"karsten" poems
I fear not having time one day to enjoy myself
Not having time to lay with my husband
Or run through a few casual dungeons in WoW
Or just rest for a little while
I fear not having kids before 30
When 30 comes family history says I'll get a hysterectomy
All I want to do is be a housewife
And a mother
A homemaker
I fear that one of my best friend will just disappear
Maybe because I pushed him away
Or because he got bored with our conversations
Or maybe he just never cared
It hurts to think about Null
How I pushed him away
And he did so much for me
I never got to tell him thank you
Or how much I truly appreciated him
It hurts to think about how Papa died so early in my life
We could've had so many fantastic conversations
I could've learned so much
It hurts to think about the last conversation that I had with Papa
I didn't know how to talk to him when he was dying
So I cut the conversation short
I should've never done that
I fear that I'll never see them again
That I'll never get to say I'm sorry
That I'll never get to say I love you
That I'll never get to hear You're okay from them again
But you know it's nice to think about Karsten
The man I love
Not platonically like Null
Or in a family way like Papa
Something in-between
Something romantic
I love him
He's my best friend
We're romantically involved
I could spend the reset of my life with him
I just hope I can make it work
That we can make it work
So yeah life isn't all happiness
And I have fears
And pain
They'll stay with me forever
But because of people like Karsten
And my Mother
And so many others
Life can be bright
And it is worth it
Feb 21, 2015
Feb 21, 2015 at 3:19 AM UTC
Chiara, Arturo's wife, approached them together with
Lucca and Francesca, the other Italian pair
Saying, ''Was Quare's invention real? I thought it was a myth.''
'' His barometer measures the pressure of the air.''
Chiara was wearing a red gown, with lace trimming the low,
A green velvet mantel, which was lined with some ermine,
Square neckline and sleeves, which were gathered at the elbow.
She spoke well Italian, Spanish, and German.
Italians wanted to disembark at Syracuse.
Bella and Miguel traveled to Barcelona home.
To find a new home, Naimah and his son had an excuse.
Out of their Turkey's limit, through the storms, they would roam.
Tia, Athan, Megan, and Karsten would disembark
At Selanik, an Ottoman province, where Ahmed
The Third was reigning while his war was a fire in the dark.
They were Greeks being born during the reign of Mehmed.
Marco and Rosa, Cruz and Pedra, Pedro and Carla
Were Portuguese pairs coming home from America.
They had bought from the Pueblo Indians some ollas.
They gave one to the Russian pair, Ivan, and Erica.
Ivan said, ''Tell me something about these Indians.''
Carla said, ''Their belief means dualism; they eat corn.
Some became Catholic due to the Spanish civilians.
They think they emerged from underwater to be born.''
Carla wore a black cap, having a veil, and a green gown
Patterned with acorns and flowers, and her sleeves were caught
With jeweled clasps on lace at the elbow; her eyes were brown.
''The water is fresh in the ollas, I like them a lot.''
She asked Ivan’’ Now, where do you go? ’’ ‘’We left the war.’’
''Ahmed and Peter the First! '' replied Cruz, '' tell me something,
How could you reach Constantinople after coming from far? ''
''I do trade with them, but this war destroyed everything.''
''Did you lose everything you had? '' Marco asked Ivan.
''To make business in Turkey, I sold all my Russian goods.''
Erica tried this conversation to enliven,
''In Portugal, we'll search for a job in cities and hoods.''
Marco wore a banyan with a patterned lining; his cuffs
Were embroidered in gold; his justacorps and stockings
Over his breeches were red like Rosa's shoes and muffs.
All of them wore periwigs and talked a lot while walking.
( To be continued...)
Poem by Marieta Maglas
Jun 19, 2015
Jun 19, 2015 at 8:54 PM UTC