My head crashes to the desk.
Flashbacks—oh, so cruel.
A hammering heart, a desperate soul,
I reach to touch you…
But you vanish.
I run to you, but you’re always faster,
Slipping away again.
“Come back,” I scream.
He says,
“No, I don’t love you… I never really did.”
Silence. I stop running.
“No… no.”
Sobs break free.
My chest feels hollow—
Not from grief,
But from the absence of it.
Not even pain wants to stay anymore.
My voice breaks, as I say—
“Please… don’t leave me.”
My body shook.
I fall again,
Not in love but in fear.
I look down, at the cracks in the floor—
So much similar to my heart.
I look up, still hoping… then regretting.
Your back was turned as you walked away.
In an instant all will vanish
Separated, out of touch
From this world we shall be banished
For the questions asked too much
Wait for me, I know the answer
In the episode I saw
Godot walked in like a dancer
Like he never did before
And he said that he is sleeping
And he dreams of us like we
Are the ones that keep believing
That it’s him who makes us see
But it’s all untrue, he said
Get a life, before you die
But you know that we are dead
I replied, but he just smiled
You were sleeping on your sofa
And the TV sound went through
It was heard a little softer
In the garden grown by you.
in
my life,
no more tears,
nor sorrow dwells.
All my pain has fled~
my joy is now complete.
I fear no foe, no problem,
I'm truly a great conqueror.
My lips full of appreciations.
Till eternity, I'll ever give thanks.
Why won't I ever be joyful in God?
All of my needs in life, He provides.
All my heart desires come in full.
Good health, He grants it freely.
Favour lines my pathways.
I walk with great grace,
like flocks of swans.
Grateful still
to God.
Yes.
Dreams that seem to make no sense
bits and pieces of suspense
dissolve and vanish before my eyes
blackmail-spirals, howling skies
All exits blocked, no escape
ghastly images, scimitar-shaped
horrors dredged-up, long suppressed
drown in light once awake
and in my meditation I float in an aura purple
I swirl among and above the clouds beyond my earthly realm
and come to land upon a sandy shore
I see my sail boat waiting, beckoning to me
her bow is bobbing, her stern secure
her starboard tilting and her port welcoming
her sails flutter in a wind, her lovely sails flung wide and white
below a perfect sky of azure
the ocean waves caressing her hull are aqua green
and I want to swim and dive deep into the crashing waves
the cool water washing over me as I swirl
drifting on the waves
I see white ocean birds flying, soaring
but my meditation is silent . . .
oh, from birth to this moment I have lived
known grief to young, walked with the angel of death
have known defeat, and deep love, beauty and ugliness
have climbed from the pits of hell to begin new over and over
and it has been a good life . . .
but my time is over, heaven is calling for me
and so I will sail my boat into my true north today
until I vanish . . .
bits of song
that flit and burrow
like lovers kissing in a movie back row
lyrics trampling focus
a hack backward
in memory's free floating detachment
gratifying to hum
dismantling typical
a melody weightless
that turns pumpkins into coaches
our music
once a tangle of youthful drive
that surged in waves
teetering on vanish
when songs re-configured
fit a newer age
with a plugged range of frequencies
when shadows stand in for substance
pre-occupied with its splintering
"To vanish and not be heard from ever again is mystery not to you, but to those who love you, a nightmare will ensue." By Poet
What becomes of those who vanish,
quickly slipping out of sight
becoming ghosts so greatly missed
who step not back into the light.
You hear of souls like these sometimes.
They simply walk out of a door,
around a corner, down some street . .
to not be heard from any more.
It’s likely they’ve been kidnapped though
how awful if no proof is found
to show that there had been foul play.
Were they killed or gagged and bound?
Had there been horrific torture?
What must those who love them feel
if their body’s not recovered?
To have no clue must be surreal.
And always there’s that tiny chance
to which their friends or kin may cling.
They simply disappeared because
of secrets or deep suffering.
Are they now in slavery
to traffickers of sex somewhere?
This thought must haunt the parents of
young kids with faces sweet and fair.
How hard it is has to be to know
your loved one had no cause to flee.
In hell you’d suffer thinking that
in hell your loved one still might be.
"Sunsets are loved because they vanish." - Ray Bradbury
Days like this, I could forget
If they were all to vanish,
Come to an end in a sunset
Black clouds I'd ever banish
If they were all to vanish
As skies of orange and blue,
Black clouds I'd ever banish
If that were so easy to do
As skies of orange and blue
Take place here, now and then,
If that were so easy to do
I'd paint them with my pen
Take place here, now and then
Needed for only a little while,
I'd paint them with my pen
If only I had such style
Needed for only a little while
Come to an end in a sunset,
If only I had such style
Days like this, I could forget.
She slowly fades away
Into the air like dust
Into the night like a fleeting dream
Out of history like an exiled queen.
Falling away from the shore
With each approaching tide.
This crisis grows bigger than femicide
For they’ve begun to attack even the child.
Some disappear like phantoms
While police struggle to catch
The heartless hoodlums.
Who are these culprits
in our degenerate society,
Who steal our females
In homage to some satanic piety?
Small a lesson though
But great to remember
The virus will be
Gradually defeated
Vanish sooner or later
And we learn with great sacrifice
Sometimes the world must be
Resemble the virus's behaviour
Classless
No boundaries
Globalised
Regardless of race
No racial discrimination
No rich or poor
And so man learn to share......
Who is teaching us the lesson
The pervasive virus
Our Almighty God
Or the greedy mankind himself......
I wonder
Can you really vanish in this day and age
One where social media haunts and stalks you
Purchases on credit cards are tracking your buying habits
Cameras are located on virtually every street corner
Your phone a geo locator of your every move
Make my day, try to vanish.
Andreas Simic©
What would deem biding our critical concern?
What tolerably deep association would we learn?
Is it fair to firmly assert we utterly understand?
What has loomed and shielded stiff mend?
Do we promptly make every second count?
Is it sprung to say we are doomed to idly die to flout?
Heed the placid quiddity we are endeavoring.
It is drifting us by, oblivious of our lone value levering.
Is it genuine that these requests typically exist?
Because of the way that nobody can be sure?
They overshadow you like a goliath can desist.
It's unsatisfactory what the disposals efficiently are.
The vista is sorrowful, and the future looks bleak.
We expect a required course yet lack the will to seek.
Written: December 12, 2021
Moments, once held, vanished like spider webs.
Whispers held captive, like tides, too soon ebb.
September 24, 2021
L Milton Hankins
"Your Best Rhyming Couplet" contest
6th Place!
What we badly miss
When we don’t at all kiss
We can’t neatly guess,
Until denied spouses audibly hiss
And to their partners simple request deny their “Yes”…
Until even the shadows vanish
Of true marital bliss
And a couple’ true-to-form, a mere varnish:
Until on your most priceless treasure
Your hurt partner begins to piss
And only at his or her leisure
Omits to do this…
What you could oddly suffer
When you sparingly kiss
Should never be on offer,
As sometimes it does shatter peace,
Never thinking it should doing so cease.
Like a ghost
That is what you are to me
Days have turned into weeks
Not one Hello or How are you
Not a sound
Not a word
Vanished
Much to my displeasure, disappointment and heartache
I should not be surprised
Because we've covered this ground before, you and I
The last time, I even called you out on it
And still...
You find a way to haunt me
April 1, 2021
@katladyt
Sub Categories
Looking for the formal definition, structure, and history of this poetry form? Visit the Poetry Dictionary entry below. Then return to explore how PoetrySoup members bring the form to life through their own poems.