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onlylovepoetry Sep 2019
“never lament casually”

Leonard Cohen


the serious are plenty burdensome,
so if the flight delayed, or the device batteries,
moments away from recognizing that
0% is still a viable digit with a special meaning,
these, none deserving of deploring the human condition

but the weight of leaving her in cold Montreal,
while old promises made, demand a presence in L.A.,
freezey veins, icy cracking inspiration attempts in vain,
all the unrecognizable for crying out loud verses on a
cocktail napkin scribbled, watching ink letters wet melting

your wants simplest, fireplace warmth snap cackling
pop love songs verses for her, the sheets of her dark skin,
silken on your tongue, the wetness of her Oh’s,
left a connect-the-dots map from your nose to toes,
but her fingertip markers, now a thousand miles away,
busy throwing up to the sky, hands filled with leaves of
crisp falling colors assortment, only the colorless no’s left

they play a tune you wrote years ago on the lounge speakers,
modified, wordless, so it’s innocuous, background harmless,
this axes paper cuts on your private places where the songs get
birthed, and now your whole package is tonnage measurable,
the lamentations serious, serious constellations, etching a new song


<>

“for the relearning is the crown jew-el,
that jesters rob from their kingly masters,
pride in love is the fall season preceding
Canadian winters, always thinking
you know better, be better at keeping warm,
this time which is the next time

you cannot learn from love,
cause it’s twice, two times,
never the same,
past lessons ain’t no prologue,
the body is maybe in the wafers,
sometimes vanilla,
sometimes chocolate

and the epilogue is
100% of the  poem~songs
that I loved writing
and hate remembering

9/10/19
Birumi Swati Apr 2019
Hey !
what are you laughing at?
Are you laughing at that girl
With freezey hair,
Baggy, over sized clothes?
You're Giggling meanly from behind
Because of those?

Her ragged dress is all you can see,
Her messy hair is all you notice,
Can't u see the pain in her eyes?

No she's not fortunate like you
To get the love of her mother
Or be pampered by her father

You  laugh at her *****,hardened hands?
Yeah those are the same hands
she puts on her lips
And cry every night silently.
As silent as the moon above her head.

Although just 13,
the little girl  is not fortunate like you
To run & complaint to anyone
When she's mercilessly beaten up
By those, supposed to take care of her.

She waits for the nights
To lay awake under the stars
and remember her past
Her father, her mother
Those happy days.

What happened to life?
Why her world turned upside down?
Why is she so helpless and feeble
In this ever known town?

With a dust storm in her heart
She wakes up.
Yet another day to cope.
But she has her will and her strong hope.

You think she's weird,
cz she doesn't gigle in small jokes?
Oh she doesn't find them funny.
They don't amuse her anymore.
What's more amusing than this life?
What's more laughable
than her will of still going on?
Walking miles after miles
With blisters in her feet,
Along the desserted street.
Wearing
An worn out, torn out, old muddy sandle.
Yeah go on. Laugh at that too.

You think she didn't hear what you said?
She might be thick skinned
But sister she's not deaf.
And she knows it's ok to be different.

Struck by untimely age
That old soul, although 13
But feels like she has seen a lot
Lived a hundred lives
And left them behind one by one.

Now she has learnt to let go.
She has taught herself to grow.
She's taught herself to live alone.

Not look for a helping hand
Or reside in a castle of sand.
Though she has none to speak to
About her grims
She writes them down
About All her hopes and all her dreams.

One day she'll
stand by her friend
Who was bullided in school for being a boy and still having long hair.
One day She'll stand up for her friend  against unwanted stare.

She'll know,
No one should be subjected to torment.
Cz She knows it's ok to be different.

So go on.
Laugh and gigle at anyone you want.
Throw your hatred and your tont.
A bullie is all you'll ever see
While looking at the mirror.
And it'll make the poor little girl stronger.
Stronger than you can ever be.

— The End —