Slip By Poems

In the depths of silence, on the cold floor of memories

In the depths of silence, on the cold floor of memories,
I wander through old thoughts, in the shadow of lost dependencies.
I return to the same illusions, to those forgotten pills,
One after another, the days slip by in a deep sleep.
I cannot get over the reasons that abruptly broke our connection,
I cannot understand how our destinies intertwined this way.
For on every chosen path, we meet again, inevitably,
Regardless of our attempts to part ways.
I've heard you're no longer yourself, that you've succumbed to silence,
You spend your time in solitude, far from the nights out with the girls.
Without makeup, a storm of thoughts, with no reason to dress up,
I, back to my dependencies, have nothing to fight for.
Our ending isn't right, for our souls are entwined.
Our ending isn't right, for I falter without you, day and night.
In this melancholic incantation, we search for lost meaning,
In the chaos of existence, where the invisible universe calls us.
On the thread of time, we seek light in the ancient darkness,
Embracing the mystery of life as an eternal dance of stars.

TIME IN A TEAPOT

TIME IN A TEAPOT
Remembering the mornings of sipping tip with my mother, who has long since passed...

gentle morning breeze stirs the air
whispers of steam rise in the morning hush

teapot's whistle pierces the air
teapot’s awakening call
teapot’s spout forms a gentle stream
teapot's warmth begins to flow
teapot’s charm, a magic spell

rising from teapot’s fragrant leaves
scent of tea fills the air
stories are told, and memories unfold
echoes murmur from the past
hours slip by like grains of sand
love and laughter, tears and woe
settle in the teapot’s belly

time dwells in the unassuming teapot’s heart
teapot’s secrets locked within its core

Never Let Chances Slip By

M-any
Y-ears
L-ooked
A-t
F-alling
L-eaves
O-f
R-apid

H-ours,
E-ven
R-emembering
E-ach
D-ay's
E-rased
R-ecent
O-pportunities

©bfa060125
Monocrostic (Birthday of Mylaflor C. Heredero)

The Haha Moments Floating Away

The days slip by, one by one.
The page stays blank,
flickered with tears.
A line or two finally appears—
hope ignited, just to be extinguished.
The flame of hope barely exists anymore.

The haha moments
floating away,
dispersed like a big, fluffy cloud—
poof—
the words disappearing into the big blue sky,
leaving without a sound.

The words no longer burning,
no more yearning—
just being, just thinking,
just sitting without words.

The complexity of life—
no need to rewrite.
A different picture:
a big blank canvas.

No more poetry.
Tonight, the words are sleeping
quietly,
exhausted from the sleepless nights.

Depart

Have you perhaps, held on too long
to the place you call home?
Have you let too much time slip by,
avoiding the unknown?

It’s hard not to be scared of change,
it happens naturally.
The risk of taking chances, yes
it’s pure anxiety.

But staying in this place is death,
you’re meant to rise and grow.
Your heart is meant to be your guide,
trust it and just let go.

If you stay here, you’ll just get old.
Your dreams you’ll never find.
So, take this chance, depart…
and leave this old place far behind.

At The Madrasa

At The Madrasa

On the floor, we three intertwine,
glances that linger, hands that align.
Many pages of verse we recite and tread,
A hand touches hand, no words are said.

Fingers trace the zippers glide,
A sudden warmth, a spark inside.
Bare beneath fabric, thrill within,
A rushing pulse under the skin.

Lips graze nipples, tender and close,
In the library, where no one knows. 
Kisses that linger, tender and wet, 
Stirring a fire, dripping hot sweat.

Heavy breath, our bodies collide,
Fingers penetrate, no need to hide.
******’s surge, crashing in flight,
lost in each other, moans of delight.

Among all the girls in the room,
Where passion and love bloom.
In warm embraces, the hours slip by,
Until our teacher lets us go with a sigh.

Dissociative Amnesia

I walk within a shadowed hall,
Where echoes fade before recall,
The walls are bare, the mirrors blind,
A labyrinth, a maze in my own mind.

Fragments are scattered like broken glass,
Like a thousand leaves beneath the sun,
I search for truths I cannot find,
Each moment lost, each thread unlined.

The years slip by, a voiceless tide,
They took my past and let me hide.
What hands have written on my page,
What silent thief, what silent rage?

Faces hover, in the ether as mist,
Names unspoken, moments missed.
The weight of time, a hollow sphere,
Its whispers lost, its meaning unclear.

