Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
Lauren Fehr May 2013
it's empty in the valley of your heart {the cave - mumford & sons}
breathing in snowflakes {the a team - ed sheeran}
standing in the dark {standing in the dark - lawson}
on the corner of first and amistad {you found me - the fray}
fading out the light softly saying {shuffle - bombay bicycle club}
life's too short to even care at all {cough syrup - young the giant}
i miss our little talks {little talks - of monsters and men}
now i'm driving round on the boulevard {swim good - frank ocean}
chasing after gold mines crossing the fire lines {between the raindrops - lifehouse}
trying to erase the memory of your face {warzone - the wanted}
but on a wednesday in a cafe i watched it begin again {begin again - taylor swift}
there's nowhere we can hide {demons - imagine dragons}
i'll build you shelter out of the rain {shelter - hedley}
and i will try to fix you {fix you - coldplay}
as long as you love me {as long as you love me - justin bieber}
even if you said i was wrong {perfect - hedley}
one minute i held the key next the walls were closed on me {viva la vida - coldplay}
london calls me a stranger {the city - ed sheeran}
but my shadow days are over {shadow days - john mayer}
nothing's fine i'm torn {torn - natalie imbruglia}
you're no good for me but i want you {diet mountain dew - lana del rey}
you make me feel like i'm intoxicated {intoxicated - the cab}
off last night's whiskey and coke {cold coffee - ed sheeeran}
is there something to believe in {makes me wonder - maroon 5}
i'm lost in the heat of it all {lost - frank ocean}
say what you need to say {say - john mayer}
i'm just waiting for the moment to arrive {gold rush - edd sheeran}
like ships in the night passing me by {ships in the night - mat kearney}
mirror on the wall here we are again {mirror - lil wayne}
but i'm not afraid {not afraid - eminem}
in your eyes i have seen all the feeling and the rain {venice - the lighthouse and the whaler}
you ran away in your sleep {paradise - coldplay}
but i won't give up on us {i won't give up - jason mraz}
like the colors in autumn so bright {red - taylor swift}
i loved you first {loved you first - one direction}
the lingering question kept me up {enchanted - taylor swift}
will your mouth read this truth {little bird - ed sheeran}
i've been loving you for quite some time {stay stay stay - taylor swift}
there's things you need to hear {the heart of life - john mayer}
you don't know how lovely you are {the scientist - coldplay}
i'm in love with you and all your little things {little things - one direction}
i belong with you  {** hey - the lumineers}
you belong with me {you belong with me - taylor swift}
i'm lucky i'm in love with my best friend {lucky - jason mraz feat. colbie caillat}
i wrote this yesterday
it's a plethora of lyrics from songs off my ipod
Mateuš Conrad Jun 2022
that's the beauty of music: music will never lie to you... music can't lie to you... when Thundercat was supporting Red Hot Chilly Peppers i tried to think: please make this sound as vanguard as Miles Davis' ******* Brew... please please... nope... can't stomach this stuff... music can't lie to you... just like today... i was surrounded by people who genuinely enjoyed Ed Sheeran... me? i tried not to yawn... but i was... yawning with my mouth closed... i could only pick out two songs i really liked... SHIVERS and... before today: i wouldn't have guessed it... but Ed started explaining that his first success was more as a song-writer than a musician / entertainer... i would have never guessed that he wrote the song LOVE YOURSELF for Justin Bieber... maybe that's what was so weird... because i love the song... maybe that's why i didn't mind Justin Bieber singing it... because it was actually written by Ed... but that's it... two songs... music will never lie to you... music is the highest authenticity know to man... thank god i'm not a musician... but i was just standing there... indifferent... a fellow steward looked at me and tried to make me smile by putting his fingers into his cheeks and create a pristine imitation Joker... no... i'm not going to smile... so i stood there... buried my face in my folded hand as if to recreate an imitation of awe: pretending to smile with my eyes... music can't lie to you... it's a one man show... i'm more of a band guy... i like a lot more commotion on stage... the backwards and forwards between, say... Flea... Mr. Frusciante and Chuck... i love the idea of sharing a "burden"... music will never lie to you... that's why i'm not sitting down and trying to enjoy at least two hours of music i really like... KORTEZ... because i hate the idea of being indifferent to music...

sitting here at 2am, drinking the finest bourbon and
looking for the moon...
left the house at 9am and only got back home
after 1am:

i was so lucky getting back... caught the Metropolitan
line to Liverpool St and was sitting on
a train on platform 7 trying to understand my luck:

the 12:15am train to Southend Victoria...
    wow! it's stopping at Romford... usually these trains
only stop at Shenfield...
i usually have to slug it on a train that stops
on all the stops in between Liverpool St. and Romford:
Maryland, Forrest Gate, Manor Park,
Ilford, Seven Kings, Goodmayes... Chadwell Heath...
15 minutes later and i was eating a chicken wrap
and drinking a can of 7up... having to only wait
5 minutes for the 175 bus home...

now i need to relax after all the thrills of working
the Ed Sheeran gig...
      i need something completely different musically...
i don't regret choosing to do the London Stadium
shifts... with the Red Hot Chilly Peppers...
   hmm... Ed Sheeran live...
                  one man on a rotating stage in the middle
of the Wembley pitch...
    one man on stage...
                  you could say Pavarotti was also but a single
man on stage...

i don't know... oh sure: he was amazing...
   a sort of jack-in-a-box... but...
                        i don't think a single man can generate
the same sort of energy as a band...
it's a sort of yes and no answer... it's just so different
and it's so not so different...
                          
any diaspora of people around the world:
whether these be Somalis in England...
      Italians in England and America...
           the Hebrews pretty much everywhere...
i don't know how i managed to keep with
the cultural output from Poland...
           but there's a very decent alternative to someone
like Ed Sheeren: after all... he can be exported
to places like Poland... France...
     English universalism...
                       which is very real...
  
but? someone like KORTEZ? he couldn't be exported
out of Poland and become popular in England:
as much as there is an English universalism:
all other cultures are particular: there's a particularism
about them...
    i'm guessing of the language:
                        the Lingua Franca of the medieval
times Lingua Inglese of the modern times...

but songs by KORTEZ like: Z IMBIREM (with ginger)
   LUDZIE Z LODU (people from ice)...
BUMERANG (boomerang)...
HEJ WY (hey you)...
                              KOMINY (chimneys)...
                  
and all these songs live...

to be honest: the lyricism of the former is something for
teenager girls... maybe that's why i was sort of put off...
i need smart lyrics as i need good music:
but lyricism in English will hardly convey complexity
that a man could appreciate:
beside Peter Sinfield...

well... i might be living in Poland but i'm still
trying to keep up with the culture...
       because the politics doesn't interest me as much:
i know pretty much that there's an aspect of
a Japanese isolationism...
                     although: like the Mandarin Wall
of ideograms... the accurate phonetic-cutting
                          of words in ****** or the English
joke: too many consonants...

ha... szczerość... honestly...
                 Щero-
                       fair enough... i could almost create
a letter out of -ść since enough words end with these
two letters... like plenty begin with SZCZ (SHCH): Щ...
              
well... i'm not going to invest the equivalent Cyrillic:
impasse...

what made the shift a bit easier was having spent
most of it: up to 9pm talking and joking with a Somali...
women, life, drugs, work...
      work, drug, life, women...
ideas such as: i couldn't a Somali woman living
in England... that's why i married a traditional woman
in Somalia... she's living there with my two daughters...
Somali men who marry Somali women living
in the West: 5 years! 7! they're divorced...
because the women want to go out and party...
he's thinking about bringing her over...
       i think he's waiting for the 7 year itch to be
perfectly established...
******* Somali pirate... but i have to admit...
Somalis have the most infectious smiles...
the whole lot of them...
     a Muslim who used to drink and do drugs in
his youth and went off them after finding
his religion...
                again: even i'm tempted by the Shahadah...
but i'm a Qabbalistic mongrel of sorts...
when he was talking about Somalia being split
into three... hmm... that's interesting...
the English part, the French part and the Italian part...
post-colonial politics...
    but even he was saying things like:
but i hate the Somalis that collaborated...
    the Europeans came offered money and there
were some willing Somalis to sell their neighbours...

