Shadowed in the silent room, the daylight's nearly gone
Dusk climbs in through window glass, with one last ray of sun
I start the task, climb on a chair, reach up to shelves so high
to mother's boxes neatly stacked, and dust gets in my eyes
I take one down, to look inside and sit upon a chair
I find some musty linens, laces needing some repair
Discovering old photographs, the year was '42
Her face was smooth as porcelain, unblemished, young and new
Old documents and letters, a history unveiled
Her letters, torn and yellowed, such stories they would tell
The next box held small china cups, so lovingly embellished
And then I found a book of verse, inscribed with poems she relished
Some dresses stained and wrinkled, their fabric thin and tattered
Were once a thing of beauty, as if they really mattered
Her jewelry, gold and silver, some lovely rings and brooches
A warm sensation circles me, her presence now approaches
I sense a change come over me, and fleeting leave of gloom
The darkness of the evening lifts, as sunlight fills the room
She wraps her warmth around me, her fragrance in the air
My loneliness is free to go, I know that she is there
Among these things, I find the last, the smallest box of all
Inside it are the baby clothes, I wore when I was small
A letter there to tell me that she knows the tears I've cried
Her words of love that never died, they fill me up inside
These treasures speak her words to me, and now that I am grown
She wants to tell her story, those parts I've never known
I've heard her voice, while sitting here, among her china flowers
I"ve found such peace, she's next to me, to spend these quiet hours
Submitted to Contest: "Old Jewelry or Just Old Things or Old,
Old Poems/Poetry Contest "
Sponsor: Broken Wings
Copyright © Carrie Richards | Year Posted 2008
stars twinkled brilliantly
against majestic snow-capped mountains,
delicate pure white flakes danced;
swirling, twirling, rhythmically.
she stood, nose pressed tightly
against the window pane; gazing in awe
at the magic the snowflakes created;
as tears spill from her emerald green eyes.
the cabin is warm, radiating a comforting glow
a fresh pine scent lightly sweetens the air;
she fights the memories, as she begins to shake.
fingers entwined, she tries desperately to hang on
be present in the moment;
"stop, stop, stop" she says, stomping her feet;
she falls to her knees; quivering.
she holds tightly her arms and begins to rock,
feeling his presence in his favourite black sweater;
she cannot bring herself to take off.
giggling sounds permeate her thoughts
cocooned in his aura, his essence, his scent;
she feels his lips kiss the nape of her neck,
his strong hands caressing her hair.
she rocks and rocks, time ceases to stop,
as she falls deep into a rich
moulton pool; his smouldering brown eyes.
her lips part; barely into a smile at
his joy when he surprised her with the cabin;
their oasis away from home.
she wipes away a tear, beams from within
as she recalls the snowball fight, he lost, she won.
he scooped her up, carried her with glee,
over the thresh hold of their cabin;
their oasis; their heart's retreat.
a decadent white rug bought just for her
lay invitingly in front of the fire,
fiery orange embers crackled and glowed.
he gently laid her down; "my beauty" he said.
they drank champagne, drunk in each other,
wrapped up in his care, she felt peace.
as they lay basking in winter's afterglow,
he whispered "this is my time, i must go".
startled, she sat up, staring deep in his soul,
as snowflakes twirled and danced,
fresh pine lightly sweetened the air;
he breathed one final breath; then he let go.
her screams were not audible, her body convulsed
as she lay on his chest; her heart; her home.
she cursed the night and winter's afterglow
sobbing "not him, not him, please take me too".
she fights to bring herself back
to the here and the now,
as embers slowly dim, she wobbily stands
clutching tenderly his urn, she must set him free.
the stars twinkled brilliantly
against majestic snow-capped mountains
she opens the window, where dreams breathed of life;
with tears cascading
she releases her love; her life;
to become one
with the magic of;
Copyright © Lynn Marie | Year Posted 2006
Walking aimlessly through the woods
Searching for that spot we once stood
Pouring out my heart and my tears
Reliving memories of those special years
Red and orange and purple from green
Rich autumn colors, a sight to be seen
The winds of change quickly blowing in
With it a new chapter will soon begin
Not ready to give up, I can't let go
Where am I headed, where will I blow
Lost without you, what am I to do
Darling, my heart is still beating for you
Copyright © Tim Smith | Year Posted 2014
They flutter and hover
And float on the breeze.
