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Aaron LaLux Dec 2016
American Refugee


Head feels like a ton of bricks,
trying to retrace my misstepped steps…

Where have I awoken?

What country am I in?

Who was that girl last night?

Why did I choose to go through it again?

When will I finally say enough is enough?

Enough is enough.

Why does the poison feel so good?

I love everything that hates me,
alcohol and cigarettes,
promiscuous girls date me,
but only for a night…

A night was had,
dancing music,
flirting new friends,
we were all in it together,
a glorious moment,
with people from all over the world,
we were on top of the world,
surfing on a rocket,
on Cloud Nine with some fine felines,
bumping beats with a pocket full of sunshine,
flashy lights and flashy ladies,
drinks on me,
literally,
drinks on me,

I felt like we all felt,
so together,
so how’d I end up,
so all alone,
nursing a hangover,
with poached eggs and mochaccinos,
served by a surprisingly cute waitress,
at a cafe somewhere in New Zealand…

Head feels like a ton of bricks,
trying to retrace my steps…

I came here,
to this country,
to escape Hollywood,
where I was trapped in it’s trapping trappings,

trapped in it’s clubs,
trapped in it’s women,
trapped in it’s drugs,
trapped in it’s cliches,
so why is it,
I found myself,
on the other side of the world,
at club with some women on drugs trapped in this same cliche?

Same ****t,
different country,
I guess you can take the boy outta Hollywood,
but you can’t take the Hollywood outta the boy…

I am the world’s first American Refugee,
except I didn’t come on a boat,
in ragged clothes clinging to my body,
and ragged hopes clinging to my psyche,

I came,
on an airplane,
in a first class seat,
dining on the offerings of a corporate worldwide empire,

but it is not the means of movement,
it is the intention behind the actions that matters,

and I came,
with the intention to create a healthier life,
a cleaner life,
a better future for myself and all those I love.

I am an American Refugee,

I am an American Refugee,
fleeing the subconscious oppressions of my country,
fleeing the persecution of all things I held holy and sacred,
I am tired of witnessing the spiritual ****** of my falling comrades,

I am a American Refugee,
more specifically,
a Hollywood Refugee,
fleeing the bright lights and large egos,
searching for solace and refuge,
amongst the towering rainforest trees of New Zealand,

I fled the toxic water the toxic air and the toxic people,
to drink fresh water breathe clean are and befriend friendly people,

so why,
why,
why would I subject myself,
to the same oppressions that I’ve attempted to flee from?

Justin Bieber echoed across the dance floor,

“Is it to late to say I’m sorry now?
Yeah I know that I let you down,
is it too late to say I’m sorry now?”

“I’m sorry.”,

“Sorry.”,

“Sorry.”,

“Yeah I know that I let you down,
is it too late to say I’m sorry now?”,

and as cheesy and cliche as it sounds,
I get the chills because I knew exactly what he was saying,
and I wondered if anyone else in that club was an American Refugee,
I wondered if anyone else in that club knew what Justin Bieber was saying,
or if they were just dancing because of the beat,
and they were just singing along because that’s what they think they’re supposed to do,
because most people have to be told what’s cool,
then force fed that coolness until they have too many pairs of shoes,

no amount of shoes will ever bring you real happiness,
and I honestly apologize,
we Hollywoodians were put in a position to lead the free world,
and everyone listened to us,
you all listened to us,
you gave us your ears and your hearts,
your souls and your minds,
and all we gave you were improbable dreams,
and glorious visions,
of an unsustainable lifestyle that you go broke trying to duplicate,

when will you realize you can chase,
but you can never catch something that doesn’t really exist?

And I’m sorry,
but I give up,
I’m done,
because,

“Yeah I know once more I’ve let you down,
is it too late to say I’m sorry now?”.

I’m sick and tired so I’m retiring,
I’m retreating to build a retreat,
somewhere in New Zealand,
where I can be free again,

and I’ve finally made it here,
but it seems mentally I’m not prepared,
because I’m still going to clubs with a bunch of girls,
then getting used up foolishly because I foolishly thought they cared,

who cares?