minerals... i allowed this conversation up to a point
before i revealed to him:
listen... i'm of a people that don't have a colonial past...
we didn't exist for well over 200 years...
we were carved up by the Russians, the Prussians
and the Austro-Hungarians...
        
i thought you were English?!
            yeah... i thought so too...
i'm neu-Englisch...
                        and when the Somali girls working in
the kiosk noticed me getting along with the Somali...
i managed to brag my way into getting a free
hot-dog...
   while the Somali... caged in the turnstiles
asked me to keep a look out for any supervisors while
he smoked a cigarette...  
    **** me... it's truly advantageous not being English
in London: but at the same time
having people think you are...

in the end we only had a few issues...
unlike a football event: when even vaping is forbidden
we were being kept being asked whether
people could leave the venue to smoke and be
readmitted... we kept tell them:
wink wink... nudge nudge...
   when enough people come... and the stewards
can't see you... ahem... ahem...
most people got the idea...

but some of the women didn't...
   no one checks the toilets... wink wink.... nudge nudge...
until i started talking to this:
she made it adamant that she was a law postgraduate...
good that i didn't tell her that i was a chemistry
postgraduate...
                 impress me: yawn...
we were disputing whether to be a law-breaker...
listen: i'm not telling you can smoke...
i'm just telling you that no one checks the toilets...

but this one scared me and Ishmael... the Somali...
she asked to be let out...
she was told no... but then i initiated the finger
on the lips as if to imply: shh... i'm going you in on a little
secret... she was genuinely offended
that i used this cue... DON'T HUSH ME!
i'm not hushing you...
        all ******* glassy-wild eyed...
defensive & neurotic...
              white... blonde... kept in a cage for the past
three years... i was surprised she wasn't
wearing a face mask...
                  
i don't want to break the law!
you want me to break the law?!
who do you work for?! the event or the stadium?!
oh ****... ladies and gentlemen! we have a sinker!

you're asking me to let you out to smoke:
i'm telling you i can but i can't let you back in...
but... i'm also telling you
that this is not a football event...
the rules are relaxed...
                     she gave me a proper fright...
i thought she was going to grass me and Ishmael up...
luckily she ****** off...

these two other bubbly girls approached us...
this was the first time i was told i looked ****
outside of a brothel...
we let them out... one "medical" grounds...
but we served them up a plan A (medical grounds
reasons, to have a smoke)
or plan B... crowd-build up... no one checks the toilets...

then this one guy with crowd anxiety...
agoraphobia+,
                       charged me with tears in his eyes...
Wembley policy is that not all disabilities are visible...
i had to let him out... he did return...
i have to explain to my supervisor that
the guy had psychological demons haunting him...
you can't just tell me that i can't let him back
in when he's obviously distressed...
thankfully that went down as a treat...

i'm starting to realise that people are dim when it
come to someone insinuating that: rules
can be broken... i know that a high-viz. jacket is no
symbol of the sort of authority associated with
a police uniform... but we were telling people:
it's the concert season... you're not football hooligans...
it's a music concert...
it's not a football match... there are no two opposing sides...
with that comes some leniency...
you want to enjoy it? or you want to make our
lives more difficult?!

wink wink: nudge nudge...
  
oh man... listening to KORTEZ right now...
what a welcome relief from the ordeal of being indifferent
to Ed Sheeran...
i have this co-worker who's dreading working
the London Stadium when Chelsea will play West Ham...
i was the same today...
being indifferent to Ed Sheeran being surrounded
by Ed Sheeran fans is sort of a ******...
i can't fake smiles... i rather hide my mouth in my hand
and look pensively lost in "admiration"
and pretend to smile with my eyes
than fake a smile...

      music will never lie to you...
                      i didn't hate it... but i didn't love it either...
there's nothing worse than apathy:
i've been told...
but then there's a play on words:
apathy breeds no pathologies...
   since? it's a pathology in itself... funny how that works...
it's almost 4am and i think...
thank god i'm not working tomorrow...
i'll get at painting the garden fence...
i'll vacuum the house... i'll go on a bicycle ride...
i'll stack up on *****...
    i'll make my father lunch... then i'll think about
making dinner...
    
hell... what a summer: what a summer without
a girlfriend...
Weezer, Fall Out Boy, Green Day...
Red Hot Chilli Peppers... Ed Sheeran...
    Walter Sickert...
oh right... ha ha... an hour into the event and this
guy walks up to me...
LET ME OUT! LET ME OUT!
what's the problem?!
       i'm leaving! i'm leaving!
   why?!
              my wife is being a complete *****!
she's being an idiot!
i'm leaving... i'm going home...
   you do know that when you leave...
i can't... yes yes... I'M LEAVING!
   wow!              

thank god i didn't invest myself in the culture
of free ***... of hook-up culture...
thank god i went down the route: money on the table...
i can't imagine anything good being for free...
nothing good ever is...
   i would never invest myself in the hook up culture...
if it was ever going to be casual ***...
i'd need the sultry / shady avenues of nights
in a brothel...
         no...

oh... ****! i almost forgot!
while we were waiting for our shift to begin...
i spotted these four guys in the distance
playing cards...
i walked up and asked: so... what are you guys playing?!
blackjack... ooh...
can i join in?
sure thing bro...
        oh man... i almost cried... memories flooded in...
i remember sixth form... lunch breaks...
that's all we ever did... played blackjack...
reminiscent of Ernest Hemmingway's novella
Men without Women... men playing cards...
i forgot some of the basic rules
but i watched one round before joining in
and it was: yachts... wind and yachts...
and smooth sailing...
    i missed playing cards with guys so much...
the banter and the teasing...
the manly stuff of men... men without women...
******* utopia...
an eternity spent playing cards with guys...
women complicate matter...
they have this knack of isolating men
and turning men against men
because: in the end... it's women against women...
take women out of the equation
and when men come together...
they're playing cards and drinking beer together...

it's such a fun game...
much better than poker...
what are the rules? ha ha...
2s: pick up 2...
blackjacks: pick up 5...
red jacks neutralize...
kings reverse order of play
8 skip a go...
queens are slags...
aces change from either ***** to diamond...
and you can't finish on a power card...

i love this game! i was a teenager for a while
again!
oh man... i've written so many pointless details from today...
MUSIC DOESN'T LIE TO YOU... blah blah etc...
the highpoint was this ******* card-game!
maybe that's why i never became a gamer...
why i stopped on PS1... final fantasy VII,
metal gear solid...
         some beers, cards: ***** 'n' giggles...
parallel words...
    a man has... when it comes to his fellow men
and individually: with women...
playing cards or... going shoe-shopping with her?
playing cards... every single time...
even if it means not fathering a child
and not ******* on a regular basis;
   i like to keep my mind in order...

even the Somali said: you look young for a 36 year old...
even with the beard...
and we joked: you know why?
i don't have a woman... and that massive crescent
moon of a Somali smile conjured itself on his face...
yeah... we're relatable... laughter and the day
passed with a peace that might have made
angels jealous, if not the gods themselves;

**** me... even i sometimes find myself profound...
in a recent comment i wrote
about someone's concern for mortality
and enligthment:

deus in machina in perfect ratio to **** ex machina,
my frailty... against the infallibility
of trains or architecture...
the god inside the machinery...
compensated with the man outside of machinery...
and this backwards and forwards:
deus ex machina and **** in machina...
deus ex machina being the genius-ingenuity
of man... while **** ex machina being his...
stupendous dumbness when obliterated
by the artifacts of his fellow creature...
that's **** ex machina:
          the labourer is not the architect...
the nurse is not the heart surgeon...
              
               there's such a perfect harmony
to sharing toils... responsibilities...
just as long as the libido is managed and we
don't over-**** to create pointless middle-management
roles for people with little-****** complexes of
authority investment... we should be good...
but that's truly dependent on orientating ourselves
around what best way to fulfill our libido:
not careless *******...
    more people requires more jobs...
and that also demands scrutiny on a lack
of metallurgy in Europe...
                     etc.

             me and my new found Somali friend agreed:
neither of us could understand Western atheism...
i'm a Qabbalistic mongrel looking for a second schism
in Islam spearheaded by the Turks...
i'm not getting on my knees...
in a church... to give a ******* to a demigod...
after all... even Achilles could be equated on equal
footing... but he fought his way toward the zenith...
this pacifying of man with the suffering of but one
with shady dealings: arguments of "innocence"...
of course i'm inclined to the simplicity of Islam...
but also inclined to the complexity of Judaism...

but if i argue my case for blood in beef...
but if i argue my case for pork...
but if i argue my case for alcohol among these
two tribes...
blood in beef is healthy: iron...
pork? why be critical of god's creation?
you tend to sheep in deserts...
but when you're going to tame the boars...
you can eat everything from a pig...
alcohol? keeps you warm in cold climates...
but if i can have Somalis who drank and did drugs
on board... who found religion
after getting married and having children...

