"whishing" poems
Friday, a day, and today.
Which day is best for Friday?
A Muslim's day and the best day
It is a white and beautiful day.
A Muslim's day and worship day
A gathering day and a Muslim's day
A day for good whishing, a Friday.
A praying day for worldly peace.
It is a beautiful, white day.
Dec 22, 2023
Dec 22, 2023 at 10:22 AM UTC
*I used to believe we were miracles
A gift of the stars above
Yet now my heart grows weary
As I feel the absence of love
The beauty which used to replenish us
The passion which used to revive
Is drowning beneath the anger and lies
I wonder, will it survive?
Such horrible miracles we've become
So deranged and mangled by greed
Is love a shimmer of light in the dark
To which our souls long to lead?
Peace so shriveled and distant
A memory I look upon fondly
A smile so timid, and longing
Whishing that maybe it'd find me*
Aug 6, 2016
Aug 6, 2016 at 10:09 PM UTC
I find tonight I’m too sad to find sleep.
I wish I would have looked before it was too late,
Because it’s too far the times passed and I can’t think
Of anything except I miss you, in this silly way
And it would have been really nice to just hear you say
Goodnight.
And I would have smiled
And said the same thing,
I’d close my eyes and drift to sleep.
Now I’ll be up all night just whishing
I’d have thought to listen.
And hating that I miss you.
Praying to an empty room
That I could for a moment
**** the distance.
Lean into you and whisper
And pretend that even in your silent slumber
You could listen
And you would know I meant it.
Goodnight.
Feb 7, 2013
Feb 7, 2013 at 1:08 AM UTC
Oh, give me my exile and send me away,
For passion is the bed that I lay.
My heart being the star poet,
Creating ideas not so foreign so that,
You can know you are the ink in my pen,
And I cannot create the beauty of words with an “if”, but a “when”.
I will not live in a land that blurs at boarder.
I will make it so that I am love’s hoarder.
But a strange habit, I am specific with my choice,
Desiring but one with an impromptu voice.
As my vice, I will fix you until you can see,
Using my words, you won’t have to read.
They paint pictures of what could be and what will.
Here they overlap. You are my lengthy thrill.
Knowing I should know not to indulge in your eyes or you touch,
Whishing that my hands and heart let me do as much.
Alas, I cannot keep myself from you any longer.
This game of catch will be caught. I will be stronger.
Enough for me, and the both of us. I will speak with conviction and pride.
No longer behind my prose will I wait and hide.
You and I are one in the same. I can see you see it too.
The silence overtakes the city’s traffic. It overlaps and cuts right through.
So in this last moment of silence, I hope you hear what everyone sees.
Vice or not. Scared or distraught. You belong with me.
Nov 1, 2011
Nov 1, 2011 at 7:45 PM UTC
I'm good
most of the time
I'm in control
I'm satisfied, I can feel happines
But sometimes a feeling comes crashing over me
out of nowhere
triggerd
like when you finish a good book
the end credits roll
of a movie all so beautiful
emptiness sitting on your chest so heavily
I can't cry
no release granted
"pain demands to be felt"
my heart breaks, my mind trying to keep up
my heart can't keep up, my mind breaks loose
emptiness
the despair of ficitional characters
familiar but strangers all the same
not real but reality to me
I care for them, being dead inside
"face death, deal with it or lose yourself"
the last page is turned
the story stopped
all are dead and yet alive
in me
not enough room, make way
I try to numb it out to get back in control
whisky burns my lips
smoke scratches my throat
whishing for release
lose it, keep it tucked in forever
though I feel, finally
alive
I want to punish myself
I lose control for good
emotions bundle up to the surface
make up for time lost before
drunk texting
regret in the morning after
I need to express myself
to you, to anyone, get it out
there is no one here
Weltschmerz
pain of the world
all in one
tiny little heart so fragile
I'm made up of stories
My friend can I come over
I'm in that mood again
Feb 22, 2021
Feb 22, 2021 at 2:31 PM UTC
Under Indigo moon
and ****** White sky
I lost myself, one night in July
The wind it did gush
and the stars they did soar
your eye was my eye
your hand was my floor
I thought about you
and I thought about me
how I felt
like a tide
in a whirlpool at sea
The colours did deepen
in that garden of mine
like my deep lucid dreams
that night in July
The months linger on
and the more they do move
I feel myself pulling out
further from you
And the whishing tongue wishes
on Indigo moon
not to drown in July
but to float back to June
Jul 19, 2013
Jul 19, 2013 at 2:04 PM UTC
Of what weight does love hold?
Cosmic gigantic love
Streatching from star to star,
from time to time,
Leaping all barriers,
In an insane hurtle race
Run by rabid contenders,
Frothing at the mouth,
Colidicopes in their eyes
Swirling,
As they clear fence after fence
Hardly catching themselves
As their sloppy foot falls land,
All ankles, knees, wobblingly
catching themselves
Their brains decifering
the confused code
Of signals beamed
from legs heart and stomach
All culminating in this
Borderline
Purposeful looking
Yet unintentional
Floppy mess
For in the sake of their love
, Of some thing that they hope
will make them immortal,
or at least super,
That temporary and basic seemingly
Irrefutable good that one feels in his pit
Expanding them and inflating them till they float
High enough above others
To squintingly look down, into the eyes of those unable to bouey bob above the rest.
