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Anastasia Apr 2017
I always knew  
I was one
To have these tendencies

To want
To crave
To need

But I never expected this dependence
To be a person
And I never thought it would be
You.
Caitlin Mar 2017
You are the almost-silent
of my coffee-stained summer.
You are the clear and tender
plucking of guitar strings
on a lazy afternoon;

With sunlight streaming through
the painted window,
just bright enough to fill the room
but gentle enough to fall asleep to;

with the smell of everything we love—
caffeine and chocolate and banana muffins—
seemingly coursing through our veins
with every breath we take;

with the daydream of
what-could-be lingering
in the haze, in the silence
it sits,
it waits.

I proceed to the only thing
I know how to do
at this hour of day:
I stare at the cars passing by,
all the while wishing
I was staring at you instead.
Sanjukta Nag Dec 2016
Inside the warmth of an afternoon café
Her romantic eyes
Clicked pictures of the fallen sun,
And how its golden pollens
Rolling down from
Her lover's caffeinated cheek.
Empty chairs around them
Empty dishes and cups,
Unsaid emotions of people already left
Stirred the silence inside her.
Behind the window glass
She felt another world revolving,
Devoid of quiet laziness.
Festival of various faces with
Running colours in hands
Flying words in hearts
Were re-cycling the myth of time
Or maybe moulding some lives out of it.
Her amazed self collected
Those moments or movements,
Like a child snatches from the wind
Pebbles of rainbow after rain.
And when he asked her
If she wanted to take anything,
Without opening her lips
She answered,
"I have just taken in everything."
This poem is the reflection of what my friend Sreeja had experienced on a particular afternoon in a café. I'm thankful to her for this poem :)
white rocks shower down
on this Friday afternoon
they hail with a pound
Natasha Trullia Oct 2016
Slowly they count
The hands of time
Gliding without rest
Macbeth he screamed
They are here
A slow and relentless march
tic-tok, tic-tok
Here it is and there it goes
Without applause.
Stand still impervious!
The moments wash over you
Yet still of grit and mud
You are ever a rock, steady.
You close your eyes
As a tear niggles your flush cheek
Life is here and there it goes,
You mind is here and there it goes.
You are but here
Never moving
You are but here
Never moving.
I was hiking up this pleasant trail and was curious about a hawk swirling around. It occurred to me that perhaps day in and day out not a lot of things changed for that hawk except that time moves regardless as life around goes on.
Heidi Ludwiczak Oct 2016
There is no winter only cool breeze,
Where most holidays are spent on the beach

There is no fall just grass not growing
The sweet smell of grass mowed is gone for now

The summer is hot and your skin feels like burning
Make-up is melting and water you need to be drinking

When rain pours you know it's the afternoon storm
Everybody on the road yield sign is blaring

Slower than 40 even on the left lane
Watch out for the merger they are not here to play

Life is a beach
Where palm trees are growing

We only have 2 seasons its indoors or out
Its never crisp like the Fall, I doubt.

HL Sept2016
Brent Kincaid Sep 2016
We arrive at the place
Water running off our faces;
Looking like disgraces
Glibly explaining
That it is still raining.

Just a smattering patter.
Not that it matters.
We'll just sit and chatter
Like social Mad Hatters
At a move-down afternoon tea.

We're all hooked on surreality.
The ladies-who-lunch bunch;
Character assassination over brunch.
Some gossip while we munch
Embroidering on a hunch.

Anything to stay in out of the rain.
After all, it's not our personal pain.
It's some other sucker's sorry.
We will forget it by tomorrow.
For today, while we quickly forget
We just sit and watch the streets get wet.
Adrian Newman Sep 2016
An intrinsic detail on the tip of my nose
A fork in my tongue with no words to say.

Just shady tress and shady things
Less confusion and more hope for me.

A tear every now and then to shelter my eye
A body in my hands and no personality
A hair on my head that falls every hour
The last moment of my life turns around.

I don't want you to see this other side
The grass is greener here
The restriction is protective, the pain is adamant.

You aren't the only one, keep your head down
Pull up your pants while I put my charm on.
You can interpret the meaning of this poem any way you wish.
taia Aug 2016
afternoon kisses
hand grazing over your thigh
naughty intentions
being back on the west coast brings out the friskier side of me. i was so much more carefree when i lived here. i grew up on rebellion, and i miss that.
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