Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
PoserPersona Jul 2018
Idly stationed in the bucolic hills,
sits a stone well; unknown when abandoned.
Though her people foregone, water yet fills
as much as you can want for. In tandem,
are high trees less old than she; occluding
the view from pathless and naive strangers.
As their wish in well is to keep obtuse,
those that siren would otherwise capture.
Her drink, one thinks they'll constantly receive.
In reality, they'll only be taken.
Youth will fade as the heart minutely bleeds.
Their hollow, dried corpse will be forsaken.
And though her hole but a tall dark crevice,
I see my reflection on the surface.
Eleanor Rigby Nov 2014
I feel like a stranger
Stuck in another stranger's body.


-- Eleanor
10W
ThePoet Sep 2015
I looked at 
you close, 
to find you a 
stranger now.
I looked at 
you closer, 
to find you 
always were 
somehow.

© Sarah Ahmed (ThePoet)
Holly M Jul 2018
empty is not the right word.
what is the word for
not quite empty but not quite full?
there is a glass on the table-
it is not half-empty,
but it is not half-full.
it is just a glass of water.
i am just a glass of water:
not empty, not full;
not happy, not sad-
not anything.
not anything at all.

the clear blue nothingness
reminds me of the fact.
it’s dotted with cotton candy clouds.
i wonder if they are as sweet.
my tongue salivates at the thought.
it is like a land of dreams
without sorrow or pain
yet i am here,
floating lightly
though i feel like a paperweight,
weighed down by the lump in my throat.

it’s hard to remember
what home looks like.
i can’t see in terms of
“where i belong,”
i only see in terms of
“the trees are like broccoli sprouts-” and
“the cars look like hotwheels-” and
“every single one has a person in it, and
they all have their own journeys, and
i am here.”
i don’t think they know how beautiful it is.
i didn’t.

home to me now is a backpack
a couple books
and a trinket from an old friend.
they are the only ones like me:
strangers in a strange land.
i’d like to find my way back someday-
if only i knew the way.
M Solav Sep 2018
There are clouds of sound and noise
That utter thoughts in a muffled voice,
Gestures of hands simply won’t cast out
Cloudy skies in days of doubt.

Like strangers lost in a crowd
Whose cries are buried by the loud,
The loud din of helpless wanderers
Whose presence disrupts and disturbs.

All strangers left on their own,
Islands floating out in the fog;
Orphans with cruel fates to bemoan;
Fates that are swept under the rug.

And who's looking with interest, who reaches down with an arm,
Never so eager to help, neither too late nor too soon?
Who would make this world perhaps a little more warm
And freshen the skies of our cloudy afternoon?
Written on December, 2017.
Robert G Page Mar 2015
by
rgpage

hollow now my world has grown
with age that time has ****** on me.
from carefree childhood days i'd known,
from days of climbing in a tree.

from summer sunlit mornings
from sundays in the park.
i didn't see time's warnings
or see the sun grow dark.

i didn't see the stranger
who followed me one day.
i didn't sense the danger
as i went off to play.

with eager youth i left from home
the world was my shell.
i didn't see the stranger
who'd lead me to my ****.

i'd lifted weights with youthful ease
these weights now known as life.
did what i wanted as i pleased;
i took myself a wife.

and with my wife we had a child
we had a baby boy.
with carefree sundays in the park
he filled our lives with joy.

we watched his life as he grew strong
'til off to war he went.
he told his mom, "it won't be long
until my journey's spent."

and as his ship pulled from the pier
i saw the stranger's face.
with deep set eyes he blankly starred,
he seemed so out of place.

i felt as if i'd known this man
had known him all my life.
in parks where as a youth i ran
and when i met my wife.

it wasn't long our son had gone
my wife had passed away.
and in the war he followed her
just six months to the day.

old and lonely now i sit
and watch the children play.
on carefree sundays in the park
until that final day.

