Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
beth stclair Mar 2015
winter faded like old parchment, drawn in charcoal
the trees waited for the inevitable colours of spring.
your voice coloured silence and left me standing
away from the crowd with my head inclined to yours,
listening to you, the shadows swept away and your
voice like the moonlight, the blue inks of the sea.
i watched you unwind night skies and the night stars
that burnt in the rivery realms of lost ruins and whispering
dreams, fell like dead men before your passion and there
was no reasoning with what you believed and you had
no compassion for the world. hatred fired up before
my forgiveness and you could not forgive. how many  
oceans scattered their flowers and light, how many
armies fell before the burning amber of your eyes?
http://www.barnesandnoble.com/w/and-then-i-returned-to-you-you-my-poet-of-the-water-beth-st-clair/1115678228?ean=29400165

from my book
I jumped in, right to
Pooling thoughts, I'd discarded,
Help me feel again-
Mikaila Jun 2014
It's true that I never really knew you.
But I did love you
In a certain, breathless way.
In a hushed way.
I was very small, then. And very sad.
And I looked out on a great, green, vivid world,
And I was afraid, even, to whisper into it
As if my breath would push the color out.
I watched. I noticed.
I perched on the edge of myself,
On the line between me
And the air around me,
Too cautious to slip into either fully.
I was used to looking.
I was used to being a shadow, and I enjoyed it.
I thought I enjoyed it.

The day I met you, you looked back at me.
You were the first.
Imagine that- all those years, and you were the first person
To wonder what it was like behind my eyes
Enough to really look into them.

I could have loved you
Just for that
And maybe I did, originally.
I remember small things, small wakings-up,
Tiny moments that made me realize who I was.
I never lived inside myself before that year.
When I met you I discovered
That I had hands
That when the breeze was warm
I felt it
That my fingers could read the world I so loved to look at-
Change it
Mold it,
Have it.
I discovered that maybe I didn't have to exist alone
And for that knowledge
I must bitterly thank you,
For ever since then I have craved to be held,
Every second
And it has been wonderful and terrible.

I remember snapshots of that time.

The first time, when you looked at me, when you stood close to me
And I was so surprised that I forgot to recoil
And I discovered that I didn't want to.
Your eyes,
Pale and warm, a clear grey-blue, sparkling with mischief,
And what was behind them-
Pain, fear, love, wit and imagination.
You.

I didn't know you,
But I saw you.
I was looking. I always look.
I rarely see anything I wish I could write poetry about.
When I do, it keeps on coming, even years later.
Go figure.

I remember going home and laying awake in the dark
And your face wouldn't leave my mind.
You were leaving within the week,
And I didn't want to forget it, somehow.
I didn't know what made me want to look at you.
Thinking of you-
The curtain of dark hair you hid beneath a hat,
Your softly freckled skin,
Your low, husky voice that always made my head turn
As if everyone else was just background noise.
Maybe it was the way your lips would quirk up in a half smile
Whenever you said something witty and knew it.
(I loved that you knew it.)
Somehow the sum-total of you
Stuck with me and wouldn't leave.
I'd met handsome men.
I'd met beautiful women.
I'd met many people, by then,
But none I'd wanted to know quite like I wanted to know you.

It had never occurred to me
Before that summer
That I would ever want to kiss anybody.
When I discovered that I wanted to kiss you...
I didn't know what to do.
So I said nothing.
Did nothing.
I passionately looked at you
As you told your mesmerizing stories and laughed and looked elsewhere.
I didn't mind.

That was the year
Two weeks later
That I rolled over in bed and asked my best friend to kiss me.
That was the year I discovered why I'd never fantasized a white wedding
(It wasn't legal yet.)

In the years after, I searched for you.
Sometimes I found you.
Sometimes
I couldn't stop telling you you were beautiful.
Sometimes I felt close to you
And my heart would race.
Sometimes you chose a boy
Over my small, dainty face and my eyelashes and my high heeled boots
And that was the first time I felt
The now familiar aching shame- the fear
That maybe that would always happen.
The fear I still grapple with, if I am to be honest.

Still, there were moments when you and I were close, and I treasured them.
Once, I asked you for a hug
And you pulled me down onto the bed beside you
And that was the first time
I ever felt my stomach fall through my feet
In a delicious way,
In a thrilling way.
All I did was hug you,
And looked at your soft, brown eyelashes
Casting shadows down your cheeks.
And then somebody walked in and the moment was over
But I never quite forgot it.

You were kind to me.
You were kind to me in a way I hadn't experienced before,
And I wanted to make you smile.

