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Àŧùl Sep 2013
I have known this much talked about search for true love for over 10 years and I am aged 22 years now. There was this unforgiving loneliness till I was 17 years of age given that I am the only child of my parents who lives with them in a lonely campus of a research institute away from the small city.

A tumultuous relationship filled with resentment to the brim about my parents keeping me their only 'issue' was brought to the hilt and I was weary of being their arguably most beloved 'machine' who was supposed to live sticking to the 'guidelines' laid by them as the ideal only son.

We aren't from a landlord's family and have limited resources, so I was supposed to suffice in my parents' love and affection, studying at a fairly consistent dedication to bring forth the results worthwhile landing me a good job.

But who has been able to control a Romeo-in-the-making?

Answer: Nobody!

But my Juliet wasn't yet on the horizon till age 17, when I mistakenly took my first girlfriend who was my classmate till class 7, to be my last love. Period. Then for the first time I was introduced to the idea of 'love' by this sweet girl whom I dub "G3" over 11 months elder to me. I had proposed her, but it was not a pre-emptive proposal.

Our period of courtship had started over Orkut which was the most popular social website at that time. It was just friendship initially until I had unsuccessfully proposed two bimbets other than my first girlfriend. One of those two unsuccessful attempts was with her best-friend-once-upon-a-time.

I had told her about them both, she had even tried apparently helping me propose her best friend when I had told her that I had even written a song for my childhood crush over the years I had been away from my old school.

Her first reaction was, "I would die for having such a boyfriend! Wish it was I for whom the song was composed."

Then when I proposed my childhood crush, G1, I couldn't even mention about the song and she rejected my proposal. Period. I was distraught, I was broken & I was amazed at how easily she could've undermined my liking for her from the past 7 years.

To take my attention off the disappointment posed by my first rejection. I proposed a different girl, G2, non-seriously, knowing that another rejection was lurking behind the curtains of time.

Rejection 2 successfully diverted my mind away from the mess created. Anyways, I did have a girlfriend for myself. After all, people love guys who sing melodiously and can play guitar apart from having decent appearance, and believe me- I used to look this chocolatey young guy until I was 19 years of age.

The girl who later went on to have the place vacated by my first crush was her same best-friend-once-upon-a-time 'G3'. She went on varied lengths in narrating her own break-up story with the guy she was with. I got a second-hand  piece as my first girlfriend. It was no issues, at least till she was bickering about how he had broken her 'heart-of-a-self-proclaimed-princess' and we started having arguments and serious tiffs over what had been happening in her life.

We broke-up. I had enough of the hardships brought by myself upon her. She had taken to crying harshly over phone. I resented myself. I failed to identify that it was not true love indeed but only a mirage of the idea.

I next concentrated in studies and this time I prevailed over the hurdles offered by examinations and a second girlfriend, 'G4', who refused to openly accept she was going about with me was attracted to me. She'd go see the Taj Mahal at Agra and the Hawa Mahal at Jaipur with me apart from spending the night in the same hotel room but would still reckon me with my pending reappear supplementary exams and wouldn't openly accept a failure as her man. I was frustrated by her autocratic behaviour and opted for a different girl, 'G5'.

G5 was the prettiest of my first 3 GF's as far as looks were considered. We romanced around Delhi's historical places and malls; holding hands around cinemas and Old Fort walls in New Delhi. But still I was as ****** as I was when I was born.

May 7, 2010 was a scorching hot day with the sun ablaze overhead and me going on the busiest highway of India. I was going back to my home and met with a serious road accident en route that kicked me out of my senses into a frozen comatose state.

I somehow survived the life-threatening coma and was moving around in 52 long weeks, limping heavily all thanks to my parents and the kind physiotherapist. Thanks to a poor memory, I initially performed extremely below average at college.

