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Prose Poetry Lost Poems | Prose Poetry Poems About Lost

These Prose Poetry Lost poems are examples of Prose Poetry poems about Lost. These are the best examples of Prose Poetry Lost poems written by international PoetrySoup poets

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Details | Prose Poetry | |

My Farewell

                      If I forget you, would you remember me?
                       If I still love you, would you still love me?
                      
                      If I fall when old, would you lift me up?
                       If I sleep, would you sleep by me?
                      
                          If I run away, would you follow me?
                       But If I stay, would you stay with me?
                     
                        If I see you, would you recognize me?
                               I know you would Not.
                        
                           That is why, I wish I would whisper 
                               And not hear myself. 
                         
                                   I wish I could cry 
                                   not feel my tears
                                    nor feel my fears.
                               Tonight, my final Farewell.
                  
                                     Therese Bacha
                                     24 August 2014


Details | Prose Poetry | |

ON THE WAVES OF LOST MEMORIES

    


   ON THE WAVES OF LOST MEMORIES…

These salted memories tell stories
The oceans and seas gave birth to.

Over the tempestuous waters
Echoes from the bellies of slave ships
Ride the tides of history

Spreading ripples over the shores
Of time proclaiming forgiveness
For lost souls.

We sashay along bleached beaches 
Where white sands mask the shed blood;
And splashing waves drown out
The ghost echoes of rattling chains:

We no longer remember
Our beginnings here.


Details | Prose Poetry | |

BEAUTY IN THE EYES OF THE BEHOLDER

Beauty is in the eyes of the beholder
It’s a common saying that is decoded from the look of a man
But of a truth, genuine and true beauty is beyond what the eyes can see
Only the heart can feel it
It glows with such power, even the ‘blind’ will perceive
Regardless of our status, rich or poor
Aboriginality, the language or cultural background
We all can see and perceive this inner beauty with the same view
One advice for my fellow brothers,
Always by pass the look go straight inward
And from the inward, outward appearance can be well appreciated
And advice for everyone
As you take time to make up the physical beauty
Create more time to nurture the inner one
For when you are inwardly ugly
The outward projection is nothing but a fake 

(c) 2010


Details | Prose Poetry | |

Ambitious Girl

Ambitious Girl, your ideal for me

We living in a fake world, but you kept it real for me

Your drive is driving me crazy

Steering me to your direction,


crashing into your heart like I'm drunk doing 180

Make-up, you don't need it boo

Your beauty is a reflection of GOD and the image on the screen

You don't feed into


I love how your determined to follow your dreams

Be the next star on the movie screen

Not focused on material high price jeans at the venue

I love the genes thats in you

Love what you aspire to be, you inspire me

To do the same


You getting older so you don't have time for the games

These other girls can't even fathom your imagination

They show off ass, you showing off your aspirations

I'll be there for your graduation, you got all this passion waiting

My last one didn't have what your packing which is fascinating

I can tell you love the thrill of the chase

Don't smoke but these drinks you willing to chase

To have the pain erased, still hold that smile on your face

Your spirit can't be replaced


While you logging into school, in your dorm

Your honey to these niggaz who B ready to swarm

 I'm here to help motivate,

My heart is a home for you so you'll 4ever have a place

To rest

From the Stress

From MD to wherever, our mutual respect will connect- GQ


Details | Prose Poetry | |

GONE Anna Lo PH

? ...GONE... ?

I never knew until that moment how bad it could hurt
To lose someone you never really had,
Days can be tough and at times cruel
To much for one to bear alone..

I was hoping that you would say
If I feel that I can't hold on any longer,
You'll take my hand and we'll go through it until together.
When the time comes, that if I can't stand on my own again
And I won't need you anymore, I will let go.
I will let go, if that would make you happy..

If you're lonely and your heart feels empty, 
Just tell me and I will step inside.
But if One Day, you'll be needing that space for someone else
Don't worry and gladly I will give in my space..

Like in a painful, sad love story
It's amazing how easily to fall inlove with someone,
Who simply smiles, talks or stare at you
The only hard thing to do is to make that person fall for you.
They say that time heals all wounds, but all it's done so far
is give me more time to think about how much I miss You..

Okay, so maybe time heals most wounds, right?
Then why does it feel like it?
The wound is getting bigger and bigger every second.
Maybe Love is just a beautiful dream, and then we wake up..

