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Arianna Nov 2018
The time has come:

          I lay the golden fare upon thy lids,
          A jasmine blossom between thy lips.
          Two lilies I place
          'Twixt thy lily hands,
          And a single rose
                    Snow white, with petals of fallen stars
          I lay across thy breast.

          The gauzy shroud
          Thrown o'er thy form,
          Now unperturbed, lying still in the longboat
          Between thy shield and sword...

          The time has come.

                    We shall never meet more.

          Fare thee well:
          Thou goest to the heart of shadows,
          Led onward by the baying
          Of those fearsome hounds
          Haunting the black depths.

          Some naiad tugs at the prow,
          And as the dark currents of the river
          Bear thee off from shore,

          How I wonder!

                    That the weight of grief
                    Does not drag all the world with it
                    In your wake
                    To the ocean floor...
A 3 a.m. story.
Seasons pass one after another
Hope leaps like the grass that grows sweet and green
Shaking the earth beneath the flowering plums of spring

As the sun conquers the sky,
Its eyes wander the heavens with pure apathy
My life is all dried up in midst of bustling summer

While the wind stirs whispers to the trees
Autumn walked the earth with rage, perishing the colorful leaves
It withers and falls along with my hope, cries of annihilation howls the skies

Winter has impaled the world with its bare fingers
The silver hue dominated the sky, crystal snow falls silently
The world grew colder, so did my heart

Dear, my repugnant past, I bid you this poem of farewell
For in the next season, a flower will bloom to tell a poem of hope
But it will never die out, even if it is starved of sunlight
A poem of farewell
Joel Jan 29
Watch me fly lonely bird
Sing not to the black souls
I should prey no more
If I fall you’ll go
The tall wind will take you home
If you fly I’ll go.
Lily Flower Mar 2018
How does it feel, walking the rainwashed streets without me ?
I hope your hand is comfortable in your pocket,
Or a hand you chose over mine.
On the dining table we never dined
"together", its warmth froze in my heart.
The soup always went cold
and I counted every single bean
Never seen, or tasted before .
I binned the beans and bid them farewell.
I went back to my cold bed
and felt my head explode
and felt my body twitch in need
Oh honey! Lest your soup go cold
Lest you count your beans.
I ate the trashed beans and beamed.
How could I trash the green of your eyes that spoke through the beans?
I think I'll leave the empty bed for sale
It's a free life in jail
without you in my veins.
With me in your dustbin
As the grey sky rains.
This hurts beyond reason. It hurts that I never got to be with the man I deeply loved, because of distance and disease. This hurts that everything's ruined..
(to the hours spent
feeling alive;
to the cities i admired
and their streets that changed me;
to the thoughts that moved me
the arts that made me cry
the ideas that disturbed me;
to the unforgettable joy of living a dream;
to the dreams that became true
and the truths that became better than dreams;
to the sorrows that wounded me;
to the tears that didn’t wash the pain away
and to the kind words that did;
to the people who dared to share with me
childhood memories
views on the universe
stories about old lovers
secrets of their beautiful minds;
to the depths of those alluring souls;
to those who offered their days and nights to me;
to the ones i disappointed
(i’m sorry);
to the ones i hurt
(i’m sorry);
to the ones i never apologised to
(i’m sorry);
to all those who never asked
for an apology
for an explanation
for anything in return
(i’m sorry) thank you
for being there
for opening your arms
for listening
for caring;
to the friendships that endured
and the ones that failed to;
to the dearest of friends i loved
and cared for;
to those who stood by me
and to those who understood;
to the foolish heart that loved;
to its courage to break
and its strength to mend;
to the poems i wrote
and the boys i dedicated them to;
to the lips i kissed
and the kisses i longed for;
to the parties i remember
and the sleepless nights i don’t;
to the late-night wanderings;
to the turquoise sunrises
the crimson sunsets
and all the adventures inbetween;
to the drunken celebrations
of youth
of summer
and winter
of brithdays
of weekends
and weekdays;
to all the first times
and all the last tries;
to all the magical moments)
to 2018.
december 31st 2018
Shiloh Reeves Jul 2018
It's lonely at the top they tell me--- I'm already a pretty sad guy.

