“I love the moon from a distance,” she mumbles, gazing up at the sky.
“Why’s that?”
“I don’t want to scare it off,” she grins.
— e.s
It's been two days/And I can still taste the mint from your lips.
It's been two days/ And I can still hear your voice in between the silence and chaos.
It's been two days/ And I can still recall your scent, smile and songs.
It's been two days/ And I can still feel your hand upon mine.
It's been two days/ And it feels like eternity and yesterday.
It's been two days,
It's been two days
only.
Stumbling over rocky ground torn, worn, despondent eagerly watching the sky with tired red eyes Through the night an odyssey he has floundered tired body pushing on on a journey of a humble son The dawn rises a liturgy of sunshine the son has arrived home no more will he roam
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We sat there
In each others arms
We were in love
We made many promises to one another
But there was one I had kept deep down
To scared to share
Afraid of his reaction
But today I asked him to promise me one thing
Told him it was one of the most important promises I would be asking of him
...
Promise me
I say
Promise you won’t be anything like
My Father
Kiran
Thoughts in the attic amongst long lost belongings darkness and dust Times past memories never forgotten
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i sat
and watched
your letters burn.
it provided me
the warmth,
your arms never could.
The MouZe jumps over the wall bouncing like the bounciest of basketballs Seeking two more Z’s for the sanctuary of sleep then he falls swearing “bleep bloomin bleep”
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Some days moving feels like a trek up the Amazon the body resoundingly refuses to budge however much it is given a gentle nudge The mind is in full stop gallons of coffee do not hit the spot Some days I think should just be for snoring away
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it's been two hundred and forty-seven days, sixteen hours, thirty-two minutes and eighteen seconds since you left me but i still think about the way your lips part when you're reading to me, smiling at me with your crinkled eyes; the way you clap you hands over your mouth, laughing before i even reached the punch line of a joke; the way you cupped your hands over my cheeks in the dark, asking me if i was cold, lending me your favourite sweater i still remember that midnight we went swimming you holding my hand as you pulled me into the pool, our hands still entangled as you pulled me up, out of the water, drawing my hair away from my face i still recall that time we went for a stroll in the park, the first time you told me that you loved me, all those ages ago i believed you. you lied. but if you come running back to me today, tomorrow, or two hundred and forty-seven days, sixteen hours, thirty-two minutes and eighteen seconds later i'm sure i'd welcome you back into my arms again
(so i got this idea from a book by tamara ireland stone called "every last word")
the world tilted around her wind whipping her hair across her face, her tears creating tracks across her cheeks what she once thought real were lies and all that she was taught was all for naught there was a commotion in the distance and she closed her eyes, hearing the sound of children's giggles their tinkling laughter resounding through the air, reminding her of him again this never ending ache in her chest, seeping through her bones and consuming her entire being she wished she were dead just like him
“he was too young,” they said. too young to be mobbed by overenthusiastic fangirls begging for a selfie too young to be subsumed into the music industry posessing equal parts talent and naivety too young to be manipulated, resulting in the acme of his fame he was too young.
too weak to be alone,
too shy to show my bones.
wonder when can i let go,
unveil myself
to a friend, a soul.
i'll get over such conflicts, i hope.
only then may i find my bubble -
space for comfort, love and solace.
a place
i one day will get to call home.
Veo mis manos y no sé qué hacer,
Mis dedos juegan a entrelazarse,
Para una vez más soltarse y volver.
Veo mis pies moverse inquietos.
En realidad no puedo culparlos,
Y reclamarles no es una opción,
Pues esa mirada tan tuya, me deja sin respiración.
Mis ojos, en su afana desesperación,
Buscan encontrarse con los tuyos,
Lo único que desean es conocerlos,
Saber si tienen el mismo brillo,
El brillo del cual rebosan los míos,
cuando yo te admiro.
Ni hablar del corazón latente,
Cada que escucha de ti se acelera,
Y cuando no lo hace, se desespera,
Me temo que me he encariñado,
Pero, ¿cómo decirle que no
A la sonrisa que me tiene hipnotizado?
Mi estómago se estremece,
Mi mente se adormece,
El mundo parace no rotar sobre su propio eje.
He de suponer que algún día podremos ser,
Si alguno de los dos se anima a ver,
Qué la mirada es lo que más delata,
Entonces veme y sin dar lata,
Descubre que al que más amo,
Se encuentra justo a mi lado.
By: Star Chopper
UNO DE VARIOS POEMAS QUE TENGO GUARDADOS.
And the angels sang in joy
The moon, it smiled
When they saw her, and her beautiful eyes.
She walks around the earth, with a trace of
glitter in her footprints
And those eyes,
That light up when she smiles.
Made of beautiful poetry,
soul of hers is art
The kind that artists fail to capture.
The name of her you ask?
She is you.
You is she.
- Audelia Lee
What is this figure I see?
They have those eyes with depths of galaxy
My heart orbits when they look at me
But they see someone I’m not meant to be.
It was my biggest crime,
I hurt that pretty soul with no trace behind
She became nothing but broken limbs
But I found no mercy in the state she’s in.
Her chest still beat with a heart of gold
And somehow left my control
I saw the tears stained from her eyes
But she never had the strength to say goodbye
My sadness never lurked until the night
I told her “Baby, don’t go, you can make this right”
This hurts me more than it hurts you
Don’t leave me stranded to pay my dues.
I saw her soul glisten again
But baby, you’ll never find someone better than-
Me; My loneliness ached my bitter world
And all it took was one fragile girl.
“Chosen”
The world had been trapped in the worst of states
A netherscape of sadness and distress.
It’s leaders stuck in rounds of dumb debates,
Why try when you are constantly depressed?
A chosen one that’s stuck at beck and call;
An unforgiving world that they must save.
All chosen by the world are doomed to fall
Their wills are tested, they will die or cave.
When they were relevant they saved the world.
The world forgot, the world it always does;
The world stood when the chosen was unfurled,
The world shrank down and left and so it was:
The world forgets her chosen, with disgrace:
Destined to only die a nameless face.
Hello world.
I know it's been a while since I have posted and I apologize for that. Long story short, health problems, graduation, and a physical injury have prevented me from posting.
I like posting short poetry and I hope that I can continue doing so. And about my book, don't look forward to it for a while. It's very hard to self-publish a book and I'm taking my time to make sure everything is right.