Just as they always say when somebody leaves
When love is lost, do not bow your head in sadness,
Instead keep your head up high and gaze for the stars.
For that is where broken hearts have been sent to heal..

What is the opposite of Two?..
...A lonely me, A lonely You...

They say relationships are like glass 
That sometimes it's better to leave them broken
Than risk hurting oneself in trying to put it back together.

Lost in my heart, lost in my mind, I'm lost in your eyes
Entire days, weeks, months, ...a blur...
Flickers of light in the darkness 
Only to be enveloped in shadow once more.
And yet within the shadows of pain
Might be the faint flicker of love once fel,t
And that could make all the darkness worthwhile
Because a single "I Love You"
Is worth more than a thousand goodbyes..

I'm tired my Beloved.. 
of chafing my heart against the want of you,
Of squeezing into little inkdrops and writing it.
Ask me why I keep on loving you
When it's clear that you don't feel the same way for me.
The problem is that as much as I can't force you to love me
I can't force myself to stop loving you..

So I tell myself sometimes..
'Count the gardens by the flowers, never by the leaves that fall.
Count your life with smiles and not with tears that roll." ..

Though sometimes, these tears say all there is to say
And the scars don't ever fade away,
I am thankful that for a moment
I once met You, I once felt you look my way.
I once felt You within me, in my heart and mind
I once was happy and alive with You
I once Loved you and still Loving You... xoxo

P.S ..KYHYCYILY.. always.. ? ? ?

(re-edited letter)


Details | Prose Poetry | |

In the Meadow

Two travelers with different destinations, we met before our paths diverged, and in that span between our first encounter and subsequent farewell, we read in one another’s eyes a wanderlust that took us off our track. We found ourselves in a meadow of grass seemingly never trodden on before, where we became as two breezy joyous children, frolicking dizzily around the wildflowers that became our world. Racing each other up a knoll, we finally and breathlessly tumbled into one another’s arms, growing silent as we gazed into each other’s eyes beneath a sky of blue. Rapture soon discovered us that glorious day in the meadow. . . Later, a nearby river enticed us with its rushing sound, so we followed it. Coming to its end, we saw the sky grow black and tried to find our way back to our first spot of discovery and enchantment. Instead we wound up back on the common path where we’d first met, parting ways as a sudden rain’s downpour veiled my view of your departure. Every now and then I stop and wonder if you ever came across a place again that could compare to the rapture of our time in the meadow.


Details | Prose Poetry | |

THE RAIN by Anna Lo P

"As I watch the blue skies
 Suddenly turned into gray
 Darkness easily surrounds 
 Their clouds, covered in haze.

 The rain will fall again, I say
 A nature's moment I dismay
 Raindrops will soon touch the ground
 The sad feeling, again I'll be hound.

 Splattering rain, the sound that haunts
 Sweet and sad memories of the man
 Taunting me to remember once again
 The love once lost, never be back again

 Every drop of rain that falls, I pain
 Each drop it falls, my heart is in vain
 "Try to listen" to the rain, he once said
 'Tis like a last goodbye, could not hear I said. 

 The sound of the crying heart, I still hear
 The sound of a weeping soul, I can hear
 The silent tears that they weep,
 The silent scream that echos so deep.

 Listen to every drop of rain
 To it's agony, vain, pain, 
 Listen to the rain as it falls, maybe
 There is your love, every drop after all...xoxo


Details | Prose Poetry | |

LOST

Being lost seems to be my only option these days
Confusion appears to outweigh common sense in my life
My ability to reveal truth from lies has wreck havoc on my brain
I now strive to train my thoughts to linger in limbo
Never truly desiring to leave
This is now my fortress my solitude
Fear/Despair/Lies/Failure
As I clutch my razor and feel the etching of the sharp metal
I’m forced to think back to a time when
I had a dream, had a plan, had a voice
Now all I have is just a corner 
Not even my corner
As my peripheral view is constantly reminded of
Your pathetic attempt to hold on to the past
To a woman that I’m sure was drowning as am I
In the room of torture, clutter and stale air
She has now become my hero
Because she mustered enough strength 
To run and start anew
New this sounds foreign to me
My tongue has difficulty allowing 
The syllables to dance off my lips, mouth
I have to stop and regain my composure
Hope is something of the past
Hope is no longer associated with me
I now live in a corner stationed between
Past & Despair
Robotic movements mimic life
But as you approach you stand to smell
The vile carcass of my flesh slowly dying
Despair is my friend
Past is my new position in life
I had peace, love and happiness once
I felt it flee each and every time I
Entered your suffocating presence
Mister Kill Joy you have successfully
Accomplished your task of
Killing Me!!!!