I remember the day you told us why you wore shorts at the pool.
I remember the white hashmarks shining in the sun
All the way up your thighs.
I remember I thought a thousand things in that second.
I wanted to tell you that you didn't have to hide them.
I wanted to show you that you were beautiful.
I've kissed scars since then, you know.
Because of that moment, I've kissed scars before I've kissed lips.
I've left people loved instead of wounded.
If I'd have let myself think such things about people back then,
I'd have wanted to touch those long-healed cuts with my fingertips,
Feel the smooth hills and valleys of a chaotic heart
Made damaged flesh.
I'd have wanted to kiss them, too, like I did to different skin-
Softly and without lust, looking into the eyes that witnessed their creation.
It was a very, very personal thought. A very, very private longing.
So confusing that I locked it up and didn't think of it for years to come.
And when I did once more,
I was raising a pale white wrist to my lips, tracing a wax-white pattern of healed hatred with soft kisses
And I saw what I wanted to see in the surprised, vulnerable brown eyes I was looking into.
That moment for her
Was your fault.

I remember when I realized why you had such trouble eating.
I never did hear all the details.
I couldn't presume to ask.
All I did was watch you walk away from the table,
Burning with the desire to comfort you
But
I was so used to looking
And not touching
And so I watched you go
And thought of you all night.

It rained a lot, those years.
It never seems to rain like that anymore.
Whenever I saw you it seemed to rain at least once,
The sky turning the same grey blue as your eyes when you were thinking
And thought nobody was looking
And cracking open with a rush of rain and lightning and the sweet, low rumble of thunder crackling through the hot clouds high above.
The holes in the road would fill with water
And the whole place would become a river.
It was so free.
Somehow I began to think of you whenever it rained.

I'm almost sure it was your eyes. They were so deep and stormy, sometimes.
Sometimes they were bright blue, like those summer days when the clouds skip along the sky, pushed by warm winds and shattered by sunlight.
Sometimes they looked very, very pale, like the tide when it folds up in satiny layers against the sand.
I always felt a little strange, looking at your eyes like I did.
I couldn't stop.
That was probably why I rarely touched you.
I was afraid that I was already invading, already pushing too much
To see what was inside of you.

I remember listening to you learn lines late at night,
The way your voice would rise and fall,
And I didn't even know why I was listening-
It just pulled me in, a sound I was partial to,
A tone I wanted to feel on my skin.

I remember tagging along for countless adventures,
Making up excuses to be here or there that I knew you'd be
Just so that I could be a bit closer.
I didn't have an end game.
Didn't have a goal.
I wasn't me enough yet. I acted from fascination.
I wanted to stand near you and watch you be.

I have the most vivid memory of you taking off running
One hot, hot summer day
Into a field of tall grass,
Your laughs and shouts echoing further away
And sometimes I'd see your pale arms stretch above the wildflowers and underbrush,
Waving a gauzy net after the white butterflies that rode the sunbeams.
What a happy field that was.
I didn't run.
I watched.
I always watched.
But I remember that the smile that touched my face
Filled my bones.

I remember when you cut your hair
And I could finally see your face in full
And I wanted to photograph it
In black and white
And maybe catch the way your laughter lived in your gaze.

That was when
You started to fade away.
I saw you less,
And you saw me... much less.
Perhaps I should have let you turn away
And never said a thing,
But
You were the first thing I ever really wanted
Enough to reach for in any way.
I spoke, and you heard me.
And even though you pretended you didn't
It was still the first time
I ever shouted.

Now... now I'm not sure what I think of you
Or what
You think of me.
But I know what you were when I knew you
And I love that girl
And that girl
Created much of what I love about who I am.
And most of the time
I think she grew up.
Found a man, found a life, found a place.
Most of the time I think it's okay that we don't talk
Because you probably aren't her anymore.
I wish I could say
I thought I'd grow up like that and leave my skin behind
But
I am the girl who looked at you back then.
And I have been her ever since,
Only added to.
I know I will never outgrow how I love,
Who I love,
Whatever woke up when I first realized how I felt about you.
I will only learn to wield it.

Sometimes I wish I knew you now.
Sometimes I wish I'd known you then.
Just because... look at all the firsts you were, to me,
And for years into knowing you
I didn't even know your real name.
Imagine if you'd let me in, how we could have changed each other.
I wonder who I'd be
If I'd done more than just watch you silently and smile.

What I learned
From years of gazing at you across picnic tables and bunk beds is that
You can love somebody you don't know.
You can give to someone you haven't taken from.
And you can be changed by someone who never even touched you.
And I'd like you to know that.
And I'd like to remind you
That you never quite know who out there
Is quietly writing you poetry.
Aduain Nov 2018
I look for you in the faded light
Mist obscures a soul so bright,
Lost in words that give no peace,
The melody, I fear will cease.
Smile, that time is not so near,
So lets go have another beer!
The laughter will endure the dark,
The glow will make the features stark

We can last forever, it seems,
Walking on the narrow beams,
of life in HD technicolour,
a cruel assessment of a dying pallor.
Of course, this will all come to pass,
And we will celebrate the holy mass,
With music, alcohol and song
And everything that seems so wrong.