a day in which the stranger comes
and takes me to my rest.
to my loving wife and son
upon my final breath.
Andra May 2015
02:47 am. i am on the bench, alone, waiting...

the stranger sees me, sighs and asks me wheezing:
"you yearn for someone, too. don't you?"
i gasp. he passes by me and stops.
"what do i have to do to get rid of the yearning? i'm not ok..."
i say nothing, but in my eyes he could've read my answer, my cries and my yearn.
my yearns...
"i should go to sleep, right?"
i smile.
„but does it go away?”
„it certainly does not go away, but at some point you will get used to it and it's like a friend new in town that you take out for a walk.”, i answer him.
"you miss him, don't you?"
i gasp again. we look quietly at each other for a few seconds. then my phone rings.
"tell him that. you might be surprised. now i'll go, pick it up. good night!"
i managed to say: "take care of your yearns!" and i picked up the phone.

it was not him.
Kris Balubar Jan 2018
Unexpected meets, searching for something.

No warning,

No caution,

Unaware,

Hours passed, I looked and found you.
There standing in the dim light, innocent.
Full of life, moving uncertain.
Our eyes locked on one another.
The excitement crawls through my body.
Wanting to speak the unspoken words.
There, we're both standing in the middle.
Strange, but you were the woman.
The woman I've been searching for
On this lovely evening.
Today I woke up 1AM
and felt like playing FIFA
I thought I was about to be robbed cuz when I rode the van...
but the guy's earring was sparkly
and I was the only one left in when we got to the airport
My bags were heavy
and they allowed my ID
to enter so I went to the departure
and played FIFA again
loud people are annoying
the lady in the food counter is pretty
My flight made me feel nervous
the old woman i sat beside kept talking and reading the magazine, i just kept nodding
When we landed I swore my heart skipped a beat
when i didn't see my luggage in the conveyer belt
I ate at a dimsum place and felt like they ***** my wallet
But more ****** was the guy who tried to rip me with a 700-peso taxi ride
I went to another, only got 170
I rode the Baguio bus
another old woman was beside me
she was creepy
but she told me I had a nice personality
That was the best thing a stranger has ever said to me
~
                    I've been taught
                      To only tread
                  in shallow waters
      But his eyes were oceans of blue
    and I was ready to take the plunge.
       Never mind that I've forgotten
                      how to swim.
     If in return, it is he that leaves me
                        breathless,
  Let it be that I covet air for all eternity.
Gilly Sama Jul 2016
It is five twenty three
When my world stopped.
I was walking on that corridor
While you were waiting at the corner
Your eyes fixed on something I didn't know
Yet when you hear these footsteps
You began to meet my eye
My heart was beating wildly on and on and on.
I was too terrified,
Terrified to let those gazes go
I was calm on the outside
But too weak that I might be dead in the inside
Why I was this so connected to you?
I know you
I know your name
I know where you lived
I know your favorite color
I know how those little eyes shines when you smile
But no
We haven't talked before
And we didn't do until now.

As you continue looking at my scared big eyes
I started to turn away
And regret all the ****** things I made
From the moment I sat next to you on that public vehicle
Until now that you are there,
There that I don't know where.

I regret being a stranger to you from the beginning till the end.

That's all I am to you:
A stranger you are sitting next to,
Seeing on the hallway,
Giving promoting cards to,
And an audience from the crowd.
Ming Sama // Poem No. 2
At the spot people still glance as they pass, see it empty and give a sigh
You can still hear his cheerful whistling as you go by,
Now the corner where the strange man lived is dull and clear
The spot where he lived, the man from everywhere but here.

The strange man talked of places never seen
He talked of places no one had ever been,
He talked of beautiful princesses, kings and knights
He talked of fierce battles and winning fights,

People who were from out of town thought he was just a little *****
But the local people knew he was the man from everywhere but here.

He talked of Trolls and Giants as tall as the eye could see
He talked of maidens and fair ladies as beautiful as can be,
He talked of conquering fiery dragons without a scrape
He talked of guarded dungeons where he’d always escape.