Then I was all prepared to attack at all future examinations and nothing could stop me. I breezed past another girl 'G6', this was my last failure. She was confused between me and a different guy. Neither me nor any other guy with a high self-prestige would entertain the idea of being weighed as an option. I again moved on.

Then comes the continuing story of my true love. True love is the one that lasts forever successfully. She is incidentally my 7th chance upon the love pathway and last. I am sure this is her- my soul-mate.

She is my gateway to the 7th heaven, I find her presence in every aspect of my life. She is 6 years and 9 months younger to me and her descent in my life has been the best thing in my life. I celebrate and rejoice each day in her presence. Our tastes are so similar that we feel merely our X- & Y-chromosomes are different.

We patiently wait for time to last till the day till we perish after blessing our grandchildren. We live 250 kilometres away from each other and have only known each other through voices and photos. We are yet to meet. Till then I wait for the day my master degree gets over and she gets into a medical college.

Now I will end this post by saying that there's no end of love and no beginning of it - you just have to wait, identify and hold on to your truest love.
http://www.relationshiptalk.net/in-search-of-the-truest-love-3677.html

Self-Note (Not to be forgotten): This was the last time you wrote about your past. But what's passed is past now and is meant to be forgotten. I really hope she reads the second-last paragraph duly and gives it due thought. 143 Creeps!
Rosie Wisniewski Aug 2012
It's never goodbye
Always see you later
Though my body is far
My mind is nearer
Than the air you are breathing
I'm with you there sleeping
Always remember
Never forget
The time that we've spent
Together again
Soon we will be
So don't you dare fret
The going gets tough
We've always had it a bit rough
Roll with the punches
And play with cards that are dealt
With a bond such as ours
We will always prevail
Over the hardships and toils
Our blood, it will boil
Tiffs and spats will be had
But, we'll never stay mad
It's been fun and will remain
Joyous all the same
Cuz it's never goodbye
Just see you later
Yenson Sep 2018
CREOLE PIDGIN ENGLISH

wetin de call dis, wetin you go call dis
oyinbo com tiffy tiffy from ma yard
I no trouble yam, I no go knock on dem fer notin
but oyinbo an dem pally com de burglarise ma hice
you hear me so!
I say oyinbo com de steal from me home
Dem be thieves tiffing all over de compound
an when I go say why you tiff about the place
oyinbo tiffs them tell me I go be the *** whey go suffer
See palava see how dem de treat black people
in dem country.
If I go steal from oyinbos, na ma *** dem go trow in jail
yet for dem town, dem com steal your property
and when you go talk they slap you down
Dem go make me loose ma bread, loose ma woman
Dem spoil ma name, them abuse me
Dem tell al kinna lies against me
Dem make nonsense stories and fabu abot me
Dem harass me, discredit and disprofit me oh!
Dem become tomenters, dem say dem go drive me crazy
dem go ruin ma life, dem go make me sik in da head
And heavens know i never trouble any persons
I never put ma feet in anybody house to steal
I never see this kin ting before
where you go do wrong and destroy him whey he do no wrong
Dis is what dem do here now, make you people know
I no fit work, I no fit go anywhere without oyinbo and him
pally dem follow and harass ma ***, dem say dem want me dead
Dead for stealing from me, dead for me doing notin wrong
an them feel proud for all dem de do, dem feel right for wrong
De kin wickedness whey devil himself no fit do, dem don do
And I swear before man an God, dem go get their retributions
Every single one of dem whey involve
God go punish dem
God go bring the chaos of hell on dem
God go mash dem up like dem mash ma life
Except God no be God an tru an  real
Dem are evil people and evil will claim every single one of dem
who do dis to ma innocence.
Peoples wherefer you be, wherefef you go, make you know
That in london der are evil oyinbo thiffs dere
an them go steal and destroy your life if you talk
I beg jus pray for me, dem want me dead
Dem want blood.
De blood of an inoncent man who never trouble anybody
dem de make mockery of me now
Dem de call me Modern day Jesus....
An by de Grace of de real Jesus Christ
Each an every one of dem who hav made me suffa
Will get dem just reward, I wait on the Lord
He is a tru an just God and Him say
Vengeance is mine...
THE DEFINTION OF GANG STALKING
Gang Stalking is stalking by multiple perpetrators, most of whom are unknown to the victim, for the expressed desire to harass using psychological abuse and intimidation.