They shiver and shimmer
And weaken the knees.
Fickle and fragile,
They tickle and tease.
Fleeting and flimsy,
These frivolous creatures,
These knots of desire.
Once spindles of yearning,
Now spools of barbed wire.
Once pulling like petals,
Now pricking like briar.
Once soothing like honey,
Now burning like fire.
It struggles to rise.
The truth comes up gasping
From whirlpools of lies.
Shed this charade
And discard your disguise.
I know you enjoy
Drowning blind butterflies.
Copyright © Heather Ober | Year Posted 2012
I wiped away a single tear
That had fallen from my eye
(You told me simply we were friends)
You left me after only a year
(But you conceal your aching heart)
I often sit and ask myself why
Looking back on our time together
I remember those halcyon days
(My love for you it never ends)
I thought we’d be together forever
(You told me simply we were friends)
Now memories are a fading haze
Your hair so dark with eyes of brown
(Dreaming of you my heart ascends)
So full energy with a sense of fun
(Forbidden love keeps us apart)
Always happy you were never down
We’d go out together and have a run
(You told me simply we were friends)
You’d always reward me with a soppy kiss
(But you conceal your aching heart)
I’ll never forget the day you got knocked over
Never a day passes when you I don’t miss
How I loved my darling dog Rover
Do You Love me – Triolet ~09~26~14
How I miss you Rhyme - 09~22~14
Contest - Intermingled – Craig Cornish
Copyright © JAN ALLISON | Year Posted 2015
Loss of more
Not only did I lose you, but more,
my life’s being to fulfil awareness,
in years to come with further to adore,
as reflections of your beauty’s fairness.
Like a quartet’s melodious accord,
wanting was the togetherness of four,
a dream to beseech love’s greatest reward;
continuation of life’s chain restore.
Ornaments of beauty to give life worth,
new flowers to blossom as future holds,
in the dreams of tenderness, love’s rebirth;
but alas once more the heartache unfolds.
For a brittle heart agony befall,
in an outcast state, loss of more than all.
For contest: JP Contest 5 FEELINGS
Sponsor: Jamie Pan
Copyright © Teppo Gren | Year Posted 2017
I met my future on a radiant July morning. There I was, resting on a weathered oak bench under my favorite willow in the heart of Paris, treecreepers and warblers scratching and pecking at the soft grass for the crumbs of bread that I graciously provide for them daily when suddenly, unexpectedly, I hear a soft, sweet voice ask: "Puis-je te rejoindre?" We talked for hours. About willow trees. About politics and religion. About life and love and little birds. Never in my life been had I been so moved by such warmth and sincerity as had dripped from her lips on that day; like new honey, fresh from the comb. It was a start.
whisper in the wind
song of hope reverberates
the beautiful sun
Loneliness was my constant companion, for as long as I can remember. Looking for love in a thousand places, a thousand faces... yet still so terribly alone. On that splendiferous morn my search finally came to an end. Love lived and thrived under my wings, for a time. But summers never last forever. It was a grey November morning when the breath of life that sustained her merged with the gentle breeze that blows through this place. Now my future has become my past. The leaves have all turned brown. My little birds have disappeared. Once again I find myself alone. And yet, as I sit on this old oaken bench a cold December wind blows through the willow's dreads and I swear I can hear a voice whispering softly, endearingly, "Tu me manques, mon amour." For a moment, all seems right with the world.
summer bids adieu
humbled Sol takes a bow
* this poem is inspired by the song "July Morning" by Uriah Heep. Google
the lyrics and you'll understand...