It's chaotic at the bottom & I've grown sick of it.

This farewell is my own decision.
A decision to divorce the past.
A decision to secure my future.

I’d rather die than conform like some of you already have.
Late night thoughts.
Because I'm better at being all alone
Than living up to someones expectations
And that's not living at all
They will drown you in plastic
To cover your flaws
I'm sure thats a job that lasts all year long
And I've got lots of them
Time to conjure one last acceptance speech
I'd like to thank the industry
for teaching me how to sleep with sheep
I'd like to thank the machines
For making, able bodied apes think this laziness is okay
I'd like to thank the dawn of a new age
Where hope is holding on with bruised fingers
Though we cheer passionately from the sidelines we wouldn't dare go up there to help it
I yell until passion wells
In the eyes of the wealthy who couldnt imagine a life that wasnt paved and pre packaged for them
But a single moment washed over us ,and so we lowered our
Heads to let it
Sink to the bottom
Now to unlock our DNA strands
Standing in a perfect circle
A surge of energy immersed us in the ability to understand what we weren't certain of
Electricity fizzed from our finger tips and now we're seeing this
Is being amongst brothers, sisters, and friends
No longer strangers, haters, liars or saints. Saints who sin .just creatures each was cursed with consiousness; in constant connection, we met to
Shed the skin of society chip at the obsession with illusion of time so we can finally aquire the tribesman lifestyle, simple, yet well earned we listen to the wind and learn from the Earth
I accept it as perfection
And think that pain is a hurt stray waiting in windowsills
Praying that peace will fill
Some lonely girls chest
Though she too was begging
To rescue something other than herself
To love is to welcome the infedel
With open arms
To love is to become and see
from each soul, go and leave  
yo tremendous
Ego half dead at the last show  
Now we reaching deeply to all walks of life, argue bout the art of hard knock life, weather lazy fate will win or through some luck find the strength to fight
Keep on getting beat down
But I rise up Everytime

Oh come on come at me I needa scapegoat for my anger
You came to play huh?
Wait til i load these lungs
lets release a contagion of language
if it's a virus anyway let's get sick and stain the papyrus with inkblots and secrets lost under my mumbles so I'm bout bankrupt on selling my emtions
To get well..very unprepared
I know, but under the surface I'm working on a dwelling I can go
To escape the ****
Here she comes they call it
The inevitable farewell
I accept the plane is powering down
Thank you for the freedom to scream my thoughts loudly
Though the crowd might be lousy
At listening
This time we've tried Bonding
Instead Of repeating
To all of my survivors
Alive and well still wandering
Among the wreckage and can't quit bettering the new new
I accept you and respect you
So until our next hello my friend
Regretfully I bid you and the world farwell
andisashayi Aug 2018
A notice for the rest is being written on the back of a shop receipt; for food we've had to make do with bread and cheese, and nothing to drink (we never did get drunk together).
This is an easy kind of sadness. No speeches, no fanfare. Neither of us are dressed for that.
carbonrain Jan 5
I love her.
I want to wake up next to her.
But last night we didn't say see you later,
we said goodbye.
Zachery-Kun Oct 2018
Simply speaking,
Even dreaming
There they die
Wave goodbye
Farewell innocence
Pay my penance
I have some issues. Under a fake name I express.
Farook Suyarov Sep 2018
A month or two, till now, i hated gnawing sunrays,
rushed to a spot of shade,
waited impatiently for the time to come,
when the cool air would tame the raging sun.
As the summer aproached its end,
i ******* find the fever to hate.
I loathed 'him' much,
but it gives me pain
to see 'his' vigour fade away.
And i can't stand the sight of 'his' draining eyes,
pathetic choking of failing life.
Brody Blue Jun 2018
Must we go on believing
That the best is yet to come
When we both know for certain
All there ever was is done?
Because whatever we were meant to be
We never had a prayer;
You weren’t where you said you’d be
And I was never there.