I don’t want the weight of the world on my shoulders anymore,
I don’t need all eyes on me,
I just want to get rid of all my wants,
so that I can finally be freed and have all that I need,

you must get rid of your wants,
so you can do what you like,

and I do feel a little bit relieved to finally be in New Zealand,
but honestly the weight of the world is still on my shoulders,

I still can’t shake this feeling,
that I’m just going through the routine,
as I write these words on this laptop,
and fuel my words with free range eggs and caffeine,

up on this mountain all alone,
even though I’m at a crowded cafe,
and it feels like sunrise,
even though it’s already mid-day,

my head feels like a ton of bricks,
trying to retrace my misstepped steps…

∆ Aaron La Lux ∆

author of

The Poetry Trilogy
The Holy Trilogy
The HH Trilogy
James Wisp Sep 2011
go home
the musics
over
take cover
alone
not
forever
get ******
enter drone
run down
the list
of things
forgot
find
the zone
hits
the spot
taste
edge
makes sense
when
music stops
retrace
eyes
find
their stare
inside
the mind
kind
relaxed
void
slows
down
time
the musics
done
quiet
quite silent
echoes
off
skull sides.
How can I love thee,
if thou art my enemy?
How can I love thee,
if thou art my agony?

I fancy my love is futile
I's lost in thee in one blink of the eye
'Twas a dull day with a tempest worried and grey
No charm as splendid as the salubrious May
Vanished worlds are real to me today

How can I love thee,
whilst I shine but wither in despair?
How can I love thee,
when the mist replaces the air?

O, I can't see thy face, o no!
I'm trapped in this ghastly limbo
I look askance at the angered sky
My voice is coarse my heart's empty
My songs are shy my chest is dry

How can I love thee,
with this guileless but wondrous intimation!
Heavens are our first but final destination
where love is a gift and a token of affection

How ill I am!
Wronged by my own love and longing
Whilst the grass is green and
the stars are twinkling
This bitter cold is my weeping

O promises! Why did thou fail my soul?
Thy tongue does but smell of foul
Kneel by me, I entreat!
You little lie that could only cheat!

O resentment! How sleepy is thy mind!
Now I the master demand, awake!
Yet show thy patience, relieve me from behind
Forget me not, for the world's sake!

O laughter! In thy severe idiocy
Rise from thy unsmart repose!
Retrace thy steps, enslave thy feet!
Bid yourself go; and find but a better, brighter rose!

Slaughter yourself, o infatuation,
I thy master insist, decay!
Set my grim heart in awesome daylight
Send my frosted feet onto liberation!

Flowers of the devil, flowers of laudation.
I believe in praise and its own strange admiration.
Yet my roams are no longer of importance;
but heave my senses from assault,
kiss, kiss myself away!

Still, my heart tastes like ******,
in its misery and pangs of silenced desperation.
O words, hinder me from the joy of anger,
defeat my thirst for blinded and serene assassination!

The gentle cry, the loss of hope
rings all over but shields us in vain:
As pale as the yellow falling rain to
heal my wounds, cure my lonely pain
This mounds of hate should remain;
Until my stern heart melts to love again.
mark john junor Jun 2013
eternity
just a wave of the hand
just a casual thought to bind you to
to this fate for eternity

because you
thought it would be all like yesterday
but the road never remains the same
you can retrace your steps
but you can never go back once you've gone
never be where you once stood
and she looks at you different today
she looks like a stranger to me more and more
as her own road has become strange to her

today was filled with finding ourselfs a new home
but its really a search to find the old one
to try and recapture what we had
the world is before me
a new sky
a new sun
even the air is strange to me

three am
we find a parking lot
and just for a quick laugh
we find a shopping cart
she climbs in and i push faster and faster
trying to catch the stars aflame
trying to beat the rust that moves over the heart
trying to beat the slow misery of moving apart

she wont bed anyone but me
i will never speak to the girl she hates serenity ever again
we fell asleep after making love
slow and careful love
careful to show each-other we haven't lost each-other yet
i love you
edit: ditto
Lucy Tonic Jan 2012
The pack is gone
Both my crutch and my friends
The stove is not as hot
As this grudge on my head
So I’ll retrace the string
Back to its liquid source
Curl up in bed to wither
Of regret and remorse
Or I could go anywhere
Pull my records to my chest
Use my curls as a pillow
And drink myself to death
Amber Daydreams Oct 2011
How often do you think of humanity? Truly consider the time our species infested this ball in an abyss. These are my thoughts at their purest form. After everything else has been stripped down, I ultimately retrace everything back to that perspective. The original provocation hardly matters. Typically it's a particular situation, debate, or repetition that will set me off. Today it happened to be silence.

The vivid image of ladders, sleek and comparative to the steps to climb up on the side of a swing-set, shooting into the sky. We all get one and we climb at all our ambitions. It's an endless cycle of steps, higher and higher away from the ground. Even if you wanted to stop there is no going back down (it's time). There is never anything to truly look forwards to at the end of your ladder. You'll just fall back into the ground. This is why I think religion is so prominent. No one wants to believe that there is nothing once their time is up. Perhaps this exact metaphor is why heaven was ideologically created in the clouds.