Copyright © July Morning | Year Posted 2017
I saw a burial with a bugler playing taps;
I turned to my father, “what happened?” I asked.
He clutched my hand and with a quiver in his voice,
he began to explain and his eyes became moist.
“My son,” he said, “this is rather difficult for me;
for an old veteran like myself this is tough to see.
In that coffin lies a genuine patriotic warrior,
an honest-to-God hero, an American soldier.
I appreciate that soldier and the service he gave,
and I honor his sacrifice as he’s laid in his grave.
He was honorable, selfless, courageous, and bold;
please remember him son, as you grow old.
The value of his service, I must explain,
if not remembered, will be lost in vain.
As a nation we’re nothing without soldiers like him;
and failing to remember would be a terrible sin.”
I listened in awe as my father spoke,
it seemed as if his heart were broke.
I suddenly remembered when he went to war,
and when he returned I thought nothing more.
I never asked why he walked with a limp,
and I didn’t care about why he was sick.
I was too busy enjoying the life that I had,
to realize that I had it because of dad.
I finally understood what my dad was about,
and it hurt so bad I cried out loud.
He sacrificed so much so I could be free,
and his battle scars were suffered for me.
It was my father’s spirit that spoke to me that day;
thank God I finally understood what he had to say.
I saluted his coffin as they laid him to rest,
and I thought about the medals pinned on his chest.
That I didn’t honor him sooner, I will always regret;
and I pledged that day to never again forget.
I’m proud that my dad was a patriotic warrior;
I’m honored to be the son of an American soldier.
Copyright © Ed Coet | Year Posted 2007
I look to the Moon, hanging aloft
Among the clouds so milky soft.
How must it feel, so high above?
So chilled and bleak and void of love.
Collapsed and sunken are his eyes,
Dark and deep as the onyx skies.
As the Moon shies from the sun,
I share no love with anyone.
The Moon is alone, without affection.
In its grim face is my reflection.
Inside my heart, the longing grows,
And rots my soul, a sickly rose.
While I look beyond this cage,
I clench my fists; they shake with rage.
I desperately stare above,
Wishing to fly, free as a dove;
For release from the troubled heart I claim,
To be finally rid of the madness and shame.
Although reprieve is found in song,
To no one does my soul belong.
In music, may the pleas be spoken,
But all in vain; the heart is broken.
The Sphere returns, begins to sigh.
We are not so different, You and I.
So twisted and fractured is the White Stone.
We both have no one; We are both all alone.
Copyright © Mike Ruff | Year Posted 2006
One night a guy & a girl were
driving home from the movies. The
boy sensed there was
something wrong because of the painful
silence they shared between them
that night. The girl then asked the boy to pull over
because she wanted to talk. She told him that her
feelings had changed & that it was time to move on.
A silent tear slid down his cheek as he
slowly reached into his pocket & passed her a folded note.
At that moment, a drunk driver was speeding down
that very same street. He swerved
right into the drivers seat, killing the boy.
Miraculously, the girl survived. Remembering the note, she
pulled it out & read it.
"Without your love, I would die."
