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Hisham Alshaikh Jul 2018
You laugh
Angels weep out of jealousy
Devils have no single conspiracy
Demons dancing in harmony
Men hearts go broken with no remedy
Women eyes tearing continuously
Violins break out of envy terribly
Composers have no more creativity
Music plays with no melody
Silence starts listening joyfully
Happiness laughters left in agony
Beautiful words describe nothing but misery
Tulip flowers become colorless shamefully
Believers lose their faith immediately
Infidels drop their convictions instantly
Hearts start beating rapidly
Lungs oxygenating quickly
Living ones laying listening carefully
The dead come back miraculously

--Hisham Alshaikh
You Laugh. Version 1.
Sarah Isma May 2018
I’ve now grown and I turned out alright
But one day I came to realize
That this was not a smooth flight
And the scary things that I saw
Is the reason why I held on to my seat so tight
Now here are the few things
That made me hate this horrible, terrible ride
        The fact once you realize
that your parents are sometimes never right.
To see that they are flawed beings, with broken wings and ****** mistakes.
To realize the truths and the smiles they fake,
Growing up to see only the image portrayed- was only for your sake.
They hide the tears and shower us with laughters
They told us joyful stories and happily ever afters,
But just as soon as i grow
Only now that I understand they were telling their own dreams,
        That had slipped right out their fingers
So ask me what’s the saddest part growing up?
To see the hollow sadness from the two people,
who once i thought was happiest.
i never really knew how much things could effect parents, the slightest action i could now see their subtle response- i understand now. Its just the fire in them burning out, only dim enough for them to keep me going- so i don't burn out too.
Piyush Gahlot Sep 2018
I see you here,
Just beside me near,
Your soft voice I can hear,
Whispering my name in my ear.
I am drowning in your memories.

I hear your laughters,
I can hear you crying,
Still remember your hugs,
Your surprise kisses,
Beautiful scene of you making your hair,
Baby em drowning in your memories.

I miss your stupid face,
Your innocence and that grace
That slight grin,
Beautiful little chin,
Those perfect hair,
You making that stare.
Baby em drowning in your memories.

I loved you then,
I love you now,
Doesn't matter if you ain't near,
Losing you , I have no fear.
But yeah em drowning in your memories.
Missing her close near. She ain't comming back. All I have is her memories. Still I feel she is with me somewhere.
Mercury Chap Jun 2015
All those laughters
Are not always real
All those faces in a park,
Wrinkled and weary,
Laugh in a circle,
Devoid of happiness,
No sign of a crinkle,
Eyes without light,
Devoid of life.

Their happy sadness echoes,
On the streets, in apartements,
The dismal vibes reach us
Yet they emanate the fake sentiments.

Stoop a little and evesdrop that circle,
They deceive emotions, black and purple,
All you hear is a shouting troop,
We know the truth of a laughing group.
Are the people in a laughing group really happy?
Whatever you do always say a little prayer,
read poetry - read between the lines
and watch the stars in the night sky
you'll be amazed how many friends
will find their way into your heart
friends who'll never leave you for the world;
friends like love-joy and quiet-laughters
Frustrated Poet Aug 2014
This girl whom they thought
Was always whole,
Giving smiles and laughters
And of love was full

She blends her blues
With the night's darkness
Called the meteors for wishing
Wandered the unknown farthest.

Another day
Tomorrow a sunrise
Time to put on the mask
Give them a show
Fake a smile.
Isabelle Apr 2016
Some people are bound to meet each other,
but never destined to be together..
~Unknown*



We both thought that we will have a happy ending,
But it was just an "ending"
This ain't a fairy tale
I agree, that life isn't always fair


We may not be together now,
But memories of you, in my heart I still allow
As they always say,
Some people in our lives, are not meant to stay


Still, I am thankful
For I met a person like you
and experienced a once in a lifetime love
Witnessed by the sky and stars above
Our love story will forever linger in the winds
Our laughters will still echo in our minds
Our tears will still pour through the rains
And I will try to keep us, whatever remains
Even just in my memories
Bittersweet,
Cruel is the game of fate
Silence, beautiful voice!
Be hard and still, for thou only troublest the mind,
And within such a joy I cannot rejoice,
a glory I shall not find.

Catch not my breath, o clamorous heart;
for thou art more horrendous than the horrendous,
and thy mourning over this heavy breath is far too hard,
but sounding alternately irresolute and pretentious.
Thou needst not be my ultimate, though doleful, present;
thou art wicked and frail as the serpent;
I shall let thy tongue be a thrall to my eye,
but vex thee greedily 'till thou benevolently saith goodbye.
I shall makest thee angry and giveth in to anger and lie
and let thee search about within my soul, and die.

Ah! Still, I shall listen to thee once more,
But move, I entreat; to the meadow and fall before
Thy feet on the meadow grass and adore
Bring my heart to thy heat but not make it sore
Not thine, which are neither courtly nor kind;
not mine, for thy youth still, makest me sweet and blind.
Oh, if only thou couldst be so sweet,
and thy smile all the worldliness I dreamt,
For it all wouldst no longer be stormy and pale,
or threatened be, to vanish amongst such winds or ghastly gales;
Ah, yon fairness wouldst be fair,
and scented as sweetly as thy hair.

Whom but thee, again, I should meet
Whenst at stormy nights sunset burneth
At the end of the head village street,
Whom I should meet behind the red ferns?
For I believest, in such boundlessness of fate
Fate that worlds cannot deny, and grudge cannot hate.
And, I believest indeed, my darling shall be there,
to touch he, shall my hand so sweet,
He bowest to me and utterest holy amends
To his future lover, but less than meekly hesitant; friend.

What if with his sunny hair
He connivest for me a snare
Who wouldst hath thought locks of gold so fair
Huddled and curved cozily by hands of care
Immersed in silver, tailored in gold
Even darker than toil, but sharper than words
Wouldst throw in my way pranks and deceit
As to his expectations I couldst not meet?
Wouldst he expect me to stand in the snow that couldst bite
and criest for and cursest him, in the middle of furious nights?

And what if with his sunny smile
Which he refineth with sweetness all the while
And with such an ostentatious remorse
That makest truthful delight even worse
He stealest my heart and makest me swear
So for any other I ought not to care
And my tears shall again be conceived in between
In the eternal mirror of revelling seasons, unseen
Knowing not what it hath done, or where it hath been
What if seas and clouds turnest just they are, so mean?

And imprisoned up and above
I shall hearest beloved Lord talk of the futility of love
And He shall oftentimes stop and mirthlessly laugh
Ruining the castles and puzzles and stories I dreamt of
If distances are not too far to walk to
I shall darest to cross my sphere and get over you
But sins hath perhaps forbidden my courteous intentions
As their meanness swayest me around with no destination-
ah, look at how their vile, grinning eyes temptest me!
They itchest my veins, they throttlest my knees;
and how uncivilly their ****** teeth hauntest me!
Indeedst, indeedst-they are far more horrendous than these living eyes canst see!

Perhaps his smile and tender tone
Were all that I imagined alone
Now that all spells hath grimly gone
Am I truly left on my own?
Ah, prone, prone is truly my soul
But I am distant here, lonely and cold
I am also strong but this solitude is too bold
I hath always been awake with truth, but this I cannot fold
And hovering dancing leaves are grotesquely thrown
About their echoing chambers opened wide
Until more rueful gravity has grown;
and hilarity fades wholly from my side

Once we came to the bench by the rouge church
And sat for hours by the wooden pillar alone
We sang along with the singing white birds
And those strangely blushing red thorns
'Till we fought everything burdened and curtly torn
As how the moon hurriedly cried 'till it found the morn
'Till suddenly, sweetly my heart beat stronger
And thicker, 'till I almost heard it no longer
But I realised, and fast mused and sighed
'No, it cannot stayest long, it cannot be pride.'

T'en we walked a mile-
Just a mile from the moors,
Circling about to find some exile
Away from noises and banging of doors.
We both pleaded, pleaded to our dear Lord
T'at genuine love our hearts couldst afford
But time grew envious and cut our walk short
As night approached and we suddenly had to resort.

And he too, he too was mad
And frowned and twitched that so made me sad
Endlessly alone he wouldst blame me and more fret
Sending myself down and brimmed with regrets
Like a parrot shuffling about its offspring's dying bed
My eyes grew warm and hurtful and red
Anger betrothed him to its indignant powers
Corrupted his cheers and drank away his laughters
I was furious, I cursed and kicked frantically at fate
How it grossly tainted and strained my tenuous date
For it was tenuous and I struggled to makest it strong;
but fate shamefully ripped it and all the triumph I'd woven, all along.

