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chylee plunkett Nov 2012
This is a poem of a girl. A girl who is so cliché, that she needs to write angst-filled poetry to keep herself conscious and her thoughts free, but is too hipster to believe it. A girl who is too freckled to be fair, too fleshy to be flirty, too conspicuous to be classy, too prominent to be petite, but too small to be seen. A girl who’s piercing blue eyes absorbs everything and regurgitates emotions like a tampered slots machine—excessi vely and noisily. This is a poem of a girl who is so over-stimulated with color, texture, love, and life that the numbness in her head is a pink eraser. A girl who was brought up to have opinions and dreams as long as they kept her on the path to perfection, poise, and parenting. A girl who is experienced enough to know the difference between sorrow and guilt, manipulation and cowardice, hysteria and hyperventilation but is too naïve to know why certain boys are a bluish green, why math is a bafflement, and why ground up chili peppers in dark chocolate ice cream isn’t everyone’s favorite food. This is a poem of a girl who salivates at the mere thought of classical music, couture fashion, and feminine heels. A girl who breathes in culture like a caterpillar inhales hookah smoke. A girl who Alis volat propriis (flies with her own wings) but ultimately plummets to nosus decipio (Let’s just cheat) because her humanity held down her Heredity. A girl who thrives on music of every variety: as long as it can paint out her emotions in front of her. This is a poem of a girl who is so acerbically witty and harsh that she could unarm Napoleon but is so vehemently protecting that Mother Theresa herself would be awed. A girl with an attention span of a fish, short-term memory like sea foam, thoughts that outnumber armadas, and a bad habit of dehydration. This is a poem of a girl who talks but shouldn’t, speaks but doesn’t, and who is so badly burnt by the enticement of affection that her wallflower camouflage is now charred ashes around her stubby toes. A girl who has such infatuation that she could pin Lust against the wall and make Passion jealous. A girl who wears red lipstick because she knows it will keep a man’s gaze for 8.2 more seconds than with chapstick and the 50’s will never grow old. A girl too nervous and traditional to make the first move, but too strategic and over-analytical to lie back and forget. A girl who loathes the word mamihlapinatapai because it describes her every circumstance since the day she befriended the purple-brown boy who thought her personality tasted of Raspberry ice cream and to this day she still can’t pronounce it. This is a poem of a girl who needs a bed so crowded and protected with blankets and pillows that her monsters can’t penetrate her mazed-up mind. A girl who drinks tea with her lips, and philosophy with her soul. A girl who can’t spell the alphabet backwards but can make great mnemonic devices. A girl who can’t tie ends together because she doesn’t want to leave anything unsaid but whose tangents are kite-strings. A girl whose sentences are distracting fences in front of her literal eyes but doors for her mind’s eyes. A girl who has Synesthesia but keeps it quiet because of the condescending kids in kindergarten who called her a freak, and a liar. This is a poem of a girl who thinks about Death and whether he is a snatching thief or just the ferryman. A girl who dances with her eyes shut, her heart open and her toe-socks on. A girl who will clean her room at 2 am because she can’t handle the sight and the night is too lively for sleeping anyways. A girl who wears her heart not only on her sleeve, but on her chest, open as a blushing book playing poker with hockey players and still winning a game. A girl who’s emotions are kept in a Tupperware box and left in the refrigerator but if you shake it hard enough the lid just might pop open
august Sep 2015
i fall in love with
the boy who picks up
my book in the crowded hallway.
with the girl who
gives me one small smile.
every day, every minute,
there is a new love on my mind.
the love is involintary,
momentary.
you have never
done so much as to give
me the faint idea of your feelings.
one 'hello', one look my way.
5 minute love.
the girl who opened my door
is forgotten the minute
your glance meet mine.
i dream in black and white,
your hazel eyes breaking the color barrier.
i think only in lyrics,
and every thought of you belongs to a love song.
if home is where the heart is,
then your smile is my home.
and if true love was split at creation,
then you are my third and fourth leg.
your eyes stay focused ahead,
but i cannot keep mine off of you.
you radiate 'love me!',
the mating call to a lonesome lover.
a boy tells me he loves me,
i hear it in your voice.
i get my first kiss and i am only
thinking of the curve of your upper lip.
i find someone new every day,
i find a new reason to love you every minute.
unrequited.
keep me in love.
keep you close to me,
all the way across town.
keep you on my mind.
faded.
"i love you,"
and i am awake, brightly printed on my eyelids.
i can feel the words sinking in.
make you want to want me.
i really need to stop thinking i'm falling for people. i need to stop loving people who don't know me.
Brooke Marie May 2012
I dream of you without knowing how, or when, or where. There you are, poised in front of me. Beautiful in nature with a fire unbeknownst to all. I see no face nor physical features but I feel you. Your hand on my chest is my hand, lips so close that we share one breath.
I look at you, looking at me, thought rushing unable to be put with words.
We are at a place where I does not exist, nor you. Falling in and out of space without realizing we've moved. One body or two, it's been so long I no longer remember. One is what we've become, a single organism thriving without needing.