Copyright © Le'Rita Clark | Year Posted 2006
So still and beautiful lays the rose in the heather,
Lifeless and dying, given to bring you happiness,
So fragile is this rose laying in heather,
Slowly withering and drying, crumbling to a powder,
I look at you and see this rose ever fading,
Once growing, living, accenting its surroundings,
But now gone, plucked from the bush by one mans lust,
I could never compare you to this rose laying in the heather,
For your beauty surpasses its own,
So still and beautiful lays this rose in the heather,
Now dried cracking and dead, stored in a book to bring memories,
So weak and faded is this rose in yellowing heather,
Slowly falling apart as you touch the fragile petals,
I look at you and remember the flower when it faded,
That germinated and grew where I had sown its seed,
Now gone, plucked from the ground by one mans hope,
I would never compare you to this old heather and roses,
For its life was surpassed by yours,
Now I tell you I love you with cellophaned roses in heather,
Draining lifeless this dying confession of my dreaming,
This rose is more fragile then the first had I gave you,
But I could’t approach, my courage eroding at your sight,
I look at you now and see the love I sought inward,
Once alive and growing but only within lost confines of myself,
But never quite gone I hold this consuming fire close inside,
I could never combine your world with mine,
You always looked passed never noticing me,
Now I open my book that holds the first rose, wishing I gave it for the sake of
Instead I hold a created memory that never came passing,
That never could I fear,
I hold tight to the lie that through wonted silence I painted,
But that chance for your love died with the first rose wrapped in heather.
Copyright © Charles Fuller | Year Posted 2006
What makes the decision
To flick the switch
To end ones life
For the sake of it
Bullied at school
Fork in the road
To let death rule
Daughters and sons
What ever affects them
They just can't outrun
Sadness and tears
By all left behind
Will they ever understand
Copyright © James Fraser | Year Posted 2009
The Willow did not always weep,
in summer sun and breeze.
But sorrow once did quickly creep,
amongst the bark and leaves.
For long ago a maiden fair,
would bask beneath the tree.
Each day as she had rested there,
the tree would always see.
The beauty of her freckled face,
the softness of her skin.
The sweetness of her simple grace,
her love it hoped to win.
Reaching out to take the chance,
in all its strength with care.
Dropping low the limb and branch,
to shade the maiden fair.
To hide her from all pain and strife,
to cradle her within.
To help her through her gentle life,
from now until the end.
But soon she cease to come and lay,
beneath the now bowed limb.
Her heart it seems had flown away,
as hope now starts to dim.
So lonely was the branching Willow,
that in sorrow it would stay.
Forever bent and bowed down low,
until this present day.
By Tom Clark, Copyright 2008
Copyright © Tom Clark | Year Posted 2008
Loss Lost Love
by~ GARY FIELDS
Why my love left?
I soon forget the reason's why
All that I remember
Is that she left such
An empty space
An empty trace
So many memories
Which can not be erased
And I die just a little inside
And time mean's nothing to me'
Fore you mean so much to me
- And -
Then ever so slightly
I wish for quiet subtle change
And I don't know since when
But time just set's end on end
And smoke appears below
Which can choke a friend
A friend in need
Certainly not you love
And once again, ever so slightly
I wish for quiet suttle change
It has been three weeks (03) now
And things' are all in a clammer'
Thing's just seem to set end on end
And nothing seem's to matter
An I make a vowel for thee
In a time that is lost for- ever
O'h, how I wish to belong
by~ Poet Destroyer
I can see the pain!
I came to you no longer.
Looking for answers,
I cried till I could no more..
At the empty space hiding in my heart,
I knew then that day was the end.
Thoughts ran like rivers,
flowing a stream down my face.
You picked the pieces up as I walked away.
With no more to open and say.
When holding wasn't holding to me no more,
You opened up your heart, in hopes I could feel.
We cried into the night,
until the early morn.
We scolded each other's pain,
searching and seeking each others heart.
As time drew, second begun to fade.
I saw our lovers nest fading,
as the night grew thick.
The moment had arrived,
why did we say goodbye?
Now we sit alone,
reminiscing the past that vaporized into thin air.
An empty trace'
An empty space'
Oh! How I wish to belong!
A collaboration with * GARY FIELDS
My collaboration contest
Copyright © Poet Destroyer A | Year Posted 2011
The old screen door still welcomes me
as if recalling days before...
But after this...who'll pass this way?….
Will they use the rug and wipe their feet?
Erase away the grime and sleet?
.....Or will they even care?