Everything is just to pass the time.
So take another step. (the past never passes, it simply amasses)
I do not mean to offend anyone with this metaphor. My beliefs are that I am ignorant, I do not feel that my train of thought is the "right" way. So, just take my metaphor for what it's worth and leave it at that if you do not agree.
FVERR Dec 2011
Having been lost in eyes not meant to be found
Bound tightly emotions not meant to surround
The margin that fractions insaneness and Love
That outlines and contours the one I speak of

That borders the patterns defining her face
That playfully teases a careful retrace
That courses her body through each of her curves
And serves now as comfort for unsettled nerves

For now feeling lingers eager to embrace
The space it was once deemed unfit to encase
Through chance and through cryptical forces above
Love's passion retaliates through Destiny's shove

And the push with its knowledge finds in second round
Only loosely leashed are emotions unbound
And with unfirm restraint, and her tentative sighs
Surprised both are we to be lost in our eyes
I fell in love, but she flew out the moment I made it known. But now I am with her  :)
Jieun Sep 2019
Those are the times
Where mornings seems shorter
And the nights seems longer
Those are the moments
Where you lay in bed
With nothing but thoughts
Thoughts in your head
Feelings in your heart
Sometimes even just wondering
Why everything fell apart?
Sometimes you’ll just feel empty
You’ll just feel tired
You’ll feel like being happy
Was a facade you always lied
Sometimes you’re just there
Laying in bed
No thoughts in your head
Sleepiness wasn’t knocking on your door
Seeing times passes by more and more
You lay there with your eyes blinking
Staring at the ceiling, thinking
“Why is this happening to me?”
“What was happening?”
“What’s wrong with me now?”
“What changed?”
“Where did I go wrong?”
You start to retrace your memories
From the very beginning
You start to think back about those times
Even some bad endings
That’s where the tears starts coming
That’s where your eyes starts blurring
You didn’t know what was happening to you
You didn’t know if the sadness you felt was true
Was it the sadness you kept for so long?
Or was it just because you were tired of being strong?
You didn’t know
But you laid there
Crying
Sobbing
Whimpering
Sniffling
Just letting out your emotions with this cry
Without even knowing why
But as you finish crying
You started thinking
Now you’re staring
Not knowing what you were looking
But you felt empty once again
And the cycle starts over again
Until sleep
Finally comes to you
Your eyes now feel heavy
Your mind feels light too
But you know that was already too late
You accepted your fate
Sleep was always came slow
So now it was morning again
And the night became another

Sleepless night
David Swinden Feb 2017
Tomorrow from home it will be our last goodbye
Already I can feel the tears swell in my eyes
It will be a  difficult  day but its one I have to face
Memories of many good times that I will retrace

Your Memories are vague now day is night and night is day
As time has passed dementia has made you this way
It pains me but the doctor has left me with no choice
I will cradle all your past times and hear your voice

One last night and It already feels like you know
Although not everyone else seems to think so
The care home looms like a big dark cloud
The emotions inside, I want to scream out loud

When tomorrow arrives it will be your final abode
A one last I love you one last loving hug and hold
After six years of loyalty to the Mum I have loved and cared
Rebuild my life, wipe away the tears, on good times we shared

David Swinden © 7/2/2017

Poetry pen name Emotional Man
smallhands May 2014
so you wanna play good cop, bad cop
I've got all you wanna know
thanks for the time out of your day spent on me
it means alot
retrace my steps just to satisfy you
claiming my innocence
but whatever I do
I end up being accused

-c.j.
hadley Oct 2016
the day you stopped feeling like yourself
transparent window panes became frosted
with the cool heat of his disinterest
the kaleidescope of your mind began to retrace itself
praying to find a moment where you could
still trick yourself into thinking
that this was something
real
and i am left here turning and screaming
and praying for a day where i can feel warmth
that doesn't come from five minutes in his presence
i dig my nails into my skin because the sharpness of the pain distracts from the sandstorms in my heart
dry and hot and nothing left to give
i look to the stars and try to pray for a future
where i'm not still thinking about the look on his face
when he turned away
and the softness of his voice when it speaks my name
Put your arm around my waist.
Let us share a kiss so chaste
that even sinners will be vouchsafed
by its purity and be graced.

I am debased by its foretaste,
encased in the sin of lust.
Lips interlaced like a corset yet undone,
enslaved by your lascivious tongue
.

Come hold my hand and retrace our steps
back to where we first embraced,
unscathed by want, need or disgrace.
Where we raced into each other with haste.

Crazed with passion made brave by fate,
seal my end with this misplaced date.
Ignore my complaint and acquaint yourself with me.
Debase the chaste kiss that started this greedy need in me
.

