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years (Remove filter)

1984

She dreamed of Bruce Springsteen at night
But woke to a screen with no sound, no light
Time rolled on like a runaway train
She stood at the station, lost in the rain

The records were scratched, the cassettes were gone
A photo without a frame lingered on
Between Madonna and love that lied
She watched her idols get paperfied

Now it’s just longing for things that missed
Youth trapped in ...

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🌷(4) 

1984   cold   dreamed   faded   fight   fire   frame   love   paperfied   plastic   rebel   sings   TV   years

Previous skins

Five years ago flew by

Now, already remote

The rolling of the years

They’re already afloat

Your past self

Already a ghost

 

When you stand still

You begin to grieve your previous skins

Wonder why you had to forget and kill

Old personalities just to multiply new

So, you cling on to specific moments

Promise not to forget, you never will

 

But it is not uniqu...

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🌷(8) 

aging   brain   connection   forget   future   ghost   hold on   identity   journey   let go   life   lives   meaning   memory   memory loss   moment   nature   past   past life   present   previous   rebirth   remember   tenses   years

Whirlpool

Where did the years go? Spent

Swimming through life like a dolphin? No

Spearing like a guillemot into the sea? No

Perhaps basking in shallows like a shark? No

Or flashing in the sun a la flying fish? No

So where did they go?

They got sucked like flotsam into a whirlpool

While I tried to keep my head above water

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flying fish. flotsam   shark   whirlpool   years

The Epitome

Those shadows the epitome of time

let me bruise them so they cannot move,

make those pale moments clearer

in the light of the hurt-

a life no longer drenched

in shapes eclipsing the stopwatch,

now I can pause time when I want to

escaping the minutes for hours,

see the clouds in still shift,

alluding to an illusion

of some fading minute,

the hands of the clock skim ...

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🌷(4) 

memories   time   years   youth

Dwell

Those dulcet shadows

chased my figure,

dancing. a motif,

that refrained

to end of those pages,

a requiem of endless sobriety

to those euphoric seconds

lost to me.  

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🌷(3) 

memories   poems   years

Constant Belonging

Moulded leather feet

marital as those laces unending

began to weave, dictating the vows

in material, aesthetically strung

beside my fingers,

the draping knot tripped

below my tough coat,

falling towards pavement,

unconscious and disregarding,

tiptoeing back to the perceived years

that are mine.

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🌷(4) 

years

You're Welcome

 

You're Welcome

 

Lovely smiles at early morning, 
Poetic voice says: “Hello” 
Shiny eyes yearning look.
 Asking happily “How are you?” 

 

When did we met and where! 
Few years ago, may be more 
It was crowded party there 
When she shines out of the door 

 

We had a table, but no talk 
Merrily smile, she looks shy 
Asked timidly can we walk? 
I shook hands, then walk...

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🌷(1) 

ask   asking   away.   crowded   door   early   eyes   few   hands   happily   hello   hold   look   lovely   merrily   met   morning   party   poetic   sat   says   shake   shines   shiny   shy   smile   table   talk   timidly   voice   walk   welcome   yearning   years

Time

It is so many years

since I felt some part of me wane:

all those thousands of days

since we spoke of nothing -

could find no words;

and even many more

since there were whispers

as we lay naked in the night

or in the cottage garden

beneath the harvest sun

 

It is so many years

that I have known that dark void:

deep within my very soul

and in all those long ...

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🌷(3) 

death   love   sharing   time   years

I can't help to ask

Two decades and
A half back,
A communist,
As a fad atheist,
To my chagrin
You taught us
"God doesn't exist!"

To my surprise
After mass
I saw you yesterday
Kneeling down
Hands upward
Wholeheartedly when
You Pray.

Out of His mercy
And benevolence
No doubt
God will forgive you
At once,
For what matters
Is your repentance.

But  I can't help to ask
What will be the fate of
...

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atheist   formative   misleading   years

Beat to my own drum - NaPoWriMo Day 5

Adopt

Saint Stephen's tale

It's Friday, sweets from Mrs Smith

Degeneration X and anarchy

Frankie's words: two tables, four chairs, suspension.

Discovered passing the buck, and thus passed it.

Stole the show with Twenty-one Questions, four dancers, and a singer.

First girlfriend changed everything, "You're young, she has baggage - get rid..." … did...

A pla...

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Anxiety   Arguments   Birthdays   Candle   Childhood   College   Degeneration X   Depression   DX   Fathers   Fights   Friends   HBK   Homelessness   Hostel   Light   Lord of the Rings   Loss   LOTR   Love   Memories   Memory   Mordor   Mothers   NaPoWriMo   People   Phoenix   Poetry   Primary School   R+B   Rap   Rebirth   Rejoice   Sauron   School   Secondary School   Sisters   Stories   Suicide   Syllables   Tale   Teachers   Tolkien   Truth   Wrestling   WWE   WWF   Years

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