I feel my pulse and lungs collide
then, take a breath...and step inside
She had lived alone, the last to go
one somber dawn, in the old brownstone
No other sign her time was near
Then silently, without fanfare....
death tiptoed in on hard wood floors
and took more than a glimpse of her
I've been asked to come, to clear the house
to organize, and set it right…
This all seems wrong….
to trespass on the throne of life
that was softly lived, behind the gate
where thirsty roses bloom, and wait…
to disturb the lace on drop leaf tables…
Disgrace the quiet of the gloom
open drawers, snoop and sort, ….a pruning,
of the good, the used, from worn and torn
My hands are able, but my heart declines..
what isn’t mine, to toss, to find, to mark, and label…
Echoes of her old straw broom
still follow me through every room,
While dust motes in the window light
are like glitter in the afternoon…
Where is the charm that used to be
where cozy logs had offered light
keeping the long nights warm?
Whirling sounds are in the air
like whispered breaths of weaving looms
Treadled sounds from sewing hems.
are mimicked by the whistling wind
that rattle windows, shaking blooms
on this somber winter afternoon
There are questions I want to ask
tho’ I can’t recall just what they were
No matter now….with no one here
I must be focused….on my task…
I must keep sorting until I'm done…
And now, …as doors of dark close in
I see, somehow, that fate has planned….
I am glad that I, with my two hands…
have witnessed with a smile within,
this cherished life, until the end
Within four walls, I hold it all
and now I know, what mattered most
Her life is held in loving hands
I stand here in the halls of night
content, I'll leave without regret
companioned by a day well spent…
I've been within …her company
Copyright © Carrie Richards | Year Posted 2011
carved on a willow
our love growing out of reach
Copyright © Rickie Elpusan | Year Posted 2005
for your arm wrapped around
my clavicle. I thought
I would loose my breath.
for the cusp of our hip bones
struggling to pull the drunken color
from our orange cheeks.
and our sweat, our sweat, our sweat
in the drenched summer air.
Our pants futile afterthoughts
Left crumpled on the floor
It is here I asked for your respect
And you filled me with it.
for the musk smell of our blanket den. I would watch the way dawn light
speckled your shoulders, pale, white-blue
I would trace the ink
of your skin, fingertip hovering a half inch
from your bone.
for how my name would hesitate
on your breath in brief puffs
like dandelion seeds blown from
My wistful lips when I was
waiting for them to bring back my wish.
for my sleeveless dress, as we strolled from
your father’s funeral.
It was the only time I watched you cry.
There were little holes in the cement sidewalk.
They filled with rain, oil
And your tears.
I watched your face change through
their watery colored reflections.
for the way your skin repels from my
Touch, quivers as though my finger-
print were a red hot poker.
You haven’t allowed me to touch you
In a year.
for the color of her font, as she responds to you. It is an eager
Color. She responds with all the passion of an Eskimo kiss.
You left her waitng..always.
I have been special to you,
she replies to your
like a maid
Who’s felt the hot moist
whisper of something naughty
tickle against her ear lobe.
for the way your eyes punch accusations
sharper then your razor tongue.
blue crackled lightening,
like an angry alley cat.
My words cannot reach you here.
You will leave.
We will divide our booty
Words that once held my name like a piece
Of carefully folded origami
now hiss cold
devoid like the plaster of our empty room.
for the morning
now knocking on my window.
I am livid in my withdrawal, tossing and turning
I can find no comfort
the tangle of these vacant sheets.
Copyright © Jennifer Brooks | Year Posted 2006
Evening gusts shall take away all my fear,
The stars will shine and fill my eyes with cheer,
The universe holds everything so dear
But you my love... How much I want you here
Lonely nights upon horizons I face,
To hold you again in this sacred place
I howl forlorn into the moonlit space
Where once we lay in our loving embrace
Weeping willows shall whistle in the glen,
As I lay silent with paper and pen
You left me, but I forgive you, again
The tree my witness, return to me, then....
