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Amy Leigh Mar 2014
I  can't  promise  you  it  wasn't the
way the night went cold or  
how their breaths began to swallow
                 syllables  rolling  off   freezing
tongues.  I  can't  promise  you  it wasn't
the   weariness   in   fractured  smiles  or
the slight movement of his  hand  across
innocent  skin, or  the way he whispered
sweet nothings crawling down the back of
her spine. But I can promise you this: the
cerulean gleam of  the  incandescent sky
hid the moon and stars she longed to see,
while the cold rocks cutting into her back 
shattered what little love of the world
she had left inside her weary soul.


© A. Leigh
Alike to Twin Minds with Hands and Feet possess
Perform their own Stage and make a Good Score
With such Lyrics does their Rhythm address
Defined in the Air; As once did before
Which, in some Ardent but Doubtful Degree
Would deny the Advice handed down in Print
Since they are a Pair submitted to Belief
That to answer those Charges was far too Mint
Much for their Lifted Chins to Cower in Shame
Knowing the Goals they defer would spell their End
But why would they Work so much for a Name
When in Wrinkles are their Numbered Values spent?
There is Reason why the Pool is cleaned Within
To drain-in the ****; To blue-out the Sin.
#tomdaleytv #tomdaley1994
Ian Binion Dec 2018
I wore my fathers shoes to a funeral today.

It took me sixteen years to get to a point where I could walk in them and truly say that they were a perfect fit.

It took me sixteen years to get to a point where I finally understood the senselessness  of death and the preciousness of life

It took me sixteen years to feel the gravity of death wrapping around my blissful yet ignorant heart, pulling me down to the knowledge of reality.

It took me sixteen years to not just know, but comprehend the fact that my time will pass me.

It took me sixteen years to learn all of these lessons, and now that I have I can start to live a life.
Rizna M Rameez Oct 2018
An ode to days of yester-year
Where dreams were just beginning
A hope for bring tomorrow may
My dreams are now a-spinning

Bade goodbye
To years one, five
And now take on the six
Where hopes are found
And made to ground
Up sleeve of all my tricks

Hope.
30.10.2018
Turned sixteen. Fifteen was full of dreams and sixteen I plan on making them reality.
Cné May 2017
'twas a long hot summer day
sticky air without a breeze
concrete burning my bare feet
cicadas screaming in the trees

a triggered memory
smelling honeysuckle scent,
the way he looked at me
remembering what he meant

when I was sixteen
with his mischievous grin
and a squint in his eye
he said, I hope you know how to swim

in his old pick up truck
as we rolled the windows down
he drove us to this place
in the woods outside of town

off road, through a pasture
to a watering hole, he found
guaranteed to cool me off
from spring fed water underground

sweet talking me *****
still not sure how he did it
a memory now sacred
my first time skinny dippin'
I still love skinny dippin' to this very day
Hannah Sep 2017
Entry ~
You were the first man that ever broke my heart. It was the day I was born. You held me in your arms and made me a promise that would rip us both apart. You promised to love me unconditionally from the start. But time passed and over the years those words faded from your heart. In the presence of a war when you had one foot out the door. There are vacancies in my memories where a father should have played a part. Like teaching me to drive a car, or telling me don't believe boys that say I love you from the start. Instead, I looked at every boy with tears in my eyes and willingly accepted every single lie, thinking maybe if I part my thighs they'll learn to love how broken I am inside, but they never do. Just like you they leave without a single clue and I'm left alone, used, wishing my daddy would have loved me too. And I'm not writing this to blame you, or break you, or tell you I hate you. I've made mistakes too. Ones deeply rooted in my relationship with you. And I get that maybe you didn't have a clue that your daughter was struggling in the world without you. But I relied on you to set the standard for boys I would let into my heart. By the time I was sixteen, I felt like a tortured piece of art. I learned to love myself of course. Over the years of ripping myself apart I learned to chart the darkness in my own heart. I don't blame you anymore for my broken parts. I'm healed from being angry at you. I'm writing this to tell you I'm sorry for failing you, and I'm sorry you failed me too.
The apple never does fall too far from the tree.
**
Prabhu Iyer Aug 2018
Healing like the moon, you,
and jilted like the night am I:
paired in the heavens,
my darkness to your dream;

A cloud-patch of the downpour, you,
and I, a moment of the wait:
our meeting was written for this year;

The only passway:
your name,
the beat I live by.

Dressed in a bandhni pair,
leaving my father's lane will I come,
for you bringing,
sixteen monsoons together:
hold soft, for the string is sharp
for now starts the journey of seven lives;


I, at this end of the string
and you the other:
many the agonies before they come together!