And losing him was indeedst everything,
nothing distracted me and kept my jostled self going.
I feelest lethargic even in my sleep,
I keepest falling from rocks in my dreams-ah, too leafy and steep!
I dreamest of suburbs that are rich with divine foliage,
I rejoicest in whose tranquil, though transient, merriment.
And as morn retreatest, I shall be again filled with rage,
I refusest to eat and enjoy even a slice of everyday's enjoyment.
I am now wholly conquered by worry; I was torn and lost in my own battlefield,
I hath no more guard that shall lift me upwards and grant me his shield.
Ah, I hath now been turned, to a whole nonentity;
at my wounds people shall turn away, with a foolish laugh and mock sorry.

O, love, and I am now vainly stuck in the night,
The night that refusest to leave my tired sight.
The night that keepest returning the dark
with no more hope of reflective sight,
and no more signs pertinent burning light,
and sick I'th become, of this jealous dread.
But am I really sick now? Utterly sick of this lonesome envy?
Ah, still I better refusest to know. My dreams are bad.
The shapes in there are far too inglorious and mad.
Just like those-ah! Do not let them harm me!
Where are my eyes? My very heart, my own blood,
and perhaps, my thorough sense of humanity?
One second back they were all still with me,
but they are all now ruined phantoms and shapes,
whenever I am fast asleep,
he turnest them out like obedient sheep
and handest them to the unseen to be *****.
He was neither sincere nor tactful,
and believed too heartly in his odious and ill-coloured soul.
Ah, but duly shall I even call this season harmful,
sorrows rule our hands, whilst distaste reign our men.
Disgrace ownest its peaks, within gratuitous handfuls,
men knowest not their lovers, speakest not of us as friends.
Ah, this is a bitter spring indeed, of anger and fear;
With thousands of evil tongues and evil ears,
For lovers are at war with their lovers,
and makest each others' eyes unseeing and blind.
Even God, our lovely God himself, is at war with his heavens,
for whose minds are lost, as real conscience shall never ever find.

Where is my love? Ah, perhaps staggering under the woods,
And I, who else, shall be with him,
Gathering woodland lilies,
Prosperously blooming under the trees.
Where is my heart? Ah, it is carried again within him,
as we layest about the green grass on our limbs,
with oiled lamps at our feet,
and tellest stories as our loving eyes lean closer and meet.

Ah, beauty! That is the picture in my mind,
not him, not him, that has sent me blind.
Still the image of him makes me sick,
his image that is as stony and greedy as a brick.

He has no feelings, he has no emotion,
he has no endurance and twists of natural passion.
He has all the strength and virility the world ever wanted,
but his mind remainst cold, his heart his own self once entered.
He is as unjust as a statue,
he knowest not wrong and right, nor false from true.
For whilst I tried to praise his being so comely,
he took all my remarks sedately,
he gazed at me with an arrogant face snarling,
and praised the gentleness of his own darling.

He is unthinking, savage, and unfeeling,
his face a human, his heart a brute.
He might be all the way comely and charming,
too pitiful he is inhuman and acts like a crude.
My fancy was sometimes real overbold,
for whenst I was to coo and hold, he was but to scream and scold.
Scorned, to be scorned by one that I not scorn,
whenst all this passion my shoulder had borne?
It is unfair and ignominiously hateful,
gross and unjust, horrid and spiteful.
A fool I am, to be unvexed with his pride!
And once, during repetitive daylight,
I past him, one day I was crossing his lands,
I did look at him not as a gentleman,
He was laughing at his own tediousness,
I dreaded him for that, but as I came home
later, I cried again, over his picture with madness.

Ah! How couldst I ever forget him,
whenst he is but the one I love?
No matter how strange this may seem,
he was the one I real dreamt of;
I want to love him not in a dream,
I want to touch him in his flesh.
I want to smell that scent of him,
and breathe onto his lap and his chest.
I want to sit in his oak-room,
and tellest him of stories of glad and gloom,
before the ocean-waves afar laid
next to quiet storms, amidst our private delight.
I want to have him selfishly!
Have him laugh endlessly with me,
and all the way love him madly;
with a heart so dearly but greedy.

What, if he fastened himself to this fool dame,
and bask in her infamous joy, and fame
Should I love him so well, if he
gave her heart to a thing so low?
Should I let him again smile at me
If we are bound to see each other tomorrow?
His smile, at times can be full of spite
Yet in spite of spite, he is all but comely and white;
I miss him, I miss him as just how I miss my dream,
He is, though marred, is just as sweet as I remember him,
I insist sorrow coming up to me,
To consolest and hearest here, my deepest plea
And ****** the most painful pain to he and she
And restore then, his innocent self to me.

I hearest no sound from where I am standing
But the rivulets and tiny drops of rain
Are starting to send moonlight to my whining
As I twitch and swirl and whirl about in the rain.
I watch people flock in and out the evening train;
their thoughts hidden, like all the mimicry in a quiet play.
Hearts full of glowing love, and at the same time, of disdain;
all pass by gates and bars and entrances with nothing serious to say.
Ah, perhaps I am the only one too melancholy,
for even at this busy hour think doth I, of such poetry.
Yet melancholy but real, for if I ever be dear to someone else,
then I decide that should I be, to myself, far dearer.
For I believe not tales another creature tells,
they can be lies, they can be unfairer.
Like a nutshell too hard for the very poor shell itself,
I do feel pity for him and his ignorant self.
Unlucky him, for I carest more for every puff of his breath,
no matter how eerie-and she, rejoices over
the bashful lapse, of his death.

My life hath crept so long on a broken wing
Through cells of madness, horror, and fear;
Fear that is brutal and insidious, though inviting
and lies that eyes cannot see nor ears hear;
My mood hath changed, at least at this time of year
As I'th stayed more about and dwelled mostly here
And my previous grief hath outgrown itself like a butterfly
Too I witnessed as It fluttered and flickered madly,
and at the very last moment, died silently 'midst its own fury;
All weeks long, I hath listened and learned tactfully more
Lessons that I hath never heard of, never before.

But still, hate I this severely clashing world;
too much torpor hath we all borne, and burning, virile hurt.
O down, down with laborious ambition and ******
Kiss this earth's silent layers and fold down our knees
Ah, darling, put down thy passion that makest thee Hell!
To all madness of thine thou should sayest, farewell-
Hesitate not, and leave thy curious, and agile state
Be honest and precise, be courteous and moderate.
Crush and demolish and burn all demonic hate
Thus instead cherish and welcome thy realistic fate.
Entertain thy love; with dozens and dozens of new, novelty!
Brush up thy pride, but leavest away, o, leavest away thy old vanity-
Ah, and profess thy love only to me, for it brings me delight
It returns my hope, and turns all my dissolutions to light.

And tease, tease me, and my frenetic, personal song
Though I but be a wounded thing-with a rancorous cry,
I am wretched and wretched, as thou hath hurt me all along
Sick, sick to the heart of this entire life, am I.
Many one hath preached my poor little heart down,
Neither any merriment is mine, 'mongst this serene county town.
My only friend is my oak-room bible, and its dear God
Who mockest frenetic riches rich at diamonds but poor at heart
With cries that rulest turning minds from each other apart;
and with wealth running away to selfishly savest their spoilt, cruel hearts-
o, how I am lucky-for I am destroyed, but not by my dear Lord;
I am healed and charmed by His generous frank words.

All seemest like a vague dream, but still a dear insight
For he, above all, taught me to see which one was right
I still miss him, and dearly hope that he canst somehow be my future poem
And together we shall fliest towards joy and escapest such unblessed doom;
His musical mouth is indeedst my song,
a song that I'th been singing intimately with, all along!
For this then shall I shall continue my pursuit,
with a grateful heart and so a considerate wit,
for I am sure now-that he is mine, and only mine,
and duly certain of these promising, though long, signs;
But now I feel my heart grow easier;
as it now embraces days in ways lovelier;
for I hath now awakened again, to a better mind,
so that everything is now to me just fine;
Still he bears all my love and intuitive goodwill,
yet how to waken my love, God knowest better still.
Dandelion May 2014
We used to be so close
We played and relied so much on each other
But time is so cruel
To create this deafening distance
A distance that seems so far
I am not that friend anymore

How have you been?
What have you been up to?
It seems like I won't be able to ask
Why has it gone this way
Its harsh I know
Its time where we have to part

I will treasure the times we had
The laughters and sorrows
The times where we tried to find ourselves
They are oh so precious to me
Your chapter in my life has come to a close
So farewell my friend

Hi my acquaintance
Your presence is valued
But then again it will never be the same
Lets just move on
So bye my acquaintance
Hope to see you again
Friends come and go. Though its hard to part with them but you know its time to let go once they have done their part in your life. Just a memory of these friends. Though we have drifted apart, I will treasure you, my friends turned acquaintances.
summer Apr 2015
Feeling the grains of the sand
under my toes
while cool waves rushes
unto my feet.  
summer breeze
touching my skin
makes me think
of your warm embrace..
of you being near..
sun rays
and clear sky
above the calm sea
brings the remnants of you and me..
how close we were together.
I could hear those laughters echoing,
dipping and splashing into the waters.
Footprints and sand castles,
written our name on it.
All those and more.
But as i look
at the vastness of sea,
also makes me feel
how far we are now.