We grow our roots beneath this willow tree
In sun and rain we will together be
April 22, 2017
Copyright © Darren White and White Wolf
Copyright © Darren White | Year Posted 2017
Here’s to a love that never existed!
And to the departing you insisted,
Let me give in to all I’ve resisted
It is true through our frivolous trail
Our lives were but a tale;
Though if I hadn’t thought of it
Pure hearts indefinite,
Not mattering even then,
Would I ever believe again?
We never win, we never fail
For what we had was only a tale
I’m lost within a dream never dreamt
Inside a slumber never slept,
And I caress the intricate design
Of the world I can never find
How vast! Yet still it is dying
Fading into the nadirs’ binding
As I fill the world with crying—always crying!
Oh world! Can I ever bring myself to hold
The warm nothing growing cold?
Oh world! Can I not take away
The love I gave with my will today?
We never win, we never fail
For what we had was only a tale
Copyright © Laura Breidenthal | Year Posted 2012
If I cry
It must be the memory
Of a skirt unlifted by a gust
To still a boy's misery
And wipe my eyes dry
For the way time sears
Us like flowers
And reaped my mother
Before I was ready to let her go.
If I cry
I cry for days she sheltered me
From a child's web of fallacy
And put her spittle on my knee
Where bruised flesh
Was a boy's view of tragedy.
I would press my face
Against her dress
And feared no goliath
If I cry
I cry for evenings on the porch
When she gathered us
Our feet white with blowing dust
And hunger like a miner
We had so little to eat some days
But she with prayers picked fruits
Of heaven's mercy
And we thankful ate together
And heard her ancient anecdotes
Of ancestors' exploits that floats
Still upon a manhood sky.
If I cry
I cry that mothers' days are meaningless
When the sight of flowers
Are frail veils upon a grave
And the customized Christmas cards
Will not sparkle her eyes
Just before the kiss upon my cheek
Honoring me for faithfulness
And knowing her love measures more
More than a day
More than the years that sums earth's decay.
If I cry
I cry for the love of my mother
For the woman and life giver
For God to bring
Order to this unruly thing
That spoons our purpose to a cup
Before the dusk with each sup
Of time, diminishing us
I cry for faith to hold my trust
Against the agony of loss
Death is a demonic disgust
That makes me long
To substitute all tears for angels song.
If I cry
Preserved my hope with brine of eye
To live again
Without death or pain
And run with my mother
Through the clapping ovation of summer rain.
Copyright © David Smalling | Year Posted 2009
I’m Physically and Emotionally tired
I don’t want to be the strong one anymore
I can’t this time
I don’t know what to do Daddy
I need your help down here
I can’t get back in control of my emotions
I’m having a hard time dealing with your absence
I’m having a hard time standing by myself
I need your help Daddy
I’m broken and lost without you Daddy
I need your will to want to carry on
I need your strength to over come this
I need your strength to stay standing
Your courage to fight back again
I need your help
Please Daddy I’m at a loss
How am I suppose to do this
I need your guidance
I need you to guide me back
To whom I was before
I need your help Daddy
I need your help
Copyright © Sabrina Niday Hansel | Year Posted 2013
I remember the day I got the call.
My world fell apart.
I had lost it all.
I remember the day you were taken from me.
I knew your beautifull smile I would never again see.
They said it was a mugger and you put up a fight.
I should not have let you go out that night.
It seems like just yesterday we fed eachother our wedding cake.
When I remember that memory my hands start to shake.
I sit in my cabin on this mountain with the sky so blue.
I won't leave. This's where I spent my honeymoon with you.
My family wants me to go back into that world, so cold.
I'm not leaving this mountain.
It's where I'll grow old.
They say your gone and will never again be.
Well, I hear what your saying. Yes, I know your talking to me.
You sit in the chair and drink my tea.
My heart swells up when you smile at me.
They say I've gone insane and see things that aren't there.
If I'm on this mountain here why should they care?
I love you more then I did when we first found this place.