SYNONYMS FOR GANG STALKING
Synonyms for Gang Stalking are not limited to, but include the following; Group Stalking, Cause Stalking, Community Stalking, Vigilante Stalking, Organized Stalking, Multi-Stalking, and Gas-Lighting.

THE GOAL OF GANG STALKING
The expressed goal of Gang Stalking is to silence a victim, drive a victim insane and possibly to the point of suicide, or destroy the victims reputation and believability as the person will likely be viewed as mentally ill should they complain or report the abuse. Gang Stalking is also used to gather information on individuals as well as force individuals to move or leave an area.

MOTIVATIONS FOR THE ABUSE
Motivations for Gang Stalking vary. Revenge for a real or imagined offense, true or false accusations of a horrible crime of which the victim has gotten away with, silencing a corporate whistle-blower, defecting from a cult, a perceived enemy of a group or organization, and knowing too much are all examples of possible motivations. Due consideration should be used as the motivations of the stalking groups are in no way limited to the above.

WHO ARE THE STALKERS?
The stalkers, for the most part, are everyday citizens. Other stalkers are street thugs, criminals and hooligans who have been hired to harass and intimidate.
EXAMPLES OF GANG STALKING HARASSMENT
Slashed Tires, Threatening Phone Calls, Verbal Assaults by Strangers, Property Damage, Death Threats, Peeping Toms, Following on Foot or by Vehicle, Bizarre Notes and Drawings Left, Loitering, Anonymous False Accusations to Friends, Family, and Neighbors, Character Assassination, Smear Campaigns, Black-Listing, Psychological Abuse, etc.
Aashna Unadkat Jan 2015
Feelings masked
Under a boulder of
Suppression
Painted with smiles
To hide the frustration that was
Bubbling, bubbling
Inside, never escaping
Because it shouldn’t, right?
Fatality:
The consequence of a mistaken exposure of the
Achilles’ heel,
carefully veiled by
socks or such something,
Shrouded by indifference and a pretence of amnesia.

And yet, yet sometimes, sometimes
At the sight of the clear blue sky
Where two dreams had once soared together;
At the sound of the synced rhythm
Of the bell-like laughter
that still echoed
In the present silence of an absence;
At the memory of numbers,
The date of union,
The date of parting;
At the smell of small things -
Coffees and teas and wet earth and flowers
The preferences of which had been tiffs
Time and again, time and again
In a distant past;
At the taste of tears of another loved one,
That seasoned the bitter sorrow of loss
With tangy flavours
That left not ever the tongue.
Just sometimes, sometimes,
Even at the gentle
Trickling
               of
                 rain
That had once inspired a
Melodious dance of a now-truant soulfulness

Somewhere, something, sometimes
Cracks.

A hint of sheer pressed down sorrow
Visible in the gradually extinguishing eye
Heard in the reluctantly cracking voice
As one breaks
Shard by jagged shard
Falling out of a patched up soul
Like petals of a flower, counting:
Missing him, missing him not…
Missing him.
And a now porous wall
Leaves a gaping peephole to expose
A separate world full of hidden memories,
The reminder of which still always
leads to such an
Unprecedented
Moment of weakness.
Lorraine Colon Apr 2023
Candlelight illumes my dreary room
Causing shadows to contort and sway;
In my heart there stirs a deep unrest
As the past flaunts its seductive play

Merciful Absinthe! It's known to calm
Tortured hearts by helping them forget;
How the swirling liquids mesmerize . . .
Tears and Absinthe make a strange duet

