"observed" poems
Somedays my thoughts shriek so loud that
they congest the rest of my mind
other days they chant lullaby's as if nothing
traumatic has ever happened
one moment i'm up
the next im crumbling to my knees
one or the other its consistent drowning with
no one to rescue me
I'm keen on telling myself its all in my head
at times, but
doctors tell me its all me
but for gods sake do they realize what horrid
phrases the voices scream?
death would be so heavenly
I long for the passing of sides
im awaiting to go home where its all
white and peaceful
i have days where im so narcissistic; I swear
I can commence the world as if every millisecond is
a luxury of sighs and sounds
at moments my dispute comes out so rapid
all i get is crooked looks and mumbles
some days, I love him
other times I swear he's the devil in disguise
during my manic episodes you spoke soft as if I
was a fallen angle that was overflowing with life.
You had mentioned a world that disculded me was a
world you cannot exist in
You said I influenced your heart to skip beats, that I
saved you, I was your fresh air
Once he witnessed myself during a dreadful episode
you declared loving me was exhausting and space
is what you desired for
hell could i control this?
he was the one isolated concept I could ever make
my ******* mind up about
I loved him;
I love him
he said that his devotion to me was similar to
staring into a black hole but seeing the reflection of the delicate sunset
it never made sense to him
BUT HELL DID IT MAKE SENSE TO ME?
when he stranded me, i couldn't help but dissolve in tears
i was nowhere adjacent to happy
but that's all I've ever comprehended
my doctor says they've observed a change
maybe its the sleepless weeks and collection of mood stabilizers
consuming pills in hopes to not feel so ******* empty
anticipating on my next manic episode
waiting for the door to open to go home
If I have learned anything from living with BPD
it is im constantly dilapidated upon everything
one day soon I hope to recover from this disorder
that replicates a loud room without recognizing how loud it was
and all I hear is the ringing in my ears that doesn't seem to have an end
some day this will be over
some day my lover will stay
I pray to fall in love with another angel again
Nov 14, 2015
Nov 14, 2015 at 2:27 PM UTC
HE'S LIKE A LION
FIERCE, UNPREDICTABLE
ARROGANT, PROTECTIVE
OBSERVED AND STARED AT
BECAUSE HE'S MAJESTIC; BEAUTIFUL
BUT CAGED
HIS STRONG SPIRIT AND SELFLESS WILL IS RUINED
HE'S DIFFERENT NOW
SHORT-TEMPERED, UNSURE
THE KING OF THE JUNGLE IS GONE
REPLACED BY A ZOO'S "BEAST"
AN ATTRACTION
HE'S LIKE A LION
WITH WILD BLUE EYES AND A SUNKISSED MANE
BEAUTIFUL CURLS AND AN INTELLIGENT FACE
HIS EYES HELD A MILLION STORIES
TO BE TOLD IN THE DARKNESS
WHILE HE WATCHES OVER HIS LIONESS
ONLY HIMSELF, GOD, HIS BELOVED, AND THE STARS
FINALLY FEELING AT HOME, IN CHARGE
HE'S LIKE A LION
MAGNIFICENT, STRANGE
I'M GOING TO RELEASE HIM
BACK TO THE WILD
BEFORE HE DESTROYS HIMSELF
A BEAUTIFUL LION
TRAPPED
IN A CAGE
Jun 9, 2014
Jun 9, 2014 at 2:50 PM UTC
Teamwork Solves The Problem
They say “two minds are better than one.”
Nothing could be truer.
As I watched a friend and his relative, patiently, take apart and fix a broke appliance.
I relaxed and observed.
The two had the item repaired and figured out quicker than one whose questions are the parts in which the other can answer when there, with him, aiding in the battle of winning the war to piece together a needed tool , that needs mending.
Through answered questions from a partner well answering problems, the other had faced,
piecing together the problem, through help and sweet and strong reliance.
Upon another to help in rougher times.
I remarked on such, the phrase, as they smiled.
In agreement…it wa voted unanimously.
That :”two minds are better than one”
Simultaneously….we all nodded.
It was a new motto on which we have started to have styled…
Even more so, even a “ton” of minds wishing to achieve the same goal - to fix a broken moment…
or even a city that is in disrepair.
such, through unity, the item was finished and the conversation had ended….
It is alike war and conflicts…… ….