Distant
silent
alone

One summer
that will never be the same again.
Breathe not, hid Heart: cease silently,
And though thy birth-hour beckons thee,
Sleep the long sleep:
The Doomsters heap
Travails and teens around us here,
And Time-Wraiths turn our songsingings to fear.

Hark, how the peoples surge and sigh,
And laughters fail, and greetings die;
Hopes dwindle; yea,
Faiths waste away,
Affections and enthusiasms numb:
Thou canst not mend these things if thou dost come.

Had I the ear of wombed souls
Ere their terrestrial chart unrolls,
And thou wert free
To cease, or be,
Then would I tell thee all I know,
And put it to thee: Wilt thou take Life so?

Vain vow! No hint of mine may hence
To theeward fly: to thy locked sense
Explain none can
Life’s pending plan:
Thou wilt thy ignorant entry make
Though skies spout fire and blood and nations quake.

Fain would I, dear, find some shut plot
Of earth’s wide wold for thee, where not
One tear, one qualm,
Should break the calm.
But I am weak as thou and bare;
No man can change the common lot to rare.

Must come and bide. And such are we—
Unreasoning, sanguine, visionary—
That I can hope
Health, love, friends, scope
In full for thee; can dream thou’lt find
Joys seldom yet attained by humankind!
epictails May 2015
Impermanence
—the shadow of everything that once was
the visitor who only sipped a little tea
dead leaves in autumn
someone who got away
despite begging him to stay
chipped paint in old walls
butterflies in their cocoon
trends that fill voids of the moment
but leave after they are forgone
suspended words in whispered talks
a child's wonder
faces with remarked lines
empty laughters turned into glistening tears
flesh to ashes, ashes to flesh
wines in glass bottles

—a beginning of everything that are to be,
cradle of brighter, better stories to come
as the pieces of long agos
are laid to rest
100th HP  poem . So glad to have been a part of this wonderful site where wonderful people just find wonderful reasons to write. 4 months into poetry and my love for writing could not be better. Thank you for everyone who made me grow and realize my  capacity. :)
Nelviee Mhunang Oct 2015
In those golden times
When you’re up and so fine
I remember you.

In your silence and solitude
Where you can’t be found
I remember you

In your laughters and smiles
Celebrating each victorious moment
I remember you

In your heartbreaks, pain
Frustrations and burden
I remember you

As you feel so broken
Picking up pieces of yourself
I remember you

When you’re on a pedestal
Chin up, Head high
I remember you

When you feel nervous
and sweat out a lot
I remember you

When you rub your nose
just because you’re shy
I remember you

Fake dimple, sweet smile
Enamoring brown eyes
I remember you

Fluffy tummy, **** arms
Simple stuffs i dearly love
I remember you

The gentlest giant I’ve ever known
with words like sugar cone
I remember you

So dear, so true
The only one
I am glad to remember you

As you reach out
along with those butterflies
I remember you

Hope this will not come as a surprise
It is felt rather than said
that i remember you

And there was never been a “never”
‘coz you’ll forever be always (always be forever)
and I remember you!
special poem made for his birthday :)


We all are LOVERz in the being of BELOVEDz



I keep your LOVE secrets
Hidden in the depth of my eyes
You place your ears on my heaving *******
Listening to your melodious heart-beats

I can't even share with anyone
The intimacy YOU share with me
NO one ever has dared, except YOU
To be brave to enter my skin pores
YOU courageous! - Even to my surprised
I surrendered to your LOVE

YOU LOVE me so much that
I want to end my life in your warm hug
The way your eyes shower LOVE on me
No one has ever seen me like YOU do
I seriously can't stand so much of LOVE
Just swallow me inside YOUR being

Your presence makes my knees go weak
With goose-humps on my skin
With butterflies in my stomach
I run to the bedroom, waiting for YOU

With your breathe touching my skin
Every time, you try to breach
My personal space and private boundaries
You sown seeds and buds bloom
From every cell of my body
Scenting fragrance all over YOU
Every pore of my body craves for YOU
Your graft branches on my soul-***
Flowering colorful blossoms on me

YOU tease me much
Showing so much gentleness and respect
In the way you pluck each flower from my being
You turn me blood red with your foreplay
I bleed YOUR tears begging you to LOVE more

I want you to serve me
I want to tear your back with my nails
I want you to make it happen
Release me in a moment from living
From all the struggles life serves me

Where were YOU all these years?
Now you are here, never leave me!

When your breathe intertwines with mine
There is no gap in our sighs and murmurs
Till you are within me, you color me
Nature's creative palettes of LOVE
With joys, smiles and laughters of intimacy

But when you are not there
I become a whimper expressing
Dislike and unhappiness for every thing
When your roots of thoughts and being
Are not holding me firm, deeply
I die in your longing & crave for you helplessly

I want to run and come in your arms
And loose all my EGO, pride and status
I want to surrender my desired inert beauty
For you to worship me forever

Though I do not show my LOVE openly
I want to tell you this:

I will do everything during the day time
YOU ask me to do for YOU

I will do more for you during the night time
Those things we only fantasize about

I will be-witch you with my scent
I will cover you with my hair
I will embrace you like your skin
I will drench you under my showers
I will hide you under my bosoms
I will carry you within my womb
Where no one is / was / will be permitted ever
And I will release you only
When YOU grant me all my secret desires


This LOVE ballad is sung from centuries
By Zuliet, Layla, Heer, Radha, Meera, Rabia...
And more of us who AGAPE LOVE madly...
Wanyun Gu Apr 2015
While tufts of gloom engulfing the sky,
With no space and time between
Us, you and I,
soak ourselves in the stationary delight.
Like a hypersensitive scheme,
Yet an irreconcilable vibe,
You smoke, and I sigh.

While others argue to be or not to be,
You and I, standing in front of Robert Frost’s fork
—to smoke or sigh
Without hesitation,
You choose to hold a cigar in hand,
I choose to release an unknown in mind,
And sigh.

We then, ask each other why
You say, if you ever woke up in evisceration,
You would quit smoking
I say, if I ever woke up in nonentity,
I would stop sighing

Basking in the glow of flickers,
Inhaling the essence of meteoric laughters,
We look into each other’s assuring eyes
—I respect your choice,
as much as you respect mine.
Palpably, we’ve educed a compromise
It’s neither you smoke, nor I sigh.
Mitchell Duran Sep 2013
Around the time
I entered the place I was
Already sweating like a *******.

Fiends poured from crooked parking meters - all unpaid and blinking red.
Angular threats were shooting from the eyes of dead gangsters - wives all mad.
Laughters entrails spilled out onto the rotten wooden blanks
Like Jimi Hendrix's gun-shots of Vietnam lore.

At noon the church doors will open and
There, the wind will freeze like water to ice;
Memories menace psychedelic post-war like;
Upstairs toward the 4th floor, the blast-furnace blasts away.

My eyes were pink. The music was loud.
When I heard my name, I said, "no, I don't believe it."
There was a knife floating from the ceiling and
I swore
God whispered "Run" into my ear.

A squeal
From the corner of the bathroom.
There, I witnessed a kitten reading a piece of newspaper.
Times like these I imagine an imagination indifferent,
Only to shudder as I enter the freezing winter of space.

Blame is there for all who wish to take it.

Back at the table,
I tried to reform the face of my date.
She smiled and frowned and sighed and grimaced
All the same time.
I wondered what love felt like, then
Entered a new space of hazing music, malnourished.

Hubert came through the window,
With a 8 inch bowie knife and a grin.
I chuckled and he did too.
I asked, "Where you headed?"

"To the kitchen. There are beasts in there that need killing and I'm the man to do it."

Nodding, I went back to my
Dusty periodical, silently hoping he would
Execute one of the hares or bison I
Kept near the garbage disposal and dish soap.

A vibration.
A musical note.
Echoes through eternity.
In there faces float still, poised, perfect.
A baby is born,
An old man dies,
Lovers intertwine.