I remeber everything about you, your ellagince and grace.
Why am I not in that world full of anger and fear?
I want to be with you on this mountain here.
Copyright © Misty Hoot | Year Posted 2006
My thoughts they roil like waters dark
in the abyss of blackest night,
with memories of mother’s bookmark,
of Longfellow read by lamp light.
She called, in the room around me,
the patter of other small feet.
Her gentle voice fetched angels .
Oh, the rhymes, they astounded me
like lullabies soft and so sweet.
All fearsome shadows, she’d dispel.
Maxine, my queen, read Tennyson
and the Charge of the Light Brigade.
A little girl dreamt of caissons
roll, and thunderous cannonade.
To be so brave, the small child mused,
mother her precious, heroine;
what would it take to stand so strong
without father, and not confused.
What words could be the linchpin
to right mother’s tell-tale wrong.
Such sad inspiration, mother,
oh, how I wronged you by being born,
though I loved you above all others.
Some thoughts of you make me forlorn.
Bring back the tales of mother goose,
three small kittens and their mittens.
Return the vision of your smile
the happiness your warmth induced,
let your spirit comfort, lighten
night, if only for a little while.
Copyright © Debbie Guzzi | Year Posted 2013
When in this life I felt down
You were the one that was around
Maybe it was the way you held my hand
I knew in my heart you would understand
I miss the way we used to sit and talk
The times we didn't look at the clock
The way you walked in those tight jeans
Made me want to pull my skin and scream
I remember trembling at your touch
I love and loved you so very much
I am lost inside now you're gone
Baby you are still my life's song
When I look to the night sky I tear
I miss you and wish you were here
Edward J Ebbs - 05/18/14
Written for the contest, My Beloved Sweetheart
Sponsored by: Amy Green
Copyright © Edward Ebbs | Year Posted 2014
The girl is an ultra-modern scholar,
Belongs with an upper-middle class family.
Looking very nice, smart, gets angry suddenly.
She reads M.A in English at Presidency University.
She is assimilating to the ideas of Shakespeare,
Shelley, Keats, Neruda, Byron...
Fluently speaks English, loves cricket.
Shoulders are shaken by expression.
She cries alone, laughs with everyone....
The girl is very good.
The boy is a post-modern educated son of a lower-middle class family.
He studies M.A in Bengali at Calcutta University.
He is assimilating to the routes of Vaishnab literature,
Ideas of Bharatchandra, Rabindranath Tagore, Nazrul, Jibanananda...
Writes poems, sings song, loves football.
He walks on the high-street and observes people.
He laughs alone, listens to everyone...
The boy is very good.
They are attracted by the opposite personality!
The girl wants that her lover will be a modern man.
The boy thinks that his lover will become as the mind of his.
They are changing silently
Love goes to another address...
SANDIP GOSWAMI, INDIA
Copyright © Sandip Goswami | Year Posted 2014
Ah, memory is a fickle lover succumbing to the tide
grasping for the grains of sentiment sometimes left.
In cold or torrid waves, spent passions now abide
for you have left me, long ago, I'm now, alone bereft.
Grasping for the grains of sentiment sometimes left:
beside a roaring bonfire, where sparks on night winds glide;
for you have left me, long ago, I'm now alone, bereft.
I huddle in a dune's dark shade with nothing left inside.
Beside a roaring bonfire, where sparks on night winds glide,
we conceive a wayward child, a changeling child, a thief.
I huddle in a dune's dark shade with nothing left inside,
as the waves of age and ages, return only grief.
We conceive a wayward child, a changeling child, a thief.
In cold or torrid waves, spent passion now abides,
as the waves of age and ages, return only grief,
ah, memory is a fickle lover succumbing to the tide.
Copyright © Debbie Guzzi | Year Posted 2012
Winds may howl,
Wild animals growl,
The forest grows cold,
For I am lonesome and old
As the sun peaks through the clouds,
I hear your soft, young voice so loud!