Christianity is a polytheism by this point:
due to its poly-schism...
i can't be a Christian... i toy with the idea
that i'm the reincarnation of Konrad von Wallenrode...
i can't defend what's already rotten...
mind you: i find the idea of reincarnation
repulsive... i.e. there's only a fixed number of souls /
individuals... that pass through zombie bodies...
that's... harsh... elitist...

thank god i can't go back to the gynocentric Christianity...
just read some Jung on the whole myth of
Jesus returning and ******* his mother
in the bridal chamber of the "uncircumcised"...
complications that don't require complications...
no... i wouldn't circumcise anyone...

best me: that last "leftover".
train- May 2015
ed,
i "don't" know what me and my
"little bird" would do without you cause'
"uni" "take it back" to
"grade 8"as you
" kiss me" under the light of "all of the stars" cause'
"i see fire" when we both collide
and this "lego house" we had built for
me you and this "small bump"
so please don't "runaway"
but if you do i understand cause'
"even my dad does sometimes"
but don't fly away forever like a
"firefly" cause in the mornin' we'll sip some
"cold coffee" or we can get "drunk"
and you could "give me love"
but you'd have to "wake me up"
cause after all i am on "the a team"
watching as "one" of the "autumn leaves"
fall slowly down
and i realize that "im a mess"
so please don't "runaway"
we could take a "photograph" with
"the man" and "Nina"
or we could look at the "tenerife sea" while
we acknowledge our "afire love" and then i will
pull up my "shirtsleeves" and you can
feel my "bloodstream"
and maybe we could "sing"

what? i guess this whole time i was "thinking out loud"
Ed Sheeran is my inspiration, I really have to say he is my all time favorite musician. Thanks to Ed for helping me through 7 years of my life ♥
Cathyy Oct 2015
I hope I live to see Ed Sheeran, and Taylor swift live, and spend new years in New York
I hope I make the perfect coffee for my future love and maybe even raise a puppy.
I hope my writing actually gets somewhere,
Than just spilled on a random page,
Of a giant internet database
I hope my little quotes and lyrics
Are sketched into teenage journals
I hope I meet my biggest supporter someday, and hang out with them in Disneyland.
I hope everything stops being crazy,
And everything starts becoming clearer
I hope everyday I am alive, I make positive impact.

I hope, I hope
That the Universe notices,
All the times I nearly broke..
Were all the times,
I began to grow.
So i wrote three really deep poems during the age of 17,

The child
The dreamer
The giver

... I feel this isn't really a poem, but a monologue. However, i hope* ;)
... It touches someone.

Please check me out on Youtube,
Just type in "JournalofMusic" and i'm there with like 14/15 videos now... If you help me out with views and stuff i'll always have a reason to keep on writing. :) x

Love ,
Cathy
amt Mar 2013
Whenever it was painful,
Whenever I was away,
I'd miss you,
And I miss you.
Lyrics from Sunburn by the ever amazing Ed Sheeran
amt Dec 2012
Do you ever wonder if the stars shine out for you?
Float down
Like autumn leaves
Hush now
Close your eyes before the sleep
And you're miles away
And yesterday you were here with me

Another tear
Another cry
Another place for us to die
It's not complicated
Autumn Leaves by Ed Sheeran. Such a beautiful song, thought I'd share the lyrics.
ashley Apr 2013
Description: Sam's not at all who people think he is. He might be quiet, he might be shy, but he also was diagnosed with cancer. When Briar moves to town, she catches Sam's eye. What will happen once the two get closer? Will Briar light a spark in Sam's heart?

-

Distant Memory

Dedicated to my cousin, Blake, who is currently fighting a horrific battle of Lymphoma.



You're probably thinking this is just some clichè love story, one about a girl having a crush on her best friend's brother, or how two people fall madly in love, but it's anything but. This is my story, with a twist unlike any other.

~

It all started in our Junior year of high school. You were new to Wakefield High, just moving here the previous year from New York City. On the first day of school, you were so unsure of yourself, not knowing what to do or where to go. I watched as you made your way through the halls, nudging your way through the crowded bodies as students made their way to class. Even though the halls were tremendously over-crowded, you were easy to spot. Your blonde hair and strikingly blue eyes stood out by the school's bland beige walls. You were more radiant, more powerful and glowing, than anything or anyone in the whole school.

Eventually, you made friends in all the clubs you'd joined - culinary club, photography club, and ASL. I don't know what made you stand out from all the other girls at Wakefield High, but whatever it was, it was strong. I felt drawn to you, like we shared a connection deeper than either of us knew. And it was then when I made it my goal to get to know you.

For the first few weeks, I'd tried bulking up the courage to speak to you. I had planned it all out in my mind. I would talk to you at lunch, right as you gathered your food and headed off to the library like you do every day. That was my chance, and I was determined to stick with it.

On that day, I was behind you in the lunch line. Once you got up there, you ordered a chicken empanada, then headed off to the library in the West wing. I quickly grabbed my lunch, a light Cesar salad, and trailed behind you.

You were walking faster than expected, and I was just too weak. I stopped, holding my knees as I gasped for breath. That was my chance to talk to you, to finally hear your beautiful voice, and I blew it.

It wasn't because of what you think. I couldn't keep up because I was lazy or out of shape, because I was neither of those.

I was diagnosed with Leukemia last October, and after tons of treatment, my doctor said I could try going back to school. I decided it would probably be best for me to live a normal life - as much as normal can get for a boy with cancer. Knowing that I was going to die soon - my doctor predicted I would only last for another year, tops - made me want to get to know you more.

After many wasted days of trying - but failing - to get your attention, I gave up. You were too wrapped up in your new life to even acknowledge my existence. Too busy maintaining your new found reputation, too busy dating a new guy every week. I always thought you were a ***** because of it, that you took advantage of different guys and then left them to crumble to pieces, but all of that changed on that faithful day.

I had gotten dropped off late to school because I had to get tests run at the hospital that morning. I tried to get to class on time, running as fast as I could. Only that didn't work because before you knew it, I was out of breath once again.

I headed over to the restroom, hoping a cool splash of water on my face would do the trick, when I heard wailing in the girls bathroom. I looked over my shoulder before entering, just to be safe. As I closed the door, I locked it behind me.

You were leaning against the wall, knees drawn to your chest as you cried. Noticing a presence, you looked up at me, thick black mascara running down your rosy cheeks. Your eyes were puffy, and I could tell you'd been crying for quite a while.

I didn't know what to say or do at that point, so I did what my heart told me I should do. I held you.

I sat next to you and wrapped my arms around you. Your body seemed small and weak, heaving in my arms. You cradled your head into my neck as tears fell from your bright blue eyes. I didn't bother asking what was wrong. Figured I would at a better time.

Just then, you looked up at me, face flushed and blotchy, and grabbed my hand. It seemed to fit perfectly within yours, our frail fingers intertwined in each others.

I tucked a few of your light blonde strands behind your ears as your cries dwindled. Even after you'd finished crying, you sat with me.

"What's your name?" Your eyes shone with curiosity.

"Sam."

"I'm Briar."