Forgive me for I have strayed, half crazed,
into a kiss that coursed and raced through my soul
like poison not yet sated, straight into craven depravity.
Engraved upon my heart forevermore, is my last kiss.
© JLB
09/09/2014
23:37 BST
D Loup May 2016
Stay a while, just a little while longer
let me just retrace your face with my eyes
I'll memorize your sunlight gaze, I'll take a picture

Cause wherever you go is wherever I won't
And whenever I say, it's not that you don't
I just want you to stay, stay, stay

And every day that passes, my anchors get heavier
And whenever the wind blows, it doesn't lead me to you
I whenever I breathe, I can never breathe you in

So stay a while, I'll just take your picture
Every little detail, I'll scar on my walls
It will never be better than what's in front of me now

And by the time you read this, it's already too late
You're already gone and no, I'm okay
But it would be better to stay, stay, stay

And I'm trapped inside these words and pages
I've found that feelings don't go, they attach
And so wherever you are, I'll write about you

And I say no I'm okay just like the moon says
No, I don't want a brand new day
Dear,  I say no because you never said yes
Michelle Argueta Dec 2017
you’re staring at a wrench display
in a failing sears 10 minutes before closing
and don’t recognize the reflection in the stainless steel.
you’ve been here a million times,
run your fingers along band saws a million times,
memorized the store’s playlist, learned “Love Hurts" by Nazareth
but you’re still trying to find something that connects,
something to retrace the steps to what pushed you out the door,
placed cold hands in empty pockets, made you stop
to buy cigarettes and brought you here again.
your blood pumps slower in places of transition,
only walked through to get to the mall
or back through to poorly parked cars
and you know a lot about
being used to move on
but left behind.
an employee asks if you’re alright
and you say yes
because you know they’re running out their shift
and don’t want to deal with your ****
and how could you tell them
that today, your skin feels foreign.
maybe you’ll find something in
winter coats and blackout curtains
but until then you make a home
on a display mattress
because you only live in liminal spaces.
you’re only grounded
between phases, in inbetweens.
you rely on uncertainty and in this economy,
the sears might be gone before you realize you’ll miss it.
"love hurts by Nazareth
seeps through the speakers
inside of Sears."

- Julia Champagne "By Nazareth"

if you've been inside a sears at any point after like, 2011, i think you'll agree it's an otherworldly experience in the worst ******* way. we all find comfort in weird places sometimes though.
Love has earth to which she clings
With hills and circling arms about—
Wall within wall to shut fear out.
But Thought has need of no such things,
For Thought has a pair of dauntless wings.

On snow and sand and turn, I see
Where Love has left a printed trace
With straining in the world’s embrace.
And such is Love and glad to be
But Thought has shaken his ankles free.

Thought cleaves the interstellar gloom
And sits in Sirius’ disc all night,
Till day makes him retrace his flight
With smell of burning on every plume,
Back past the sun to an earthly room.

His gains in heaven are what they are.
Yet some say Love by being thrall
And simply staying possesses all
In several beauty that Thought fares far
To find fused in another star.
You throw yourself at my feet like a child, arms all splayed and
Ready to welcome.

The words you speak are so sweet like mid-morning dew, honey of the night is all that
Remains in the morning.

Your soul aches to know what it is like to be in my arms, but my arms ache with the
Weight of your soul.

The hope you put into this "thing" is beautiful and frightening, being ready to give up
All you have gained.

Knowing the hurt and pain of my darkened past does not throw you, and you
Are always near.

But can you not see all the confusion and twisted branches that have become the
Life I live?

Do you really have a desire to climb to the top of this tree, for fear of falling head-first
Is always there?

I flip and balk and retreat and retrace and say "I don't know," but you are always
Waiting with a hand.

In the wings of my life you wait until the curtain is open and the stage is set, the trap door open and the
Time is right.
-D Apr 2011
I have begun to paint our portrait
like a woman in love would do;
with your hands on my waist
and my arms around your neck,
nose nestled into your chest.
But as the final touches occur,
(I save your glasses for last, for
the light’s reflections on the lenses were what
caught my eye at first glance.)
I turn to you to get them right and

You
slip
through my grasping fingers,
slick & slippery you.
I beg and I try to hold onto
your glowing face
your shining hair
your haunting voice,
but when I open my paint-smothered hands,
you’re no longer there.
Like the lost back of an earring,
I retrace my steps,
wondering where I could have possibly misplaced you
                          (done wrong),
and stumble upon the truth:
as the paint dries upon my hands, I realize
I have forgotten my name.

And as I wash my hands
(of you?)
in the bitterest of waters, I ponder
how terrible it is to be forgettable.