Having people, ready with you, voluntarily by your side…
Is better than being too tall for one’s own good…or even better motives…
If he fails to see that “one is not an island…”
“Nor is one an army…”
Common Sense tells him to ask for “brother’s in arms”
which overrides any strong form of blind pride..
Jan 27, 2018
Jan 27, 2018 at 6:53 PM UTC
The Violent Storm by the Water
(Do You Trust Your Imagination)
was not unexpected
but its fury was without compare,
poet awake in semi-preparation
living by water should be a human right for all,
even a small room, overlooking, gives new meaning to
perspective
we blessed with a patio door, encased in a glass window big enough for a smallish elephant to come visit and play with children
a storm is observed up close and personal as if one was in
an IMAX 3D theater, and the edges of existence were being redefined,
sharpened by fury, tooled by tools untouched by mortal hands
miles of bay illuminated with bass drum furious accompaniment
stand before the screen,
poets arms outstretched as a supplicant,
the light of the lightening passes through him,
yet , behind me, she still sleeps
then the entire house shakes, reverberates, as if to say:
”tremble humans, cower, you are not permitted to watch my majesty, for such it was when created heaven and earth”
bold poet window worshipping
risky answers:
“but who will know
if even a poet cannot declaim sights
no one else has seen?”
”true, true, but you must choose if poet truly,
do you trust your imagination human,
to prove that the powers of the heavens are limitless?”
write of storms unseen and nature endless miracles
***”then you may call yourself
a miracle too,
a poet***”
Aug 12, 2018
Aug 12, 2018 at 12:14 PM UTC
Now this particular girl
During a ceremonious april walk
With her latest suitor
Found herself, of a sudden, intolerably struck
By the birds' irregular babel
And the leaves' litter.
By this tumult afflicted, she
Observed her lover's gestures unbalance the air,
His gait stray uneven
Through a rank wilderness of fern and flower;
She judged petals in disarray,
The whole season, sloven.
How she longed for winter then! --
Scrupulously austere in its order
Of white and black
Ice and rock; each sentiment within border,
And heart's frosty discipline
Exact as a snowflake.
But here -- a burgeoning
Unruly enough to pitch her five queenly wits
Into ****** motley --
A treason not to be borne; let idiots
Reel giddy in bedlam spring:
She withdrew neatly.
And round her house she set
Such a barricade of barb and check
Against mutinous weather
As no mere insurgent man could hope to break
With curse, fist, threat
Or love, either.
19.1k
1672
Lightly stepped a yellow star
To its lofty place—
Loosed the Moon her silver hat
From her lustral Face—
All of Evening softly lit
As an Astral Hall—
Father, I observed to Heaven,
You are punctual.
17.7k
Our society is obsessed with the cell phone
That ever present handy little device
If we could just leave it behind
Sometimes that would be nice
I've observed people literally
Walk into a door
While looking down at their cell phone
As if gazing at the floor
A call a text or Instagram
Excuse me I have to check my mail
O my God!!!my batteries low!!
Please my phone do not fail
I know we're here for dinner
But I must text a friend
LOL and ***
Now it's time to send
Cell phones have their place
I guess in today's society
But there would not be one in existence
If it were up to me
No one can communicate
As in talking face to face
This type of interaction
Has by the cell phone been replaced
I guess that's just the way it is today
O how I long for the days of old
When you had to find a pay phone
In the heat or rain or cold
Drop a quarter in the slot
Or maybe just a dime
Better say what you want
Your running out of time
I'm just a little old fashioned I guess
I like the way it used to be
When two would sit and talk
Without interruption from technology
RLB
Feb 16, 2015
Feb 16, 2015 at 8:53 PM UTC
Biology has no conscience
It doesn't care about love
It cares about reproduction
Biology does not care if someone gets hurt in the process
Biology does not care if he was your boyfriend
Fiance
Husband
Biology has no sympathy
Lust is not the same as love
But often it is mistaken as such
4 letters
3 out of the 4 make all the difference
You are part of an on going experiment
Observed by a classroom of billions
Constantly watching
Constantly scrutinizing
Harshly graded by a force that you couldn't comprehend
Don't try to change this
People have tried to change this for longer than you could imagine
Embrace it
Apr 26, 2014
Apr 26, 2014 at 1:20 AM UTC
making love
suspends gravity
and time
seconds expand
into eternity
we are
on top of the universe
floating
in the fourth dimension
feeling
the birth of a new solar system
amidst convulsive explosions
whose brilliance
light years into the future
may be observed
by keen astronomers
we do not mind
our system
radiates and shines
in its time
nothing else matters
Mar 18, 2015
Mar 18, 2015 at 3:24 PM UTC