But my reveries will not be scorned --
I must yield to their silent demand.
And as the Green Fairy warms my throat,
Memories unravel, strand by strand

I recall the little tiffs we had,
Sometimes ending in a full-blown row,
But with each sip that moistens my lips,
I swear, they seem so trivial now

As I drain the glass, warm thoughts of you
Fill my head, causing me to give pause:
Why in Heaven's name did we part ways?
Right now I can't justify the cause

And I miss the good times that we shared,
Not just romance, but the laughter, too;
I thought Absinthe would help me forget,
But tonight . . . tonight I'm missing you
Vernon Waring Aug 2015
her mother called her
a textbook virgo,
levelheaded, organized,
practical

and every spare moment she had
was spent writing

most of it was hopeful...
possibilities outlined neatly
on elite paper stock -
serious poems to be
submitted to editors,
poems to celebrate
special occasions,
outlines of plots
for short stories
she planned to write

her personal writings
were deeper, sadder

she wrote reams in a daily
journal about troubled
relationships, tiffs with
her husband and kids, her
competitive sister, each
comment meticulously penned
in an elegant flowing manner

but that final note she left
was the shocker,
written in a freakishly
jumpy, shaky hand,
overly loopy, jagged,
a note on cheesy motel
stationery, filled with longing,
with despair,
words spewing out of her pen,
out of control words
scrawled far from home,
the solitary writer engaged
in an emotional seizure,
facing her phantoms alone
and losing
purple orchid Jun 2014
I wrote my way out of the dark pages of my life.
I know what it's like to see your life hanging by a thread;
scraping your skin with your fingernails to stop yourself from crying;
weaving scars on your skin to get some high out of life.

Smiling on the outside, but tearing up on the inside.
I've been there,
disguising last rites as declarations of love;
holding out for that one guy for some unjust reason.
I was once told I was beautiful on the inside,
I used to scoff at that thought.
I couldn't be beautiful,
my metaphorical skin was sewed and patched, ruined and defiled
and there was nothing beautiful about that.
It took me a while to see that beauty for myself.
I was once that one girl sitting in corner at midnight
contemplating suicide over family tiffs, unrequited love, loss, loneliness, and every other
stuff that I couldn't deal with.
I can't look at my left wrist
without feeling some sort of disgust because of the tallies of pain
I left behind.

I had this habit of saying 'I'm always good' whenever asked
but I got tired of seeing illusions as reality,
I was tired of escaping my own life. I was not okay and I needed help.

I wish somebody had told me
this sooner:

MELANCHOLY IS NOT TRENDY, DEPRESSION IS NOT COOL,
CUTTING IS NOT A FASHION STATEMENT
SADNESS IS NOT ATTRACTIVE

It's actually sad that we,
teenagers,
advertise sadness as if it's something to be proud of.  

YOU ARE BEAUTIFUL
YOU DON'T NEED VALIDATION FROM PEOPLE
DON'T LET HIM TELL YOU HE LIKES YOU BETTER WHEN YOU'RE BROKEN.
NO, SCARS DO NOT MAKE YOU ATTRACTIVE
SOME SCARS AREN'T WORTH HAVING
CRAZY IS NOT ****
**** IS NOT ALWAYS ****** SHEDDING A FEW KILOS WON'T MAKE HIM LIKE YOU ANY MORE THAN HE DOES
UNHEALTHY RELATIONSHIPS DON'T HEAL --words I wish I'd  heard sooner

You are not broken beyond repair

YOU ARE A PHOENIX,
A PHOENIX MUST BURN TO EMERGE.
I've read so many poems here about suicide, self harm, eating disorders and so many heartbreaking things (I admit, some of them my own) and it's just really sad. I'm not judging. Maybe I'm just growing up, I don't know. I'm just at a happy place in my life right now
Àŧùl Dec 2017
I* am unfazed by minor tiffs we have.