Briar. What a beautiful name. I smiled in your tangled hair. I never in a million years thought I would ever talk to you, and even if I had, I never would have expected it to be quite like this.

"You like Ed Sheeran too?" You asked, your eyes widening in delight as you scanned my shirt. I watched a smile creep to your face, lighting up your gorgeous eyes.

"Yeah, he's my favorite singer," I smile shyly. I can feel the heat rushing to my cheeks, and I feel embarrassed for acting this way.

Ever since then, we began talking. The more we talked, the more I knew how wrong I was about you. You weren't a ***** at all; all the guys you've dated broke up with you, but blamed it on you every time. That's how you got the title as biggest ***** of the school. I felt bad because you were one of the sweetest people I'd ever met, portraying someone you weren't.

I felt like that Ed Sheeran shirt brought me luck. It was the start to our budding friendship.

After a while, you completely changed. You stopped hanging out with the populars, claiming they were never into you anyway. And I found you enjoyed yourself more. I ended up joining the photography club later that year. Whenever we would go out on weekends, I was always taking pictures of you, catching the memories within a moment of time.

You always loved my pictures. As we sat in my bedroom, I'd let you pick out your favorites for you to keep, writing little notes on the back of each picture. Your absolute favorite one was that one of the two of us.

We were in a huge field, smiling as I held you in my arms wedding style. Your blonde hair flew around in all different directions and your eyes held happiness and joy. That was my favorite one too.

I had always had feelings for you, ever since that day in the bathroom, but I'd never have the chance to show you how I really feel. Even if I did, why would you love me back? I have no hair anymore since going through chemotherapy. My body's frail and weak, barely able to stand up on my own.

I had went to the doctors two days ago for more tests, and the doctor found that the tumor in my brain was growing more and more rapidly by the second. Therefore, I would be dying sooner than expected. I only had four days left. My mother held me in her arms as she cried, her wet tears staning my t-shirt.

That night, I called you and told you the news. You cried into the phone, and I wish I was there to hold you, tell you that everything would be okay, that I would be better soon. It was a lie, but I didn't want to hear you sad. I felt bad for being the cause of it.

The next day, I was rushed to the hospital after my mother found my collapsed in my room.

It was then I knew my life was coming to a close. I grabbed a pen and piece of paper, and wrote you a letter.

~

Dear Briar,

If you're reading this, I'm probably gone by now. I just woke up to the dimly lit lights flooding into my room, tubes and needles inside of me. My heart monitor is beeping weakly next to me, and I feel very frail. Cold, frail, and in tremendous pain. You're alseep on the couch right next to my bed and I watch you, take in your beauty for the last time. Your blonde hair is flowing around your head like a halo, your lips look like delicate red rosebuds. Even though I am weak, getting skinnier by the second, I make my way over to your side, kissing you lightly on the forehead.

I never told you about my cancer, and I'm sorry for that. I'm sorry for causing you the pain of me leaving you. I never meant for it to be this way. All I wanted was to live a normal life, and you showed me that there's happiness even in the smallest of places.

When you miss me, look at the pictures of us, pinned to a board on your bedrooom wall. Remember the memories we've had together. Remember the way you always made me smile, the dozens of laughs you filled me with. You showed me how to enjoy life, Briar. And I could never ask for anything more.

You filled my gloomy days with so much laughter I could barely contain myself. Remember me like that, Briar. Remember me happy.

I never realized it before, but I've fallen in love with you; your glowing smile, eyes the color of the raging ocean. I'd never known what love felt like, but I found it with you.

I love you so much, Briar. Never forget that. And remember I'll always be with you.

Love forever and always,

Sam

~

Briar's POV

I woke up to Sam's heart monitor, constantly beeping.Looking at the monitor, I noticed his breaths were slowing.

I made my way over to his bedside, rubbing my thumb gently across his cheek. His eyes were closed as his chest rose every so often.

"If only you knew how much I love you, Sam," I whispered, a single tear falling from my eyes. I watched him smile as he dwindled away.

"Sam? Sam?" My eyes filled with panic as I shook him lightly. "Sam?" My voice rose as I looked at the monitor, seeing the thin red line.

"Help! Somebody help!" I cried. As soon as those words escaped my lips, his hospital room flooded with doctors and nurses. They surrounded him, pushing me away to see what had happened. But they didn't need to. I already knew.

A doctor with black curly hair came rushing over to me. "I'm sorry, but he's gone.."

He's gone... He's gone... He's gone...

Those words rung in my ears, filling my head. I ran over to your bedside, crying my eyes out and practically screaming your name, hoping you'd come back to me.

I lay my head on your unmoving chest, letting my tears soak into your shirt. I noticed a small white envelope on the table next to you, To my sweet love, Briar, was written on it in your handwriting. I stuck it in the back pocket of my jeans before heading out of the hospital, feeling numb and empty.

I reread the letter over and over, tears staining the white lined paper.

"I love you, Sammy," I said, looking up at the bright blue sky. Even though the world seemed empty without you, I know I had to be strong. For you.

On days where I feel I can't bear your absence, I look at the pictures you took, just like you'd asked. I never knew you would change my life in such a drastic way.
A short story I wrote on Wattpad; not that it's any good, but yeah.
Long legs, black hair
Her eyes are blue, her skins fair
I can't help
But stare

Her face, divine
I feel her lips against mine,
Heart beat, flat line

And they say, she's classier than champagne,
Know I can't complain,
I'm addicted, like *******
On a cloudy Monday
Cause she said that she'd stay,
You know the best things in life come free to us,
Cause she,
moves underneath my hand,
Sweet and soft, like a pretty lamb
And she don't wanna go outside, tonight,
And I kiss her, because I can
She won't love any other man,
It's too cold outside,
for angels to fly
Angels to fly

stay in, wear sweats
Worries gone, there's no debts
Curl up, in bed

She talks, I don't
I try too, but the words won't
Come out, a sad note


And they say, she's classier than champagne,
Know I can't complain,
I'm addicted, like *******
On a cloudy Monday
Cause she said that she'd stay,
You know the best things in life come free to us,
Cause she,
moves underneath my hand,
Sweet and soft, like a pretty lamb
And she don't wanna go outside, tonight,
And I kiss her, because I can
She won't love any other man,
It's too cold outside,
for angels to fly
Angels to fly

She'll lay here tonight,
Closing her eyes,
Looking towards a happy life
She won't fade out tonight,
She'll wake up to light

And they say, she's classier than champagne,
Know I can't complain,
I'm addicted, like *******
On a cloudy Monday
Cause she said that she'd stay,
You know the best things in life come free to me,
Cause she,
moves underneath my hand,
Sweet and soft, like a pretty lamb
And she don't wanna go outside, tonight,
And I kiss her, because I can
She won't love any other man,
It's too cold outside,
for angels to fly
Angels to fly
so I wrote a thing. #remix #love #yes #beauty
Lauren Fehr May 2013
vintage polaroids
mountain air
girl scout cookies
summer hair
ed sheeran lyrics
mint lemonade
blowing bubbles
christmas parade
harry potter
winter park crew
biscoff spread
morning dew
british accents
plaid shirts
old castles
chocolate desserts
breakfast for dinner
big bang theory quotes
shakespearean language
cape cod sailboats
sweet nostalgia
the smell of books
longing wanderlust
forest nook
80s movies
neon lights
time with friends
caramel delights
the great gatsby
walk the moon
old typewriters
plumerias bloom
bombay bicycle club
chinese cuisine
abstract art
seafoam green
vineyard vines
life of pi
scuba diving
monarch butterfly
just some little things that i like
purpledandelion Jul 2019
I hope you don’t call me a Drunk when I said,
You look so wonderful in your dress with hair falling to the side of your neck,
down your shoulders and back.
We’ll need to navigate the Tenerife Sea to dance in the streets of Barcelona
Si, te  adoro, senorita
Said “ChenChen, I wanna dance”
with my pretty little Kajang Girl
You’re my pretty Kajang girl.