The end.

Instead of sleeping, I stayed awake.
Sleep frightens me.
Dreams are sometimes to good to wake up from.
When will be the day I can stay in one?

When there was glory,
There was man.

When there was faith,
There was God.

When there was death,
There was life.

Eating up the trough, far past the fill-up,
Cooking up any excuse the twisted mind can come up with.

Eavesdropping love songs to tormented poetry readings.

A foggy night in San Francisco
Leaves a clue so slight to the hand that pens.

The raps burn against the metal, rusted window panes twanging with cheap celebrity.
Here, the brown line runs, as the Mississippi purrs chasing atonement.

New York City is still burning.

There was the sense that something was wrong when I entered the other room.
I'd heard of it. Someone had told me about it, but I couldn't recall who.
On the street, the wind was like cold milk and the smell of candles was stinking up the street.
It was somebody's birthday and it was morning and there was no escaping the day.

At noon, I was still in bed, trying to fend off the sun. Impossible
To do, I got up and braced myself for the sinking put-put of my feet against wood floors.
There in the hell that was upon me, the warden sunk his teeth into a miniature grapefruit.
Surprised by his choice and subtle nerve of health,
I saw then he was a large volkswagen sized man with teeth the size of sharks.

I was away for too long. This was here. Here was this place. I was here now, for good.
To leave would be to go to the same place, all over again.
Instead of throwing away the future, I ****** the present into oblivion.
Eyes bug-out backing up the bartender in a noon-day brawl and instead of calling the cops,
We called the bald gimp Jerry K. because his father used to be in the military and
Taught him a couple things when he was seven and half.
The man died that night in the alley by a knife and few hearty laughs.

Waking to sleep the day away.
Burning money to see what color it'll make.
Fending of friends with solitude and *****.
Shoot pool to drool and stay cool.
A ladies a lady until proven otherwise.
Candid scenes pass, though the flames engulf the lazy, littered
Streets with sleeping hobo's sick for the one's who don't
Have time to be; hard work must be done for our good country.

I stained my mind the other day. Saw
Seven virgins all spinning like circus china in a window
Too hard to see through. Their silhouettes were something to be
Haunted by and because past loves always seem to haunt me,
I bought one and took it home quickly.

She stands in the corner spinning, as I type away, grinning.  

After I rearranged her face
She started to cry. I watched her eyes as they turned from blue, to violet,
To sunken ships of hurt not let go.
I tried to show her where the desert was not dried up,
But she would not take my hand. It hung there like a bobbing kite and
Because the ocean can never run out, the bout we thought
Would break us, only made us cackle like the downtown girls we know.

After some convincing, I took her to a french breakfast spot rather than the desert.
A few spotted chinese women sat next to us with an abnormally large golden retriever.
"I've never seen such a beast before, " I giggled, "They must ride that ******* home."
"Don't be gross," she scowled, "It's an animal with feelings."
I told her I got a triple bacon egg-sandwich and she started to weep lightly into the
Broken hem of her beige linen vest. Something told me I should nip this in the ****, but
Just then, my sandwich came. I handed her a napkin then began to eat. She finished her
Coffee in one gulp and picked up her leather and left. Eating alone, I watched the golden
Giant eat bits of hot dog the smaller of the two chinese women had hid in her shoe.

Why think of the ending when the beginning was where it started?

Smart they are. **** she can be. Aye, here I am again.

Aye.

Here we all are again.
WL Schuett Mar 2018
Trying to heal a broken spirit
Damaged by loss
and in search of purpose.

Echoing richness in
Peripheral thoughts.
Crying for atonement in
each anguished breath .
Knowing this is our precious life
Even if any soft places
remain well hidden .

Fleeing outside to disappear
into the seven streets of Antioch
Asking for a God to save me
Cutting the fool , with prayer.
Losing the trust of the world
As bells rattle the belfries.

Ideals were put to the torch
Sequoit creek smelled
Rich and dark
With sweet sentimentality
Creative vibrancy and
My loves lost laughter .

Nothing happens that has no meaning
All of our experiences connect
Our lives
Through the open window of time
Into the nuisances that move the tides , paint the terra cotta steps with snow and
steal the deserts wind .

I make an incantation
for mercy
Un reconciled to suffering
Waiting to be cleansed of the unknowable .
The uncaring and indifferent
Stars watch from above .
Like fate .
In a mysterious biblical betrayal
Laughter fled and
Became a spider
Lost in the snow .
Adel Apr 2014
the sun is not quite setting
brighten the sea with golden brushes
the clouds are hanging dry on the canvas
the magenta and turquoise mixes all over my gaze
lighten up the eyes with strong desire
and the night is calling me out
the stars appear with the faithful moon above it
battling with all the city lights
the laughters and smiles are fulfilling my ears
the words of love sounds monotonous to me
and here i am,
chasing down the streets
and wandering the empty hearts of mine
alone;
searching for yours
that i know will never be here.
mark john junor Feb 2014
she hovers over the handwritten letter
with maniacal grin gripping her face
as she devours his texted words
with weeping eyes
and she sings in unnatural tones a child's lullaby in some
forgotten french dialect
delightful reflections in song of the garden gate
leaning broken onto the rough hewn path
where the soulless cherubs cherish their seed

in haphazard rows cherub faces sling silent tears
and labour at the desires never felt and
the dark soils never fertile
seeking redemptions in the rebirth of the harvest moon
which decorates the far wall of the tomb

the cherubs brief delighted laughters
soon sputter and fail
as in the dying light of day
reveals that they must labour yet another day
to no useful end

she lives in this place
a cottage of straw with dark windows
and a wood stained door
she sits on its porch with knitting in hand
weaving futures for her beloved cherubs
weaving pasts for her own
she devoured him like she did his words
and came home to roost
like her innocent faced dragoons
she will someday march forth with this army of doom
but today she is content to be contrite
knitting porridge and whey wall hangings
from the tables of the
steampunk princess
Farihah Fuaad Dec 2013
She laughs, he smiles.
The black forest taste he could only taste at the peak of light beams
Her laugh seems similar, quite similar.
Her haha's outcasted the glooms and dooms
Just as the black forest melted on his taste buds when sun rays streaked upon his shoulder blades.

She cracked a joke, he laughs and nods
Intellectual is what they might say
A brainy maniac she is, who could co-host a sitcom
His Friday nights would now only be filled with her wits
Replacing all the beers and stouts for a while
His once bumpy and rocky throat is nil compared to the highly raised cheekbones visible during a good laugh

But one day she cried.
The guilt he carries overshadowed his sympathy.
Her big swollen eyes
Her pinkish and warm face which was covered in dribble
Hadn't he known?
All those time he made somersaults, he was drown deep below
He could breakthrough,
but was too mesmerized by the mermaid's blinking fishtail and scaly skin.

And she saved him
From being turned into a merman
Only then he was back to square one
Where her laughters, her jokes and her sobs are actually his sugar crush, his Gatsby gold
As always, she was after all, his soul saver.
blythe Jul 2015
Once upon a time,
There was me and you,
We were each other’s half –
A perfect match.

As I lay my head on your shoulder,
You wrap me in your arms;
Our hands entwined
Sharing sweet laughters.

All those moments we spent together
We decided to make it last;
My hope of our forever
Will be up high til' we turn to dust.

When you decided to love me so,
My heart was ever glad;
You and me just like that…
Inlove... Unified.
The last two stanzas of my poem should be this:

All those moments we spent together
Will just be part of our past;
My hope of our forever
Vanished like dust.

When you decided to let me go,
My heart was shattered;
You left me just like that…
Weeping... Broken.

But before I posted this, I sent this first to Mr. Hyacinth. Then, he created a new ending for my poem that's why this became a collab :) He wrote the other side of my poem.

Thanks for reading ;)

©Blythe
©Hyacinth
shaqila Jul 2012
I’m a wild child
Explored much, invested much, observed too much
I have danced in the dancing wind and laid naked in the crushing waves
My arms have stretched around the world
The shenanigans of unfiltered words
The crude behavior of unschooled actions
Have driven away the hearts of the expectant
I deny not my actions
For they come from the plain origin of the wilderness
I am a wild child
Gutted by trees in the forests and soothed by dewdrops from the branches
I speak not the language of man
My voice it carries across through the jungle wild
In screams and laughters and sometimes loud shrills
Like my friends, the apes or the enemy, the dressed
I am a wild child I know
I can’t be contained – I cannot be housed
I must run as with the time that never stops
I must run now – before the traps ensnare
The cliff awaits, the river calls, I leap into the sky and dive and I am gone!!
Famous Isaacs Jun 2014
Here, now, is the world before me:
Women are struggling to make a living
And men struggling for beer.
The markets are full of drying-up warehouses
And market stalls pregnant with emptiness.