Details | Prose Poetry | |

I Disappear

wake up to serendipity
ignorant and unknown
shaken and not stirred
blond can be bond

Reality, metaphor and cliche
cheesy juvenile decay
Love, care and hate
past the use by date

of fights and torment
and well deserved lament
salute to the solitary reaper
with Metallica... I disappear


Details | Prose Poetry | |

Angel with a Broken Wing

Sitting alone again, wondering if you're okay.
being alone, i remembered how i wanted you to stay.
looking for something I can hold on to.
It's the pillow that reminds me of you.

Every time the clock ticks,
I would always find a way to entertain myself &
hoping i can do some magic tricks.
before i close my eyes & go to sleep,
every night , i hope, i can be w/ you for just a glimpse.

every time it rains, i would always go outside,
but i guess no one would like to hold my hand & be by my side
I touched my face & i was already crying under the rain.
will there be someone willing to cast away all this pain?

until now, no one would risk,to wipe off these tears.
The shadow of my past, well those are my fears.
i always want to hide myself from this world's madness.
I often feel that I'm inside a bubble or in a dark sanctuary,
where there is sadness.

I hope there will be a wishing star that will pass by.
I'll make another wish,to find the guy who cant make me cry.
i sat at the corner of my room, and in my hand, was a ring,
a question that even i cant answer,
"will i forever be waiting like an Angel w/ a broken Wing"?


Details | Prose Poetry | |

Last memory

Bathed by the ocean blue 
There came a thought…
And it was solely of you.
How you’d dance across the night sky
With palms and the waves, waving good bye
With hopes and lights
All lost and wandering the night
Not at all lost…
But not at all found
I’ve wandered these towns…
I’ve wandered these thoughts,
Where has the time gone by?
No longer you dance…
No longer you play…
Just sit there in the sand
By the oceans nice bay
Dream with me tonight
Dream with me of all the things we once would do
Come back to life…
Just once…
Dance with me one last time
Beside the oceans blue
Come back to life…
Give me one last memory of you


Details | Prose Poetry | |

Love In Reverse

My love, were you as steadfast as I,
We'd drive the neverending chain 
link
of a bond unbreakable and rev 
towards
the fever of a solidified love affair.
Yet, I ride alone in despair and pass
scenes of you falling out of love with 
me.
From our last I love you to our first 
hello,
I see the twinkle in your eyes fade 
for me.

And of all reasons to brake for 
break,
you change gears with good intent...
And I find that to be the most 
painful.
Knowing, that I alone was not 
enough
to heal your fractured sense of self...
A failure I shall regret until I unlearn
my first memory...
For to have known you, is the one 
ride
of my thoughts that contained pure 
freedom.
Now, they fade in the wind shield as 
I
do 100 to 0 in the lane of smitten 
wonder.

And should I be able to forget the 
best of you,
I pray by moonlight that reverse 
becomes
forward, and I can catch your smile 
in my
dreams without knowing your face 
again.
Just an image of an unknown 
purpose that
lives around the corner of time and 
patience.
It is there, on this blind faith avenue, 
that I
 will carry you back home from the 
life we 
never had the chance to live...


Details | Prose Poetry | |

Things fall apart

i wake up every morning
 questioning my entire existence
 they say i must be persistent 
 but i ask myself is god really present or absent
 you folks say to make it i have to be obedient

Things fall apart
 friends became enemies
 gravity seems to be my worst enemy
 all my plans seems to be rearranged
 things i wanted to establish and accomplish
 have perished and vanish
 they say the world is round 
 and yet i think is a square
 so many hurts we get from 
 corners here and there

Things fall apart
 the sky is covered with a dark cloud
i try to speak but my voice is not loud
i tried to blend in the crowd
 but i always standout
 all my brothers are school dropouts
 my sister works as a checkout girl
 they said heavens gate was built to keep me out
 moments like this i ask God's whereabouts

