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Diane K Pak Aug 2018
I know this is not the same, but it not sane to say I’m okay for days.
You said I was the hello to your goodbyes..
All I heard is the other side of no lies.
But I sat there and can’t cried because I would feel like I’ve died to try.

People said it seems that I can’t get all of you out of my head.
Where it’s nowhere to put my love in a some paper bag.

Suffocate and throw away the best I had, again my heart said no I said.
Tell me why not so, but it’s because you and not I that had know.

I feel it that letting go does more damages then causing the damages to let go.
To say I won’t let go of my heart, but the love was loving you than better then we even start.

To forget of wanting my love without loving you.
I needed to change this to only just knowing him not wanting you.

Still falling for your big bubbles eyes.
Yet, I couldn’t hide.
So, i found myself without I.

What can I do to found you in you again?
MU Oct 2018
Postopone the trip
To help another
Continue the journey

Postone the trip
Embark a new one
With your soul

You are the mistress
Of the path
From tears to fight
Repenting missteps
All your way
By filling others
With delight

Postpone the trip
And understand
The real purpose
Of all travels

To find a truth
Not reach a place
Inside your mind
Not on the map

Postpone the trip
And you shall find
The source of light
Inside your heart

Postopne the trip
You are your home
Regardless of
Where you shall leave

Be the destination
You want to see
Be the change
You’re looking for

Postpone it
And you will realize
The end is you
It’s always YOU...
Understanding the real purpose of travel
Spenser Bennett Apr 2016
Maybe life will be everything I thought it was.
Maybe this ain't the escape I dreamt of once.
I need to slow down, maybe say, "pause".
Take the reins, pull over these lost thoughts.

It gets better. It gets better.
I wear my mood like the weather.
It gets better.
Right now, Fall is my favorite sweater.
Bright orange reminds of the day I first met her.

True colors finally show just before the snow
Shoulders shrug before they get cold
I should've known.
I wore my coat to postpone fresh grown sorrow. I should've known.

And I'm thinking back to Summer's plenty
Forgetting the day she left me
And the way it blessed me
Now I'm drunk with my feet up, breathing in real serenity.
Lucius Furius Aug 2017
January 1, 1000

Year One-thousand, January One,
starts the new millennium.
The villein, Jacques, in Reims,
wakes to find his world unchanged.
His hut stinks; his flour's wormy.
He fears God's wrath, but trusts His mercy.
Walled in by his community,
set in Christian certainty;
by their fireplace, with his family, sitting,
he plans the plots he'll plant come spring
The stars above him do not move;
he knows God's power --and His love.

                                                          ­                                        
1118

Others loathe such conformity:
their minds and spirits must be free.
Tutor Pierre finds knowledge increase
in the arms of his pupil Héloise.
Risking life and reputation,
they learn a different conjugation.
(L'Université de Paris's great philosophe
and the canon's niece --in reckless love.)
You think the danger overstated?
Let me remind you that Abélard was castrated
--and the **** confined to a nunnery ...
whence she wrote most eloquently.
("Though I should think of God, I think of thee.")  


225

Dear Francis,
I hear that when you visited St. Peter's
you exchanged clothes with a beggar
and stood all day at the door of the church;
that you asked the people of Gubbio
to be kind to the wolf who was eating their sheep;
that you call birds your "sisters" and fire, your "brother";
that you would have us give all that we own to the poor....
--Perplexed in Perugia

Dear Perplexed,
I ask only that you see God's hand in all creation:
wolf, *****, flower, stone --
God gives to each His rain and His sun.
What man is in the eyes of the Lord,
that I am --and nothing more.


1517

Martin Luther says you can't buy salvation;
the individual conscience is the only true religion.
Of intermediaries, he'll have none;                              
Man is responsible to God alone.
The Bible, being God's holy Word,
must, by each Christian, be read and understood.
Humble toil is a service of God
far surpassing the holiness of monks.
God is terrible in his majesty;
by faith in God, are we made free.  


1611

[London; Shakespeare addresses assembled friends as he
retires to Stratford;... a mysterious stranger rebuts.]

"Despite it surely not being my intention
to slight the worth of imagination,
to doubt the value of our fictive craft,                                          
there can be no question:  in their import,
the actual deeds of actual men
must, perforce, surpass the disembodied pen.
This [pointing] is merely men upon a stage;
these, merely words I've placed on the page."

"Master Shakespeare, I beg to differ:
it is your words which will live forever.
When fiery Phoebus ten million times
has run his course 'round rotund Earth, men will
still be astonished at Lear's great woe,
still sigh with Juliet for her Romeo."


1711

They've placed Monsieur Voltaire in prison.
This will not postpone the Age of Reason.
Men will speak and write as they see fit,        
be governed by laws and the intellect.
        