I leave the brushes on the easel,
the paint pots out to dry and crack,
and the canvas is left
without your best feature.
Ayeshah Dec 2011
Come to me,
*** with me.
fall into lust
as our
love consumes us,
let me ride you...
Like
tidal-waves
you crash into to me...
Gently
so gently
your filling me,
filling me
until I cry out
begging you to stop
yet
wanting so much more.
*** for me,
come to me.
Holding on,
holding me
tight
mmhmm
tighter...
The
weight of you
all on me
has
me feeling
so
protective,
loved, cherished,
treasured,
accepted
and
so wanted...
Come to me,
*** with me.
Your
kisses trailing
over my body
making me dizzy
leaving me breathless..
*** for me,
come to me.
I
yearned for you too long now,
my body's calling
for more
and
my hungers overflowing.
*** with me,
come to me.
Open
me and play within
like
hide and seek,
the keys deep within.
Kiss me
here-  slide farther....
now kiss me there.
*** for me,
come to me.
I
have a notion to pretend,
role play
and
change this tryst into a romantic
randevú.
I need you.
I'm  begging you
Please
I'm
longing
and
wanting
you....
Meet
me in our bedroom.
let's
retrace our steps,
repeat
what's
recently transpired-
Come to me
*** for me!
Always Me Ayeshah ®
Copyright ©
Ayeshah K.C.L.N 1977-Present YEAR(s)
All right reserved ®
Amanda Kay Burke Nov 2020
Moving faster on than the speed of light
I am stuck here standing still
Make the journey look so easy
The climb is all uphill

I have attempted to take the first step
Cannot manage even minute motion
Limbs must weigh a thousand pounds
Resistance as if in the ocean

My awareness acutely sharpens
Realize I am in over my head
Suspected the pain would hit me eventually
Didn't know it would feel like a ton of lead

Waves of loneliness continue crashing down
Drowning in a sea of solitude
Silence keeps me company at night
Amplifying disquietude

Toxic impure tainted thoughts
Stain images in my brain
One by one they descend and splatter
Like stinging drops of acid rain

Poisoning environment
Questions harsh and demanding
Every breath inhaled is polluted
My body somehow remains standing

Inside hopes are spiraling to the ground
Impact results in fire
Burning dignity
Blackened and charred
Flames that never tire

Wayward demons romp in soul
Delight in my dismay
Carving tic-tac-toe boards into flesh
Misery just another game they play

I reached a brand new all time low
Abandoned strength to care
Cannot find the motivation to do Laundry
Today I wore no underwear

Those unfortunate enough
Cross my path
Targets for my distress
Knowing causing them despair
Does not make mine any less

I bear witness to actions
Hardly can trust my eyes
This selfish behavior is that of
Somebody I do not recognize

A sporadic black hole swallowing light
Eclipsing visible sun
Pacing anxious circles
Trapped
Nowhere to run

I wonder if you gazed at me now
Would you feel any emotion at all?
Have you closed off your heart from me
A tall
Thick
Cement wall?

For one last kiss I would trade with glee
Every possession I own
Nostalgia blooms under skin
Chilling to the bone

I felt lightning when we touched
Flash of passion warm and strong
I feel frozen without that spark
Depending on it so long

The galaxies in eyes were deep
Brighter than the multitude of heavens stars
Shining harder when staring at me
Still sparkle wherever you are

I miss the way torsos collided
Hugging eachother tight
Perfect puzzle pieces molded
Fitting together just right

So much time experienced by your side
Why do I yearn for more?
Should be content with memories
Let you walk out the door

An invisible string tethers me here
Tied with fear and blame
Following like a shadow
Like a moth to flame

A small voice tucked within
Whispered phony fantasies
Argued there was still hope for us
Was wrong to entertain those pleas

You take my universe in palms of your hand
With fingers firmly shake
It collapses
Manage to convince me
It was caused by MY mistake

Again you paint my world grey
Colors fade from sights eyes see
I have no right to be mad that you took them away
You are the one who gave them to me

The day you decided to leave
Without saying goodbye
Consider a sort of funeral
Let our relationship die

Twilight finds us separate places
Dwelling in a dream
I inhabit dreaded ditches
Realities worse than they seem

But I was affected more drastically
By the void left behind
You felt a bit emptier alone
I lost huge chunks of heart and mind

You carried on with your chin held high
No ghosts stalking every move
Recollection of rippling presence
Haunting hologram I can't remove

Into self-pity I throw myself
Asking for merciful end
How else will I find relief?
Tried countless ways to mend

That ends in certain failure
Lacerations cannot fully close
They bleed and bleed and bleed
Dripping out woes

And I was at breaking point
Each cell cracked and shattered
Exploded into tiny particles
Damaged
Across soil scattered

With a gust of wind was disbanded
I'm fated to retrace my tracks
Collecting pieces of my soul
Haven't yet gotten all back

You changed me irreversibly
Can't stand my reflection
Where beauty you used to know once stood
Is a paradigm of imperfection

For life of me I can't remember
When switched from hot too cold
The truth is my temperature dropped
My hand is now too icy to hold
Phew. That took awhile to get down but worth the effort. I had a hard time finding an ending but what do you think?
Hayley Schiete Feb 2014
Talking @ 11-12: I'm not here to rap, or have some sorta flow. I'm just here to project my words, the way they were meant to be.. spoken..