Things fall apart 
 Just as we say things are getting better
 sweeter and tastier, they turn sour and bitter
 the sky just fall in the middle of a storm
 the trees are unfruitful
 the rivers are dry
 our crops in the field are devoured before harvest time

my eyes are all red and swollen
 from the tears that shed
 my mothers knees are red from 
 kneeling down and praying for a miracle
 her knuckles are frozen from knocking on heavens door
 her voice is all cranky from shouting
 hoping god can hear her

Things fall apart
 mom lost her job
 daddy got retrenched at his
 grandma has a disease that has no cure
 soon she will departure
 to the heavens above
 relatives have turned into strangers
 rags and shreds cover my body
 my little sister singing
is my rhapsody of reality
 as we stand firm together in unity.


Details | Prose Poetry | |

Mama's Song

I wander through my journey, interspersed with joy and pain, always grateful 
Though not by choice, some days are somber; yet others follow with abundant joy
In my solitude, memories come alive with the recall of some old song from another time
When life was carefree in everyway! No worries and not one care!
First heard as a child; the title now lost to me, so I’ll call it "Mama’s Song"
It’d start off soft and slow; its rhythm smooth, graceful, incredibly beautiful!
Then lingering on my mind, gently reviving memories lost somewhere in yesterday
It’d calm my spirit, take me away- away from countless, mundane tasks
All necessary things, but they arrest my days, imposing, threatening, vying for attention

There’s a constant battle that rages within, and I often ask, “Should I lay down this burden  
of joyless pursuits which hinder valid expressions from my heart?  Should I?
And to what profit?  Surely monetary gain is a necessity, but at what cost to my spirit??
Were I guardian only to myself, I’d simply choose to live lean somewhere by the sea
I would cast my net for food, and barter for grain and herbs.  However, the compass is set
So, I escape in the melodies, with my eyes closed, and fly high, above this terrain
Sailing on the massive wings of a Condor, unafraid; over rugged pathways and
Jagged edges of mountains that rise above the seas, far away from this place of constant 
weariness, on my way to a place more tranquil, somewhere in yesterday
I hover over rivers that give life to green valleys below, quite an amazing view to see!
Like black velvet ribbons they meander through the changing landscape
At an angle they shimmer like fine crystal in the afternoon sun, and in one breath,
I am there! At Mama’s feet, studying her as she sews dresses for my sisters and me 
I watch, I listen to her, softly singing; feel her contentment and peace through the song
Never complaining, never too tired to go beyond the call, to love and care for family 
Teaching by example, using less words, her quiet spirit, ever steadfast, strong
Those times when I feel I can not go on, when afraid I'll falter, I still hear the the melody 
and "Mama's Song"!

Note:  For Mama - Thank you for putting us first! For the many lessons learned which we nowteach our children.  RIP w/Papa!!


Details | Prose Poetry | |

I Shall Never Love Anyone Like You

I Shall Never Love Anyone Like You


My heart ache as I watch you fall for another.The pain hurt so much I felt sick.I didn't have the courage to tell you my feeling I din't have the courage to tell you what my hearts feels.But  I can't refuse to watch you fall into he hand of another.May i blind myself may i break my own heart may i give relief to the feeling that I had when i could no longer hear your laugh no longer see your smile and no longer feel your touch.To me being alone and feeling nothing is worthless I shall miss what I have lost but this I have done to protect what little shard of my heart remains.You feel another never knowing my feeling for you.but it fine now for I shall never love another like I loved you.


Details | Prose Poetry | |

That Which Is Real

Oh to be just a friend
To laugh, joke and play with you
Is not something
I know how to do
Oh how I wish it were
For it’d sure eliminate
All this pain I feel
Sometimes it happens
That starting off fun
Turns into something real
And what was meant to make you laugh
Turns into tears
That seem to take
Life’s  breath away
Leaving you to feel
Like there’s so much left to say
If only this, if only that
If I only could, if you only would
So many tricks of the mind
As we try to find
Justification for holding on
To what should be freed
So we can move on
Yet we hold out hope
In each accidental hello
That tides will turn
Though they have long washed away
It’s just the way of life
And how love burns
Until we learn
The difference in what we feel
And that which is real


Details | Prose Poetry | |

Winters Freedom

The Sky Wept Unendingly with Snow:

His thoughts in a Frenzied attempt at Normality,
Clung to the idea of a Priceless Freedom.