Lights flicking on their foreheads so
Even if they don't talk people know
Where they are and how splendid
Their bobbing is.
And let's not kid ourselfs
Look at those two
Out in the dark and deep
The 2 hrtz signal allowing them each
To be sure the other exists
Flashes reveal the hidden expressions
Those times of clarity so sparce
When all you want to do is look at them
For a good long time
Take in the other completely
for in those nights
When all thoughts clump
Turning colours to brownish purple.
An you cannot see the other
to have them help as they so enjoy.
Two distant bleeps of light
Red but none the less visible
To all around
After all I guess they will be serving as warner's, out their on thier own.
What rocks and reefs the will they arbrais
What swells will the brave,
And what will we learn from
watching From shore,
Whishing them luck as the sun rests on the other side, as the white caps tumble, as the clouds roll on overhead.
Its a very wet scenario.
Jun 26, 2016
Jun 26, 2016 at 5:39 PM UTC
Wrote down the words I felt,
that are coming from my heart.
Making wishes on a whishing star
that we'll never part.
I love speding the whole day together.
Your in my dreams at night.
Every word I am saying, I fully mean.
Please hold me tight....
Jul 31, 2012
Jul 31, 2012 at 10:22 PM UTC
Why am I of this generation?
The universe denied me joy
I now hate the world…..
It’s painful enough that I have to drown in this blissful agony
To what extent do I draw the line between hate and love?
Is it possible that I can be free as a dove?
I yearn for freedom like a slave
Because all I do is for life’s sake
No one knows me, the real
Nobody knows my smile, my joy…
The true me that illuminates when the fake pretence is stripped off
I carry hate around as though I depended on it to live
I bear great regrets that have got me whishing
Whishing I had life’s reset button
But then again it’s a wish
Since forever I will perish
I wish I had someone who could listen
And not for once glisten with judgment
I guess my own heart bleeds through paper
As my dark soul moves to the rhythm of my pen
I thought I had it all
But I now realize…. Any minute now…. I might just fall
Can I have a friend who will hold my hand?
I guess the utter silence means pen and paper are forever with me
But dear paper, dear handsome pen…. may ask…
What is it to be human???
Sep 14, 2014
Sep 14, 2014 at 2:46 PM UTC
I remember when you called me and whispered in my ear, sweet words that were heart breaking my tears were filled with fear.
Second’s turned into minutes and with a blink of an eye you had forgot about all those years. Cuddles and Love making look at what pain they have brought dear oh! Dear.
The sun brings light to half of the earth, whilst the other half is dark. What happened to the laughter how can that memory be lost?
I see the problem now there will never be no trust, there will be no more wishes coming out from the whishing ***
Thought my life was beginning now it feels like it’s stopped, the road is not straight it’s all bendy and rough.
The more I think about it! It gets harder its tough Dropped to the bottom were everything seems to stop.
If only Candy Tasted Sweet would the penny have Dropped?
Jidos Reality 15.6.12
Jun 3, 2015
Jun 3, 2015 at 11:39 AM UTC
Our rails embarked
on differing rolls
cast about to
meander through
questionless hovels
weigh-station trials and
points compulsatory
yet gaining steam for
longed assignation
coupling cars on
single track
someday.
The tick tick clack
of each mile
count was to bring
the exodus nearer
to terminal
wrestling the locomotive
to our will
the whishing
as stale air parted
more rapidly to
our rendezvous junction
someday.
Engineer engaged
pauses points
jerk-water halts to
re-fuel re-fresh
re-new re-track
and the miles
tick tick clack
and the tramped
porters too late to see
that each mile passed
was one mile less
for someday.
Sep 26, 2017
Sep 26, 2017 at 8:48 PM UTC
The subtle whishing
Of flowing gasoline
Sets the mood;
An ugly, teal-colored,
German-engineered insect
Rolls up to the pump
Alongside mine.
I note the empty car seat
Cramped in the back
As she steps out,
Her balayage-curls swishing
As she flashes me
A cursory,
Carefree smile.
Grinning stupidly back,
My eyes gloss over;
Déjà vu grips me and
I search my memory
For her face—
The insect scuttles off;
My tank is full.
Apr 17, 2019
Apr 17, 2019 at 2:59 PM UTC
I wrote a poem,
and she smiled,
I went away,
then she cryied,
wishing I was just a bit stronger,
I can't feel you next to me any longer,
what happened,
was it my fault,
that you broke my heart,
or did you know,
that it would stop,
you were my bottle & pills,
now I need to get my mind clear,
whishing I could just go back,
never created a place for you in my heart,
the way you're looking at me is not the same,
what happend,
this was supposed to have a happy end,
but it all ends up the same,
sure you're not the one to blame,
now holding the bottle & pills again,
look I think that's my grave,
would you throw some roses at me when I'm there,
so I could rest there with no shame?
guees not,
you never liked me anyway.
May 2, 2017
May 2, 2017 at 7:20 AM UTC