[start @ :21]
I retrace the image of us that you've drawn
I can't help but to photograph just for the memories
I time the seconds in between the breaths you take...
I weigh the heaviness of my heart as I watch you erase
The perfect portrait of what you and I had...

There's still shades of graphite left on that blank page
So I paint a picture of something new
As the pigment covers the canvas
I can't help but to notice
The remains of graphite
Peeking through

[before :53]

Our history is left-handed
Each word that's written
Is blurred with a simple stroke
That graphite is blended into the lines of yesterday...
I type so I can move forward
As my hands click with each letter
I wonder what you're doing//
I'll always miss holding your left hand
And I'll miss the silvered side of that hand
From blurring you and I

[before 1:35]

I crave the attention
I constantly push away
I have no one to blame
But myself
How do you accept something
That you can't grasp?
It's like believing in a God
When you were grown around hate
All I have left to do
Is mourn over something
I did to myself
I'm sorry
something I plan on rapping/talking lol
rose14195 Oct 2015
I want you to ****** me
I want to retrace the claw marks i left on your back
and rediscover your body
I want you to love me
hold me close until the sunrise
waking me just to kiss me
and tell me im pretty
I want you to keep me
and never let me go
Robin Ashley Sep 2015
I had a dream the other day I ran into a doctor, lawyer and a constable,
We came to an agreement that I  had lost some part of me and that "I" am totally responsible;
Then I had another dream I ran into a doctor, cousolor and a poet,
We came to an agreement there's certain things you just don't delegate but before then I didn't know it!
So now I'm taking six weeks off and explaining  why is basically the moral of this little rhyme,
I have to find that item I lost instead of intertaining getting high and ******* all the time!
There's a lot of back stepping I must do I could have lost it anywhere,
It's a powerful asset I've always had but I lost it somewhere over this past year.
It might be right next to you or me so please look around do you see it?
This is a necessary part of me I really need so I just can't ignore or say so be it.
I must retrace my steps to lead me back to what once led me to here,
To fix that error of my past when I lost the virtue of my despair.
Now a broken bone heals in six weeks and so I think this is a realistic amount of time,
This is a personal excursion I must take because believe me I feel all of your pain combined.
I have to find my virtue the disposition to keep on doing the right thing...
Without my positive attitude the strength and prudence I have just doesn't mean a god ****** thing!
You might miss me a little bit but I plead for you to stay away,
If you don't it doesn't matter cause I'm not answering my phone, texts e-mails nor doorbells anyway.
And if you've learned anything from me you'll listen to me when I say,
Loosing virtue is like jumping off a 55 ft. bridge you'll be hurting every day!
And if like me you ever lose your virtue you'll realize this then too,
You'll go on an excursion just like me this virtue you too you will persue.
Sediment, strength, prudence and wisdom go nowhere as far as prooving who one is,
Without the moral virtue we all have that allows us to make stinky things smell like roses.
Goodbye for now I'll see you soon and for me to do this you ought,
To love yourself much and me much too and for you... to Keep a Wonderful aThought!
                              Robin Ashley
Viktoriia May 2024
wait a moment, please.
should she feel sorry for being an inconvenience?
she'd rather plant the seeds of self-love
and wait for them to turn into trees,
sheltering her from poisonous bitterness,
nurturing her inner peace,
so that she can leave this world with ease,
letting time cover her steps with green and red,
letting the branches take shape of her silhouette.
someday this path might be found by someone else,
as unaware of her worth as she once was,
all out of strength, given up on all her hopes;
she'll follow whispers and slowly retrace the steps,
and take her shelter among the fallen leaves,
nurturing her inner peace.
wait a moment, please.
should she feel sorry for being an inconvenience?
Dishes Sep 2015
dont even try to retrace your footsteps theyre lost in the footnotes,
every turn of the little hand makes the atmosphere heavier, nothing gives.
you see the problems and the solutions but you feel like youre being asked the questions everyone knows the answers too, and being expected to prove them right,
there is not a time when im alone that i feel lonely because something deep inside me gives me comfort and gyroscopic stability that came as an adaptation to seismic unrest like the left side of my chest was strewn accross the san andreas fault, there is a ghost in my room that keeps me company when my grilfriend goes away,
when the sun has left because hes late for his shanghai appointment the moon beams down on me with a smile as wide as hers when that stupid cheerleader song that is too catchy to not sing along to comes on,
the grin on her face when shes wittier than me gives me the same comfort as the phantom of my mind.
really need to work on stickin to a point this **** is getting out of hand.
Eliza Parker Mar 2015
Forward is a difficult direction to move towards.