Little do I get bothered by them,
Over past few weeks we have argued,
Very much with each other that too,
Early on response better be calm.

Yes, you love me unconditionally too,
Over the problems of life we go,
Under that milder sun we will fly.

Promised me you have your hand,
On my way towards you I have been,
Of high faithfulness I am a strong box,
Join you me, come and just marry me,
A**tul Kaushal awaits your arrival here.
My HP Poem #1686
©Atul Kaushal
Àŧùl Jun 2013
We started childish,
Became mature,
Quarreled apish,
Looked for a cure.

Our relationship is,
Yes flawed it is,
Imperfect it is,
But how sweet it is.

We have had tiffs,
You wept and,
I hardly slept,
But we solved if's.

Our little world is,
Free to fly it is,
Not to cry it is,
But we live as it is.

Gusts of winds blow,
Harsh & dry,
We never cry,
And we do not bow.

It gave us a shove,
Humble dove,
Of purest love,
We wore no glove.

Our hands had met,
We put a bet,
In this game,
Carrying full blame.
♡♥♡♥♡
A toast to the purest love!
♡♥♡♥♡
Cheers!
♡♥♡♥♡
My HP Poem #317
©Atul Kaushal
Martin Narrod Sep 2017
Brings up the hole in my dreams, white dressed mannequin overlaid with sequins,
her dress form baring my hide, skinny legs in skinny jeans, faced with her blue eyes. 

This constant storm of thick regret, plays aching words through my stiffened threads. I am startled by the tinge of when he picks at my strings, his fingers cueing up my grief, I'm
transfixed by such staunch memories.

From this September thru December all that is anxious wrecks this time, blending stages of unconsciousness with the right to bide these rhythmic tidings outlined by the rigor of her whines. Bent by the rocking of the sea and the buried screams beneath, herein these mouths are tanned from where these voices once laid command.

Subtly superior, yet haunting in its serenity and clause, the metal stretched across her jaw, and while the dove is drugged, she cannot bestow her love, she is betrayed thru the very lens that halted life's immenseness and intent. Draped in her hospital gown, even her crown forgone, her gurney replaced her throne, no more royalty will she ever know.

Soma sudor, spit begrimed at ends, tiffs being had with friends, he takes away the organs, sends me back to consciousness with the bends. Every lock of hair I wanted, every piece of night I held, all my organs have been dismembered, all the luck I had is lost. In the corner of my iris there's a prime instance of despair, something left on a scrap of paper, though I could swear it looked like underwear. When the locusts fill this mind with every cadence indisposed, then they flourish on my body, leaving once they've eaten off my clothes. 

Hours were my pajamas, where I slept once, now I lie. I'm the afterthought of courage, even in this heady nausea I once found sublime. Here this corpse doesn't leave a shadow, missing time where love bid supine. Even the wind it curdles in me, where no heart beats from this life.

With a child inside this bullet, art existed on her face, twice it eradicated lying, but not the ****** debt betrayed. Simple sin on the interstices, connected by the dots where pleasure writhes. All my hands are covered by this fever, where my mind has gone to die.
PK Wakefield Nov 2010
sick f,lOu;rIshIng
                                         calamity by what abscess you **** hotly moisture
'pon the sticky damsel of
                                                   life
who art brevity greased                       or we argue