To keep the memories alive,
The feelings that we keep inside,
must eventually be let go,
into the river of life’s flow.
Come now, and take my hand!
At the river bank, where we will stand,
smile warmly at those who pass,
and embrace this life of love at last.

The song goes on and never fades,
The lively tunes strange cadence plays,
And keeps the sun above us strong,
To warm our skin the summer long.
The long cold winter will come soon,
With coats and scarves we’ll be festooned,
But in our hearts warm with desire,
We’ll rest nearby our passions fire.

A deep and healthy sleep will help,
The mothers last milk for the whelp,
That feeds with only food in mind,
Eventually, being left behind,
To meet head on life’s expectation,
to declare love as its last oration.
For this we can only be thankful,
And to that thought, lets light a candle.

Aduain
Leigh May 2015
The tide collects it all by morning;
The drama and the ***** napalmed across the path.
The scenes at second warning for most had been swept away
Before they wiped the sand from their shoes.

Empty cans of Dutch and Tuborg slouched on the dunes
Are tight-lipped about the Velvet Strand's secret ecosystem;
An underground microcosm;
A peripheral cluster of seething emotions drowned.

Memories of those years - although some expired,
The vestiges take pride of place - hold a cosmic clump of smells,
Tastes, firsts, goosebumps, hangovers, and ends.
I never before understood what I was holding on to.

Winters down in the shelters nearly killed us but we
Huddled through the cold, lit cheap firelogs and
Found our oblivion. It didn't take much for me to develop  
A stagger - tolerance for a lot of things was learned later.

I narrowly recall my first taste of poor judgement and
Hazy-headed stargazing. Six cans of Stonehouse
Dry cider - most of which ended up on the hillside -
Was a ridiculous endeavour that will always be sublime.

At the heart of it, I did it to impress a girl;
The one every boy has or has had that sticks;
Who holds your firsts and your hands and makes
Things simple if only for her complexity;

The one that never fails to bring upon digression when
Pens are involved. Revisiting reminiscence on a jarring note,
I think of my Junior Cert exams and a cross-dressed man
Exposing himself to two uniformed boys behind the public toilets.

This one doesn't stir the joy of the others.
This one I wish would dissolve;
An ****, awkward blotch on a childhood.

Luckily fondness trumps disgust when recalling that place
Because of sunrises and sunsets absorbed from the roof.
The Summers spent jumping the gap and drowning in the
Heat of the sun were everything.

The fugitive sand between our toes and under finger nails
Became an accepted nuisance, a part of the territory;
A lingering grain or two to drag you back.
I miss waking up with the smell of last night's faded fire.
.


Some weird and wonderful memories of my teenage years.

100 points if you catch the Derek Mahon reference.


.
Max Vale Aug 2018
I was brought here by a star,
One that I had rode on from afar.
Here on this planet called "Earth",
Was destined to be my hearth.
Millenniums folded,
The Earth moulded.
From a barren plain,
To the Earth we see today.
Then I met Man.
Gone were the forests,
Replaced by cities.
Gone were the creatures,
Who had no say.
Man was not evil,
Man had good intentions.
Shame that the life of one race,
Mattered more than the life of others.
Earth, my home.
A friend I used to know,
A girl I used to love.
Now I'm faded.
Today for the first time in quite awhile,
upon my face grew a genuine smile.

It wasn't fabricated, it was honest and true
and when reality hit me I was left feeling blue.

I was so surprised, it was hard to even speak.
How long had it been? A month or a week?