And though you speak dead man's lines,
You speak them with majesty divine
As I am wrapped in my woe,
I only want you to know...
...that roses die black and violets lose blue,
But I will never die
And you know I love you!
Copyright © Laura Breidenthal | Year Posted 2013
A string of white pearls adorned her neckline
accenting that perfect little yellow dress
her silken hazel hair pulled back
showing off a most angelic face
she was glowing
and she couldn't stop smiling
I remember it like it was yesterday
she was so excited
meeting a friend for dinner
a friend that needed a shoulder to cry on
one she hadn't seen in many a long moon.
The clock struck seven and it was time to go
I so remember telling her to have fun
and I'd see her when she got home
She gave me a goodbye kiss and headed out the door
How was I to know?
How could anyone know?
It was a kiss just like hundreds of other kisses
no, not your drawn out passionate kiss
no, not the I love you more than anything kiss
oh how I wish it were
it was a see you soon sweetheart kiss
How was I to know?
How could anyone know?
this would be our last kiss
my last remembrance
the last time I could say I love you
for the restaurant she went to
yes it was that restaurant
the one where all dreams perished
where empty hearts cry
where mothers and sons
fathers and daughters
and dreams all died
Copyright © Tim Smith | Year Posted 2015
You looked down at me, blue eyes intent on freezing, looked past my tears, and
said you loved me.
There was no expression on your face, no warmth in your kiss, you told me you
cared, and wanted only me.
I placed my hands on your back, kissed that mouth and told you how beautiful I
thought you were. Then you smiled that first smile you told me I was absolutely
When the sweat was dry, and the air was still, you wrapped your legs in mine, and
stroked my hair. You shared all the moments of your past, the plans of the future,
and the child like excitement of your dreams overwhelmed me into tears.
I fell in love with you. I fell hard. I fell for a man who felt nothing for me. I fell into
the arms of something that I dreamt was there, but faded, like the scent of your
skin. I never knew how blind I was. I never thought it would hurt to let you go. I
never thought I would have to. I never thought you would ever hurt me, instead
you crushed me.
You told me you loved me, and you cared. You told me I was worth everything, but
you left me. You just left me. No note. No call. No email. Nothing. You just
disappeared leaving me to feel like everything everyone had ever said about you;
everything you said you were, was true.
I danced with you. I let you in to my heart. You saw my soul. You knew everything.
You were everything to me. How could you do this to me? Why did you have to lie
and tell me it was only me? Why did you tell me I was it for you? Why did you tell me
you loved me, and cared so damn much? Why didn’t you stop to think about me
just once before eating that cake you so had to have.
You looked down at me, eyes still frozen, and begged me to have that baby. There
was a beautiful smile on your face, and you said you loved me.
You watched me move, and I heard you sigh. I thought it meant everything. You
said I was everything. You said you loved me. I thought you loved me
Copyright © April Marie Johnson | Year Posted 2011
The warrior lays her weary head,
With heavy heart she cannot bear,
Burning tears stream down her face,
As whispered memories touch the ear.
Her armour tarnished by remorse,
Her battle-cry a wimpered row,
Her wounds, of which bleed solitude,
Will never know forgiveness now.
The song began two score ago,
When two came knocking at her door,
In need of refuge from the world,
Of that, and love, and little more.
Forced to fight for every smile,
Her only solace found in song,
She longed for love to rescue her,
And plant her where she could belong.
Jealous tongues are seldom kind,
Self-seeking hearts know nought of love,
The caged canary only sings,
When coaxed to praise from up above.
For the steely spine that now I own,
Forever shall I grateful be,
A gift from her, and from her own.
Courage mounted inwardly.
I'll not forget how I have loved thee,
And youthful memories I will prize,
Til on the shore of His forgiveness,
Whereto now, we both shall rise.
Copyright © Yvonne Evanoff | Year Posted 2011