Just another night, staring at the moon, wishing upon All of the Stars that some day I can invite you to watch the sunset over the Castle on the hill
Over the Castle on the hill
from Magyar Hungary to the shores of Slavic Croatia.
There is no waiting too long for ChenChen,
Maybe I played my cards wrong,
I apologize for it.
I just wanna Dive into the waves of missing you,
though they are more like tsunami tides now.

Those silly scholars of U.N.I versiti Sains Malaysia,
dumb beyond help for not offering you a seat to read economics in their halls.
Those silly fools Don’t know but I do, ChenChen definitely belong to Class A Team,
they might as well quit and go run a Lego House.
Gonna write them an insulting email as when they cross you,
they Cross Me

I am Thinking Out Loud now,
for the night skies to
Make it rain
make it rain low
so that you can sleep comfy and sleep tight.
You’ll need all the good rest to resume your battles t’morrow.
As you enlighten Nat -I See Fire, blood in the breeze.
Watch the blood pressure climb high, as you maneuver all the little chat windows like a Watchtower guardian.

Just wanna remind you to stay healthy and fit,
coz I miss the Shape of You
running the treadmill and the Russian twists.
Great practice missing you,
coz you’ll be gone by December snow,
I will wait for you to come back home.
Thank Goddess for technology to keep your Photograph
inside the GB of my iPhone “ x
ChenChen, always remember to replenish your Touch and Go card and be assured that my budget for you is un Divide ed.
I can’t give you anymore “ + “ because whether with heels or barefoot on the grass,
ChenChen you look Perfect tonight and every night...
city of flips Aug 2018
men and their egos (I turned twenty this summer) are
inseparable
insufferable

begrudgingly
they admit “guess you were right”
believing that will make them heroes,
by full on confessing they are *******

I turned twenty in the summer

my tan legs in cutoffs (it’s summer) drives them to madness,
accused, you are pitiless, for their dreams of you involve ransom  
still, you
search and quiet plead like Abraham, to the heated air,
while listening to Whitney Houston and Ed Sheeran,
(on your earbuds just so nobody knows your weakness)
for just that one good man in the township of
***** and Gomorrah

my mother bitter sneers good luck with that,
forgetting I am now twenty years
so old, so advanced,
that my hopes and aspirations are no longer those
the ones in my high school yearbook

my poetry fills pages,
a human urban renewal,
laying out a city of hope

recalling that ***** and Gemorrah were destroyed
Neil Harbee Sep 2017
I used to be Bruno Mars, you can COUNT ON ME
I used to be Ed Sheeran who'll be there 'til we're 70
I was Avril Lavigne who said I LOVE YOU
But not All Time Low, I ain't MISSING YOU

I'm Against the Current, burning a little BRIGHTER
Like Bleachers, I WANNA GET BETTER
Like Big Time Rush, I'm HALFWAY THERE
Like Taylor Swift, WE ARE NEVER EVER GETTING BACK TOGETHER
Kinda rushed. I just made this on midnight because I can't sleep.
Rob Redido Jun 2017
She was carefully crafted to be fragile but choose to be a diamond over a coal.
Her skin reminds me of bed where I can be both vulnerable and secured.
A place to rest my head.

She may not know it but to me
her hair smelled like home on a summer night.
Her hands were so small yet when she holds mine,
she holds my whole world along with it.

She loves cats, vintage cameras, Ed Sheeran, the beach
road trips, the rural life, Harry Potter, of course she's a potterhead
These are the things that bring color to her.
Then fireflies emerge from their slumber to gather around her.

If I were to paint just her eyes I'd get a night sky
And in it lies her vast number of quirks in which,
more often than not
I find myself lost.
Her voice echo with melodies beyond what I could comprehend
But this is love, not logic.
I believe I was not meant to understand her.
I believe I was meant to love her.
Tania Crocker Jul 2015
Settle down with me,
Cover me up,
Cuddle me in,
Lie down with me,
Hold me in your arms.
Mateuš Conrad Jul 2022
another Ed Sheeran gig and i'm more certain than ever
that i'm not a fan...
   more than ever i try to look for grown-up music,
after watching the clientele who came i am more certain
of it than anything...
               women mostly listen to him...
we had to change the toilets around to accommodate
an 80:20 ratio of women to men...
                 to ease up on the queuing...
    
i got home with aching feet but with my head in the clouds...
put on some more KORTEZ... this time
starting the night session with the song Boję Się
(i'm afraid) - sure... Ed Sheeran might be a guitar maestro...
but it's unlike he can also play the trombone...
or for that matter does...
                               if Damian Rice was his idol it's
not surprising that the music is what it is...

and no... you don't need an old school rock band
guitar solo... a change of rhythm coming from the bass
guitar... which then dictates what the drums will do...
and whether the guitar can be replaced with...
a trombone and or a trumpet...
              
                         mind you: at least the Red Hot Chilli
Peppers played two days in the row...
but had completely two different set-lists...
                        and every song was a like a memory
from my teenage years...
                   maybe because Ed Sheeran is a peer...
i can't relate...

    but... i didn't have time to think...
first time i saw him i was a petty exit steward...
today i was a supervisor with 16 stewards underneath
me...
       i guess my grandfather taught me well:
about how to work with people how to deal with them...
while fellow two supervisors complained...
moaned... threatened the stewards with sending them home...
over-use of mobile phones... wandering about...
sure... i had one failure... a breaker who did breaks for
about 5 people... then ended up disappearing on hours
on end...
    in the end i wasn't going to ran after him:
i didn't even reprimand him...
                    i just told the other stewards that we're
working with this lazy *** who keeps ******* off...
useless... a collective shaming tactic...
    it worked... since in the end the other guys and gals
worked out a system of breaking each other...

under me these two girls who some other supervisor
warned me against: how they would wander off,
this that and the other... how she was forced to send them
home: even this other supervisor said:
i don't want to work with her... she ends up sending half
her staff home...
  that's the thing... some people are but a little authority
and they go ego-tripping... on authority...
it's like that quote is actually true: power corrupts...
absolutely power corrupts absolutely:
they were once in the same position these poor souls
are in now... it's like the inverted power dynamic
doesn't trickle into their thick skulls...

then again women are mean to other women:
in general...

these two supposedly "troublesome" girls?! perfect angels...
i talked with one before the shift...
listen: work with me... keep me informed...
if there's any problems let me know...
   the other was creating problems early on...
two toilet breaks... one break in general... and this other
woman from another company started to bother her:
telling her what to do, so she retorted with:
but you're not my supervisor...

   something had to be done... girl, do you want to move
from this nagging *****? yeah... please...
swapped her with another girl...
  she ended up sharing a vomitory with a pristine example
of a steward... some hours later i had management
come up to me and tell me: these two stewards
are doing an amazing job... well then...

good call on my behalf... please: leniency...
don't just bring the stick... bring a carrot...
    there's no power dynamic: or at least let's pretend
there isn't one... no hierarchy...
i had no issues with people looking at their phones...
absolutely none... i never once heard my code
name mentioned on the radio... my ear-piece was
completely deaf...

              just before Ed Sheeran was about to come on
i walked up to a kiosk selling burgers
while getting a coffee for one of my stewards
and asked: so... tell me... what happens to all the leftover
burgers?
they get thrown out...
                   really? seems like such a waste...
do you think my stewards could have them?
yup yup...
     off i went and asked all my stewards whether
they could eat beef...
   two Muslims stewards said they'd rather go
hungry than eat meat they didn't know was Halal or
not... but would love some chips...

and? i managed to feed all my stewards for free...
happy customers... they stayed in position...
complied with everything i was insinuating...
showed genuine interests in customers...
obviously what helped was that i was always visible
to them... roaming docks 102 through to 107...
chatting with them... not really stomping over them...

the other supervisors? you think they fed their
underlings?! i hardly think so... i hardly think so if they
kept complaining about their attitude...

at the end of the shift one of these "bothersome" girls
came up to me and said: thank you...
it was an immense pleasure working with you....
well... i did give her what she wanted and from time to time
checked up on her asking her if she was happy...
thumbs up came the reply...