( Mamihlapinatapai -A look shared by two people with each wishing that the other will initiate something that both desire )
Nathan Cross Mar 2015
If happiness is from Heaven, and sadness from Hell,
I’m in-between worlds.
I’ve learned more from Hell,
then Heaven could ever tell.
Sadness etched on lips, and fingertips.
Creating it, that false sense,
of whatever Love is.
You’re always a victim, but never the culprit.
Funny to me, of "we,"
you found us first and kept it, Dear.
The voorpret we felt, as each drew near,
has now turned into fear.
Perhaps a love between you and I,
should have remained as mamihlapinatapai.
That, after all,
would have been, a happy end.

**-N.C.
Voorpret (n.) (as it is spelled) - pre-fun, the sense of enjoyment felt before a party or event takes place.
Language: Dutch.
Mamihlapinatapai (n.) (Mam-ee-la-pin-nata-pie) - the wordless look between two people who both desire something, yet are equally reluctant to initiate.
Language: Yaghan.
Got Guanxi Jun 2015
Our eyes meet discreetly.
The eyes speak without sound.
The minds cross notions,
whilst words remain unspoken.

Lips linger & tease movements,
but protrude no noise nor speech.
Subtle gestures test the receiver,
of parallel human beings -
embodied in each second passed.

The minutes move.
Silence dictates the situation.
Yet speaks volumes.
Tension is non existent;
hanging upon one another breath alone.

If a pin dropped it would remain unnoticed.
The power of pupils stare unbroken.
Outspoken with closed mouths zipped.
Ventriloquist gift with no sound.

A desire to say so much, sweetheart.
Selflessness cherishes special situations.
Evanescence essence to appreciate the present.
An hour passed through the hour glass;
not slow,
not fast,
just perfect please.

Holding back but content.
A contest of cat and mouse.
Chasing thoughts through clairvoyance,
clarity achieved without a lifted finger.
A smile lingers adoringly.

A rush of blood and rosy cheeks.

A secret meeting of two human beings - M A M I H L A P I N A T A P A I
One of my favourite words i've come across inserted into prose.

:)
TV Apr 2013
One morning as I wandered
through a less familiar part of town
Body portraying mind state
I stopped at a bench to overlook the sea
And contemplate my current predicament
Stranded
on the wrong side of town
with no form of communication.
without a plan I had a seat
near to a rather grungy fellow
you could tell he’d been some places
but now here he was
stranded
on the wrong side of fate and fortunes.
we exchanged greetings that were
as pale as the sky that day.
the morning sun stung my eyes
when he finally whispered that
he had seen some dolphins just yesterday
then
we sat in silence, just we two
me and this man I hardly knew
before departing, I saw it clear
rolled down his cheek, a single tear
a tacit thank you from this out cast
it seems we communicated at last
This is a true story. It was a very humanizing (that's the best word i can think of to describe it) experience. the title is a word i found that roughly translated means, an expressive, meaningful silence
Dan McGowan Jul 2015
your glance sees into me, as hearts beat in concert
words that need more than one
Caitlin Drew Jun 2014
In Welsh
The word "Hiraeth" means
A homesickness for a home
To which you cannot return.
A home which maybe never was.
The nostalgia,
The yearning,
The grief for the lost places of your past.

In Russian
The word "Toska" means
A dull ache of the soul.
A longing with nothing to long for.
A sick pining.
A vague restlessness.