And yet, some part of me remains,
A song beneath the sharpest pains.
The heart remembers what the mind forgets,
In sorrow's cradle, no regrets.

Though my memory falters, cracks, and breaks,
Each gap, a wound, each ache, an ache,
I gather pieces, sharp and blunt,
And weave the fabric in my mind.

For even as the past decays,
I hold to light, to brighter days,
A fractured soul, yet still I try,
With open hands, beneath wide skies.

Endless Love

Memories slip by
like a breeze
The heart 
Aches 
For in the far distance 
of the soul
There’s a face haunting 
it's core
A moment of warmth
A simple gesture
Unforgettable 
A lifetime of devotion 
To one heart 
Upon reflection 
Unregrettable


By Zyrool

Lost love

People spend their whole lives looking for love, but never realized they've already let it slip by

It Won't Always Be Like This

In times where you feel, 
that life is tangled in distress, 
Remember, our richest lessons gained 
are never aquired through success. 

But through the trials that we bear, 
Undesired dreams and lost battles fought, 
The place our resilience lies raw and rare, 
where our truest strengths are taught. 

Seek comfort in the knowing, 
no matter what we may face 
Is growing who we are, 
setting our views into place. 

What's destined in our path, 
won't slip by , or go a miss 
So on days that feel most bleak, 
Believe it won't always be like this.

Lamppost Aglow

lamppost flickers soft
inviting a slumber deep
amidst taps of crystal mist.

outside, skyscape flaunts its view
to pinpoint evening , aglow...
lamppost flickers soft.

wrapped in quilt,
thoughts milder gently slip by
inviting a slumber deep.

chants this nocturne
where lullabies hover low
amidst taps of crystal mist.

OVER AND OVER AGAIN

If we choose to share our love and life with someone
whether it be a man and woman, 
two women 
or two men…
may we be blessed as the year slip by
to fall in love with that person…
over…and over…again

Feeling Worthless

 “The worst is feeling worthless.” Quote: Donald Glover 

I tip the scales. 
Life curtails.
In luminous light
To suffer delight.
Yielding bend.
New age trend.
Wanting to break.
Now awake.
Softly spoken. 
Appearing broken.
Never cherished.
Hopes perished.
Always alone.
Hearts of stone. 
Meandering.
Never pandering.
Solace is mine.
Gives me a sign.
I wander on. 
Comfort gone.
Feeling free. 
Serendipity.
Born of the earth.
Little worth.
Mother of mine.
Minds entwine.
Often mistake.
For angels sake.
Wishes plummet.
Unreachable summit.
Never to be.
Don’t pity me.
All forlorn.
Vow is sworn.
Radical change.
Must rearrange.
Nights slip by.
Wondering why.
Wander to edges.
Witness alleges.
Of life’s torment.
Self can only repent.
Watching the clock.
Taking stock.
Time is tragic.
Feel the magic.
Wont commence.
Its all pretense.
Solitary one knows.
Let the door close.
Beat a different drum.
Let the doubters come.
Find my heart.
Don’t let teardrops start.
Bequeath to me.
All that’s free.
Guide me to bliss.
A lollypop kiss.
The forlorn sorrows.
Yesterday’s tomorrows.
Of this earth.
Absolutely no worth.

At a Craft Fair

At a craft fair, people’s projects
Proudly are displayed,
So would-be customers can stop
To see what they have made.

From jewelry to knitted hats,
To paintings, quilts and soaps,
The crafters eye each passerby;
A stop will raise their hopes.

I feel a little bad if I
Slip by with just a glance
And sense that if I do so,
I’ll receive some looks askance.

Yet if I show some interest
They’re prepared to make a sale
And if that doesn’t happen,
Disappointment will prevail.

I like to go to craft fairs
Though I often wonder why,
For I leave there feeling guilty
If there’s nothing I must buy.

In Cute Catacomb Like to Roam on Way Home

a cute catacomb
place where we would like to roam
there we have our home

find a place to hide
we should see quarterback slide
first down was denied

she was with a smile
while she had walked down each aisle
number can compile

devil avoid
as well as slip by Freud
friend an android

Probably should have made it four entries instead of only one.

• Short Slip By Poems
• Famous Slip By Poems
• Best Slip By Poems
• Read Slip By Poems
• Long Slip By Poems
• Slip By Quotes