(scrawny tiffs) with god (who smells like nothings

yay though it be. still we are. if not only a morsel
emily wiemann Jul 2012
it would be better if i could smile/ if life wouldnt throw curb ***** at me constantly/ im not that old/ im not than young/ but i seem to be in a perpetual state of less fun/ i wish you were still here/ constantly laughing with me/ we had such fun/ didnt we ?/ i though we did the whole time/ though you proved me wrong and out of rhyme/ saying i couldnt be anything to you/ couldnt be more than nothing to you/ i couldnt understand your indecisive mind/ one moment i was perfect/and right in time/ then the next you didnt want to see my face for fear of the time/ oh dear pan, dear prophet, dear destiny dear fate...just leave me be for i feel im too late/ love will never find me now/ i will be a maid/ so now i take this vow at this drinking stage/ no more will i love any of human kind in the way that a man loves a woman with such time/ no more will i search/ no more will i hope to find/ ive given up/ given in/ leave it to father time/ im drunk/ im tired my heart aches with pain/ i cant take anymore/ ive got no more to give/ in hope and in faith i retire from all this/ no more lovers/ no more spring time tiffs/ there is no point to it all/ no worth at all/ i now have decided to stop/ this stupid odd thing called love
Anderson Ritchie Feb 2013
I've loved you since the very first day,
even if I never did quite say "hey".
I've loved you more than my past,
and time with you has gone so fast.

We've had our fights, and tiffs,
its seemed at times like we're on the edge of a cliff.
I've always loved you, like its all I ever could do,
and strangely enough, for the first time, its all I want to so.

What started as friendship,
its grew into a relationship.
What started as friendly love,
grew into passionate love.

I'm not ashamed to admit I love you,
but my dear, If I ever lost you,
I could very well live half a life,
for without you I'd only have half a life.

I've always loved you
It's like its fact, in fact it is.
Theres so much I want to do for you,
but thats not for this.
Susan O'Reilly Apr 2013
I’m sorry were having a fight
when things bother me I go quiet
I build things up inside,
they maybe small -
but because there held in so long they sit
and turn my insides into a festering pit
the smallest slight can then become a raging tornado
an uncontrollable reaction
that doesn’t fit the supposed crime
and -
even though I know all this
at the moment I’m still mad
a major disagreement because
of all the little tiffs we never had

I think this kettle has had a good brewing
in my intestinal wall it’s been stewing
and now it’s come to the boil
I’ll have to handle things better
talk -
about the niggling stuff
or I’ll never handle a real patch of rough

I’m writing instead of talking to you
digging my heels in, not answering your call
refusing to scale this wall
this wall that I’ve built
maybe if I give it a little tilt
an inch more -
I can’t scale it yet
it’s looming to large on my horizon
I’m not ready to tear it down yet

I’m sorry *** I’m trying
but -
its taken years to build this wall and now its
oh -
so tall
maybe it will mature and stoop
fade into the background
stop tying me in a loop

But not today
I’m sorry
david mungoshi Jan 2016
it seemed she was warm and cuddly
like a lovely song from deep inside
she seemed to be other things besides
and this made him tag along humbly
like a lover sworn to love in eternity
yet drowning in a flood of hollow tiffs
that shred the serenity of a drowsy day
on an evening when  all things were laid bare
for all and sundry to witness cruel truths
about what never was except in our fancy alone
Brandon Barnett Sep 2015
I held on through your jealousy and fear
your deep insecurities and I held you near
I survived the conversations about the terrible what if’s
silly girls in beach jeans and all the fights and tiffs

all I wanted was a piece of the movie star dream
beauty and money like you only see on the screen
I thought I could cheat the universe if I truly believed
thought if I built us an island you’d never leave

I sat with you and listened to the stories you’ve never told
held your hand and said to go out and be bold
I tried with all of the strength in this body to inspire you
bragged about your glow and hoped you know I desire only you

I can’t hand you happiness or I’d send it to your shore in bottles
I can’t stop your pains or slow the hurt when you push the throttle
there are no more ways for me to prove what I already have
no ways for me to glue back together the two of us you’ve halved

I can’t undrink the bottles or unyell the words or light the dim rooms
there’s no way for me to bake the cake with a wax bride and groom
now I’m slipping into the darkness where you tucked us away
and I’ve run out of words to say because you’re about to throw us away

I’m about to lose my love to the same person that said it would always stay
I crumple and I tarnish because you’re about to throw us away
Aditya Roy Oct 2018
Love's a game
In the beginning
But ends
Pretty quickly