Striving Forward, splinters of Ice cut and Maimed
Revealed patches of Flesh; Each Sting a Reminder.

A Cascading Avalanche of Memories Swept him
Into the past, amidst Those he Could Remember.

Each, a diminishing aspect of his weakening 
Internal Clock; The Gears, a Rusted Brown.

The Day diminished with him,
His clock struck Twelve.

An Inescapable Crossing of Thin Ice,
Half-Way across, The Gears Halt.

The Ice Gives Way.

The Sky Weeps Unendingly with Snow.


Details | Prose Poetry | |

Memories Will Live

My wax wings and I, in the heat
of love did fly. To touch the heart
in feelings felt, alas a journey
beyond my dreams. As  the wax
drips in tears, I feel the treachery
of loves cruel bite. But would live
that feeling forever and again, for
the moment was paradise filled.
Farewell bliss but remember this,
I am a better man for what I had.


Details | Prose Poetry | |

The Physics of Love

Once, the fairy tale vein do I embrace, once upon a time
in the past not distant, were we the two poles of a magnet-
if you be the South,
me the North Pole.

If I be a flying matter,
You were the gravitational pull.

If I be the water,
You were the wave.

If I be a bridge
You were the pillars under it-
Yoking stasis to dynamics.

Now, as stasis and dynamics are unyoked,
I am all water under the now defunct bridge. 




Details | Prose Poetry | |

Another man's wife

In love I was lost
I plunged headlong
Oblivious of the consequences
For she was fair to behold
E’en fairer than the lily of the garden

She took me by my hand
And together we strolled
We explored the new frontiers of love
My company she greatly adored
Until she couldn’t break free 
From the spell of love
Cast on her by fate
Uhm! It’s amazing what love can do

Damning the consequences
I forged ahead with my newfound love
Paradise was unraveled before me
An adventure of some sort it seemed
“Give it a try,” I urged myself
Shutting my mind deliberately to the odds


For if she had known
Then she wouldn’t have allowed me
Entry into her life
But her actions defies all explanation
Void envelopes her being in my absence
What had suddenly come over her?
In so short a while

When she laughed, I laughed
When I cried, she cried as well
The blissful times we shared were dear
Held close to my heart like a testament
“Could anything be this cherished?” I thought
Life definitely seemed very good

She withdrew at certain times
Not because she was through with me, nay!
But she remembers her Man-the Man
“You cannot understand,” she tells me
“You cannot understand,” she affirms
I am another Man’s wife

Like a thief in the night 
Her man came
The show he stole
For he had cut short his journey
Unannounced he strolled into the scene
After all he owned the show
He assumes his manly duties once again
Giving her love and succor as it were
He was the man, I was a villain

I was soon relegated to the rear
Despondency and dejection became my theme song
Jealousy I spat out like bile
No one would empathize my shattered heart
For I was warned before hand
Not to fall in love with
Another Man’s wife.


Details | Prose Poetry | |

Stained Glass Window

My stained glass image
was a ripe peach 
with spilt Zinfandel
like electric rubies
pooling around a gentle ray.
It was a colour hungering
to weave spirit out of light,
so that all my prism  
touched felt nothing
but the energy of day.

Then there was Love,
A star brighter than the sun,
halting Sol Invictus 
and his fiery chariot
before Aphrodite’s temerity.
But Love’s luminosity burned 
a fearful depth of heat
until all my eyes witnessed 
was overexposed film 
begging for clarity.

My stained glass design 
mixed metallic salts
fortified at melting point,
colour forever permanent
to mark my very being. 
You dipped your brush 
on a pallet of your vision
and Trust let you paint over
my very soul, 
creamy light forever fleeing.

Your paint, by the very nature
of it belonging to you,
curator of my love,
fused to my glass
as if cooked in a kiln of fire.
Never could I have believed
you to devise a colour
so terrible and diseased 
that sickness would filter
where light used to transpire.

Stained glass window,
more true the words appear,
But where others fear
I can shatter my own
glass or heart or soul
and clean the tarnish 
by leaving out every piece 
you painted with twisted stroke
and amass myself together
until the colour of my light is whole.  


