"forgivingly" poems
The solitary reminder,
a sole survivor,
hopeful-placed,
forgivingly encased
in little boxes decorative
hidden in plain sight
throughout our home.
Single and incomplete,
the lonesome leftovers,
openly hid upon bookshelf,
desk corners, fireplace mantels,
storage units of the
I am unlost,
I am unfound,
Raise your hand,
stand up and say
that is me,
that is me.
Minor treasure chests,
of carved wood, seashell real,
acquisitions of trips
to faraway places,
these boxes, they themselves,
visible but unremembered,
just there, no cares,
no one knows,
when or why.
that is me,
is that me?
Space fillers, memory taunts,
grandchildren's playthings, delight,
when they someday come visit,
weather and parents permitting,
finding keys for locks, doors,
from three homes ago.
Can they unlock me too?
Boxes hoard the things
we have lost, but cannot discard,
can't sacrifice, gotta keep,
an admixture of buttons,
dried flowers, faded notes that
once upon a time mattered,
shook someone's world...
Some kept in hope,
others, sequestered, lock-up,
jails that we are both
jailor and jailed,
the joke being on me.
Should we, you and I,
exchange these
cases histories of lost hopes, memories,
it would not be surprising,
if when opened,
the contents identical,
even if you are in Manila,
Leeds, places of need,
and yet,
we would be shocked,
asking,
*that is me,
is that me?*
Dec 9, 2013
Dec 9, 2013 at 6:34 AM UTC
I have been deeply
French-kissed
by the Sun.
My skin
unmistakably glistening,
reflecting;
the sensual moistness of her tongue.
Scorched by passion
from the very beginning.
A frenzied possession,
so deep,
now genetically smitten.
A torrid affair
by certain perceptions.
Unshakable,
defiantly unbreakable.
To wit questionable,
sometimes unbearable.
But...
I must confess
her kiss riles me,
and with it,
guilt
forgivingly
hails me.
Too,
the jealously of men
contorted,
merely
by
the sheer beauty
in her embrace.
?
I am at a loss, I despair,
I don't understand it.
Driven mad
simply,
by the affection of her face.
© Qwey.ku
May 30, 2014
May 30, 2014 at 3:52 AM UTC
I remember the naivety
It was like swimming in an ocean
The waves prelapsing onto my skin
Freezing cold
But I stayed.
I stayed in the water allowing my to nerves scream
Screaming for warmth.
Yet my body filled with lust told me to stay.
It began to become warmer
So I stayed in longer.
I had hoped it would fill the vulnerable space I had open.
I let it fill me with salty cold water.
The skin on my fingers and toes began to fold.
Whispering upon the folds worriedly
'Enough'.
I resisted
'ENOUGH' the folds screamed.
My legs begin to move towards the oceans shore.
The water droplets trickle down slowly but surely
My face,
My lips,
My body,
Now exposed to what used to be welcoming air.
The air now filled with angry wind, whips my body,
Harshly shouting 'Why, o why?'
'Why have you given your body to the ocean?'
My lips, unable to move shiver against the wind's whips.
'Guide me back' my hair says trembling with mercy, damp of water.
The wind's whips weaken.
'Follow the path',
'Follow the path of rightousness'
The wind forgivingly breathes into my lungs
Gasping, finally giving me the warmth and sweet taste of air
Feb 2, 2019
Feb 2, 2019 at 12:41 PM UTC
Ballerina's feet
are calloused
twisted
bruised and ugly from far too much use
My friends and I used to compare the carnage
which we called, forgivingly, feet
I was never much a dancer
Flexible, but ungainly
I could lift my leg over my head and hold it for a minute
keep time to music
but there was something about the rigidness of it that I never quite-
I loved it
sweet passion of a not so distant youth
and my feet were always the most battered
May 17, 2013
May 17, 2013 at 8:15 PM UTC
Most nights I am out cold... But I lie awake and staring into the blackness of the room. Wishing you were here with me, holding me as I nuzzle into your chest inhaling your sweet aroma. I roll over to see the illusion of you coming to kiss my forehead and I come back to reality as your lips never meet my sensitive skin. A tear streams down my cheek and my pillow catches it forgivingly as my blanket tightly hugs against my cold body.
Jul 19, 2015
Jul 19, 2015 at 6:12 AM UTC
I swing my hair in the car quite loudly
and Sing quite un forgivingly.
I parade my scars like tattoos,
do you want to touch them?
They feel quite strange!
Does it matter where I am from?
No I am not deranged!
I am just not ashamed.
Of course I want your attention
but i dont want your pity
I want your love,
and Thats what you can give me.
I'm to cool to hide my truths no matter how ugly
and if you try to tell me to pipe down
Well thats only going to bug me.
Mar 5, 2017
Mar 5, 2017 at 3:55 PM UTC
.
And I have died,
in antiquity,
and noone ached for me.
Some rejoiced,
young as I was, as I bled on the cross,
drenched in blood, in agony.
Not a single tear rolled down for me,
when they nailed my bones to yew,
the dzelats were singing sneeringly.
and I was smiling, forgivingly.
In that life so brief,
in that cauldron of hell
in the tarnished jaws
I begged for love with poetry,
fruitlessly.
And as I have perished
to all I have forgiven,
soaring to Third Heaven.
Into the mountains of crimson jade,
Barefoot with the angels I stroll,
It is raining milk and honey
on the squares of the city of gold,
just as it did before.
Here, there is no pain and misery,
resentment and poverty, fear and sin,
by the beautiful streams,
sweet fruits are blossoming,
here, love is always waiting for you
when you come to stay from far, far away.
Saša Milivojev
Translated by Ljubica Yentl Tinska
www.sasamilivojev.com
Copyright © by Saša Milivojev, 2022 - All Rights Reserved
Jun 19, 2022
Jun 19, 2022 at 5:15 PM UTC
I can only dream what it's like to be loved
Or what it's like to be kissed, to be missed, or to even be hugged
Yes I know these affections can come from family and friends
But I would like to feel that love from a lover: a boyfriend
Unrealistic dreams in the thoughts of a young girl
Hoping to find her Prince Charming in this world
But if not that's okay, she will forgivingly move on
But she will continue to think about him for eternity from dusk till dawn
Dec 16, 2014
Dec 16, 2014 at 8:55 PM UTC