A woman comes in,
Calls the last goods on the shelf, indicating interest.
There are the dying smiles that echo no goodwill
Upon the naming of a price-below-purchasing;
There are the hungry laughters at the teeth of the buyer
Who seeks his own gains;
There are the welling-up tears that fill the eyes of the seller
Who needs the penny to live another day.

Poverty and want wears an ugly face
And gives hate a voice to echo its disdain.
Much displeasure fills the air but in business
The customer always wins.

Pain eats up my heart as I watch the transaction.
Here, survival matters- just as much as love,
But now even this is no more.
                                                      
                                                                                     Abacheke-Egbema, Imo State. January 2014
Basically, my kind of poetry is that which is about people, about lives, about women and children- their very lives interests me.
Dianne Dec 2014
The cold festive wind blew;
Laughters, hollers of "Merry Christmas!"
Came along with the breeze.
Children, with their little toy drums
Bang, bang, banging away;
Choruses of "Gloria In Excelsis Deo";
Pine trees, Snow flakes, deformed Snowmen;

Houses are lined with
Blink, blink, blinking
Colorful lights and wreaths;
Somwhere among them,
in some living room,
"All I Want For Christmas" is on loop;
Cookies are laid for Santa Claus;
Presents are stacked
Under the Christmas tree--
With garlands and *****
And--

The Christmas lights
In a room in the middle of a second storey house,
Were shining as brightly as they could,
Being wrapped around the neck
Of a teenager misunderstood,
Hanging lifeless on the ceiling
With a note pinned that read,
"Happy Christmas from the dead."
A classmate of mine just died yesterday. I don't know how to look at this coming Christmas positively, anymore. Sorry.
Eriko Mar 2016
watery eyes squinting against
the pink glamor of the setting sun,
casting marvelous streaks
of cherry cream soda foam
radiating from the heartfelt
warmth

dusk settling, a quiet raven
swinging in the swaying trees
and a fence line lining
the edge of evergreen forests
a white picket fence
cluttered with the ghosts
of memories

a pair of binoculars
held by a silent girl
olive and freckled
of the shower of tear drops
which cascaded from those nights
of aching compassion

facing the other side
solitude presence of one
walked of a thousand steps
back splayed by the salty foams
spat by the restlessness of the sea
an umbrella clasped in his grip

the rain drizzled, throwing
the pink sunsets into arrays
of sweet, sweet melodies
the girl of binocular
and boy of umbrella
a picket fence in between

a relief from destiny,
a rain check into reality
figures of speech echoing
slurring syllables
recounting marbles
that used to roll off
from their laughters
on lovely nights

a girl of binoculars
and boy of umbrellas
dreamt of once a meeting
of one such like this
the raven cries
fear not, deal not
what has there
to be done
when the pink
ceases to refill
your sweet dreams

and the girl smiled
the boy climbed over
the white picket fence
and held her hand,
holding the umbrella
to keep their warmth
sheltered deep within

the girl picked her binoculars
held it close to her pretty cheeks
above her lips,
navigating sights
knowing their memories
will far exceed than that
of the white picket fence
Em Dy Feb 2019
i have been in deep contemplation these past few days, trying to come up with reasons for what I’m feeling —


but there isn’t anything in particular, maybe i just like seeing you smile, hearing your contentment in laughters, and the tinge of annoyance that your stern voice exudes,

or it could just be you, in its simplest forn.

i miss you, i miss you, i miss you
maybe if i start repeating it over and over again, it’ll lose its meaning



but for now, i wait
in longing,
hoping that maybe one day, you’ll feel the same
Koubashii Apr 2013
Little little gleamy flower
Blue or purple , where to find
To forget or to remember
A feeling recalled from solid ground

Little little gleamy flower
Starts it all on a sunny day
Through the wind and those squeezing beams
Grows a seed of an endless dream

Little little gleamy flower
Stays and strong through all the fight
Where sorrow rises from underneath
Found every trace of laughters and joy

Little little gleamy flower
Pure and sweet like those morning dews
Always sings the song of love
Even rain or within darkness

Little little gleamy flower
All this time , never been alone
To be true or be unfaithful
It’s goodbye that can’t be told

Little little gleamy flower
Don’t hold tears to what is dear
Not the end , but a new beginning
See the world and fly through the sky

Little little pretty flower
Together and ever be unchanged
Promise me under stars and moon
Never forget those precious days

Little little pretty flower
Remember this and never cry
All the joy , heartbreak and smiles
Be the song that shines through your heart.
hanaB May 2015
I got lost in those laughters and joy in the album of ours.
I found myself pumped with a big smile
and after, a long sigh.
Nat Lipstadt Jan 2014
my love brought
me tranquility.
my love bought
me tranquility,
in a Manhattan bodega.

late at night in my city,
everything is for sale
where least expected
in mini marts, local delis,
greek coffee shops, spanish bodegas
pizza parlors, hardware stores,
all selling
salves for late night salvation

purveyors of
differential equations of
differing soulful sustenances,
certain imports that will probably never be
for sale in Walmart after midnight

all, readily available,
twenty four seven
in my miracle Manhattan heaven

My woman,
mapper of the byways
of my ****** landmarks
worn broad~ways,
his-toric foot trails of tears,
lines of laughters,
even a
purported dimple
I call a crevasse.

a sole survivor of
a mother's birthing skill marker,
duly recorded by her upon my visage,
in my miracle Manhattan

She knows, as do
some of youse guys,
that my poetry is
water born(e) and water soluble,
but Peconic Bay always
ain't right handy,
so bring on a
substitute teacher,
a hot bath,
helps me to enunciate
my verbal visitations

my love brought
me tranquility.
my  love bought
me tranquility
in a Manhattan bodega.

pour the aromatherapy,
my love brought me
for inspiration into and upon
my liquid writing table,
"Tranquility,"
a summer garden aroma

It soothes
my bad memories,
the herbs salve
accursed ancient wounds
that will never
ever fully heal
or be forgiven

my love brought
me tranquility.

my graces restored,
this poem offered in
grateful appreciation
with unlimited adoration,
something,
maybe even the
very one thing
**that can't be bought,
even,
in my miracle Manhattan
Oct. 16th, 2011
Anna Banana Mar 2013
The love between them was so very deep.
He held them with care even in his sleep
The laughters they shared were so very dear
In times of sadness he poured out every tear.

Never has anyone seen such love between a boy and his toys.
He spent much more time with them than other little girls and boys
Those toys loved the companion of their dear friend
They enjoyed each waking hours that they spent.

But an end must come to even the best of things
Those toys never again heard the little boy's cheerful greetings
Instead dreadful wheezy coughs took that place
And no more of his soft rosy face.

The toys could not understand why they played no more
They wanted to be loved again, instead they lay on the floor
Days, weeks, months went by but he only got worse
Then one day those lonely toys saw everyone weep, even the nurse

"He was such a beautiful boy!" they heard people say
Those toys did not understand, they just wanted to play
They sat waiting, waiting for that child
They wanted to see his sparkling eyes and precious little smile

That boy's unconditional love for them is what they lack
And so they kept waiting for him to come back.
Nikki Paulin Dec 2013
I don't know you, but I feel you right from the get-go. You go about your routine that lassoed my heart into you, you who prance around the vastness of my dreamscape. I come to recognize your presence only in my sleep, at the very least that's what I know.

In that hazy, twisted world of subconscious shuffling, we find ourselves sitting cozily, face to face, at a table outside that rustic coffee shop. Honeyed words and laughters sprightly echo from that very spot where only a vase of freshly cut chrysanthemum sets two bodies and heat apart, longing.

Sometimes, we glorify sunsets at the shoreline. Sometimes, we sound our inane daredevil yawp at a cliff. Sometimes, we simply stargaze and draw across the skies Cassiopeia and Ursa Major.

We embrace the beauty of chaos we often find ourselves walking aimlessly along that busy thoroughfare before we head back home; normally we exchange random thoughts about school, my fascination with Rand's objectivist framework, your addiction to Cobain's craft and story, my weakness over falling in love too fast, your resilience and hope in times of defeat.

We are wired to each other in a special way, so special that it all has to be in lucid dreams. Feelings are intense. Kisses euthanize the butterflies. Midnight cuddles are soulful  calisthenics. Holding each other's hand  is infinite.