Walking away from him is moving forward
But staying with him is moving backward
And ten steps towards the bottle is moving backward
And ten steps away from the bottle is moving forward.
So how do you know what way to point your compass when the direction you're told to go in  is completely arbitrary?

When I was younger moving forward meant success.
Getting A’s and B’s and staying out of trouble.
But as I grew up the little details that used to be irrelevant started twisting the path and what was once a straight shot is now a complicated maze of dead ends and trolls under bridges.

Moving forward was put on hold when puberty set in and the idea of body image made me obsessed with every mark and shape of my skin. When boys were no longer gross but objects of affection. When friends became more than friends and best friends was synonymous with jealousy.

Moving forward became more fuzzy when a new substance was introduced to me that made walking in a straight line more difficult than usual but when it got dark I wasn’t so scared of what lay on either side of me.

Moving forward became more interesting when you could inhale giggles and laziness or melt rainbows and dreams onto your tongue.

Moving forward was stopped completely the second time my best friend was ***** and I had to leave my path to hold her hand as she tried to move forward on her own.

Moving forward slowed once I made it back to my own road but checked behind my shoulder every few seconds because I now understood that there are really ****** people in this world.

Moving forward complicated itself when love became the ultimate distraction.
When I stopped mid journey to take the scenic route in another human being and thought I was still moving forward but actually was getting hopelessly lost.
Then he left me in the thickest part of the forest and I started to move backwards to retrace sunken steps in a ground I was too naïve to realize was muddy the first time I had walked it.

And I have to come to the realization that moving on and moving forwards  are not the same thing because my feet can place themselves one in front of the other all day long but it does not mean that my heart drags far behind in a state of helpless nostalgia that moving due north will not solve.

Soon enough distractions no longer sway me from my path.
My surroundings are a blur because everything that makes me full of light I have already passed and I am told over and over again to keep moving forward.

So I will no longer stray.

I will keep my eyes on the horizon and hope the soles of my shoes along with my spirit do not wear down before I arrive at my destination.
I have no idea of where I am going but maybe if I keep moving in the direction that is “forward” I will get there
And maybe one day arrive somewhere that makes me feel whole again.
kind of a slam poem i think. more evocative when spoken but thought i would share.
The ebbing sea had retreated when I reached the beach
She was afar though the ******* lured me to reach
I had no choice but to cross the lagoon
Half-merged in water wading in the rippled moon.
What delight it was when I was on the other side
Behind me the channel before me the silvery wide
Above me wispily spread an ethereal band
I stood on the cushion of softly sparkling sand.
I could joyfully die holding them in my eyes
More I couldn’t take more I couldn’t surmise
The agonizing beauty was an unbearable sight
There seemed nothing more to live for beyond that night.
In turning back I knew would be no rejoice
But I had to retrace I had no other choice
Afar waited faces in the waning moon’s shadow
My feet were heavy in the return tide’s flow.
Rebecca Gismondi Apr 2012
Benches are wooden or plastic or metal but they allow for a connection, a meeting place for two people who somehow become connected and intertwined and woven, like the branches of trees; they grow on each other, something blooms between them and sprouts and you believe that you cannot live without the other person, they are your sunlight and your water and that soft bird that perches on your shoulder, they see your history, the rings of your trunk, all the years you spent wishing and hoping for that one person and then:

you meet on this bench, a piece of hand-crafted wood, in a park downtown, and you talk and you laugh and you make each other smile and you sit without talking and the silence is good... but then clouds form and the silence is unbearable and you feel like you want to explode and break and smash if the silence continues so you whisper and then talk and then yell and the heat brings you closer, you retrace all of those places, you look back on the map of your connection and remember all the landmarks that you saw and lived through together and it is as if no space existed as if your hearts grew and swelled for each other and brought you back and you lie and embrace and breathe again together and it's comfortable

but then you turn, he turns back, on it all, everything, and you try and search his face, look again on that map and try to remember, you make yourself remember but he sees another path near this bench, near you but not with you, and decides to walk down it and you want him to take your hand and ask you to go but you know deep, deep down that he won't, that he can't, so you try and you say those deadly, poisonous words, those three words that change everything whether you want it to or not
and he looks at you
and he sees you

but he can't take you with him
so he gets up and lifts one foot in front of the other and
he walks away from you.
Vseslav Kochenov Oct 2016
It lasts for centuries, no less,
A tyrany of one old mage.
His reign brought nothing but distress.
Noone was worshipping that sage.