Hate's a responsibility
To take sides
Against the enemy
Love brings out the winner. Hate brings out the loser.
Only love is not enough for a lasting relationship,
You need to let out a pinch of anger,
A bagful of care,
With a cup of sorrow and a drum of happiness,
Sprinkles of tiffs,
And most important is tons of trust and communication.
20/9/2024
Salmabanu Hatim May 2018
Eyes closed, a passing view,
Sparks flickered and grew,
A huge screen of thoughts,
Cities of desires,mountains of fancies aloft,
Sketches drawn, designs,nuances of the past,
Reel by fast.
I writhe, smile and sigh
As a story forms,seen only by I,
Loved ones already dead,
With some, friendly tiffs  I had,
Broken hopes,cast away wishes,
Some people I know,love and laugh recedes,
Bad omens, angels, fairies,slumber disturbed,
Little misdemeanours, reminices uncurbed.
I dream on,build castles of thoughts,
Sometimes I no nought what about.
And when I awaken,
All of a sudden,
I feel I have been possessed by a demon,
But fresh from sleep in the morn,
It's like I have returned from heaven.
When can we joke about our anger
And together lovingly remember
The time you left home in a huff
And were forced to return home with a laugh
Limping and with a long walk’s sore leg too
Because in anger you wore my oversized shoe!
When can we joke about our bitterness
And together lovingly remember
The day I told you on your face
And you left midway in your dinner
Saying on the street you would rather roam
Than ever having a meal at home!
When can we joke about our past tiffs
And together lovingly remember
The times our anger scaled the cliffs
And on our home hang a heavy weather
Where you and I drifted apart like islands
With tear laden hearts and desolate hands!
Sam Steele Apr 2021
When duty called, I had to go, around the world to roam
But part of me is miles from here because it stayed at home
Where ere you be remember this, whenever you feel blue
Although I may be out of sight, my heart remains with you

With war my mind is busy, but my soul cannot forget
So every day that I’m away the things I most regret
Is how I can’t be close to you, where our vows we could renew
And I could tell you heart to heart, I’m still in love with you

I want to wake up near you and to feel your warming glow
I miss the little tiffs we have, one says yes and one says no
I like the odd occasion when I kiss you just by chance
And the times that we meet eye to eye with a little sideways glance

I want to sit beside you in the shade of some big trees
The chance to whisper little things that really are a tease
Or discuss our weekend options irrespective of the choice
Just because it gives an extra chance to listen to your voice

Instead I sit here by myself and I'm longing for the day
That I can finish up this work and finally get away
Returning to the partner and the love I know is mine
Then I can hug you with my arms instead of in a rhyme
der kuss Oct 2020
and i find your dreams are troubled again, our mother,
      our saviour, ave regina
  but you put on a composed smile, little darling,
bright and clear,
like skies in june, goddess of athena

oh - i know, i know, you shed tears too, you found your hair is falling out!
your limbs are limping, and you don't have any tickets to escape the town,
                  to the motherland, or the seven seas, where you belong
           and look, now, we are fighting the same war
this massive isolation, deafening silence,
                       repugnant confusion
  see, where's your god now?
                            you sighed to the heavens although you know it's wrong

we are in the same isolation,
       i am with my quilt and quill
               and you are with the moon, your man of dreams,
    comfort of homes
          and the world is frail, darling, it's on fire
and this is what i see:
            things diminishing,                   disheartening

and despite the tiffs, despite the madness,
            i'll tell you this: you have all that i want.
   take it all, i said, risk it all
and he did risk it all, and for you, it was never an afterthought,
                         and that is something that i foresaw but i was never prepared for

you have sadness as big as the world, sitting on your shoulders,
     and i have mine fits perfectly in my grasp,
        but i want yours
          i don't know everyone's battle zone, in my whole life i only know mine
                 but what you have is something that was a part of mine, whose body and soul was pervading my body, who owns this poetry, fire of my frigid, frail soul
and i want your sadness so big that it destroys me,
     and so we can always forget what we have in hands