I don’t mean to let you have it
Like I did back when in Rome
But the line goes slack for no one
And a soft tongue breaks the bone
But as for holding onto fullness,
As for reaching for my hand
All attempts are vain and useless;
I am never where I am.

So leave your burdens where they lie
With the words you’ve memorized
We said when we knew we’d fly,
And we’d never die,
And it was meant to be,
But it was fantasy;
And it was destiny
That won the duel

My Beautiful Little Fool.
Farewell, my love; farewell, to you;
My Beautiful Little Fool.

And in spite of all that you’ve been taught,
And the bull that you have bought,
And everything you think you thought:
You are what you are naught;
And all the days to come,
And all of your wisdom,
Will not save you from
Your heart’s rule

My Beautiful Little Fool.
Farewell, my love; farewell, to you;
My Beautiful Little Fool.
A song about the skull beneath our skin
Bison Mar 2016
I woke up off Broadway.
Not that Broadway.
I made good on my farewell.
She said she would call.
I stumbled home in the morning light.
Hailed the sun as a friendly face.
The *** and ***** eked from my pores.
Leaving their mark on my muddled mind.
Like dirt in the puddle.
Oh how wasted my life has been.
I slept through the day.
Awoke in the early evening glow.
Refreshed and ready to take on the night again.
She didn't call.
She never called.
D Awanis Oct 2016
I remember they once told me that
music is the best time capsule

It's where people keep their secrets and feelings;
of their insecurities, their mistakes, their sadness, their first cut,
and even the wounds and bruises that invisible to the eye

It's where people let their wildest dreams alive;
of the one they can never reach, the one that will never come back, the one that got away without proper farewell

It's where people store their most sacred memories;
of their first kisses, their first love, their first dance, their first bucket of roses, their first heartbreaks

So they were right after all,

Music is dangerous, yet addicting; it can either tear you apart or put the pieces back altogether, it depends on what kind of ghosts living inside the interlude

Thus, be careful who you listen the music with
some melody is louder than the others
Today I played the music box you gave me on my seventeenth birthday. How odd it is to realize that music sometimes can be a time machine, how every strings and clinks bring me back to you—towards you
anemo ne Jun 2018
To what her words were softly spoken,
Weren’t they heard from the pulling ceiling?
It had no way to carry her softly upon shaken ground
he held onto what she last felt then,
past his hearing the searing heart reveled
In the last whimper of sadness
Gone was her feeling
tears had dripped over her face..
..Fallen from his grasp the black veil blew upward
he witnessed the blinds closing, her eyes watching
Overheard with great loudness she was deaf
Silence hurried the rush toward the floors liberation  
a sunlit evening wilted dry in prosperity..
In a timely fashion she was not heard anymore nor seen
The extraordinary pain I couldn’t understand then
If only..
She no longer knows where to go..
She’s gone unnoticed..
I can’t feel her presence anymore
yes, we’ll see another once again
From a pain stricken moment
Left in the vespertine
Along those painless places
Where all that lingers high above the ambience
Will be your very childlike presence
Shown upon in your own exuberant smile
Thenceforth into tomorrow
Farewell till then
I have but one thing to say, please be kind to others as you would like others to be toward you.
And another thing, leap forward out of your comfort zone to help someone from leaping off the marked ledge of ‘enough’. It happens too often and I could say I know the reasons why, for others for their sake if only I could take on their pain. complicated is life huh.