So people started to revolt,
But all the riots were suppressed.
Though all of them were quite a jolt,
The rest of rebels weren't impressed.

They tried again, and then once more,
But those attempts could not succeed.
He was a mage one could adore,
Although his reign was crap, indeed.

***

The girl just had a simple dream:
to build a rocket and to fly!
It seemed, though, there is no scheme
that worked, but all they were so nigh!

Her engines worked, and worked quite well,
Though not enough to reach the space.
But she was eager to excel
her skills. Oh, how could she retrace?

Her other builts were splendid, too.
She really had achieved a lot.
But dream of hers did not come true,
until that day she heard a shot...

***

She quickly run to find that out,
relying on her trusty gun.
And what she saw there made here shout:
A portal shining like a sun!

Without doubt she entered it
and found an old man facing her.
He yelled he'd throw her in a pit;
she didn't want that to occur.

He tried to **** her there and then,
But bullet's faster than a word.
And she made smile a lot of men,
And they prepared her a reward...

Their magic was a helpful tool
to make her aircraft fly up high.
Her dream came true. That was so cool!
At last she's mistress of the sky!
Oh! mihi præteritos referat si Jupiter annos.
    VIRGIL.

Ye scenes of my childhood, whose lov’d recollection
  Embitters the present, compar’d with the past;
Where science first dawn’d on the powers of reflection,
  And friendships were form’d, too romantic to last;

Where fancy, yet, joys to retrace the resemblance
  Of comrades, in friendship and mischief allied;
How welcome to me your ne’er fading remembrance,
  Which rests in the *****, though hope is deny’d!

Again I revisit the hills where we sported,
  The streams where we swam, and the fields where we fought;
The school where, loud warn’d by the bell, we resorted,
  To pore o’er the precepts by Pedagogues taught.

Again I behold where for hours I have ponder’d,
  As reclining, at eve, on yon tombstone I lay;
Or round the steep brow of the churchyard I wander’d,
  To catch the last gleam of the sun’s setting ray.

I once more view the room, with spectators surrounded,
  Where, as Zanga, I trod on Alonzo o’erthrown;
While, to swell my young pride, such applauses resounded,
  I fancied that Mossop himself was outshone.

Or, as Lear, I pour’d forth the deep imprecation,
  By my daughters, of kingdom and reason depriv’d;
Till, fir’d by loud plaudits and self-adulation,
  I regarded myself as a Garrick reviv’d.

Ye dreams of my boyhood, how much I regret you!
  Unfaded your memory dwells in my breast;
Though sad and deserted, I ne’er can forget you:
  Your pleasures may still be in fancy possest.

To Ida full oft may remembrance restore me,
  While Fate shall the shades of the future unroll!
Since Darkness o’ershadows the prospect before me,
  More dear is the beam of the past to my soul!

But if, through the course of the years which await me,
  Some new scene of pleasure should open to view,
I will say, while with rapture the thought shall elate me,
  “Oh! such were the days which my infancy knew.”
Sally A Bayan Oct 2017
What if,
the moon and stars appeared on sunny skies
well, i've seen God's wisdom, they're fine the
way they are, their time, their distance, their
glittering presence.....their habit of twinkling
at night, not day, is  justified, they're lovelier
more dazzling on a darker  blue sky.....i gaze
at them in awe, no words uttered...just sighs.
also, i've
seen God's wisdom about life's many  roads.
i'm fine, i have survived......earthly existence
is decked with many paths........busy, or less
traveled...always lead to new ones, after the
other, then to another......life goes on.......it's
where, it's when, the day's challenges start.
so....
i leave the house...start my daily trek in life
prioritizing familial  and  personal errands
i walk right  to the corner.....to where noisy  
turkeys turn so red, when i get  close to the
fence...to my left, the open road.....peopled
noisy...busy, humming with activities...my  
connection to the world outside the village
rain or shine, day or night, if i need to hear
breaths of life...of noise,  a tad of change in
atmosphere, cups of good coffee, a bowl of
soup and crackers, bond with good friends
bond with my  Creator  in a nearby church.
when
not too tired...i retrace my way back home.
God guides me....through long  and  faded
red unscrubbed sidewalks, grasping mossy
fences, lest i fall on slippery concrete...lest
i miss my quiet, my sacred space for good.
it's
never easy, finding God's wisdom, in pain
and suffering.......yet after each road taken
i gaze at the dark blue sky.....tell the moon
and quivering stars................"i'll  be  fine."


Sally

Copyright October 18, 2017
rrab

— The End —