You present to me a self that is nurtured by its soul. I think I love you in my sleep. I feel happy with everything that goes with closing my eyes and letting dreams of the world I created creep into my consciousness. In such a realm I don't know you, but I feel you right from the get-go.

Do you see me in your sleep, too?
lavande Nov 2014
...                                                              ­                                                                 ­ 

And this palpating heart beats so

quickly for the thirst oh

the thirst for life in its purest and impurest forms

to run quickly through in glittering veins oh

let it find the music to drown in the vibrating rhythms of the earth,

and let it experience

the surge of a beautiful madness in heart

a first past midnight kiss upon a moving train

or shared ringing laughters of a cluster upon a mountain top

with its twinkle of a foreign city lights as if pausing to say

yes, this night, this city is yours, and so is the world-

no matter

it wants to drink it all

in hurried golden gulps for it ignites the colored sparks

illumination in the fire-aired sky

for celebration of us;

of the gift of youth and age because our seconds are only receding and

it is only here and now

so when you take one sip you cannot help

but savor and

embrace it whole again and again and



take all of it

in its whole glorious madness



                                                      ­      *P.K.
You are somewhere but you're hidden there;
You are with me in my every step.
I cannot see you yet I feel;
I cannot sense you yet I hear.

You are the shade no-one can catch;
You are the force they cannot make.
You are behind their pale shadows;
The one they're too tired to know.

You are in every flavour t'at I taste;
You live in every drop t'at I drink.
You breathe in every move I make;
You stay with me and ne'er fall apart.

You are the leaf of my autumn shade;
The emeralds of my summer gem.
The orchids of my cold jade stones;
The tulips of my skin and bones.

You are for whom I feel feeble;
You are for whom I have felt hurt.
You are for whom I endure pains;
You are for whom I hate.

But in your presence t'ere's no hate;
For with you there, then love is just love;
Love and hate are like dust and water;
They are separate, and not to be together;

And in your presence t'ere's no fear;
For tears turn into sweet poems t'at I hear;
And t'ose bleak midnight dreams shalt end;
Whenst in your arms, my very best friend.

And you are told once more and again;
By my untouched love and laughters;
From my untold hands and right words;
From the eyes of insane poetry.

And you are there, all over again;
You make things right whenst they do not;
You are in the cold tales I make;
You saw my first love bloom and grow.

You are in my words and prayers;
In the dreams t'at live forever.
You are the strength t'at makes me write;
You are in me all through the day and night.

You are my blood and my sacrifice;
You are my truth, honesty, and lies;
You are my moon, stars, and my hectic skies;
Your soul is mine and shalt ne'er die.

You are the hate and filth t'at I say;
The happiness t'at comes in my way;
You are on my mind night and day;
You are my poem in April and May.

You are my eggplant and cherry tree;
My green lime and sweet strawberry.
My purple lavender and rose;
My morning dew and midnight gloss.

You are the green moors I walk on;
The curved path I always stride on.
That my heart beats when I am beside you;
With a love genuine and passion so true.

You are the sun by my clouded grass;
The light t'at soften hearts' anger;
The love behind one's gritted teeth;
The truth behind deformed false mirth.

You are my ginkgo tree and peach;
The shine among the filth and foul.
My savour sea and fragrant beach;
Cure for the darkness of my soul.

You are my summer and fall tales;
My exact said and written words.
The blood and flesh of my red cells;
The light and promise of my worlds.

You are in my skin and my mind;
You need just love to make me blind.
You are in my ears and my hair;
I feel your presence everywhere.

You are the miracles that I see;
The poetry God carries with me.
The dramas I sing of and write;
The true love that makes things sound right.

You are the one lie that sounds true;
The ******* ****** heart desires.
The essence of my breath and *******;
The frank lust of mine in the West.

You are the thirst my heart falls for;
You are the rain that soaks it wet.
You are the fertile grass it grows;
The autumnal tears that it sheds.

You are the kite that soars up high;
And I shalt be your protective shield.
And whenst you fall with your knee wounded,
My poem's the very drop that makes it heal.

And it speaks of you with sanity;
And misses you with high verity.
And with such warmth t'at is still mine;
It longs to keep you in the heart and mind.

It's thus the immortal in you;
T'at makes it sees with clarity.
T'at it loves you eternally;
T'at it seeks you again and again.

T'at it wants you all over again;
T'at it wants you for no clean reason.
T'at it wants you now and once more;
T'at it wants you like never before.

T'at it loves you like it loves itself;
T'at it loves you with no falsehood.
T'at it loves you like it loves life;
T'at it loves you and shall die for you.

Ah, Immortal, whatfore art thou doing t'is dark afternoon?
My heart is alone in abrupt silence;
And it wants to disturb thee again;
It wants to run after and play with you.

Ah, Immortal, but doth thou tread some-times, on our fav'rite green path?
The one smelling like musk and red berries;
The one thou took to the most;
On which thou called me whenst thou got lost.

Ah, Immortal, and I ran fast like a blind nymphet;
For I was afraid of finding thee not;
Ah, I was in a ruffle skirt and with my poetry book;
Thou said I's pretty after one brief look.

Ah, Immortal, and we crafted one dusk ode together;
And t'at dusk grew more beautiful altogether;
With a soul as handsome as thine by my side;
Brightened by the streets' thrilling fluorescent light.

Ah, Immortal, and so I've written another ode today;
T'at maketh me remember everything without delay;
All joy t'at we had t'at night, on t'at lil' path;
A portrait of once live, but now vanished worlds.

Ah, Immortal, and such an ode maketh me smile again;
It feels like thou art here, my lover and best friend;
And the only lover I shalt ever run for;
The only man for whom my heart beats fast.

Ah, Immortal, and nothing is sweeter t'an t'is green ode;
A piece of innocent poem t'at thou shalt like;
Just like the ones thou always read;
By my side, with thy head laid by my orange lap.

Ah, Immortal, and nothing is more honest than my own poems;
For it thinks absurd not, of what is absurd;
Like t'is immortal passion it feels for thee;
Ah, for thy soul t'at too is immortal.

Ah, Immortal, but now that I've written this poem;
I shalt retreat to a peaceful rest;
I've laid about what's within my chest;
I'm ready for a sleep's endless virtual doom.

Ah, Immortal, and you wilt say in my oblivion;
T'at I have reached my destination;
The very place where there's no thee;
The desolate ice with thee gone.

Ah, Immortal, and you wilt sit in my unconscience;
Keep me asleep in my confusion;
T'at I escape, and escape not from my guilt;
T'is endless guilt of loving thee.

Ah, Immortal, to whom I still love, and love again;
Whom t'is very heart still adores;
For whom my prayers still breathe;
And for whom my tears still flow.

Ah, Immortal, and you wilt dream in my limbo;
Of a dream t'at leaves me conscious;
T'at there's no more love between I and thou;
A love t'at once made our hearts luminous.

Ah, Immortal, and you wilt rock me back and forth;
'Till I but wake again to this world;
And the horrid sands of Yorkshire;
Where I smellest none but dire loneliness.

Ah, Immortal, but dream of me—make me unaware;
And let t'is love for thee step forward;
Sending me back my triumph;
Shoving me up with virility.

Ah, Immortal, let such a bashful moon distract me;
But turn me not about my long sleep;
And with its horns slaughter my love;
That I shalt wake up loved and unloved.

Ah, Immortal, let the grim grimace slander me;
Let t'is love for thee hinder me;
But ****** not my love for thee;
And the longing for thee to be by my side.

Ah, Immortal, and stay with me but in my words;
T'at I am able to tackle the worlds;
To **** its failed virtues and vice;
Its cruel pride and fatal conventions;

Ah, Immortal, thou canst feed me through my bare poems;
And attend more of my illusions;
Take to my imaginations;
Breathe through the words and circles I draw.

Ah, Immortal, thou canst witness my weird footsteps;
Sleep on my imaginary lap,
And leave thy heart to me by one side,
T'at I canst but rub and play with it again.

Ah, Immortal, and thou canst leave to me your heartbeat;
And I wilt adorn it with warm heat;
That like you are, it shalt stay immortal;
Like a love poem I'll craft in fall.

Ah, Immortal, and thou canst leave me thy love to me;
T'at I shalt kiss and cheer it every day;
For it has more than what I have to say;
For it speaks to me with proud sanctity.

Ah, Immortal, and thou canst leave thy hours to me;
T'at I canst write you a good poem;
A poem t'at breathes through thy chest and hands;
T'at thou canst feel my presence again.

Ah, Immortal, and thou outta' leave thy blood to me;
T'at I canst shield, I canst protect it;
T'at I shalt act like its owner,
With a thousand smiles and promises.