All the people from far off would say “he’s full of beer”
But all the locals knew he was the man from everywhere but here.

He talked of tall trees and mountains oh so high
He talked of big castles that would scrape the sky,
He talked of great far off enchanted lands
He talked of places where good and evil always held hands.

People ask him if he was ever afraid to die
He’d take his finger and point to the sky,
With the same old sparkle in his eye,
He’d say the day that star up there is gone
That is the day that I will move on.

The people from out of town thought the man was just a little *****
But the locals knew he was the man from everywhere but here.

His cheerful whistling would brighten anyone’s day
His enchanting whistling would make the rain go away,
He’d sit in the same spot all day and talk to the young and the old
He talks to the nicest, the meanest and even the bold.

The people from far off would say “he’s full of beer”
But the locals knew he was the man from everywhere but here.

That winter the clouds rolled in and it snowed for quite a while
But no matter how cold the strange man always wore a smile,
He became so pale he was as white as a ghost
But no matter how cold he still had time to boast.

Boast about all that he had seen and done
Boast about all the pretty ladies he had won,
He’d tell you still about all the people he’d met
He’d tell you about all the sly traps he’d set.

The people from out of town thought he was just a little *****
But all the locals knew he was the man from everywhere but here.

The winter wore on and so did the snow
But the strange man never looked low,
That night the clouds rolled away
To reveal that the stars had gone away.

The next day the man had vanished out of sight
All that was left was his blanket and pipe,
The man never came back after that day
But his cheerful whistling will never go away.

At the spot people still glance as they pass, see it empty and give a sigh
You can still hear his cheerful whistling as you go by.
Now the corner where the strange man lived is dull and clear
The spot where he lived, the man from everywhere but here.
Sarah Sep 2018
Nameless stranger
Come and be my friend
Let us explore this life together
Let us enjoy it before it ends
Read me your so many books
And I shall read you mine
To explore worlds beyond our reach
Worlds made up by authors minds'
Let us learn about ourselves
Let us learn about the world
A world so divine
Yet somehow brutal and cold
Nameless stranger
Come and take my hand
Tell me all your little secrets
And I shall tell you mine
Show me what are you hiding behind those fake smiles
And the pains you conceal behind pretentious happy eyes
Tell me how they broke your heart
And laughed out loud at your pains
And I will show you my broken parts
All the dreams that went in vain
Be careful from my sharp edges
I don't want to cause you another scar
Or add a new wound to your still bleeding heart
A nameless stranger
Yet you are no stranger at all
Those who have experienced agony
Can recognize souls as damaged as their own.
I wrote this based on an actual stranger I saw a couple of times,
If you notice any mistakes in spelling/grammar do tell me, I'd much appreciate it
Unfamiliar face, with your touch that melts so warm.

Foreign bodies with the same intention, wanting more.

Exchanging breaths instead of words,
No expectations to be heard..

Lines blurred.

Asking nothing but a moment of euphoric selfless bliss

Just thrusts of lustful passion
with pain and pleasure in its midsts

  Subtleness.

As we continue to succumb this yearning, pure desire..

this stranger doesn't feel so strange,
like a flame amidst the fire.


-Bobbie Leigh
Raindrop Jun 2017
When the day comes I get tired of dreaming about a stranger, maybe by then I can finally let go of my dearest and free myself from the love that consumed me.

Maybe by then, I can finally look at you without shedding any tears. And maybe I'll just laugh at the things I wrote about you; even this.

But right now, I can’t let you go―not today, not tomorrow or in the next few years―but someday, I will. And when that day comes and I remember you, maybe I’ll realize that I am far too young and naive now to know something about love, and that I only got swayed by the smaller traps of life. Just like how I found myself getting trapped by the love I have for you.