i must have learned my people skills from my grandfather...
he taught me: be humbler than whatever
humble job there is...
                         there's no need to over-stretch authority...
there really isn't...
people don't learn to comply by force...
by constant nagging... not if they're teenagers
and this is something of a side-gig for them:
or their first job...
                            ****'s sake... i've only been doing
this "job" from December of last year
and i'm already supervising: even though i don't have
any qualifications to do so...

maybe that's why i wasn't paying much attention
to the Ed Sheeran gig... seen him once... second time wasn't
as spectacular... while... the Chillies were probably more
spectacular the second day than the first:
even if they didn't play all their popular songs...
Scar Tissue... Under the Bridge...

hmm... am i writing about work, or am i writing
about interacting with people? i think the latter...
i'm writing about... how people interact with me after i hear
about how they interact with others
and how others are always wrong about what i find
in my stead...

i must conjure a term for all of this:
perhaps i just look the part and people don't have a problem
with associating with some "higher" authority...
i do remember not being a poet
at the briefing... i stood up before the whole lot of them
and told them that i wouldn't be speaking
about all the nitty-gritty *******...
my bossy colleague would...
i just stared into the distance and then sometimes
at them... raising my voice on certain points...
stressed-stern...

    masculine-bias... no no... that's not the term i was going
to use... masculine-leniency... that's the one...
i did have rules that were to be unbroken
on an unspoken level of communication...
i just implored: work with me, work with me:
and i'll work with you...

after all... this is almost like target practice...
i'm trying to get skills should i eventually do settle
on the path toward becoming a high school teacher...
i'm orientating myself...
speaking to a bunch of people is going to be my
greatest "defeat" before i conquer this "fear"...
having authority...
it's one of those nights where no amounts of
raw cookie dough or
ed sheeran or
fuzzy blankets
can block you from entering my mind
Cathyy Dec 2015
Don't press pause on real life..
Cause in just a blink of an eye..
Everything changes,
In front of you.
It's so wonderful.

And don't spend your days angry
Just spend a moment sulking :')
Cause every-thing right now is temporary..
..I'll too, just be a memory.

So won't you live a little,
And remember me?
Bump into me 5 years later,
With a different hair colour;
Oh go out there, and live your dream
Send me messages now and then,
And i'll get a pen and some paper
Oh won't you live life, cause there will never be another..
At least not one like this,
Oh you are beautiful I must,
Admit.

Clocks are turning,
Earth spins..
My mind wakes up to the thought
Of "are you okay?"
.. Almost everyday.

But next year I'll care for me too
I'm 18, hey, lets get a tattoo-
Of an Ed Sheeran song..
That'll be a memorable one,
For sure.

Oh won't you promise,
To stay so strong?
I know that sounds patronising
But in the poems i've been writing,
I've found strength in this place here between my lungs;
Yeah these words from the heart;
I hope they light up the dark,
For you
I promise I'll never fade.
I'll still be annoying as hell
And maybe sappy as well
And will I ever move on?
Only time can tell.
But for now darling just live
Oh everyday is beautiful,
I must admit.
Proudest achievement of my year is possibly this poem actually.

Hope you like it.
Keep your eyes out on Sunday for new stuff.. X
If this is to end in fire, then we should all burn together.
- ed sheeran

Sometimes I wonder if
our love is real. If this
were to be real, I shouldn’t have to worry. Is
there more to
this bittersweet feeling? It’s bound to end,
isn’t it? The thoughts in
my head haunt me, light my body on fire,
and watch me suffer. Then
wonders why I cry. We
should have seen this coming, should-
n’t we? All
the pain we caused each other? We’re better to just burn
away, then to be together.
Another golden shovel poem
heather leather Dec 2014
the memory of his smile in the summer when we were sad but happy, broken yet whole, and somewhat okay
2. the smell of coffee in the Barnes and Nobles on 42nd street
3. The Catcher In The Rye
4. hazel eyes that torment me but still make me smile
5. Seconds of Summer
6. vanilla ice cream
7. carelessness
8. poems that give me faith in humanity
9. Twenty One Pilots
10. my friends
11. inside jokes
12. hope
13. "we were wild./we were beautiful./we were free.
/we were lost, but god, we were free."-(a.m.)
14. the color blue
15. delusional ideas
16. thinking about the future
17. food
18. cold nights
19. Ed Sheeran
21. bear hugs
22. sarcastic jokes
23. sleep
24. *him
in no particular order
Luna Pan Jun 2020
Three songs and one unfinished poem.
I was in your arms, singing to ed sheeran at the moment, in between all of the dramas, chaotic nights and nightmares, i found a peace and a quite moment in your arms, i didn't care about the world at all i only cared our little wonderland.
Farah Hanani Aug 2017
A guy like Chris Martin
Whom express the beautiful words about life
When you tried your best but you didn't succeed
Life is like a gambling
You failed, you fail.
You succeeded, you succeed
A guy like Ed Sheeran
Whom write about love song
Perfect
Like nobody is perfect
But at least when you have met the love of your life
Find a soft spot that never ages
Which is heart
Truly genuine heart that can mingle with your heart
Cause when nothing is left around you, you will always his/heart
And you can set it into a photograph ---
Just lil about how chris martin and ed effected in my life. And i thank them for those beautiful words cause it calmed my heart whenever i have troubles.
Kemarin aku mengajakmu melihat senja.
Katanya kamu suka warnanya merah jambu bercampur oranye seperti jeruk mandarin kesukaan ibu.
Kamu selalu ceriwis membahas senja ini dan itu.

“Jangan lupa kopi dan puisi! Kita harus merayakan isi bumi.”
Celotehmu.
“Kamu mau kan melihat senja bersamaku?”

Kemarin aku mengajakmu melihat senja.
Telah kupersiapkan sekian lama.
Aku rakit sendiri senjaku dengan kopi manis dan puisi cinta yang kau sebut - sebut itu.
Aku merangkai pelan-pelan sambil menghayal bola mata emas yang berbentuk kenari kesukaanku dan lengkung pelangi bibirmu.
Cukup lama buatnya,
tapi senjaku sangat cantik.
Dan sedikit rapuh.
Aku harap kamu senang.

Kemarin aku mengajakmu melihat senja.
Tapi kau pergi ke laut dan menjelajahi waktu.
Terhanyut malam.
Aku tidak ada di sana.

Kamu menolak senjaku.
Katamu ada senja yang lebih bagus.



Senja, senja, senja.
Muak dengan puisi senja.
Aku bukan anak indie regional, aku pendengar Ed Sheeran, top 50 ,Danilla Riyadi dan Sapardi !
Aku ya begini begini begini!
Maksud hati tidak menulis puisi emosional. Tapi aku menulis untukmu (bila membaca) dan, ah indie anjing!
Harsh Oct 2012
If I took the lyrics of 'I can't make you love me' and 'See beneath your beautiful',
remixed them into a rap tainted with Eminem's vengeance and Ed Sheeran's soul,
and plagiarized Beethoven's most romantic composition to bring it to life,
maybe I would come a little closer to expressing my true feelings, if at all.
To tell you, though you already know, that I am in desperate need of saving.
I'm showing all the symptoms such as losing control, sense, rationality, sight,
and only you can cure me, not because of the doctor you're studying to be,
but because you are both my Superman and kryptonite.

I spend my days searching for a replacement, an alternative, a pastime,
but of course it's impossible as nothing can substitute perfection.
So I wrestle insomnia to dream of you, but I don't, I'm wide awake,
it's a nightmare. Then I pray only to behold that I'm denied salvation.
However as an intelligent, smart, independent young woman,
with my hair down, head held high and hips swinging to the beat,
I try to channel my energy elsewhere. Amidst all the positive thinking
tequila takes over and I return to my cold bed, with aching feet.