Ah, Immortal, and thou canst leave thy flesh to me;
T'at I canst heal and empower it;
T'at I canst cast spells on its wounds;
T'at it shan't dwell rott'n forever.

Ah, Immortal, and thou canst leave thy doom to me;
T'at I can retrieve your old laugh;
Although I'm young and I am not her;
I'll love you again and again, more than ever.

Ah, Immortal, and thou canst be mortal to me;
But I shalt still call you my immortal;
Like I once did when we were young;
With the blossoms of love in our hearts.

Ah, Immortal, and thou wilt see my promise is true;
I'll shed my blood and flesh for you;
From such shalt flow fresh spring water;
T'at shalt heal thy cracked wounds and lungs.

Ah, Immortal, and thou wilt see my love's not a lie;
For if thou rot, then I too shalt die;
For my gripped breath too shalt be broken;
For my vain heart too shalt die hurt.

Ah, Immortal, and thou wilt see thou art my heartbeat;
Thou art part of me and my wit;
For t'ere's no poem but one about you;
For t'ere's no dream but of our first love.

Ah, Immortal, and thou wilt see thou art my thousand skies;
For t'ere's no love but by your side;
And no words written but for thee;
Thou art the voice of my clarity.

Ah, Immortal, and thou wilt see thou art my life;
Thou art inside me as thou wished;
Thou art a breath t'at withers not;
Thou art a thought t'at leaves me not.

Ah, Immortal, and thou wilt see I shalt not wander;
My love for thee is clear and again;
And one intact, and whole, and untorn;
And one civil, and pure, and unburnt;
Thou art my light, my cold fire and warm ice.

Ah, Immortal, and thou wilt see t'at my love is chaste;
For whenst betrayed, it betrays not;
For it cuts not our story short;
For it stays with thee still, in blood and flesh;
For it thinks of you yet, in its wake and rest.

Ah, Immortal, and thou wilt see my love is genuine;
For it shoulders guilt on its own;
A guilt t'at comes from loving thee;
For loving you is what makes it live.

Ah, Immortal, and thou wilt see my love lives forever;
For thy remembrance gives it breath;
And thy memory frays its hate;
You are the love t'at's ne'er too late.

Ah, Immortal, and thou wilt see thou'rt my perfection;
Thou attend my poetic arts and visions;
Thou art the precision it makes;
The decision it firms hard life on.

Ah, Immortal, and it screams for you by its walls;
And calls your name again and again;
T'at it keeps you in a heartbeat;
T'at it shalt seek you in its every sense.

Ah, Immortal, and thou wilt see my love is not hate;
For it knows not what hate is itself;
Like it knows not hatred on its own;
For it knows only bland virtues.

Ah, Immortal, so thou wilt see my passion is true;
T'at this etched love is not a disease;
T'at my love shalt hatch again and again;
Give birth to frank newborn poems and thoughts.

Ah, Immortal, and so being alone tortures me;
It renders me dead and my sanity;
Like an empty chair in its solitude;
I sing to myself, and no Eolian lute;

Ah, Immortal, and thou wilt see by my virile sense;
T'at I longeth for thee again and again;
T'at thou'rt the thought I verily ponder;
T'at thou'rt the only love I embrace.

Ah, Immortal, and I'll embrace thee again and again;
No matter how long, nor how many times;
My insane guilt is in loving thee not;
And knowing not how to tell of thy love.

Ah, Immortal, so I shalt proceed but to love thee;
And keep thee alive in my heart and mind;
And keep thee breathing in my story;
A story t'at, I hope, comes back alive one day.

Ah, Immortal, and thou see my nonsense is true;
Though full of holes and discolours;
Telling words is to me obligatory;
For it keeps my love in order.

Ah, Immortal, and t'ese diffused hues are but thine;
Just like my whole journal of tales;
T'at I shalt recall with virtues;
Because 'tis t'ere—t'at promise of mine.

Ah, Immortal, so thou'rt my artistic vision;
My endemic paints and phrases;
My arts' reposes and relapses;
My chanted spells all over the place.

Ah, Immortal, I craft thy poems with precision;
T'at all is unique in their nature and order;
T'at it preserves love and enigmas;
And so it preserves for you, just what you love.

Ah, Immortal, and I tell my tales with perfection;
T'at thou become my whole saturations;
Thou owneth the major gold'n utopias;
And preserve still, t'ese hovering dystopias!

Ah, Immortal, and I've seen in thee such myopic senses,
T'at what is iconic seems atomic,
T'at what is static seems dynamic,
Ah, but all seem such—in thee!

Ah, Immortal, I've too seen in thee such pictures;
Pictorial and ethereal in such a sense;
But malevolently, and fervently true;
Ah, Immortal, thou art my powerful hero!

Ah, Immortal, thou art the magic of my art;
The very clay of earth I step on;
The very suit of life I wear on;
The immortal mind among those mortal!

Ah, Immortal, thou art the soil of my being;
The very breath that I leave awake;
The primary cause I think of;
My multitude of secret reasons!

Ah, Immortal, and I want but' make thee—make thee mine;
We canst drink together and feast;
On t'is love and artistic gleams;
Of  joyed literary and poetic pleasures!

Ah, Immortal, and our young souls shall ne'er decay;
We hath more than t'is world shall say;
We own even more in our poetry;
We own every part of immortality!

Aye, Immortal, and thou wilt see my virtues are true;
I lied not to thee and about our love;
For our love is what art canst portray;
Whilst art itself is my pal and friend!

Aye, Immortal, and thou wilt witness my plain truth;
For t'ere's no mirrored truth than thine;
And even the truth of wan reality;
The reality of joy, tears, and gloom.

Aye, Immortal, and thus thou wilt admit 'tis mine;
Thy very heart and eternal conscience;
Thy cordial mind and vast concerns;
Aye, such are all—all mine, my darling dear!

Aye, Immortal, and thus thou wilt confess such's mine;
Thy very mind and ordinary senses;
And too thy literary and recreational thoughts;
Ah, and thy visions too are mine, my gorgeous dear!

Aye, Immortal, so such is a tale of my love;
T'at brews and boils just because of thee;
T'at loves and hates within thy spheres;
T'at cries and mourns whenst thou art gone!

Aye, Immortal, and thou hath seen what true love's like;
Just like the one I hath for thee;
And I want thee more like I want autumn;
I adore thee more like I do winter!

Aye, Immortal, how canst I find true love then;
Whenst all is blurry and clear not;
With thee gone and my poetry cut short;
I shalt but dream not of marriage!

Aye, Immortal, for such wedded bliss is with thine;
The king of my heart, *******, and mind;
The fairytale I read again and again;
The one old song I keep'n singing thru!

Aye, Immortal, and I longeth for thee just like t'at;
My love hides behind every labyrinth;
Where'n t'ere are green and red and gray clouds;
Where'n poetry is recited out loud!

Ah, Immortal, and thou'th seen t'ere's no-one but thou;
Thou'rt the simplistic art I seek;
The one I'm with whenst strong and weak;
The dream I hath, every day of the week!

Ah, Immortal, and so t'is naughty ode is genuine;
For 'tis mere' thy heart it longeth to win;
T'at it ever boasts proudly of;
T'at it ever wants to get, and again!

Ah, Immortal, and so t'ere's no heart but t'at' thine;
To be entwined with t'at of mine;
To be accounted down the line;
The one I speak of, and I hide behind!

Ah, Immortal, and thus t'ese phrases are but true;
For t'ere's no hero nor villain like you;
Who knows much 'bout truth and untruth;
Who sang perfectly 'bout our own youth.

Ah, Immortal, and thus t'is pleasure is all thine;
Physical and mental and of all designs;
For thou owneth my whole love labyrinth;
And all the tasty scents in its maze.

Ah, Immortal, and thus all t'is poetry is thine;
Just like my severed soul and breath;
For without thee, all t'ese dreams are but of death;
A dream of grief, t'at I shan't find rest;

And Immortal, thus t'is longing is thine;
For thou only canst amend such dreams;
And brings to it candlelight rainbows;
Just like the promise of my true love.

Ah, Immortal, and thou shalt see my plain love is true;
For it fails just anyone but you;
And thus I want thee here with me;
I want thee still, like ever before.
Himanshi Oct 2019
Forget the crimson lips and heart,
forget they made you pale
Just write about your aching being,
Forget the fairytale.

