Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
Maria Apr 4
There was a time when I didn't know you.
It seems absurd to me now, really.
When I didn't smell your almond hair at dawn,
When I didn't look into your chocolate eyes nearly.

There was a time when I lived without you.
When I tore myself to pieces with no mean.
When I was alone at all and didn't imagined
That you're my fate, my part. You're foreseen.

I tried to cheat my fate more than once,
I teased her much. I was rude to her very.
And she saved me tenderly every time.
She awaited the while I was stubborned daringly.

There was a time when I didn't know you.
Maybe it was in my past life.
And now you're here, you're nearby.
And all my past disappeared without any strife.
Perhaps it's a little indelicate, but I want to talk about my love a lot...
Thank you for your attention! πŸ’–
Maria Apr 3
I beg you teach me how to laugh alive.
It seems as if I've tightly forgotten.
But, please, only no sadness for the past.
All that I had before, is left out and rotten.

I beg you teach me to believe in miracles.
It seems as if I've wholly got stale.
But, please, only no fairy-tales and quodlibets.
You make them up so poorly and fail.

I beg you teach me not to cry by no means.
My tantrums are being not much help at all.
Yes, I'm a girl, and we're not forbidden.
But it's in vain. I've checked it all in whole.

I beg you teach me how to get old steadily.
I realize that it's about my time.
I promise not to argue or resist noway.
My life was generous to me just anytime.

If this's the case, I will continue moving.
My feet will lisp along the ground bit by bit.
And when I have no force at all to trudge behind,
I'll simply sit under the pine and hug my knees.
Maybe this poem came about in response to autumn depression. But it's not autumn at all. Or maybe it is a kind of summing up and fatigue. Whatever it is, it is sincere.
Thank you for reading and for your time! πŸ’–πŸ™
  Apr 2 Maria
Vianne Lior
Pebble fallsβ€”no sound.
Bee, lost in lotus chambers,
forgets the way home.

Maria Apr 1
The wagon rode, laden with dreams,
Of clear happiness and fairy love.
His path was hilly, full of trees.
But he rode brightly inspite of.

The wagon rode and galloped slowly
Without any troubles and fears.
The sun shined to him tenderly
And forest gave him pure cheers.

The wagon rode and breathed a peace.
He went so breezily and calm.
It seemed that nobody again,
Never and never do him harm.

The wagon rode on tiny rocks.
And now he have to started home.
His home is sunless and no cheers.
His home is gloomy catacomb.
This poem came in response to the scene with the beggarly young man I witnessed today.
Thank you for reading it! πŸ™
Maria Mar 31
You asked me: "May be it's love?"
I didn't know, what to say.
If it's dark without you every time.
So I can't even see myself anyway.

If wine is water without you!
If the air around is more bitter than poison!
If I'm not me without you!
Every day less of you I feel like an old some.

Every my step is a step into hollow.
No forward or backward, into an abyss.
I'm empty, I'm nobody without you!
And every my next step will be amiss!

β€˜May be it's love?’ - you asked me again.
I realize that I'm lost at all.
I don't breathe, I don't live without you,
And the Universe is tiny for me in whole!
I really want to introduce you one more my poem about love. I like to write about love. Although it is probably more correct to say that I love to live by love, with love, inside and around me.
Thank you for reading! πŸ’–
Maria Mar 29
I was searching for love! I was searching for long
In eyes, looking keenly at me,
In hands, touching upon me subtly,
In words, which were a trap foresee.

I was searching for rescue painfully long time
In those others and in yourself at all.
I pinned faith on all blindly and silly
That all of you were meant for me whole.

I was searching for the truth entirely honestly
In them, in you and in myself again.
And while I was searching for, I realized, that
The truth is there, where the calmness reins.

I handed myself at the mercy of the Night.
There's no fear and there's no shame.
I'll finish my useless searches here.
The Night is the calmness! This is proclaimed!
I love the Night. For me it is a time of peace, solitude, grace and silence. It is a time of inspiration and realisation. It is often a time of making important life-changing decisions.
Thank you very much for reading! πŸ’–
Maria Mar 28
The night fell down with a silk sheet.
The city sleeps.
The night is walking silently
Through concrete heaps.

She treads regally, barely touching
The dark stones.
The night has come, smiling lordly,
Into the throne.

The night's happy. It's to her liking
People's dreams.
They're sacred. All men in them
Are almost saints.

Well now, the night rejoices and rules!
It's her time!
She scatters the stars and the moon in the sky
To sublime.  

The night put out all lanterns
In city's streets.
The city sleeps quietly and soundly
Without all feats.
Night is the real queen! She has her own rules and laws. I bow to the Night!
Thank you very much for reading this poem! πŸ’–
Next page