Details | Prose Poetry | |

She wrote to me

           She Wrote To Me

My secret lover I left you 5 years ago I could not take it anymore I had 
to fill my emptiness without you since I left I would cut out my heart 
every night & in the morning its full again. 
I got married to a rich noble politician thinking I can forget you I made 
myself well known here in London as a musician playing the piano in 
my own theater every night. 

The theater was full the sound of my piano was known to everybody 
living all over London due to my husbands political involvement in the 
area for many years the whole theater would be booked.

My entrance was always approached with loud voices cheering till I give 
the sign of performing .That specific night i was in a very determined 
mood to involve my audience listen to the sound of my piano around 
and everywhere the lights were on me already but no sign to begin 
waiting for another noble to make his entry in the front row.

I was wearing that long dress in black and white strapless the one I had 
worn on our first date doing my best to belong to my audience tonight 
while craving to catch a glimpse of your existence live standing opposite 
me the way we were your place was empty but not in my heart.

The audience were standing up clapping waiting impatiently to listen to 
what they had already known music from the tip of my fingers will allow a pause through their breathing.

The lights dimmed no introduction was needed I was going to play an old
tune from the 80`s called Feelings remember when we danced to that tune I am dedicating this musical evening to you my love my first lover before we were obliged to be separated due to family upbringing.

That same evening tragedy stole my expectations of living a love to 
perform an absolute change of a physical identity a living spirit awaiting 
to be executed when suddenly I collapsed unconscious on stage my fingers 
were numb my blood betrayed my heart. 

It was a heart attack paralyzing me on the left side cure or no cure 
is still unknown that had left me scarred when witnessing my dreams 
shatter in disrepair.
I have been forced retirement at a prime age left with no choice 
hide behind the shadows of the twilight abdicate my thrown 
to an unknown.

Escape was a forgotten word before this chute as an invalid carcass today 
my escape to the cottage was essential maybe a celestial miracle would prevail.

The cottage by the deep sea will become my quarantine from what was an enlighten world to a world of darkness, my retirement was a runaway from 
the mockery of mankind who might disperse my dissipated soul.

My shutters are unclosed as their usage was worthless brightness 
obscurity made no difference to me in that room.
The ocean view struck me by its calmness, huge waves were 
not prepared to release their passion and splash on the shore to bring 
forth their own melody.

I went for a walk walking like in a dream a dream with no feelings of body 
and soul the moon provided me to detect another lonely shadow of a stranger yet this time it was the shadow of a lost fish wavering on the sand nearly lifeless, our eyes met needed to be rescued I said to myself even not feeling my withered hand I bent down kindly carried it and threw it back to life what a wonderful sensation. You will do that to me my darling, I will wait.

My decision to escape to the un inhibited cottage was a knowledgeable 
step as only seclusion and spiritual wounds would heal to prompt a new attitude that will lessen my sorrow inspire my moral to long for 
a tomorrow differing than a yesterday. 

Stand by me today, my awakening will hoist a sparkling light of recovery 
during this long coming journey. Intentionally I am your free woman.
Here I will sleep now until destiny will allow both of us to cure and leave our fears behind with our past, together venture back to where we belong. 
I loved you and still love you. Me!


Therese Bacha
6/3/2013


Details | Prose Poetry | |

FREEZING POINT


The river flowing tumble of snow 
jackets the buildings and the road 
on the last twilight of 1998. 

As the sky is slowly draped by darkness and coolness, 
there I am on the coldest loneliest walk of my life.

All around, I can see some dancing colored lights.
The houses spells the happy shadows of families. 
Some sharing a meal.
Some laughing out loud near their Christmas tree.
Some on the middle of a party.

Christmas carols flying free on mid-air like:

"...But heaven surely knows
That packages and bows
Can never heal a hurting human soul..."

With only a coat, long thick black hair kissed by snow
and some old worn socks to warm me,
I traverse the street-- 
finding, finding a place I can call home.

About six days ago... I was also with my parents,
so happy, though we only share some bread and cheese
plus porridge that Christmas day. 

Me and my parents hugged every night
allowing me to stand the icy nights of December 
under the roof of our wooden worn-out home.

My parents though they can't read nor write, 
they diligently work day by day for our needs specially mine. 
I wasn't given any gift nor we can't everyday eat some meat.
However, my days with them are filled with fun-loving memories.