Ideally I want to be the woman you love, or realistically your ****,
on the contrary I'm Neo from Matrix who took both pills.
Bewitched by your once in a blue moon texts, ignoring the red siren
in my head blaring, "nothing makes you stronger, it only kills!"
I have nothing exceptional to offer, so I do not know how to pitch
my average intelligence, talent, wit, personality and body.
Unless God, who you have no faith in, by some miracle
leads you to this, yet another one of my mediocre poetry.
This poem is the sole property of me and cannot be copied or used without permission. [Copyright G.H. Rodrigo 30/10/2011]
KE Jan 2014
Can my soul mate come swooping
into my life
Around my early twenties?
Serenade me with Ed Sheeran songs
And kiss my knuckles.
Become familiar with my brown slopes.
Nod his head to Biggie & Cole with me.
Eat me with the tongue game
Only a poet could have.
Put a glistening rock on my left hand
Before I'm thirty?
Could he tuck in our perfect jewels & read them
A bedtime story
Before enticing me with **** and sweet tea
Then ******* me to sleep?
Anais Vionet Dec 2022
Leong's watching TikTok on her laptop (as always) and she asks Lisa (a NYC girl) “Are you familiar with the the “downtown girl” aesthetic?”
Lisa’s dismissive, “Yeah, it just looks like Urban Outfitters grunge to me.”
Leong explains, “It includes headphones and it’s supposed to be a Lower Manhattan style.”
“Yeah,” Lisa snorts, “Because Greenwich Village and the Lower East Side are SO cohesive.”

Lisa considers herself an Uptown girl (like the song) even though 59th Street, where she lives, is the border between Uptown and Midtown Manhattan. I’m learning that these distinctions are culturally key to New Yorkers.

“And,” Lisa adds, “why would someone wear, and lug around, giant, clunky headphones when you can use AirPods??”
“Amen sister.” I proclaim and even Leong nods in agreement.

“Later, Sunny, Leong and I are on a study break, eating salads and talking about who we hope Yale invites to the next “Spring Fling” concert. We aren’t being realistic; we’re covering who we wish would come. I’d named Charlie Puth, “Kat-Tun!” Leong squealed (A Japanese boy band - apparently Chinese girls LOVE their boybands) and Sunny countered with Ed Sheeran.

“I don’t like Ed Sheeran,” I mumbled, making a yuck-face.
“Why no Ed?” Sunny gasps with shock (She’s a big Ed fangirl).
“I don’t know,” I shrugged, “he’s a star by all measurable metrics,” I admit, “but,” I fade out.
“You want my theory on Ed hate?” Sunny offered, “He’s beyond talented vocally - whoever your favorite artist is, Ed’s probably not that far behind. He’s a stellar song writer and he’s making hit after hit; do you want my theory?”
“Too basic, too popular?” I guess.
“No, he’s not appealing to the gaze,” Sunny states.
“The gays?” Leong questions, stepping back into the conversation.
“No,” Sunny corrects, “the gaze - G-A-Z-E, he doesn’t try to look pretty all the time.”
“Ha!” I snort, “Gaze, I thought you meant gays too,” as Leong and I chuckle together.
“No,” Sunny laughs, “nothing like THAT. Ed’s just not trying to be a heartthrob, he knows that’s not his core strong point - and that’s why he’s discounted.”
“Like lesbians don’t comb their hair or wear makeup and wear pajamas to class” Leong observes, “they don’t want to attract the male gaze?”
“No, we’re not imbued by the male gaze.” Sunny states, “Ed just wants to lowkey.”
BLT Marriam Webster word of the day challenge: Imbued: “influenced naturally”
Josh Cooper Jun 2018
The one soul we become when nights are this cold...
The strength we become when we bath in each other's weaknesses...
The love we dance to when get lost in each other's smiles...
My baby love, I'm hopeful that tonight
Ed Sheeran will find us and say
You and I are one soul in two bodies
You and I, are perfectly, his songs alive
subway
ed sheeran, especially give me love, our ******* wedding song
black and white photos
england, you wanted to show me everywhere
6"2'
the fault in our stars
always
italian, why did you even feel the need to say ti amo
*****, you were drunk when you said it the second time
5.30am
scars on people's wrists, don't be silly, you said it was an accident
collar bones
tumblr
dreams, the good ones were mine, the bad ones were yours
voice recordings
11.11 wishes, the ones you promised you'd help make come true
the word ****
succulents, like on your windowsill
bastille and cars, you would always sing along in the passenger seat
postcards
airport and train station reunions
all those songs i played just for you on my guitar
my sister's birthday, why did you have to choose that date
you're perfect for me, you swore you weren't a liar
***
the anne frank house, where you were ******* texting me from
february 26th
melbourne's federation square
your name was in a movie and i started to cry
thursday 23rd october '14 ~ idk i can't even rn ~ just a pathetic list i will keep adding to
Oberon Feb 2015
we are not the
nicholas sparks novel
read wrapped in comfort
of store-bought quilts
on rainy days

or an ed sheeran song
in long-haul flights
flying us
into one another's
longing embrace
once in
a blue moon

how long will
the movie screens
and best-selling novels
continue to
romanticise a
love like
ours
all of its
torturous;
troubling;
tragic glory

even with dreams
of your laugh
and the most short-lived
imageries of your crescent eyes
the sheets on your side
of the bed remain
perfectly
uncreased
i cannot stop
my heavy lids
and tired bones
from gravitating into
both Arcadia
and Erebus:
another
sweet,
wicked
dream
of
**you.
i'm just.. a little bit broken,
a little bit tired,
a little bit..
missing you.
lu Mar 2018
everywhere i go,
there are reminders of you.
whether it be the blue sky
that reminds me of your eyes,
or the pink cherry blossom tree,
reminding me of your lips.
the soothing melodies of ed sheeran
remind me of when you used to sing them
to me over facetime.
and any time you pop up on
my twitter or instagram timeline,
or even my youtube recommended.
it's like you're everywhere.
reminders of everything we were.
everything we could have been.
everything we weren't.

i wonder if anything reminds
you of me.
do you see your baseball cap
and remember the matching one i have?
do you ever look down at your bracelets
and smile down at the one i gave you.
do you even wear it?
do you think of me when you hear ed sheeran?
or when chasing cars by snow patrol comes
on shuffle?

do i ever even cross your mind?
i doubt it.
but unfortunately for me,
you're always on mine.

i almost bought tickets to your show today.
i wonder if you thought of me when my
city was announced.
i wonder if you prayed that i was going to show up,
or if you planned out an apology speech just in case.
or maybe you prayed i wouldn't show up,
and lucky for you, i won't.
because i know if i see you,
my heart won't be able to handle it.

but no matter how much i try to avoid you,
i know one day i'll have to face you again
so i can let go.
it would have been 23 days after your birthday,
John Carpentier Dec 2013
I like fried egg sandwiches because they taste good
and Blackbird or Banana Pancakes
will earn me one or two
at the nicer fronts in Brooklyn.
Take these broken wings and learn to fly,
says the cute West Coast redhead as she tosses me my meal.

I’d make another stop at Seattlebucks just for kicks
and caffeine,
but I know they’d kick me out.
My guitar frightens them.
His cream and seafoam green
clashes with their black and emerald,
and his whammy bar looks too much like part of a cappuccino machine.

My jacket is stinking again
so I truck on over to 7th street
where a trendy Asian kid nods his head to Otherside
and cleans it dry.

As long as I’m there
I put on my sunglasses at Union Square
so I can stare at the clouds while I strum.
Case throws himself on the stone
and sighs philosophically, “Why Donate?”

Now I’m no second rate city musician,
I’m the best of the best of the best sir.
I play gently and never yell.
I remember how stressful morning commutes were.
Don’t let me darken your door
that’s not what I came here for.

A big guy in a silver suit strolls over
and asks me if I sell CDs.
I scoff and tell him only losers listen to CDs.
I tell him I like his tie
and he throws it to Case.
Case catches and says, “Well ****.”
I will wait for you
I tell the man
and he says
the sun it rises slowly as I walk.

I exhaust all of my Ed Sheeran
searching for lunch but come up dry.
When my stomach’s empty my pipe isn’t
so I sweat a little
and Case channels his inner Yoda
saying, “Worry don’t.”

He hands me a granola bar and I protest
because it’s one of his last,
but sometimes you just can’t argue
with a grumbling belly
and a good friend.