My smile had faded as quickly as it grew,
but I know it'll be back the next time I think of you.
My head doctor told me I was "existentially depressed"
Savy Jul 1
The light goes through you
No longer a reflection of your beauty
No longer an oasis for my erratic pulse
A thorn to the eye and a boiling knife to the chest
Not blinded, just vexed
Not shining but dulled
Your fire just a flicker of what it once was
The flame you lit in me now void of warmth.
The impact you had on my heart
Now nothing more than a bruise
Jaimie Ramirez Jun 2018
Rolled my first blunt with the help of you
Taught me everything i had no clue
Got high and fell in love wit the trees
Nature at its finest i couldn’t believe
Got too comfortable and became addicted
No prescriptions
Started trappin without permission
Young and never gave a ****
Was in luck when i saw u rollin up
World’s better when im high
That good feeling in the skies
Forgetting more about the pain
Meds workin on my body and brain
Helped me be the woman i am today
Smoked my feelings to let the pain away
Wished i stayed look at you now best friend in the grave
Smokin and felt you here
Remembering you brings me tears
I picture you around
Faded with me off the loud
Trap life with you made me go crazy
One day I’ll leave here without fear
Lost my best friend but feel him here
At times feel his presence near
The good die young is what they say
Still having flashbacks from that day
Rip
Wanted to dedicate this one for those good vibes we shared together.
Lexie Aug 2018
The moon is drunk and full
And I sober and empty
We both will fade into the morning
esridersi Dec 2018
yesterdays
             stumbles,
buried.
        trodden
                  into shore,        
remain
   just              
       footprints.
Najihah Aug 2018
Where are you going?
I put so much efforts to catch you
But it went in vain.
Since this evening,
I've seen you nowhere.
Are you okay?
Why are you leaving me with only a soul?
All this time, we had been together.
You gave me experiences.
You created me either good or bad.
And suddenly, you just went away without goodbye?
Oh **** you, feelings.
Now, I understand what they meant by feelings faded.
September Roses May 2018
We are tied together by our stories, our history
Tales woven through our ancestry, when our parents talk of their younger days,
When their life was ahead of them,
the future was anything and everything,
they speak of their old friends with ache in their soul,
Of times when their hearts were filled with fire and passion,
running through fields growing memories  planted by the world around them
When they could sprint the wind in their hair,
adventure ahead,
hope in their heart.
They speak of the days behind with woe
Because essentially just their ideas of the future as a young mind, were more enticing than reality.
As dreams failed and hope faded
As their minds wear
and their treasured stories that made them who they are fog over
As threads begin to wear
As tales they once yelled to the world with pride fray at the ends
Your whole world slipping away as the thread unwinds
But they get the joy of passing down the tapestry to their pride and joy,
to the life they made,
Every moment we live with ease of no appreciation for every experience every laugh
Moments we take for granted
Moments we will pine for when they run out
Moments the elderly urge us with fire to cherish
Moments we'll wish we listened about
There is a vast tapestry of memories behind you and infinite thread panning out in front of you, connecting to other tapestries,
visiting at friends,
at enemies,
joining with soul-mates future.
Some cut away,
some ripped from the tapestries too soon before they could weave their own.
A loose thread cannot be fixed once more are made,
and the patterns will never be what you want them to be, savour each stitch
Take time on every thread
You don't want to be sitting there 50 years old thinking about the life you wasted
About the memories faded,
About how every slipping memory's never like the moment you made it.
Don't be sitting 90 filled with regret
Filled with hatred for every opportunity you left
Screaming into the void about how much you hate what your life become.
because they say time flys when your having fun truth is time only flies when you're young.
I'm faded
Like a shadow
On a winters day

Like a pencil mark
That has been
Whiped away

Like a tear
Running down
My cheek

Like my self-esteem
After they claim
They're strong and I'm weak

Like my voice
Trickling down
The well of society

Like my heart
With all of its
Constant anxiety

Like the words
Of my family
When they say I'm blessed

When they all know
I'm nothing but
Evanecse.
September Roses Mar 2018
Little house
Timeless street
Childhood garden

The scent of your preschool playground after a storm on a Wednesday in may

The distinguishable noise of your parents' doorbell

The weepy feeling looking at childhood photos and knowing you'll never get those moments back

The melancholy moment you realize the book you're reading was your favorite bedtime story

The second the atmosphere shifts and you're suddenly thrown back to memories of your mothers embrace on a stormy night

The suffocating feeling of revisiting tales thinning at the ends as your recollection slowly fades

The slipping grip of what once was that will never be again, slowly turning faded and acid washed until its nothing but a feeling you cant put a name to

Nostalgia
Helena May 2018
like yellow flowers
on faded dreams
you came to me
gently,
with the soothing voice
of a sweaty spring
thank you, old friend
for being able to be
dark enough to see
the hidden light
in me

i will not go into the times we shared
asphyxia and summer air
juxtaposed to form
an inseparable pair

who am I, old friend
when the ship´s horn blares
if you made me who I am
(if you made me scarce)

like yellow flowers
on faded dreams
you left me
softly, without
any warning of
the lack of color
(there would be)
without your splendor
Shea Feb 3
I could run away or stay
Living like a moth to a flame.
I always try to chase the light,
But the light has burned out.
And these days I'm stuck in old ways,
So where a light used to be
Is where I sit patiently
In the dark
Hoping for a flickering flame.
Poetic T Aug 2018
liquid love poured from
           seeping fissures.
And she tasted his every moment.

He gave his essence so she could
       linger within a lifetime of memoires.
And she saw every pain of his existence.

Within her tears were reflections of his
            momentary happiness with her.
Knowing she would drain his pain away.


"To collect the pain of another
         is to know the true emotions
         of what its like to live within there anguish
"

We only know those we love truly by tasting
        the dirt left behind in there footsteps.
Everyone has prints in the past wished brushed away.
Next page