Having observed others and containing the self consciousness of a noticer (do other people look at me the way I look at them?) she would dress in old borrowed clothing that smelled like other peoples’ laundry and leather because secretly she wanted to wear the other people try them on and she had this wrinkle between each brow that made her look just sort of worried no matter how she tried to press and smooth that wrinkle down with her thumb and in very private moments she’d stare at her features in the mirror with a sort of curiosity because she’d been told by leering men that she was beautiful but sometimes she saw only features: Nose eyes mouth all in pretty good proportion sure but she supposed the thing that held her curiosity was not her face itself but rather the disconnect between the face and the universe of thought behind it and all this she’d marveled at a very young age as ma would see her staring at herself in front of the bathroom mirror or in store windows and tell her not to be so vain kid to hurry along
And so she feared writing about her own vulnerable beauty for fear that she might be both of those things—vulnerable and beautiful. Instead she would take an hour long train ride, fake-dozing so as not to be ticketed, walk anonymous between busy persons until she reached a place that satisfied her Washington Square park, perhaps, or some small playground on the lower east side, or down by water or the hip corner shops in Brooklyn. And there, in strangers, she would find her vulnerable beauty, and there with the aid of a pen they became her and she became them.
Feb 18, 2017
Feb 18, 2017 at 3:11 PM UTC
**Strange how the dank hand of disaster clarifies the thinking,
How all irrelevancies are scoured from the frontal lobe,
How, strangely, should you look into the morning sky, the blueness is of a brilliant, startling intensity.
How biting into a piece of fresh fruit reveals the new mouth watering, exquisiteness of clean sweet,flavour.
Strange how the dank hand of disaster allow us to consolidate our values.
Where suddenly, the drabness of yesterday becomes the brightly,beautiful now.
Where miserable mindedness adopts an abrupt re-evaluation, in that the sour faced neighbour is embraced with passion as being a fellow survivor.
Where the rich and the poor are thrown together to work willingly, cheek by jowel, for a common cause…Tomorrow!.
Strange how the dank hand of disaster brings out THE VERY BEST IN US …isn’t it ?**
Marshalg
A commonality observed In having survived many disasters over the years.
1 November 2012
Nov 1, 2012
Nov 1, 2012 at 12:26 AM UTC
I glide through the crowd
Blood rushes to my face
My hands stick with sweat
My lips open and close in prayer
But I am silent.
I stare at a wall
The carpet, a painting, a book,
But my mind will not focus.
Anything to hide the panic.
To hide the fear.
Tears are now a threat.
My panic wants to escape
But I am in public
I am being watched, observed under a microscope, scrutinised.
I must not cry.
It is as though I am
A foreigner in this world.
I want my home, locked doors,
But I do not want solitude.
I wish I were brave.
May 30, 2014
May 30, 2014 at 8:37 PM UTC
my brother-in-law’s really fit
I admire him for it
He spends much time
in exercise, in energetic thrusts
He’s a whole aerobics center;
gets all the exercise he needs:
He constantly jumps to conclusions
runs down friends, back-stabs whenever he can
side-steps responsibility
and you could say, is constantly pushing his luck
And pushing it too far too…
and goes round and round in circles
with many false arguments
But one kind thing I can say of him
he’s mindful of my health
for he must have observed how I hardly exercise
and he invites me often to his fitness program
“You scratch my back, I scratch yours,” he says…
But I’m just too lazy even for such effortless exercise
and meanwhile, he continues with his fitness program
namely, as I have said before,
jumping to conclusions and constantly pushing his luck…
while the only thing I can manage
in response to his fitness program
(darned lazy as I am, as he complains to his sis)
is to lift my middle finger
but frankly, my brother-in-law’s really fit
I admire him for it
Aug 15, 2013
Aug 15, 2013 at 9:08 AM UTC
Men and women are equal
None are above the other
In rights and respect
Equal
Men have strength yes
Yet it's women who endure
Men and women
Both are intelligent
As their brains made of the same matter
Biologically here equality stands firm
Differences of course are there
Yet minuscule
Appearances cast aside
Only few can be observed
Women and men
Both are sensitive and feel
Yet where women show it; display
Men conceal; pretend not to feel
Society kills
In tactics and ideas
Is where our message ends
For too often it's said to
Disregard the thoughts of women
Too dumb and feeble minded to be
Of Value and interest
Yet where there's Winston Churchill
The mastermind of Britain
There's also Elizabeth the 1st
The queen who beat the Spanish Armada
Hence with logics like this
Any notion of ****** inferiority**
Can be easily dismissed
As utterly ridiculous.