I try my luck in the squares today because the circles are too open.
Herald treats me better than Times
which isn’t surprising
because in one I’m a novelty
and in the other, out of date.

Hey get rhythm
when you’ve got the blues
seems like silly advice from a sad musician,
but apparently not everyone’s a critic.

Case scoops up enough for a Big Mac and fries but
I forget the fries while Case protests
saying, “Will, don’t,”
but he knows just as well as I
that guitar needs new strings and now we’re only short $1.66

I walk and talk to myself
while I eat and end up back home
or one home
at the center of Central
where there’s a boulder like a schooner in an ocean of grass.
Tonight there are 6 stars out which is pretty good
all things considered.

Collective sigh
as guitar hums Coldplay,
I spark a cig,
Case yawns, “We done,”
and we doze off.
The second section of a longer narrative poem. Parts 1 & 3 can be found on my profile.
Remi Leroy Mar 2017
(The sun is somewhat dimmed, as though I'm looking through a film.)

Losing myself in the crinkles of your eyes
As you smile carelessly into the camera
I remember
The way you scrunch your nose a little
The way your lips remind me of cherry blossoms

(It's a little cold here. The temperature is falling.)

Even as I lay in bed shivering and battling my fever
I remember the nights you wished you were here
The nights you work as a bartender, carelessly picking up girls over the counter
Do you serve them all poisoned holy grails?

(A hollow whirring. That's the sound I hear when my ears are blocked.)

Your favorite song plays in the background
I remember
When you said my voice was soothing
When you said I meant something
Ed Sheeran probably didn't mean it
But now I cringe with every note of his

(The brightness before me is blurring. Are those my tears or is it just the water?)

It was beautiful, really
But pink sakura petals do not bloom in this region
Even the colour pink is distressing to me
Since we matched in winter through spring

(You nicked my heartstrings. How do I mend it?)*

I find you in all the little things
Cigarettes, temples, business trips, huskies,
Harry Potter, Radler, Netherlands, salmon,
Macaroons, banana man, an 18 grand television

Round and round, the second hand runs on the face
The sun goes down and down, signing off the days
Round and round, you're running in my head
I go down and down till I reach the seabed
17.03.05
Mateuš Conrad Jun 2022
2022... oh dear me: how much i gained from the pandemic
while so many people suffered...
i truly came into my element... i feel like a whirlwind...
like a ******* hurricane...
my heart is a sparrow and a cage and the sparrow
has rabies and the cage is rusty...

what a glorious summer! i'm not in love but i'm also
in love! i'm not in love with any girl...
and i'm in love with my self... actually:
i'm just self-accepting, self-forgiving...
                 that Walter Sickert exhibition did wonders
to me...
the fact that i cycled all the way from Romford
to Tate Britain by ol' father Thames added to the effect...
the fact that i was being checked out
by this one girl in particular...
who came with her "cousin" and most certianly
at least one grandma...
    
   of course i didn't make a move! where's the thrill
of thought when you make "chess" moves?!
i'm a card-player... i like other thrills...
short-term thrills...
   i don't like making moves to equate into
consequences and responsibilities...
the hazardous creature that i am:
        i know my dues...
                        done and tested...
i said NO to one girl telling me:
oh... i just want to grow old and watch the news
on the t.v. with someone...
like **** i'm going to that...
can i invest my attention span in clamouring
into clouds?!
or pretending to play chess looking
at a brick wall?!
or looking at the Ancient of Days in
the bark, branches and leaves of trees?!

i was walking back from the shop... geared up...
had my beef mince... my mushrooms...
my youngling celery...
i already had all the other ingredients
for a... a more diluted Bolognaise sauce...
i like more juices in my Bolognaise...
most people make Bolognaise really thick...
there's no sauce... i hate that...
it's like over-cooked pasta...
            
as long as the sauce is decently seasoned with
bay leaves, all spice pods... paprika...
pepper... salt... ketchup... oddly enough...
fresh chillies...
                    what else did i use?
**** on me...
                        hmm... i'm scratching my head about
to scratch my ***** but refraining...
aha! mixed herbs... mixed Italian dried herbs...
dried basil, dried rosemary, dried thyme...
dried oregano...
  Bolognaise all slurp-y... soup life...
why? it's hot... need more red wine need more
Passata...
   need at least one can of plum potatoes...

fair enough in winter time... but during the summer
months... you need a Bolognaise sauce that's
almost a soup... not not really a soup...
since it's still a Bolognaise sauce... and not a soup...

oh man... i felt like a boss walking
with all the ingredients from the supermarket...
of all the people that bought their concert Red Hot Chilli Pepper
t-shirts from@ whenever it was...
how many will gladly walk around in them?!
zilch... 0... nada...
                  i was wearing mine today...
idiotic *******...
                      
   then crossing the street...
a mongrel poo... a tender looking dog came running
up to me...
  dearest limp of a missing limb...
licking my wounds... my tattoos of plums...
almost picked him up...
while within a second a girl ran up to
me and stated: we've been trying to catch him
for almost half an hour...
Hades... he, who adorns himself with animals...
          
     and no...
   it's impossible for me to like Ed Sheeran...
right now i'm listening to KORTEZ: z imbirem -
with ginger...
i've drank enough..
       i'm just going through the cinema
of my memories...
       it only takes one song...
to undermine Ed Sheeran's performance...

it was great... but it was also... VANILLA...
ICE ICE baby...
i'm sort of reliving the Red Hot Chillio Pepper
Performance and i'm dazed...
first day they opened up with Can't Stop...

second day they opened up
up with Around the World...
that's that's i'm currently listening to...
my god... the second day was such a better playlist...
no Scar Tissue... did they play Californication?
i'm pretty sure they didn't play Under The Bridge...

it's a band man! the energy of the drummer:
Chuck! Chuck! Chuck!
the energy of the bass player! my god the compliments
for the heart of the band with the guitarist...
the romantic: the Aramis...
i'm releasing to the crescendo of Around the World
and i'm like... poker faced me on call...
but now that i have a t-shirt i'm going mildly wild...

seriously... drizzle some anger-salt on me and
with Around the World crescendo?!
i'd be *******: gone... gone...
that's wwhy Ed Sheeran is so un-impressive to me...
one ginger **** after another...
          mate... you need a drummer!
a rascal bassist... an emotional guitarist...
and an altogether together vocalist...
to hell with the Beatles...

   the Beatles had a ****** bass player...
most bands have ****** bass players...
     i level up! i like bands with good bass players...
rhythm guitar(s) my ***... i need bass...
i need a reiteration of the Quintent of Jazz..
you hear me?
              i'm reliving a dream...
i went to a Red Hot Chilli Pepper gig for free...
and i wasn't in love with a girl...

to hell with me ******* prostitutes...
thank god they're o.c.d. about s.t.d.s....
because humid is bad hygiene...

seriously though, Ed Sheeran is vanilla...
when it come to the opening crescendo
of Red Hot Chilli Peppers' of AROUND THE WORLD...
******* vanilla... the shared energy is...
insatiable... oh man...
the shared energy of a band...
he's great... he's great... he's great...
but a band is a band...

        boom: boom boom boom....
and then the strobe lighting... like lightning...
no matter what man alone and what stage...
a band is a band..
with the Red Hot Chilli Peppers the Beatles
are historical relics... leftovers...
seriously... they are...

               i'm more prone to reference myself
toward King Crimson... from staged
zeitgeist era...

DEATH TO THE LUMBERJACK CRITIC!
Lola Aug 2017
I walk in
I hope to find you
I hope to see those pearly whites
That brought a big wide grin to my face

Dear white chocolate mocha
Where are you
I am looking for you
Are you looking for me..?

I listen to a man, that goes by the name sheeran
When he sings it echoes in my ear
It’s like an anthem,
So sweet that the goddess of love can surely drink to

Dear white mocha,
I want to know your secrets
I want to watch the stars glow at night

White mocha most of all
I want to know what it’s like to fall and have you catch me
I want you to be my friend

Mocha I want to be able to be in sync
Instead of two
Can our souls intertwined to be one?


Dear white chocolate mocha do you know how to fix a broken girl ?

— The End —