Not until...

a monstrous fire eat voraciously 
our home and three other houses nearby.
My father though old with arthritis 
carried me fast as he can to a safe place
and so my mother but --- 
father ran back to the house 
to save some of our things but unfortunately...
The roof of our home fell.
The fire so ferocious swallowed everything including my father.

My mom and I dealt with this pit of tragedy as one 
but later I saw my mother slowly, slowly crumbling down.
She more than me is slowly falling down faster. 
Her lamp of hope blown out. 
And not long, past six on the same day my mother died.

Hence as the surrounding gets cold 
so is the the life of me gradually reaching the freezing point.


---------------------------------
***Inspired by the story: The Little Match Girl by H.C. Andersen
and with some lines from the song: "My Grown Up Christmas List" by K. Clarkson

©O. E. Guillermo
Sponsor	Debbie Guzzi 
Contest Name	A Christmas Tale
Placed 2nd


08:33 pm, December 17, 2014






Details | Prose Poetry | |

BROKEN HEART

She is like a tree dancing in the wind,
her love is like tree leaves that's blown
away in the dust.
My love for her is not her only trust,
she liberates her flesh for lust to enter.

I cried for her love when she is gone,
she sunk like the sun in the west
as the evening creeps in.
I am like a cloud hovering over
her face sinking in the sea.

She rises again at dawn to smile
on a fresh new day for me.
Love me no more O My darling of woe!
Your love invade my soul and then
you vanish like the wind.

Come back to me and tell me your false
love story,
your name is now written as my fading history.
I am the wind coming in the rain,
you are the sea on the shores of my destiny.
Come back my love and embrace me with a kiss,
for our love to grow for you to dance like the
tree in the wind once again.


Details | Prose Poetry | |

LOST SOULS MEET AGAIN

The spring is coming in a slow pace,
But I can sense something in the air,
Something coming out of nowhere,

I stood in front of the elevator on the third
floor in a nice old hotel,
Going to a small diner with friends,
Some nice food and wine to fill my soul with
love,

The door opened, and I saw a man inside,
Thinking how I must have lost my mind, after
so many years, it can’t be You,

And I stood frozen, and You stood frozen,
Until the grey metal doors closed and brought
me back from the Universe of lost souls,

I run downstairs to stop you leave,
Seeing unfamiliar faces, seeking for you - my
ghost from the past,
While You pushed the elevator button many
times, screaming loudly: go up, third floor,
now, go, move… Is it her, or I’m loosing my
mind?

And the doors opened, but nobody was there,
You couldn't find me- your lost love, your
ghost from the Universe of lost souls.

I screamed, You screamed,
We screamed in an erupting pain so the whole
Universe can hear us,
Could it be that we lost each other again?

I took the stairs and went up,
I could feel how our pain reunites,
I could feel that a lost soul is shouting three
floors above,

And I saw You on your knees staring in the
elevator doors,
And You felt my presence coming from
behind,
You felt my steps getting closer,
And You stood up,
Seeing tears coming from my eyes,
While I touched yours going through your
face,

We didn't say a word,
But our minds were talking,
We didn't say a word,
But our eyes were walking us through our
history together,

We didn't say a word,
But our hands....
Our hands united,
Our souls united breaking these cold hotel
walls,
Breaking the ice around our harts,
Breaking the past,
Amusing the whole Universe of lost souls!


Details | Prose Poetry | |

The Rose Garden

      They say there is a rose garden that blooms inside us now and again.
I remember how your breath was so sweet I wanted to swallow it
Whole – gobbling up your gasping wind – to drown my screaming
Passion, ignited by your soft molasses coated tongue, with the scent of rose
Blossoming inside me, where my blood rushed your love home – yes!
      Later I thought how strange it was, that it could last for so long, with me, 
Still breathing after you had left – for three days – I was exhaling your fumes! 
But, that memory was not distressing, no! Mildly hallucinogenic; it was swirling	
There in my blood, like the alcohol that washes away your scent – sometimes – 
Life is like searching a beer garden for a bottle of aphrodisiac potion you’ve lost.
      What’s more troubling is that all the other flowers continue to bloom.


Details | Prose Poetry | |

A Lost Soul

~ To My Brother~

When I live in the darkness for days and nights I don't 
envisage to write a poem,but here I am crying over
the loss of my brother who died on Easter Sunday,
I stopped allowing my roses to come and sit by my side,
I left them those dozens of exotic colors to die,
I don't throw them away my living room with the china 
vase looks dead,even the colors have faded away,I watch 
my China table its on the verge of closing on itself,
just to get away not to breath from my grieving air.