1783

[General Washington, at Annapolis, Maryland]

"My friends, I'm honored deeply,
by the faith which you here show in me,
your confidence that these qualities
which served so well in war might now
to governance be applied successfully.    

"I, myself, have doubts:
I fear that battle's clear, cold steel will be dulled
in the gauzy murk of diplomacy.
And though I were suited to this high estate most perfectly
still I should shrink from it.
I think of Caesar,
returning, triumphant, from Gaul,
his heart full of zeal for the good of his people,                  
who achieved much, but whose lordly rule
gave way to others far less wise....

"There's a name for a man raised above men as a god:
it's 'king'. I'll have no kings!

"Thus, I surrender to you,
the duly-elected representatives of the States,
the outward and visible sign of my authority:
this sword. Let the world take note
that these united States, born under tyranny's yoke,
shall, in word and deed, henceforth
be governed democratically."


July 27, 1890

Vincent finds his world has narrowed,
(--what wonders he'd seen in la lumière d'Arles!--)
all the things for which he's sorrowed--
rejection by his cousin Kee,
reliance on his brother's charity,
failure of his "painters' community"--
come welling up....
He walks to the field from which he'd come.
In his pocket, the letter he'll never mail.
The wheatfield he'd so recently painted.
In his pocket, by his chest,...
the gun.


July 16, 1945

[Robert Oppenheimer, near Alamagordo, New Mexico]

    If the radiance of a thousand suns
    were to burst into the sky at once,
    that would mirror the Mighty One's splendor....
    I am become Death --World-destroyer.
    --The Bhagavad Gita

Everything was so much clearer
when it seemed the Germans might get the thing first....
Now it's all so terribly muddy....
Who knows what these generals'll do with it.
...The radiance of a thousand suns....                                                         ­                                                 

That 100-foot tower --completely gone!...
If we didn't do it, someone surely would....
I am become Death --destroyer of Worlds.  


January 1, 2000

Year Two-thousand, January One,
starts the new millennium.
The sales-clerk, Jacques, in Reims,
wakes to find his world unchanged.
He's got Internet access! Two cars!
He doesn't fear the universe....
The only group he's part of
is guys who drink at the local bar....
He goes to church, but doesn't believe.
His job, his marriage --nothing is certain....
Even the stars above him move.
He knows God's power --but not His love.
Hear Lucius/Jerry read the poem:  humanist-art.org/old-site/audio/SoF16.MP3 .
This poem is part of the Scraps of Faith collection of poems (https://humanist-art.org/scrapsoffaith.htm )
Camilla Peeters May 2018
The realms of day and night splice in front of me. Rubbernecker, you know me well enough to understand that I postpone the transition every evening as long as physically possible. I forbid my eyes to see that which I do not believe in. I forbid my mind to tell stories. I forbid myself to accept that there are things I have to deal with. Do you forbid this too? Was that you, the young man in my dreams last night, who stood next to me and saw that the mountain we had climbed together was incredibly steep and still chose to jump, instead of descending slowly, with me? Why do you not want to descend slowly with me, Rubbernecker? Why does death come after me at night? I could hear the matt smack with which the young man hit a flank. Then I looked up and the blue stared back, emptiness invaded me. I feel invaded. Is death another word for closure? Am I running away from closure? Rubbernecker, do you want to throw yourself of the mountain and close off the blue sky to me?
eight nights (part 7)
Naive girl Oct 21
Pounding chest in my ears

Your hurtful words, throwing away years

I ask to postpone this talk, I am wise beyond your years

But you continue to attack, defending your 12 beers

Alcoholics are hard to reason with, they defend the habit to the death

You use all your ammo to destroy me, until you have none left

I hope you lie awake at night and think of what you’ve done

I hope on your death bed you see what you’ve become

I hope the guilt eats you like vultures eat their pray

I hope you’ll never forgive yourself, for things you said today.
Mia Aug 5
I never knew what loneliness was,
until I found myself trapped by these walls.
Powerless, prisoner to my wants, needs, and desires.
Cursed with the knowledge of what I wanted,
but unable to do anything to get it or free me.

The archangel came in that day unexpectedly.
On a wretched Sunday evening;
when all she had done was cry
and feel sorry for herself.

They circled each other warily,
like wolves who just met and
are trying not to trespass on each others territory.

Aren’t you going to say hello? She asked.
In a moment, he replied, I’m looking at you.
Why? She threw back. Certainly took you long enough to visit again.
How have you been, he asked?
I have nothing new to say, she replied.

Michael looked at her, quiet.
Arent, you going to kiss your love hello? She asked.
If I start I won't stop. He said.
And so what? She asked.