In Yaghan
The word "Mamihlapinatapai" means
A look shared by two people,
Each wishing that the other will
Offer something that they both desire
But are unwilling to suggest or offer themselves.

You say that you love my words
And wonder why I have such a passion for them.
It's simple, really.
I'm merely trying to put a name
To everything you inspire me to feel.
Mattrick Patrick Dec 2015
The world is out of balance: koyaanisqatsi!  
Numinous, my heart's nemophilist alerted to the danger,
yet presently in rasasavada,  espies the solstace moon and cries
in acatalepsy:  Mamihlapinatapai with the hunter within...
Should I embrace this smultronställe,
cought in the ostranenie of meliorism,
or drift from this vorfrued to sophresyne;

My only desire is the nurishing erlebnisse of metanoia,
of my dérive towards sehnsucht:
of rasasavada, that I may insulate myself from the Weltanschauung
of modern society, hiraeth to a nefelibata.
www.highexistence.com/theres-a-word-for-that-25-expressions-you-should-have-in-your-vocabulary
Jo Hummel Oct 2014
We found each other in the crevices of our hearts.
SE Reimer May 2014
~              
the language of love,
it has no equivalence,
we speak what we hope,
we seek what we love;
vacillating? perhaps,
but there is no ambivalence.
lovers whisper, lovers shout;
alternating between holding it in,
or getting the words out.
whether sweet words of friendship,
or letting the heart go,
each tells a tale, a heartbeat,
one the spirit only knows.
is it the “shemomedjamo” of Georgia,
the “overindulgence that
cannot stop this appetite;”
or “lagom” of the Swedes,
who speak of moderation?
where what i have and what i see,
is perfect, just right!
the words, “koi no yokan,”
from the culture of the east,
Japanese speak of the instant of knowing
a love that’s “meant to be.”
there is “mamihlapinatapai,”
used by those at the tip,
of Tierra del Fuego’s windswept cliffs,
a lover’s wish they can’t set free;
further north Brazilians speak,
of “cafune,” the sweet tugging
at her long and flowing hair;
a love that reaches,
strokes, so tenderly.
the Thai use “greng-jai,”
for love that defers...
and to sacrifice refers;
the French have “retrouvailles,”
a love that sparks rediscovery,
where distance knows no separation;
“onsra,” is a love
soon to be a thing of the past;
used in Burma and India when spoken of
a love that cannot last.
the “saudade,” of the Portuguese,
of love that can no longer be,
though it may have been consuming,
is now but bittersweet.
and then... there is Arabic’s “tuqburni,”
a love that says so gently
“without you i am dying!”
each, it has no English equivalent
yet somehow we manage...
we find our true love,
in relationships, in marriage,
for love is a catholic language;
even when there are no words,
where touch, where tender looks,
translations of the unheard thoughts;
where pillows hold the notes of longing,
empty bars and stanzas filled;
oh love, oh boundless one,
under steeples pledge your troth,
to death’s door you take your oath,
to forever sing your universal song!
post script.

http://malaysiandigest.com/frontpage/29-4-tile/485098-6-romantic-words-with-no-english-equivalent.html


Words with no English Equivalent

-Over indulgence-
Shemomedjamo (Georgian)
You know when you're really full, but your meal is just so delicious, you can't stop eating it? The Georgians feel your pain. This word means, "I accidentally ate the whole thing."

-Moderation-
Lagom (Swedish)
Maybe Goldilocks was Swedish? This slippery little word is hard to define, but means something like, "Not too much,
and not too little, but juuuuust right."

-Love at first sight-
Koi No Yokan (Japanese)
The sense upon first meeting a person that the two of you are going to fall in love.

-Love that cannot be-
Mamihlapinatapai
(Yaghan language of Tierra del Fuego)
This word captures that special look shared between two people, when both are wishing that the other would do something that they both want, but neither want to do.  a look between two people in love that expresses unspoken but mutual desire. It describes a look shared when two people are both waiting for the other to make the next move. As long as no one caves in, it can be an endless source of ****** tension.

-Love so tenderly-
Cafune (Brazilian Portuguese)
Leave it to the Brazilians to come up
with a word for, "tenderly running
your fingers through your lover's hair."

-Love that defers to sensibilities-
Greng-jai (Thai)
That feeling you get when you don't want
someone to do something for you
because it would be a pain for them.