Paint not a picture of your dreams,
Envisaging sweet laughters
Face life and look beyond,
Beyond the happily ever afters.
Fran Nov 2015
Zero was where i met you
Just the hello and goodbyes was said
Walking pass like total strangers
where everything was dead

One was where i got to know you
Where  smiles and gestures
Movements was more genuine
but memories was not set

Two was when we talked
Talked endlessly and laughed
With a sudden flutter of  heart beats
i can't say less

Three was where i fell
Fell into that trap
Those smiles and laughters we shared
Had all caught me in the head

Everything happened
But this is all The End
Because i had to cheer for you
With a another women
In your hands

I'll always be behind
Cheering for you
Helping you
Making you smile


But promise me
Never to turn around
Because this dumb fool
Is crying and hurt

Just to stop her tears
Needs so much more
So please, don't turn around
She's just glad to see you smile

With nothing left to say
She take a bow
and left the stage
with no one around
Leks Jan 2014
alas my long lost friend
Alas..

(Deep breath)

I have not forgotten our conversations that streched in the darkness of our room and grabbed dreams as hot as the sun and as bright as the nebula of dying stars

I have not forgotten your comfort/advice within my addiction
I spent 365 days with you and gained insight every single second spent in your Presence

(Chuckles subtely)

Your parlance was weak but mine wasn't so we balanced out perfectly
Your profanity was like honey to my ears and mine, well, mine was incrypted silently within my laughters with you

I remember the day we spoke freely about our ambitions and hopes in life it was so beautiful that today my friend those words vaguely linger on my tongue as we were also young so our minds were like young hungry wolves out for their first hunt.
I loved it

We spoke until our sleep was in sync it intertwined so well that we sleept at the exact same time I was grateful that we were both silent/light sleepers as every sound through the window you valiantly probed me to open was of nature and the moon illuminated our room like our own star we rarely left our curtains open but when we did -- it was beautiful
I sometimes stayed awake to see the clock hit mid night just to soak it -- as my mind roamed free after mid night

Oh my friend..

How I miss our immature scenerios of how the world would end and the lustful rants about the girls/women we wish to devour on this god forsaken planet we call earth
The way we spoke about music as if we were there in the studios of the vast array of artists that we spoke about
Frank ocean
The Script
Flying Lotus
Red Hot Chili Peppers
And many others...
We talked and talked and talked and talked until the duty prefects grew slim of our horiddly loud rants you would take the blame, that way we both knew we wouldn't be punished as you were considered a fragment of gold for the school and I merely silver and silver is not nearly better then gold

(Chuckles wholely)

Our laughs coexisted like a melody only mozart could compose our inside jokes made people sick of our ability to laugh in complete silence by merely communicating through eye contact it was delightful/enlightening

Oh and your mind
You underestimated it to be honest. You were top twenty in the grade but your mind did not reflect this. For some reason I was the only one who could unlock the intellectual matter out of your vanity case (brain)
It made me feel special as at the time I was a minority and your companionship had me placed on a golden pedestal
I probed you about the effects of marijuana that you seemed so eager to explore but in my mind a dark shadow over my words grew as I knew the effect of marijuana on the first timer I knew I had to be in the prescence and high enough to not be consumed by it as marijuana was embedded in my vescular codes
...
There were times when I was high for a whole week and you didn't notice.
My eyes were blood shot but I'd usually use the excuse of being tired and you'd accept it quite humbly
Your friends became my friends
My friends became your friends
I feel like we started a revolution
You and I
As our peers did not coexist the way we made them to at the time
I did not tell you this as you would've probably thought I was high again

Oh my friend

You left nothing but nostalgia in my mind and lingering words/phrases you fervenly adored/abused, some even of my own
I embraced them.
I remember the hate I had for the smell of chlorine you brought into the room
I surpased that by remembering how bad you were at arguing as you walked in with a subtle smile and complete exhaustion in your eyes

I cowered into my books during study afraid to ask you for help as your focus could have intimidated einstein. I kept my doses of silence, lucky for me I had the privledge of listening to music so therefore my sanity was restored each 45 minute spent being confused

After study you became an animal probing me to join your adventures of havoc in the house I sometimes questioned how you were in the top 20 for academics but this was answered by remembering the greatest Philosophers that weren't sane at all not even in the little.

I was proud to call you my friend. Your pronounication of my nickname was incredible -- part of the reason to how it was infected into everyones vocabulary

Oh my friend whos name I shall not mention

I miss our vague chants of songs we merely heard in movies. Chants that made people feel vulnerible as your voice was completely horrid and mine exceptionaly melodic, the blend created a fine dose of old whisky
It was beautiful

(Sighs heavily)

But now my friend you are merely a fragment of nostalgia, a poem, a memory -- a lost memory
We are 365 days distant now and your reclusive persona makes me fear that our paths might not intertwine again.

Alas my old friend
Alas my lost friend

----

Leks
This is a poem to the universe
From a lost friend
blythe May 2013
Several years have passed
Thinking I'll get used to this-
Living without you;
But that idea was foolish
'Coz I'm still missing you;
I realized that I'm still longing,
Even craving for a father's love and care.
Whenever I go to malls and parks,
I envy those girls-
Especially those who are at my age,
Who are having a good time with their dad.
I envy those sweet smiles,
Those laughters.
I remember my days of yore
Those times during my childhood-
We'll go to malls,
Carrying me in your arms
When I feel so stubborn to walk,
We'll have so much fun
Together with mama and my little brother.
I used to be your little girl,
Doing everything to make me happy;
Treating me as your little princess
In our little castle
Where you are the king
And mama is your queen.
I missed those times-
Those moments when we are one happy family
Filled with so much love for each other.
Now...
Here I am,
Just reminiscing those days-
How perfect our life was;
Recalling everything
'Til my tears come rushing down my cheeks
Knowing that we could no longer be like that again,
Knowing that having you back
Will only happen in my dreams.
Despite of the hurt and pain you made me feel
When you left us,
I forgive you,
I left no hatred or anger in my heart to you
Because I still do love you, Papa
And I'm really longing for your love.
Carmen Jane Mar 2019
You see a mantaray climbing up the tree
I take a look and I see a diamond shaped shadow
Casted by a street sign
Implanted in the soil
That I only know
For 15 years
That's when I came here
With dreams
That now are forgotten
But you succeed
To remind me of them
And your bright smile
And your sparkles in your eyes
Cast a light
A spotlight
On my forgotten dreams
And your loud laughters
Causes a drift in the air
That undusts
My forgotten dreams.
I tried to make a shape poem of this poem and named it " Mantaray"
But I think this original  arrangements of verses has it's own potential so I had to name it differently
Michael-Angelo Aug 2015
I want you, so passionately you look deep into my soulful eyes, I want you  ravenously, I want to pull the stars and the moon and give you my light, that illuminating light that comes within, I want to infinitely ravish your thought sense and time, and whisper laughters full of rain, sicken your senses with ***, wine and ******* whine and grind and gentle soft kisses ...
Just a lustful thought about her.
Exhale Your Mind Jan 2014
There's a combination of words stuck at the back of my tongue.
As i diligent search a way to self express, i discover
that my vocal chords have already given up.
I´m numb in my actions and paralized in my speech.
A blend of fear and past dissappointments
are causing a knot in my stomach
and arousing a battlefield between
the words on my lips and the words of my thoughts.
Swallowing through feelings and sentences confining my emotional vocabulary,
i continue to move myself with the words left and
the right intentions in the back of my head.
Drenched in fake smiles and fake laughters.
Wounded but still whole. I move on.
Till they become scars on the invisible side of my soul.
I know that there ain't no way that
you´ll ever dance to the rythm of my heartbeat.
So i'll continue to move myself in life on instrumentals.
Alone. Silently. Broken. Unspoken.
Buzz Jan 2014
I remembered the days
We use to gaze upon each other
Under the lit sky
of fireworks and explosions
Your touch used to electrify me
As I was shy
Yes, I was
And we shared our laughters
Forbiddenly
As no one knows about us
And we shared our tales
Of love and desires
To the extend
That we are more than friends

I remembered the time
When I got that call to far away
A place not known to us
As you found out
Your heart was flooded with tears
As mine withstand the horrendous emotion
And as you let your body collapse to mine
A meaningful hug was grasped towards each other
And our feelings are poured
Into a goblet we cherish together

Now, seems like to only medium to converse
is with the social network of the almighty internet
We text message at twilight
Send emojis during the afternoon
And shared video calls when the sun sets fully
Eventhough we never see each other face to face
Our heart will always be together
Always
Laurent Apr 2015
You lived so many mornings,
So many enjoyments as sorrows,
So many laughters as pains,
Thought being at the end of these feelings,
But you learned also for tomorrow,
That there is so many dreams to live again.
Either you decide to stay in the shallow end of the pool or you go out in the ocean.

— The End —