Michael wrapped his arms around her,
pressing his lips lightly on hers.
She kissed him deeply,
tongue sliding into his mouth.
She pressed closer against him.
He pulled her in by her waist,
fusing to her body.
Tasting her, inhaling her, touching her,
watching her, listening to her, knowing her.
His soul soaring.


He held her and asked, What do you see?
Everything. Nothing.
All I see is you.
You are everything.

Wrong, he whispered.

There is nothing without US.

She stared into his eyes.
I ******* missed you, Athena.

Finally. She said. And then broke down into tears.
He turned her around; Let it out love, let it out.
I missed you so **** much. She cried
And you came here with your walls high up.
I feel locked out. I feel alone. She said.
No walls that others don’t put up around me.
You have the only key, use it.

I shouldn’t be here right now,
I came in to make sure you were ok
and just to inhale you.

Don’t ever withhold your love from me.
kiss me like the world is on fire
and we don’t ******* care.

Understand one thing.
This addiction will **** me.
I am just trying to postpone death. He said.

She whispered, I can't breathe without you.
He tilted his head, looking into her. I am the air you breathe.
She whispered. You are.
He wrapped his arms around her,
slipping her onto her back.

Hovering over her.
His wings spread out, white and beautiful.
He moved down slowly,
kissing her sincerely and lovingly.
letting his tongue press into hers,
his hand on her hip.
His heart flowing into her.

She said you have no idea how much I needed that.
She kissed him lovingly,
tasting his steadfast devotion.
She took his heart with its steady beats and gave him hers,
beating erratically. She held his face lost in his spell.

He opened his eyes to drink in every ray of light bouncing off his woman’s exquisite body.
She looked back,
absorbing every emotion on his face.

I have never loved like this before. He said.
Ever? She asked.
Ever. He said.
He kissed her passionately, wantonly, hotly.

How have we lived without each other for centuries?
I can’t take the agony, She said.
We have never been apart, in our hearts. He replied.
She kissed him fiercely, stripping away his soul and body,
loving him desperately.
I have never loved this way either she sighed.

No human has, he responded.
We are not human. We never were. She said.
He held her close. if I asked you to stay like this, with me.
Just like this, would you?
For how long? She asked.
Forever. He said.

She pulled him tight against her. Stay.
Try to tear me off you. He said.

Why do you still love me more than anyone else Michael?
I know you have had other lovers, other lives;
I know you have been on different planes throughout time. However, your heart pulls me.
Every single moment of every day.
Eventually, the pull will be the end of me.

I love you for following me throughout time.
For coming here to my prison to visit me.
For letting me find me and be me.
And for pulling me close until I can't breathe
each time you see me.
I worship you, my goddess, he whispered.
I need you. Always and forever, she said.

I have to go, he said after a while.
She kissed him tenderly,
missing him already.
Be well, and be safe.
Stay in love.
I am in this with you.
He kissed her forehead sweetly and vanished.
Puneet Nov 2018
"Forget me it will hurt you later".
She said !!
"I can postpone my unhappiness".
He thought....

"Okay....."
He replied...
Maram Apr 18
I lay my skin out bare
For you to see every vein
Unfold every roll
Meet the aftermath of pain
Caress the white hairs dug deep,
Waiting, for time’s curse
They will try to repel it,
To prevent nature’s call
Anti-aging creams cannot postpone
the growth
Of my soul
Can’t they tell?
The wrinkles in my skin
Are soiled ground
Don’t they know?
I’ve been waiting for a lifetime
To finally say ‘Hello’.
Greg Jones Oct 2018
We were driving 95, thought we’d stay here for the night
In Bay Shore.
The party waits til I arrive so we start the night off right
In Bay Shore.
Summer nights keep rolling,
And the night is ours, we own it.
All my fears and regrets postpone it,
Just hold it, for a moment.
Is it the salt air deep in my pores
That allures me back to the shore?
There’s something so real about Bay Shore.
Oh Bay Shore…

These city lights on the skyline
Keeps calling me on the hotline.
I’m not coming home.
At least for the week but I’m feeling guilty.
‘Cause I can’t admit I’m cheating on Charm City.

I’m just following the beat
To the beach right up the street
In Bay Shore.
Take the boat out for the day
While the sun’s out on display
In Bay Shore.
And I know I’m being bold
But I could see me growing old
In Bay Shore.
And the whole city’s my friend,
How could anything contend
With Bay Shore?

Melody’s from the ocean
Always seems to entice my emotions.
Thinking how we left words unspoken,
And we really got nowhere at all,
So broken.
You and Charm City left me so jaded
While my feelings became so faded.
Whatever I lost I’ll find it
But I’m reminded

These summer nights on the shore line
Soothes my senses, keeps me inclined
To call this home.

— The End —