Tempus Fugit - Hello Poetry

Aug 2018

witchy woman

paralyzing.
a black hole ******* me in
nausea creeps in waves starting in my stomach
hot then cold
and sweating
I can't get comfortable
I can't bear it.
I gag and *****
until there's nothing left
but something claws me to
dizzying spells anyways.
I cry to spill the fears inside
but none the less they continue to reside.
I travel wearily through the evening
just to find a hopeful feeling
I am met with,
all the more nothing.
so why move? I stay rooted in
a single position,
waiting for it to find me.

but my hearts in my throat and I'm starting to choke
on the nothingness that surrounds me.
I can't breathe,
I find no solace in sleep.
This must be the final chapter.

(II)

I suppose it makes sense,
I'm so broken
beyond repair anyway
what's the point?
my paint is peeling
my walls are cracking
my floorboards creak with every step
I'm a mess
I'm a wreck
no really, save yourself
leave me dead.

you don't have to stay
just do me one last favour?
put a gun to my head
paint the walls with blood and lead
and take my pain away.

you'd probably relish in the fact that you've finally killed the demon inside me, or perhaps in yourself too. Congratulations. two birds, one stone

#love #lost #depression #anxiety #done #over #nothing #feel #disappear #trigger

Jul 2018

Graff1980

Untitled

A little voice
cries out at last
and makes his
first appearance here.

Pink skin
and thin black hair,
little belly button
poking out where
the cord was cut.

Wrinkled flesh
that’s spotted brown
lifts the baby
from the bed
and cradles him
in an affectionate
embrace.

Sparkles splashed
across her eyes
a smile grows
so large and wide
as she holds
this newborn babe.

The dominoes
of years
tip over too fast
as the little boy grows,
and plays those
board games
with his grandma.

Wheel a fortune watchers,
they both enjoy
beating the contestants
to the answers.

Long car trips
and chocolate chips,
she plays and sit
as the substitute
church pianist,
all soft interludes
of memories
he shared with her
had a tasty musical tint.

Later on, the boy is gone
his grandma starts to fade
and that once precious child
doesn’t make it back that way
in time to say goodbye.

Jul 2018

the existential romanticist

seven days and an ode later

i miss you softly, like the way you used to gently touch me with hesitance hoping that wherever you held onto was the right place, the way you used to breathe into my ear for affirmation, the way you used to want to hold my hand despite it being as cold as the winters i had to weather after getting my heart broken

i miss you tenderly, like the way i held on to you after i realised i could really learn to love you, like the way we held hands and fell asleep that last night because young love and new love and gentle love doesn't know just *******, it knows feelings

i miss you eagerly, like the way i waited for you to message for two and a half weeks telling me something was off, like the way your message sunk into my chest when you told me we had to talk

i miss you the way i missed myself when i was with him, the way i constantly searched for a me behind the bars of a relationship that only knew how to push me farther into the cell

i miss you / i miss you / i miss you

**** happens

#depression #love #heartbreak

Jul 2018

the existential romanticist

goodbye

I would have poured gasoline on myself and asked for your lighter while you lit your cigarette just to prove how much I loved you and it still wouldn’t have phased you as much as the nicotine would // now I laugh while you light your cigarette and when you ask me why I just tell you sunshine burns bright enough just fine without you anyway

so long, sucker

#love #happiness #peace

Jul 2018

Sarita Aditya Verma

Chocolates

Chocolates have tasted many
Dark bitter white
Candied and sweet
Local
And from different parts of the
World
Loved them all ,when I ate them
Yet
One, I love the most
Is Cadbury’s Dairy Milk

Unwrapping the purple-golden wrapper
The aroma sweet
Melts in the mouth always a lovely treat
Sweet memories of childhood it brings many
Of sharing the love and care

https://youtu.be/NheJiVVLgzk
Sharing this link to an old Cadbury’s ad from 90’s

#chocolates #cadburys #dairy #milk

Jul 2018

L B

Night Skating at Porter Lake

For my cousin, Chris Goldrick

Lacing my skates
after walking two miles
in girl-strictured delight
Mom's stories of Sonja Henie--
No, not ever

Lacing my skates
with  snow-ball pompoms
felt skirt
and nylon tights
Cute little hat with matching scarf
My thighs and fingers
already freezing
icy burn
from miles on foot

to get there
the lake where--

I must get out
I must get OUT!