—seeing her fall through hopelessly murmuring what would be her final words to the man striving to hold onto her pleading for her to stay within his grasp, she simply didn’t want to hold on anymore, tired by life’s hard trials. So am I. isn’t everyone
Adrian Betz Jun 2018
Tell them soon I won’t be home this night
And relieve me of the burden, the bitter farewell
Comfort them, a calming voice such as yours
Will be all it needs to keep sorrows away

Tenderest tides, so timelessly fleeting
A yearning verse with an endless story to tell
Purple moonlight, the shores of a cleansed sea
Woeful the sighs sung to the horizons afar

Eternal solstice
Harbor of the distant, pale blue sight
Come under this softest blanket there to see
Where the tale of the first scribe came to be

Separate seams holding the same cloth
Then I saw my closest company wake
Fear not, still, before you I will hold my world
Hand in hand with my messenger, my friend

Snow-white stairs, a valley of figurantes
A stellar choir with the quietest piece to play
Come now the breath of a warmly greeting fall
Inviting me to witness the cycle begin anew

Eternal solstice
Harbor of the distant, pale blue sight
Come under this softest blanket there to see
Where the tale of the first scribe came to be

Sing me to sleep with peaceful times
Another one then might finally begin

Eternal solstice
Harbor of the distant, pale blue sight
Come under this softest blanket there to see
Where the tale of the first scribe came to be

©2018, Adrian Betz
zebra Mar 2018
I'm a black dog
with a torn heart

are carved out of light
heavier then rocks

my bowels
a crumbling fortress

in my emptiness
make my blood run down dark gutters
to the city of your legs
pooling at your soft pink feet

i strain in prayer
for your love
a black dog in panic

i run seven miles a day
to **** you
my body lean and wire muscle wet
women look on dreaming
as i search for you in their faces

i run killing myself
till your dead
all curving sadness
and broken creel

a hallowed
crypt of desolation

a sword through me

Pigeon Sep 2015
Oh, I'm a blackbird singing in the dead of night but my voice is shot
I'm a river-stone that's all alone and skipped over more often than not
I'm a bird flying off of a bridge and a pendulum swinging from my ceiling
Because only bidding everything farewell can help the way I'm feeling
Cné Jun 2017
Evening has subsided with a whisper in the west.
It chased the sunset's final rays as she prepared for rest.

Night has dropped her curtain but the moon has come to play.
The overture begins, as lonely crickets have their way.

The breeze begins to soften and the grass is standing still.
The leaves no longer beckon in the trees upon the hill.

I huddle in the darkness and await the rising wind.
A prayer is formed upon my lips, in homage to a friend.

And there ... I feel the sweet caress, a hand upon my cheek
A breeze that comes from someone ... from the passing soul, I seek.

And as I watch the lingering stars and hear the rustling leaves
I know that she has left this world and heavenward, she weaves.

I bid farewell to one, who loved this life, and all it gave
I dedicate this poem to her and toward the moon, I wave.
...and her memory, I save
i went back and forth on the last line.
RIP Carrie
forever in my heart, sweet one
you shall remain young
For as long as I can remember
You've been by my side
I helped raise you when we were young
And you raised me in turn.

Through thick and thin,
Through fire and flames,
You've always been there for me
We've always had each other.

But when I went to wake you up,
your body was cold and stiff
i wish it was a dream

i picked you up and held you close, and cried,
and cried,
and my friend, i have not stopped crying since

farewell my friend,
i wish for us to meet again
I grew up alongside my cat Halo, who died this morning. This poem is dedicated to her.
Cné Dec 2017
Daylight, it seems seldom seen
Your absence tells which season's close
Time to reflect on months gone by,
Darken thoughts begin to flow

Passing smiles caught through busy streets
Searching for warmth indoors in front of fires
Glasses clink, toasting the year's end
Solemn thoughts of moments never shared

One last farewell, to yet another year
It's late now, a window candle is lit
One more drink poured, the last stories shared
Another year, things change, the same thoughts afflict
Terry O'Leary Sep 2014
Sweet Butterfly, with wings now dry 'tis time to break away
and light upon the leaves of dawn while weeping willows sway,
not reminisce 'bout chrysalis discarded yesterday,
but treasure life, with colors rife in nature's cabaret.