The only passway:
your name,
the beat I live by.
Continuing on from my old project translating the lyrics of some of the finest songs from Indian films, here's the translation of the gorgeous title song from the 2018 superhit Hindi language film 'Dhadak' -

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=qWnzMwT6SKo

Original lyrics in Hindi by Amitabh Bhattacharya
Hae Sun Aug 2018
I could’ve woken you up in the morning and could’ve been the sun that rises even when we both live in a place where it never does.
I could’ve taken you to museums, at least 2 of where I’ve been to. The first one, we’ll have to take the bus because I’d tell you that I’m too lazy to drive but for the second one, I will tell you that I’ll drive you there.
My car would look at me as though it knows that there is another soul seating in the passenger seat – it was no longer some books, a box of pizza, or my dog.
I could’ve taken photos of you in that place, post them everywhere but subtly so that they can see that there are at least 2 forms of art in that photo — the one you’re looking at and the one I’m looking at.
I could’ve talked to you at night under the stars, in the same rooftop where I told you that I liked the cathartic experience of doing just what we could’ve done; the same rooftop where you talked about your life, at least some pieces of it.
I could’ve brought you to where I used to study. We could’ve walked the halls that stared at me for being too alone and too lonely only so I could tell them, “Hey, here he is, finally.” and they could’ve smiled at me because they know how long the longing lasted.
We could’ve taken a stroll in the shade of the trees or could’ve had a picnic there while watching the joggers and the sunset.
I could’ve introduced you to my friends – they’ve been meaning to meet you. They too know how long I’ve been stuck on an island by myself. They know who I was when I was eleven and when I was sixteen and I bet, if you gave them a chance, you could’ve heard the crazy things we did.
And maybe they could’ve liked you. They could’ve told me how lucky I was and probably would’ve warned me that if I hurt you, they’d stick with you instead of me.
I could’ve introduced you to my family — my mom liked you even then. I could’ve introduced you to my little brother who I would consider as the biggest and most important judge of character because I believe that children can sense goodness in people and he could’ve seen that in you.
I could’ve written you letters, could’ve left random little tokens I would've used for all the words I cannot muster to say.
I could’ve played the piano for you even if I just know, at most, 3 songs; even though I don’t really know how to read notes at all.
I could’ve introduced you to the artists I like and I could’ve known more of yours. I could’ve listened to them and I would have had to remember you every time.
I could’ve held your hand, could’ve eaten brunch with you, could’ve read you a poem.
I could’ve loved you — could have – if I was the given the chance.
But, I was and I could’ve used it but I didn’t.
my idea of an “us”
The Heart-of-Promise, filled on his Wanton Day
Sorted the Journal to fix his Dates ahead
But the Noise down below would get in his Way
To record this Occasion; And the Dread
Of another Year before his License
To join the main and raucous World of the Teens
Each page A-Party; Each Chapter A-Spotting
And every Mouth speaks of Haves and Have-Beens
This is the Juice which every Child must Drink
Sour enough to turn his Locks into Stress
But the Door came A-Knocking; Mum held the Cake
Sixteen Candles he blew; And Hope came to Bless.
His Heart now strong; His Promise just fulfilled
And left his Room sweeping the Dust he killed.
#benjdaley
Izzy Aug 2017
My King,
At sixteen we have the world at our feet.
We're building our future with unsteady hands.
One day we might run, leaving this little town in the dust.
Hand in hand. Crowns atop our heads.
The two of us against the world, off to build our own castle.
Battles raging around and between us, but we will win them.

One day we will walk through the doors of our castle, our kingdom, our home.

One day our story will be told.
They will tell it.
We will tell it.

To the little princess or prince that fills our castle with the pattering of little feet, beyond contagious laughter, and more mess than we'll feel we can handle.
It will be wonderful, an adventure we face together.
A journey through life, all our own
                                                             ­     Love, your Queen.
LexiSully Dec 2016
Oh the fun we had as little six year olds,
Laughing loudly and acting crazy,
Staying up till the wee hours laying on the floor watching Hairspray

Oh the hyper times we had as ten year olds,
Sipping a little too much caffeine,
Running around acting like animals in the front yard

Oh the crazy times we had as twelve year olds,
Not afraid to get down and *****,
Camping and sliding down dirt in the ravine

Oh the terrifying times we had as fourteen year olds,
Living together for a whole week,
Trying to **** each other with words shortly after

Oh the bonding times we had as fifteen year olds,
The darkest time in my life,
Where we cried and I knew we would always be friends

Oh the lively times we had as sixteen year olds,
Both getting our licenses,
Driving around everywhere just to take fun pictures

Oh the tiresome times we had as seventeen year olds,
Sitting in your car before school,
Ranting and laughing about every aspect of life

Oh the amazing times yet to come,
Attending college and growing older,
Still talking and ranting and laughing like every time before.
Amoy Apr 2018
Five Years old, **** and shy.
I saw you letting go and I cried.

Mummy! Mummy!  Please don’t go.
Will you come back?  I don’t know.

Mummy! Mummy! Do you care?
Please, please stay. I want you near.

She looked me in my eyes and said,
“Don’t call me that.  Call me by my name.

It’s Marcia.  Give it a try”.
That’s the last day I saw her…

Until sixteen years later, one day in late July.
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