Knowing what
to expect from my body
the quick-twitch of muscle
Could always sense
specific--
gravity of water
at 22 degrees

Desiring to feel
the motion between ice and steel
Read speed's vibrations through my body
The brain registers relation
to weather's effect
Tell of velocity
possibility of fall
Feel the slash of the blades beneath me
Throw my weight sideways, sudden
to hear that furious hiss
An object in motion tending, dire
to stay in motion

Threatening to stay there
always
in its heights-- of speed
away--

from the crowds of skaters
swirling distant in the lights

Seeking instead
the farthest reaches of Porter Lake
speed and speed and more
to overcome
inertia
of what it is to become
undone

at the outer edges, of humanity
A force
centrifugal unto myself

Avoiding

Pregnant and slow
with years and babes....

The best
must be broken and tamed
of what it takes to stay free

catching the edges with every stride
catching my toe in the quick
180
spray of frost
to the sudden still

Listen to the frigid chill

and the heave of my breath
tumbling into evidence

Gliding
Once

Forever--

on, into darkness
of woods on frozen water

The wildness of it all

So infatuated with flight
so full of grace

I forgot Sonja

The moon rose
from her seat in the treetops
and applauded

Wrote this immediately from a dream a couple months ago. With all the heat and humidity, it sounded good to go today.

This dream was an actual relived memory of being 12 years old and skating at Porter Lake in Forest Park of Springfield, Massachusetts. 22 degrees F is minus 5.5 C --Just a reference

Jul 2018

Sally A Bayan

Late Evening Echoes

* * *
* *
*

Faces of friends, of people i met earlier
are  glittering stars on this late evening's
dark blue sky...their smiles are tattooed
in my mind...they're  hunched, going
lower by the days...slowed down by years.
it must be hard and painful...the arching,
the drooping of the neck, the curving spine,
they endure all, 'til each day's end...they rise
each new dawn...do what they still can do,
lest they stagnate in their aging ponds,
diminish to a state, where food, pills, or
forgotten information are forced on them,
......like drugs, injected into the veins

........................
these wee hours bring back the years...
they  have been good...never mind the
hard times...there were, there are good ones
life is a long, wide stream of changing hues,
flowing on and on....my water bears the
colors each new day brings...gray, at times
with sadness and gloom....other days,
blacked by despair...some summers, red,
roseate with glee, or green with life and
hope...blue, when trust is spilling, and
the tranquil sea and sky overwhelm,
with a promise of stability..........white,
when accepting......the unacceptable...
........................
the amber grains and i, are alike
ripened enough to be plucked
be pulled out from an existence...the
signs are known...shown...yet, i wait
for when it is due to happen...and while
waiting, the stalks sway, play and dance
and enjoy the sun and wind...and i,
while i still can...walk, jump, climb hills
and valleys in this mammoth space
of land and water.............called life
...................
the sounds of my days, i still hear,
i am a lute, a harp, a cello...playing
off-key.....out of tune at times,
my strings are my graying hair,
i still can't stop dying the gray
i still want to highlight the dark,
but, one day, all these will cease...
............
one night, my face will be in one of those
many stars...glittering on a dark blue sky
sending a smile, to my loved ones.

...................
(there is no other way,
but forward
all are headed
towards an end.)

Sally

© Rosalia Rosario A. Bayan
      June 26, 2018

...ahhh, the rains...do make us reflect longer on life...

#facesglitteringstars #agingponds #stream #ambergrains #grayhair #darkbluesky