Jul 28, 2015
Jul 28, 2015 at 12:28 PM UTC
A few days ago I was asked to describe the person I‘m in love with,
And to my own surprise, I didn‘t really know what to say.
Of course I could have talked about your attitude to laugh at really bad comedy, or how you randomly start singing songs
And how you run like a toddler
And walk holding on to your bag with your hands in your pockets, crumbled inside yourself,
And how you never talk about it, but you miss your father,
And how you get so happy when there‘s an upcoming concert,
And how you told me you were planning on only wearing band clothes (and I didn‘t tell you, but you made me so happy),
Remember? Or how you crack jokes no one understands,
And how you fall in love with so many songs and musicians,
Or how you sit on chairs the way others sit on the floor,
Or how you sometimes scribbled song names on your books because
You knew I was going to look at them and because
You wanted me to listen to your songs,
And how I‘ve never seen someone who found that much freedom in dancing drunk,
Or how you just lay there and observed people instead,
And I could go on and on,
And I‘m not saying that those reasons aren‘t good reasons to love you,
Or that they don‘t all contribute to my broken heart,
Because they are and they do.
But what I didn‘t remember a few days ago,
Was the reason why I keep falling in love with you;
The reason why I think I could have loved you forever.
I didn‘t remember all the good things you do to others without ever letting them know,
Simply to make their life better. How you pick their drunken noses,
And make up their mistakes or talk people out of hurting them,
How you‘re always there to catch others,
No matter how hard you yourself are falling,
Or how you stayed awake and talked with me countless nights because
I was too sad to fall asleep.
I want the person who‘ll love you to know that you might not show it,
But you do care. Never assume that she doesn‘t love you,
Or that she doesn‘t care, because probably she cares a lot more than
You think. Just be patient. And love her.
And give her the time she needs to open up to you, even if it‘s an eternity. She deserves it.
Mar 19, 2015
Mar 19, 2015 at 3:44 AM UTC
I am much too alone in this world, yet not alone
enough
to truly consecrate the hour.
I am much too small in this world, yet not small
enough
to be to you just object and thing,
dark and smart.
I want my free will and want it accompanying
the path which leads to action;
and want during times that beg questions,
where something is up,
to be among those in the know,
or else be alone.
I want to mirror your image to its fullest perfection,
never be blind or too old
to uphold your weighty wavering reflection.
I want to unfold.
Nowhere I wish to stay crooked, bent;
for there I would be dishonest, untrue.
I want my conscience to be
true before you;
want to describe myself like a picture I observed
for a long time, one close up,
like a new word I learned and embraced,
like the everyday jug,
like my mother's face,
like a ship that carried me along
through the deadliest storm.
8.5k
walking through the woods i was surrounded by a plethora of golden bronze amber leaves tumbling in the wind sparkling with a star fire that evanesced from their jagged edges upon their descent. i stood entranced, mesmerized, utterly hypnotized by their glorious magnificence. i observed with intensity as a golden bronze amber leaf never having been attached to the majestic tree had no need to let go but gently released. feeling no trepidation it wholly lacked desire for manipulation to control the forces of the wind. i watched in awe and wonder realizing that it never disengaged from the tree knowing that separation is an illusion; it simply became the wind. whirling it shimmered in the autumn sun as it wafted with no need for reins allowing its destination to unfold. gingerly cascading it settled tenderly on the ground resting comfortably in ambivalence. i sensed it did not cringe when it was picked up by an unsuspecting boot but intuitively knew immediately that it was being carried and dropped off serendipitously at an auspicious location. i listened to it intently and drank in its essence as it simply lay in being not obsessing over what would happen consequent but sat in sheer stillness seemingly encompassing all totality. i was stunned to see that it lingered without judgment in undivided clarity for what wild synchronicity would come. it quenched its thirst in mystery while being completely at home in uncertainty. the golden bronze amber leaf seemed one with all that is while simultaneously retaining awareness of self-perception. as a gentle gust of wind coalesced with the beige fall sky it literally merged with the momentum enjoying the ride to its perfect destination. with delicacy it rested cozily in ambiguity whispering to me that heaven is a state and not a place. i vow surrender to black and white existence pledging fearlessly to climb higher creating life with vivid vibrancy adding golden bronze amber to my palette of colors with which i’ll paint.
