly gained,
And today, I'd like to wish you a safe and successful journey.
May 3, 2014
May 3, 2014 at 5:51 PM UTC
our love was an hourglass.
time was always ticking and always is
but with you time seemed to slow down
you made me forget about our "time limit"
and you made me believe the sand would fall for eternity
however the hourglass was still there counting down until you had to move,
until my heart had to shatter into a million pieces.
I knew that day was coming eventually,
I was just in denial
because no one taught me that there's no such thing as a "happy ending"
our time became shorter and I began to worry.
I knew our time together was coming to a close
when the sand in the hourglass faded, so did you.
and on that day when the sand stopped I knew I hadn't cherished you enough
for it was your leaving day,
the day you packed your bags, hopped in the moving van and never looked back.
and even though the hourglass stopped running, it never ran out.
because you can never get rid of the sand in an hourglass.
and even though you left, I could never truly get rid of you. you were the sand, trapped, without an escape, forced to keep tumbling through my mind.
now the "sand" in the hourglass represents my heart, shattered and torn.
the pieces shift as memories of us collide.
and I have no control of when the hourglass gets flipped over again.
nor can I control when flashbacks of us come flooding in like a hurricane.
I just do my best to build a dam, and hold everything back.
eventually, our hourglass came to a stop.
and I ran out of energy to keep up with you.
you were the effortless sand, falling wherever gravity took you.
but once you left I became lonely
I was the empty side of the hourglass
I could still see you, and I still loved you
but there was nothing I could do about it.
you just let the pieces fall where they may,
while I tried to put my own pieces back together
but I looked like an idiot because something was missing from all those pieces.
and that something was you.
Dec 3, 2015
Dec 3, 2015 at 9:26 PM UTC
You make me smile so easily
almost as easy as the breeze on a fall day,
Effortless,
Knowing it's the least you can expect.
You let me write doodles on you,
Words that usually hurt,
Words about my former heartbreak,
But with you it doesn't hurt.
You call me your friend,
And I try and explain I can't be your friend
I'll like you,
Oops,
Too late for that.
Every time you laugh I see your dimples,
Indented so deep into your face,
I love them,
They draw the perfect amount of attention to your face,
Those gorgeous dimples help me see your lush lips,
Perhaps they'd like to meet mine one day.
Your one of the few people that aren't afraid to be seen with me,
To be seen talking and laughing with me,
Apparently to some I'm shameful,
But you just continue on making jokes,
Making me laugh.
Each moment I spend with you
I like you a little more,
Liking you has grown easy,
Your the kind of person that can make me happy,
I think your the only one that can make this loneliness fade,
So you should do me a favor and just stay,
Stay and keep the loneliness away.
Sep 28, 2011
Sep 28, 2011 at 8:27 PM UTC
Lady night offers her generosity
as the stars twinkle in syncopation for me.
Shadow-clad silhouettes...
Their gaits mysterious.
The night lights trail into the depths of my eyes.
Burning away the seconds, so effortless.
The quietness...
Willing forth dishevelled reflections...
Of unkempt emotions.
Allowing a barrage...
Of thoughts and notions that span
over night and day.
So that they could...
Be conveyed through paper and screen.
So that I could...
Share with you what I intimately mean.
The unforgiving onslaught of ideas and feelings
I bravely conjured...
But too afraid to say.
Feb 15, 2016
Feb 15, 2016 at 9:54 AM UTC