            and i wish you well,
     i never wished you to know the feelings that need to be felt in order to write this
Trod thru three
score orbitz with air
tight (hermetically sealed)
lid on his emotions bare
reft of evincing

concern and/or care
ring forever guarded against
incursions upon fragile as chinaware
psyche foregoing giving
healthy breathing room

never to dare
risk challenging discomfort zones
     skirting, hemming, and hawing
     deliberately averting, shying,
     sidestepping away against

welcoming awkward adolescent
     romantic experience, thus
never playfully trying to ensnare
and/or allowing, enabling,
     and providing gamesome

     opportunities providing willingness
     tubby triangulated ascending
ark hay yick teenagehood,
when deux dozen, foursquare,
nor eighteen candlebox birthdays,

nonetheless hungrily glare
ring with salivating
envy peers that hare
tuff **** did gather
     their rose buds...despite,

     or perhaps because raging
     testosterone overtook coy
     demure lassie tude surrendering,
whence young womanly
     primal urges let machismo insnare

whereat discovering prickly
     "beau" vine love on par
with being a millionaire
despite tiffs that,
     tested one's mettle quickly

     learning the vital lesson
     to turn/beat cutting
edge sword into plowshare
setting the figurative stage,
when feathering one's

nest to prepare
for legal covenant,
     (a death do me part
     binding resolution) endeavoring
     to sustain a lifelong
commitment however difficult and rare.
Trevor Reynolds Mar 2021
Between, their love and hate
I'm caught in the crossfire.
Was I the cause of this anger
Or the product of their desire.
I watch them as they argue
I laugh when they smile.
They take turns to bribe me
When their being nice for a while.
I don't want the candy
Or the last minute gifts.
Just a peaceful loving home
Instead of these constant heated tiffs.
If I've made them this way
Then I’m sorry and sad.
Because I really love them both
As they're my mom and dad.
Rajiv P Bhatia Apr 2021
WINTER WHISPERS
The laugh lines of autumn
Begin to crack
These winter Morning scents
Sprout about and back..

The bald grass shivers
From the morning dew..
The morning rose wakes up
In its own lazy hue...

The local crow too has a sore throat
The flirty sun just seems to float
The fresh baked bun
The ever cheerful nun

I stay warm and smug
In my own vapour
The gigly hen decides
To do its own caper

I yearn to snuggle back
In dreams again
Live my unreal life
Crazy and insane...

This westerly has a cheesy charm
This cold has a soothing balm
Buried deep in tea sniffs
Remember and forget Lover's tiffs

Happy and sad
This winter like none before
Armed with content
Less is more

I wear layers of hope
In my heart again
Smile through the winter chill
& embrace the pain..
Estella Aug 31
The old stumper, vexed by rivers breath,  
Carinated by basant, fallen mould hums  
As footprints dance. Cherished laughter,  
Sprinting legs, shoes in mud—  
Tiffs between friends, rafting,  
And waterfalls submerged,  
The lake reflects like a mirror.  
Cohexed by a fishing rod.
Welcome suggestions and feedback
The Fire Burns Apr 2020
Under gentle hands she is guided,
a listening ear she has confided,
but be aware or sweet nectars trap,
the ending comes with a snap.

I slipped and fell through the veil,
my sailboat has set sale,
yet I was not aboard,
now my soul sadness is poured.

Razored edges, bleeding tears,
trapped inside my selfish fears,
lost in the maze of what-ifs,
the culmination of terrible tiffs.

Understanding in hindsight,
crying drops into the night,
if only's running through my head,
an empty bed, I climb in and dread.

Upon the wind, I take flight,
where will I land, where is my plight,
hopefully fertile fields of green,
and not a dump, defiled, obscene.

— The End —