©2016 janetaylor
May 11, 2016
May 11, 2016 at 5:37 PM UTC
THE POETRY SERIES
*It is the poetry of little things that causes the earth to shred and shudder
The poetry of little things that ignites the greatest moments of bliss.
A smile from a little child,
A chuckle from a stranger.
The warmth of a knitted family
The entwining of old friends
The humming from the sea shores
The journey of the moonlight
The waves, the traveling waves
The Sea, the meandering sea
The Earth, the boundless earth
And the sweet song that nature sings.
These little things, garnered with the greatest love
Observed in silence
It is this poetry,
The poetry of little things that elicit the greatest happiness*
Ovi Odiete© All right reserved
Jan 18, 2017
Jan 18, 2017 at 7:28 PM UTC
It's been long said in ancient Sanskrit texts,
"Yatha twam karasi,
Tatha twam bhogasi."
This roughly translates as 'As you sow, so you reap.'
This is true to the core but it's neither unconditional nor is it surely possible for you or me to be happy tomorrow even if we do good today. You might also have observed that sometimes you don't get exactly what you desired and yearned for when putting all your efforts. I will explain in the text that follows.
I am not Superman or a Godman blessed with super powers. I just believe in humanitarian virtues of course for all my life. And I don't despise the idea of theism. As some other people among the readers and their respective circles even I tame the same ideology about God having created the universe and then let us take charge.
I don't get involved in worshipping the creator, but I do thank that creator for having created us all. But how do I keep myself away from the various types of evils? The answer lies within.
What I identify as evil or deleterious to anyone or anything else, I don't do that and I totally despise all of it. Doing so I am aware that what I have been taking to and what I should get into. Whether it's my career or my love life, it almost totally depends on me and my Karma. The remaining few bits also depend on time and third parties who can affect my life greatly or maybe a little.
I don't know about what they quote other "Spiritual" people about and I feel that each of us can have our own views about time. I don't feel the urge to read about spiritual issues written by some well-publicised so called "Spiritual Gurus or Dharmatmas" who talk about out of the body experience.
The next time you think about some problem posed to you, your relative or a close friend, do try the following:
Just get out of your own mindset, think about the issue from a neutral point of view with your sixth sense (common sense) in right place. You're bound to find out the best way for solving it; let it be life or let it be any matter related to it.
Nov 12, 2013
Nov 12, 2013 at 4:27 AM UTC
Well let’s peek into the kitchen of Lucy and Ethel to see the baking of this 7 Layer Cake
On cue in take
Ricky is having a party in his home regarding his 10th Anniversary in managing the Night Club called “A little bit of Cuba”
He wanted something fancy
Did he say fancy?
There’s no telling what Lucy has baked into that cake
Lucy and Ethel are busy baking away
But somehow that cake is going to cause people to make a quick getaway
Now remember, this is not the Pillsbury bake off, but should say “Revenge with back off”
At this point, you are allowed to cough
The cake is in the pan and ready for the oven
As the cake is baking, Lucy and Ethel are entertaining the guest
This is not at any one’s request
While Lucy talks about Hollywood and show business, do you smell something burning?
Luc y shouts, “My cake!”
But was it too late?
Lucy and Ethel rushed to the oven
The cake was half burned and didn’t rise
Why am I not surprised?
Meanwhile, what is Lucy and Ethel going too serve for dessert?
Lucy says, “I have a plan”
Let’s open a can of fruit cocktail and add it inside the burned cake
But Ethel stats with, “How will the guest respond?”
Lucy proclaims, “Who cares, they can’t know the cake was burned
Well the dessert will be served
Think on eat at your own risk being observed
As Lucy and Ethel serve the cake, suddenly one of the guest get sick from eating the cake
Lucy of course starts to cry
Yet the baking that cake was a good try
Eat at your own risk said I.