Tonight I am in pain,my vision is overflowing with
endless tears,I am alone because my brother left me 
and went away,he didn't even say goodbye,I didn't hear 
him cry or even try to live as he knew he had to go away 
in silence,carrying with him his lung cancer disease.
 
He died alone on a hospital bed his heart betrayed him 
Why,he was still young 70 is not old,what was he feeling
we will never know,was he afraid,was he sad,was he 
suffering,he was screaming they told me out of pain,
he was struggling maybe wanting to remain alive to 
come back to see us at least one more time before his 
final breath will give up on him,was he delusional 
the whole morning till 6 30 PM when his soul became
muted,sad,as God wanted him to join his late brother 
mother and father.

My pain is not only I miss him,its in what state of mind he 
was in when he gave up, we will never know.
This endless emptiness he left behind will linger forever. 
Now only I can wish you a goodbye.My children & I
Will always Love you.


Therese Bacha 
14/4/2013


Details | Prose Poetry | |

Sitting On The Grass

Young man sitting next to me 
on the grass,
 I asked him,
If I am depressed can you help me?
I heard his voice, 
I will expect you to feel alive and
never look back, 
go on with your life when 
I'll bring you back home,
and will never leave 
you alone.

When I am chilly young man?
 will you cover me with your coat 
protect me from thunder and rain?
I will carry you under the tree
shield you till the sunrises.

Young man, I lost everything 
and I am trying to survive,
 will you help me? 
I will reason with you 
as some things in life are made
not to last forever.

Young man if I am crying 
as I live daily only as an image,
walking dead as a tool 
which makes me feel 
like a fool?
 I will wipe your tears
 & embrace you, search
for a way to please you,
and make you proud
of who you are.

Young man if I need a friend 
how will you help me? 
I will befriend you forever,
lean towards sharing, 
consent to create a harmonious
 lovable atmosphere ,
till you sense never
be solo again.

Young man if I want to kill myself?
 as my injuries can never heal,
it's my soul's wounds?
what will you do? 
I will forbid you to do that,
but enforce you to predict 
your happiness,
use your vigor to promote
 your emotions,
 steal success,
 and throw away failure. 
Acknowledge your age 
to improvise
what is best for you,
 as looking backwards 
can have an impact 
on your life.

Young man,
 I need my children
I live in agony, an era
 that seems seamless 
without them,
inform them to grab me away
as my heart is heartless,
unstable. 
Beg them to stand by,
 pick up the broken pieces
before it is irreparable.
Will you do that for me
young man?
Yes, I guarantee
they will rescue you,
before dawn.

My friend young man
get me off the grass, 
walk me to the bank,
please. 

Arrived at the bank 
holding his hand, 
she asked the teller,
 bring out my
  last 20$.
 
This is for you,  
to thank you for sitting
 on the grass with me.
 Young man, your image
will be engraved in my
thoughts, forever.


 Therese Bacha
    17/3/2014


Details | Prose Poetry | |

Edinburgh without You

The clouds are drifting away
with the seagulls' fading shadows.
Bach's music, a deep step to eternity.
Abandoned  I, 
a deep stroke to my heart,
when you left.
A wide step to infinity.
Un jour triste por le voyager.
How is it possible that one day 
could pass even quicker
than an entire year?
To meet you, was it accidently,
was it just luck or perhaps destiny?
Now Edinburgh remains grey again
without you.
And colours washed out in the rain.
Princess Street remains dark 
and in shadows.
Only my thoughts are with you,
freed from a desolate enclosure.
I myself  feel like a cloud,
drifting away with the wind
and into the sea


Details | Prose Poetry | |

Be Still

And the westerly wind,
Will blow a sea of waving grass
And the sea's fine mist 
Will breathe drops like dew
And the sinking suns
Will cloak the sky's horizon
And the moons of Autumn
Will beckon the golden fertililty of the harvest
And the violet tinged edge of night
Will cry for the white bursting of the stars
And the carved thrust of the mountain range
Will challenge the forever yielding blue
And the hovering tunes of the dawn's awakening
Will mimic the lullaby of my dreams
Rise