Someday, I will...
Nickolas Niles Jun 2018
The pages dripped,
As so the time of the lover.
What seemed so pure,
Gone the distant time another.
From tears to blood,
Pleased and fitted the seeking lines.
This writing love,
Above all the pure soul he whines.
Somberly eased,
One seeks a fine place to rest on.
Of all chastised,
Left a soul requited and blessed.
Run forgiveness,
Placed heavenly upon his chest.
What you know...
Wolf Dec 2018
A lost stranger
Waved at me today
My aching heart
Hurt a little less
The corners of my lips
Raised a little more
Face every trial
Knowing that you made my day
Brighten a little more
To Lost, be strong through anything that you face.
Gideon Aug 2015
There are stories in the mirror
I read them everyday
Each day a new story
Different from yesterday's

Each day I read something new
But some stories turn out blue
Each mirror tells a story
To a stranger or friend
The stories they tell
Are different but never end

Each mirror tells a story
When it's in the light
But grows quiet and cold
If the moon is in sight

There are stories in the mirror
I hear them all the time
Just look in the closet
They are waiting to be told
there is always a something new about us each day and you'll find out if you look in the mirror everyday
you may say
my english is broken
you may say
my skin is too tan
you may say
my hair is too curly
but honey
english didn't raise me
i grew up around a language
that is just as beautiful as yours
my skin was kissed by the sun
my hair was created by mermaids
that swim in the deeps of the ocean
i know my skin is not like wheat
i don't have sunflower's hair
but that doesn't mean
my beauty is less than yours
that doesn't mean that the words
that come out of my lips are wrong at all.
Crego Nov 2018
Funny how
it used to be
so comforting
talking to you
But lately
I’ve never been
more uncomfortable
just being around you.
0900
Andrew Kerklaan Feb 2015
I do not know you, but I feel you are a very dear friend of mine...

I'm certain

In some time I have turned to address you.
Even shared my intimate thoughts...

But in this reality you are just a teenage girl wearing a black toque and a flowing coat
Stood silent and alone, waiting for the train.

Our worlds may never even intersect beyond this moment...
          May never share any consequent interest past this single interaction


But I'd like to believe in the future if our paths were to cross again that you would see me...

And when you did, you would simply know that we were once friends
.
I saw a girl at the train today... Much younger then myself. We didn't talk or anything but when I held the door for her I saw something in her eyes that was really strangely familiar...
Like someone you'd spent your whole life around.. Except I'm meeting them for the very first time...
I squiggle and squirm
Trying to find a place
Inside this suit of skin I wear
Try to display my feelings on my face

But no matter how I shift and slide
There is no room for me here
In this skin in which I hide
Where I live with my fear

I wonder constantly
How does everyone seem so comfortable?
So happy and free?
In their very own skin
How are they different from me?

I see them walking
Confident
Hips swaying
Moving with no consequence

How can I love myself
If I don't even feel comfortable with myself?

In other words,
How do I love a stranger?
Even though I live with myself
I feel like someone that I've just met
You can't save me
from the road I took
I've chosen mine
You've chosen yours
Our paths will never cross
like they used to before

I am me
You are you
We are nothing alike
nought day and night

Don't try to
fix what is broken
For that you are
but simply another

Stranger
Deb Jones Nov 2017
Time is swiftly flying all around me
But my nights are as lonely as can be

There comes into my life a handsome stranger
That briefly filled the emptiness inside of me.

We hit the bars, I showed him my town
The smoked filled pubs and ***** tonks
We made the rounds

The night was gone
He asked me to his room
Tonight is our night
Tomorrow comes too soon
It feels right

Hello stranger won’t you be my best friend
Hello stranger tell me your troubles
Here’s mine again
Hello stranger let’s fill this night with passion
Tomorrow we can be strangers once again

Don’t tell me your last name
I won’t tell you mine

Tonight will be a memory
Soon mellowed by time

You will think of me occasionally and smile
I will think of you too

But tonight
Tonight wasn’t so lonely
Thank you
Next page