-Love that sparks rediscovery -
Retrouvailles (French) — Literally translated as “rediscovery,” is the happiness a two people experiences of meeting again, after a long separation. Long-distance relationships really could not survive without this and when or if too much time passes, this could mean regret. (Potential English equivalent: reigniting the flame, or on the contrary,
letting the flame go out.)

-Love that knows it cannot last -
Onsra (Boro language of India) — There are several ways to love in Boro, and onsra is the bittersweet term for “to love for the last time.”
(Potential English equivalent: Last love.)

-Love that knows it cannot be-
Saudade (Portugese)
a strong feeling of missing someone you love;
a bittersweet sense of a relationship
that will never be again.

-Love that says, I cannot live without you-
Tuqburni  (Arabic)  a love so deep,
you can’t imagine life without your partner.
Literal English translation: “You bury me”
or basically saying,
“I cannot imagine life without
you"… or  "I’d die without you.”
Jessica Mar 2018
“When two people want something but neither will do it”
I’ll slip on ice trying to tell you,
I’ll read your mind like its my own,
I know you feel it too, its not just me
Something changed between us,
Who knew you’d be the first to say it,
Who knew you’d be the first to crack,
I saw it coming, but not from you.
I didn’t know you had it in you,
But why does it hurt? Was I wrong?
I feel like a child, a dumb child.
The one who threw her toys on the ground,
And then when they got taken away,
They cried, they begged, they felt guilty.
Just like I do with you.
Who knew the first time I lost to you,
I would just lose you.
Ehh Im gonna take some time to be single, hmu in like 6 months :D
fallacies Apr 2019
if
we
share
the same
look of the
same wish we
both desire, then
why don't we take
turns to make the
first move,
and give
each gaze a try?
T Mar 2012
It was nice to have weather that was still;
I wondered why
there are some questions we should refrain from asking
and why everything is connected
to everyone and why everyone is influenced
by something—or someone
It was easy to breathe
It was clear that there is always time for indulgence
and it began at the end and
ended at the beginning
Mamihlapinatapai
My exit would be simple
Wholesome simplicity
Joseph Yzrael Jul 2011
Time stops and the world dissolves
into a thin mist, condensing
to form a single point
where your mind meets halfway
with her heart while the earth
and the sky meld with the amber horizon
as the midnight stars descend
to glisten and burst into brilliant supernovae
in her eyes and yours while heartbeats race
to the rhythm of unwritten love songs
and mamihlapinatapai melodies
while thought and reason escape
and words fail inevitably
as both your heart and hers are lost
in a bittersweet tangle
of ghostly kisses and longing fingertips
adrift in a sea of heartstrings
and shifting bed sheets.
Duran Cawpart Jul 2014
Posmotrite tam

Ako dito sa aking puso

Ich saB da an diesem Tag ein Blick in unsere Seele

Ahora camina por delante de mi todos los dias

Ti penso tutti i giorni, ma

Mamihlapinatapai
Teea Apr 2020
I have loved you since the day that I saw you. Sitting
on the windowsill. Young and naive—you were young and mean.
But different. Careful, paternal, Dependable.
I pour out half of my heart in an SMS format.

Ignored with a wet wing. It would dry. I distanced
We distanced. I ate a danish to make me feel full. No fruit.
My legs shook. Your name made me quiver.
Next turn of the sun there you were. Standing

in the stairwell, happy, friendly, New.
I fell down a rabbit hole. I can’t get back up
Your friend… another. I’m waiting for you in a peach dress.
Your eyes are blinded by the smell of honey. Sweet.

It stings you. You run away.
You came home. I smell like vanilla and cinnamon.
Pushing my warmth away you crave the snow.
Chocolate, chocolate that’s all you are.

‘Swounds. I clean them too. Soft and patient, it stings.
The alcohol helps, I cure. You scratch at the scab.
****** Mary; I am not your mom, I take a sip.
Your trust in my hands, Your heart on your sleeve.
Awaiting my heart to dissolve in your tea like Vitamin C.
Jeffrey Pua Nov 2015
#32
Stars, eyes, and distance—
Mamihlapinatapai—
This is how it ends.*

© 2015 J.S.P.
http://en.m.wikipedia.org/wiki/Mamihlapinatapai

— The End —