Sweet Butterfly, you sometimes sigh "terrene so strange and new”,
but take a chance, with winged expanse of fairy-like bijou,
to taste delight in random flight, to drift beyond the blue
and then collect her ***** nectar, sipped in morning dew.

Sweet Butterfly, you question why the breeze is seldom soft
when swirling you, your wings askew, while floating free aloft.
Some seem to find their peace of mind believing gods have coughed,
but others, downed, have often found more freedom when they've scoffed.

Sweet Butterfly, you needn't cry, the fields are full of clover,
and meadowlands bare braided strands that winds in waves flow over -
but if you fear that, more than here, another mead is mauver,
just flutter by, beneath the sky, unfettered flitting rover.

Sweet Butterfly, farewell, goodbye, you've left this world behind.
I oft gaze back along the track of flowers that you've mined
recalling days of light sashays and movements unconfined
that complement the firmament where beauty lies enshrined.
Lazhar Bouazzi Jun 2016
As the shape all sun
tore up the curtain
of blood and ululation,
everything in Tunisia,
as stricken by a wand,
came to a standstill,
and slipped away
from the senses -
Even rivers stopped.

Medjerda* froze
through the descent
to his destination,
as he realized
he’d been making a fatal error:
pouring forth all his passion
into the ocean.

So he stopped,
retracted his course,
re-collected himself,
and started flowing backward,
the source
in the Atlas
that had bidden him

In his spear head
there was a design:
start a new chaos
in the valley,
in which there would be
a sweet-water lake
and sailors drunk
with sunbeams, sweat
and pleasure.
Butterflies would flutter
around the scent of mint
and bluegreen rosemary.
Sweet Moon to Sweet Lake
would come, unannounced,
In the rays of the nightlight
of the fluttering night
to watch her self
the scene
of representation.

The river, now swimming
in his own water,  
carried the sky on his shoulder,
while an ant and a grasshopper,
holding a basket together,
watched the new scene.

As the figure all sun appeared ,
reason melted;
her hazel eyes opened.

*Medjerda is the most important river in Tunisia. Length, 460 km; basin area, 22,000 sq km. It flows out of the Atlas mountains into the Gulf of Tunis.
© LazharBouazzi, June 16, 2016
*Medjerda is the most important river in Tunisia. Length, 460 km; basin area, 22,000 sq km. It flows out of the Atlas mountains into the Gulf of Tunis.
Riss Oct 2018
I finally grew the courage to slowly release my grip
Peering down at my hands in shame
Observing the open slices across my palms
Overlaying countless scars
That have taken time to heal on their own.

Seems I’ve been here before
But why I am no longer able to retrieve those distant memories?
Those scars
So deep
I must be able to trace back.


In this moment
The fresh wounds catch my eye once more
And they hold my attention longer this time
For I begin to feel the pain they must have been causing me all along.


Too focused on a fantasy
What could’ve been
What should’ve been?
And so I must have thought
Hold tighter
In fear that a looser grip would leave me helpless
Crashing to the ground below.


Finally able to see clearer
I realize that despite my intention
And my insecurity
Holding on to you
Fearing uncertainty
Was merely holding me back.

I was created to fly on my own.
M Jun 2018
Greetings audience.
I am off my medication now and I am feeling vastly better. Something just cleared my conscious and vascular blockage so joyously. I will not be posting videos due to my camera and devices breaking. No diatribes nor any vitriolic comments were conferred during my time gone throughout my family and my peers, assuming that is the reason I am now healthy (dropping toxic ties). Unluckily, all of my social media was hacked. Refrain from following anything linked with my name. Indeed, I am not here to bloviate, rather to celebrate. Thank you for your cooperation. I will now go play childishly. Farewell. : )
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