I stopped writing...
For a moment, I never knew myself
What am I searching for every layer of this shelf?
Could it be you? The one who told me to 'keep writing'
Should I thank you for breaking down my walls?
Might as well write down this thoughts, for you to find out
I always think about you, waiting for your call
Not sure how many times I convinced myself to get over you, that even the calculator can't count.
I stopped writing....
Maybe one day I'll try to keep going,
Ignore the voices in my head that keeps on pulling me down and never stopped repeating
'cause it's time to let go of the things that are not worth having.
I wanna keep writing...
So I tried composing and take down the words that even myself wasn't able to comprehend
Should I consider it 'the end'?
Became undeniably dumb towards you, believed to be the craziest thing
I'll keep writing...
Someday, I wanna be so sure of my thoughts
I wanna be brave for 'what ever happens, happens'
I envy you for having that kind of perspective and was able to stand for what you believe.
So I'll keep writing hoping one day, I'll finally have the courage to put my words into action.
I sat down with a notebook
A soft buzz in my head
Words were there
Then slipped away
Like smoke through fingers
Disappearing into thin air
Ideas floated just out of reach
Like clouds in a sky too bright
Drifting…
Never landing…
The pen hovered, touching the paper
Then the ink ran
Like a dream fading at dawn
I tried to grasp
A thought or spark
It unraveled…
A tangled thread of meaning
Too fine to trace
I laughed, maybe too loud
Wondering if the silence
Had more to say
Than the words I could not find
The clock ticked slowly
Time stretched like elastic
Nothing stuck
Nothing anchored
I stared at the page
Waiting for the wind
To bring the words back
But they lingered in the mist…
A flock of birds
Just out of sight
Beyond the reach
Of this hazy morning
We are the poets, painters and dreamers
We’re the wisp of smoke drifting
above the ice covered rooftops
on frozen winter nights
When the world is quiet.
we peer through life’s frost covered windows
We pry open its emotional doors
We walk in solitude down pathways unknown
We seek the what if
the why and the what for
We do not prostitute our dreams
for the promises of fortunes or fame
Instead we give away our desires
so others might find some comfort
in the emotions our hearts bleed into the world
In other words, we are quite penniless and alone
O! Love,
I wonder! where you are?
You and your senses,
That can warm any atmosphere,
And heal my essence.
O! Love,
Where do you stand this time?
As I wait under your skies,
For you every time.
O! Love,
You know every prime,
When I inhale and exhale,
And I catch my breath.
O! Love,
It seems that you are:
My shade... My sunshine,
A unique place!
Where I can be anything I desire.
Following the trail of stardust I float to Jupiter
Looking for answers
But alas they are elusive and unkind
I do not understand
or fathom rudeness
Upon my return my eyes flutter in relief
REM sleep takes me deeper and deeper
Poetry can be written another time
Tonight there is nothing
No inspiration
Don’t give up an ancestral voice whispers
She has answers
And questions I had never thought to ask
We create together, this cosmic visitor and I
There is a rhythm and a jazziness that resonates familiar
Upon awakening all is lost
MEDITATIVE ALLITERATIONS ON MY SLEEP REALITY
From the bed of many meditations
To the stare of a starry eyes,
Into the comforting realm of sound sleep.
Suddenly, I'm hanging out with frosh friend,
Miss Moyin mowing my morning memories.
Now tell me monotonously,
Is it deep dream voyage
Or awaken amusement into reality?
Vick Manuel Poetry {VMP}
Copyright © December, 2020.
#OnTheSpotPoetry #PoetKing #PoetSkills #ImpromptuPoem #Alliterations #WordsSmith #vickmanuelpoetry #VMP
she came in discreet way to me
and asked me
are you going with me?
negligent and rude
I told her
I can't, sorry,
but I have so many laundry and so many bills
to be paid without delay
but certainly
for sure
I'll release myself, only to have a little patience
she sat down on a chair and said
there is no problem
I'm waiting
solve quickly what you have to solve
because the interval in which the traffic is quieter
is small
then comes the madness
something you will not face, believe me
you didn't learn on time
to get rich
to scream
to shout
you didn't like when you were a kid, when you were a teenager
when you were in shape
to attend meetings, meetings, boring events
you won't even like it now. it's hard, you'll be spit
expelled
you will be too old for all this
you will also be an "old sucker"
which everyone will laugh at
I'd like to spare you all this, hurry up a little
I look at her face
and I don't believe what she says
poppies also grow on the heap
and what a bright color they have
hey, why do you mourn for me?
Last night I dreamt I wrote a poem
And it was all complete
But then, by accident, I hit
The key that said “Delete.”
I tried, in vain, to reconstruct
The words I’d deftly chosen,
But all my efforts were for naught;
My brain was blank or frozen.
I knew it was a masterpiece,
The best I’d ever written
And every reader, every judge
Would surely have been smitten.
When I awoke, I wondered
If my dream, perhaps, were true;
But since this poem is all that’s left,
That’s quite an ample clue.
August 2, 2013 ~ for Francine's contest ~ Humorous
When this pen of mine runs dry…
Empty thoughts fall and die…
No one there to catch this descend …
Even the paper is not my friend…
Inspiration hides behind self-built walls…
Most words struggle to even crawl…
A voice on paper with no sound…
Cries to be heard inside a slow drown…
Eyes now close into a deep sleep…
Off to a place where thoughts shall seep…
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