Jun 4, 2015
Jun 4, 2015 at 6:32 PM UTC
I fathom fatherhood
His invincible feats
When that magnanimous shadow danced
Bowing his head lowly
And my cryptic looks
Staring that pugnacious shadow
To what he's been unearthing for
A little later in the twilight of dusk
My drooling curiosity burnt in persistence
As I observed a twinkling toddler
Following the lead of his father
With merry- go rounds and exciting swings
As docile as a lamb
He embraced his daddy
Cause that was his world's best swing
And then blew his index finger in air
Spinning around everywhere
The father introduced the whole world
Without shutting him up
The next half hour passed away
And there temple bells rang
And wind blew
Everything became grave
A reverberation echoed
Together with temple bells
Rung the devotional clap
Of a son
And his father...
Worshipping..
Never ever can I fathom
The unconditional fatherly love..
May 18, 2018
May 18, 2018 at 11:50 AM UTC
That's Mugwort
and that's Red Sorrel
and that over there
is Red Campion
Jane said
we were walking
on the Downs
the sky
summery warm
almost cloudless
cattle mooed nearby
a flock of birds
flew over
our heads
her hand held mine
skin on skin
warm
soft
I sensed an appley scent
about her
we had kissed
the day before
and it had been
other worldly
and now
I wanted to kiss again
but didn't want
to push forward
but wait to see
what happened
and that
she said
is White Deadnettle
smiling at me
you know
the countryside well
I said
well you Londoners
know nothing of it
but at least
you want to learn
she said
I liked the flowery dress
she was wearing
red and yellow
with a yellow sash
tied about her
and the white
ankle socks
and black shoes
(slightly muddy)
I observed her carefully
wanting to know
more of her
of nature
of us
and that bird back there
was a pheasant
she said
we paused
in the corn field
and looked back
up towards the Downs
and she turned to me
and kissed me
and held me close
and I felt almost
absorbed into her body
and wanted
to feel more and more
and she parted
and said
I'm no expert
on kissing
was that all right?
not sure
I'll need to try again
I said smiling
and she took my hand
and squeezed it
and kissed me again
and the cattle
mooed louder
and a bird
flew overhead spying
before it took off
in the sky high flying.
Oct 2, 2015
Oct 2, 2015 at 1:47 AM UTC
Before I looked forward, I looked at the sky
I looked at birds whose numbers will die
I looked at the plane threatened with tragedy
I observed the moon conquered by humanity
Before I looked forward, I looked to my right
I looked at the gas stations that filled me with fright
I saw the grass littered with trash
I looked at the stores begging for cash
And before I looked forward, I looked to the ground
I looked at the bubblegum blackened and browned
I saw the asphalt crumbling fast
I looked at the coal which once was vast
So before I looked forward, I looked right behind
I looked at the coal burnt sky drifting high
I saw the foundations of our nations
I looked at the people ignoring the implications
Then I looked up, and I looked straight forward
I looked for an end to all our horrors
I saw that soon it would all be done
And I looked forward, and I saw the sun.
Oct 30, 2017
Oct 30, 2017 at 7:23 AM UTC
*The day is coming when
a single carrot
freshly observed
will set off a revolution.
-- Paul Cezanne (1839-1906)*
Mar 24, 2014
Mar 24, 2014 at 11:46 AM UTC
it's almost two in the morning.
i toss and turn,
roll around--
nothing.
sighing, i sit up,
and think to myself,
"This hasn't happened in a while."
my mind automatically goes back to that time,
when i was younger,
and our family went to the capital.
slept in some fancy hotel
with some fancy people
with their fancy clothes.
on the second night we stayed there,
i couldn't get a wink of sleep.
i don't know whether if it was because of exhaustion
or something else.
naturally,
the next morning was hell.
i was pissy and bored
as we waited for father in the lobby.
i couldn't take a nap in public because, well,
i had my pride, of course!
chewing a gum quite aggressively,
i observed my surroundings.
my gaze hopped from one person to another.
a royal from a country i haven't even heard of.
an important figure in politics.
a celebrity.
a kid.
white blonde hair?
i haven't seen hair of that shade.
it was quite unnatural here.
i whipped my head to the left and saw
two beautiful people.
the taller was around my age.
he had the same mop of hair as the kid i saw (the shorter).
the child, on the other hand,
was most probably no older than six.
they were both awesome.
the light glowed on their figures,
and it looked like they were godsend.
i haven't seen anything more beautiful.
and who knew that who knows how many years later,
i would find myself looking back on that vivid memory.
as if it had happened yesterday.
(i feel like i'm still stuck in that time.)
Apr 12, 2015
Apr 12, 2015 at 2:15 PM UTC