I wouldn't claim you weary me
For Muse, it's me, apparently
Here in the room, a faint perfume
Of dust, or must, a tinge of gloom
Thank you for the lovely talk
That we encountered on our walk
In the backyard to garden small
And viewed the sky above the wall
And truly, truly, oh my word!
Sweet serenades, that little bird!
It's so good to have you near
And share a bit of lovely cheer
You beside these past few days
I've sorrowed, mourned, delighted
Praised
It's so good you're here again
The gentle lifter of my pen
Categories:
rues, encouraging, muse,
Form: Rhyme
I'm a small street,
big street,
narrow,
wide...
down street,
top street...
Important,
imposing,
left,
right...
Street of the dream, street of suffering,
streets of the lost
whores...
Rua do Sol
at noon,
moon street
at night...
abandoned dirty street
kid lying on the sidewalk,
intriguing dark street
robber...dangerous street...
river street,
beach street
passers-by street
passersby
hurried
elegant...
Augusta Street,
Florida...Fifity
Avenue...
Avenue, Gasse
alley without teeth
Old Town...
street of creatures
night, lovers...
Car streets and
of coaches...streets
parallel walkways
fashion...
street from anywhere
streets that lead
to failure or to
success...street
of people who live
in it and of those
pass her...
shopping street,
fairs, circuses...
Street of Memories and
forgetfulness...
Street, street...!
Categories:
rues, adventure, allegory, anger, philosophy,
Form: Free verse
If only I could bring back the days
when I was twenty-one,
and could choose
who I wanted to be with
until eternity,
I would definitely pick a poet.
A poet:
who could make brown leaves
into green,
who could bloom drought dried
flowers,
who could make haunted woods
a castle,
who could change my tears to
sweetwater,
who could dance words through
my face,
who could sail me in sloops of
smiles,
thru his pure loving poems;
but my rue is too futile--
these are wasteful wishes
can't be granted just reverie,
for it's more harder now
and hurtful to twist.
If only I could bring back the days...
Categories:
rues, pain,
Form: Free verse
Tarnished tracks of thought
converge at dead end unknown,
frozen time in tunnel rusts
on scarlet scale of past,
stilled present disowned, rues in blue.
(English is my second language)
August 17, 2019
Syllable count : 5/7/7/6/8
Checked on howmanysyllables.com
Contest : Second Edition Of Wayra
Sponsored by : Nette Onclaud
Categories:
rues, depression, time,
Form: Free verse
Urban
Dare to touch me without any rules.
Dare to see the spectacular view on us
In the nearest past
Covered by shadows, covered by dust.
How passionately the wind blows away
Our words.
It hurts so much not to remember,
To feel left out of the game
When your name is an endless source of tenderness.
By watching the city I watch you.
By discovering it I caress you.
You hide like a predator in the darkness
Of the same block.
We stroke the different sides of luck.
Click. Click through everything that’s not sold.
Turn our kisses into solid gold.
With your hands you burn my previous world.
No one can go as far as you can.
No one is a cannon in this iron land.
Green and red as metaphors for broken hearts.
Our looks are curved and complicated,
A perfect manipulation is a story that runs fast but never stops.
Copyright © Maryna Tchianova | Year Posted 2016
Categories:
rues, boyfriend, character, city, crush,
Form: Personification