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Jet Jan 2021
i am lying on my stomach
after having spent hours propped up on my elbows
spent hours reading, sunbathing
spent hours getting drunk and tired in the sun
i am outside our new chicago home
in a courtyard belonging to only us

i am sprawled on the transparent blue plastic of my past
the cerulean beach chair that never made it to a single beach.
its plastic wound and woven around the metal
like nothing i’ve ever seen before

and i fall asleep

and i’m awakened by the raindrops on the low of my bare back

but it is not raining

and i wake up naked, inside, in your arms as you tap out a tune on me

and the blue chair that we put in the shower
when my brother was too weak to stand
because my brother was too weak to stand
is nowhere to be found
even when he went to live in the hospital
that chair
gathered rust
in a closed, dripping shower

we threw it out
it reminded us of a hard time
he was our only surviving souvenir  

i miss the chair
and i miss the person he was before it all
before he gathered all this rust
2021's thoughts of 2008
Brumous Jan 2021
"Please... Help me escape this reality and take me away;
So far away, send me to the world of fantasy. "

"Give me a door to the world of illusion, please..."

"Send me there, in hopes that I  find something that could fill that dissatisfied void inside of me,"

I'm such a coward. Who knew I had such feeble feelings?

Things like this aren't so necessary, right;?

Daydreaming is all I had;
And there's something I wanted to reach so bad.

I clutch onto the bars that keep me isolated. I see that ray of light;
it was merely inches away, yet it feels like miles apart from me.

Should I go and grasp for it?

Escape this prison of my mind and live in a life full of satisfaction?

Or will this thinking even get me far?

What if I failed?

Who will come to my rescue?

Who will save me from drowning in an ocean with no water as air stopped flowing down my lungs?

Can this heaviness be lifted?
This void within my chest?

If I was set free, who will accompany me in a vast world like this?

With this coop of thought that I have;
I'm no better than that person who was in a room with no doors, just four corners.
"Those who are alone, and stuck in their thoughts...
Will anyone try to understand them?"
jǫrð Jan 2021
I passed by fancy
Beach homes and dreamt of being
Some rich man's bedspread
The History: I watched the mcmansions pass, the beach waving in between. Daydream tides carried me on to fanciful things and being worth something to some driven man. hmm.
Ooolywoo Feb 2021
Il est 1h27 du matin à Dakar
Debout sur le balcon; un désir d'aventurier de l'inconnu m'envahit, de celle qui s'échappe du temps et de la terre mère qui l'étouffe ensevelie sous son noyau.
Le vent me caressant le visage, je l'entend m'inviter à l'hymne de ma liberté. Le bruit des avions m'emportent dans un monde d'aisance et d'émancipation, l'échos des Zikrs me tirent vers ma raison profonde et ma familiarité.
Je ferme les yeux en proie à la nostalgie. Essayant de me souvenir des beaux moments de ma vie; le vent me berce dans l'abstrait où mon âme se jette dans l'aura poétique de la magie des rêves.
Le marchand des rêves m'emporte sur une plage éclairée par la claire de lune et un feu de camp; jouissant d'un ciel dégagé et très étoilé.
La brise me mets à nu devant ses caresses ardentes et m'enivre de son odeur. Je me laisse flotter sur ses ondes.
Le sable en velours réchauffant mes pieds au rythme d'un Samba; riant de toute mon âme et transpirant au rythme de la danse. Nos âmes se transforment en une unité d'énergie donnant naissance à un cycle d'existence de désirs.
Je me confie à mon instinct comme pour consoler mon amour.
A l'horizon, la morosité morbide condamnée dans le concret. Aimant ardemment et follement cet abstrait merveilleux qui me berce.
Qui berce cet amour non réclamé, et cette liberté condamnée. Qui depuis longtemps poussent leur barque fragile à bout de force.
Aussi romantique que la poésie, je danse amoureusement et passionnément avec l'inconnu de mes pensées. Et dans cette passion insensée, de l'infini sublime rêve que cherche l'esprit, la réalité envahit l'abstrait et en fait un asile.
Un asile qui éveille mon cœur à chaque moment d'inattention ou de solitude. Un asile qui m'ouvre ses portes à ses extases fantaisistes quand l'ivresse de la réalité devient lourde et étouffante.
A poem I wrote in 2012 when all I wanted back then was to escape my life, travel around the world and see other realities, get away from everything. Translating in English will not give it justice.
J Jan 2021
Trudging the road
with heavy feelings,
like I am a pocketful
of tarnished golden shillings.

Dragging feet
through soaking
pavement; walking,
lured by the lark's
shrilly singing.

Twenty-one years
of overexaggerated living,
I was promised of a life
halfway fulfilled,
only to find at almost twenty-two,
to believe in people's wholehearted joking.

Spending the majority of
my life then, just daydreaming
of how things could be
if only I had stopped believing.

Yet here I am,
a pocketful of useless learning,
but I don't know how long this would last
until I stretch my fabric; thinning,
only to shred it apart; bit by bit, tearing.
I blame this on my maladaptive daydreaming.
Moon Jan 2021
Disturbing and relieving as a nightmare,
Comforting and lonely as a daydream,
The quiet of waking.
8/21/2020 12:17am
A series of poems made from late night stumbling
Makayla Jan 2021
I'm being told by others that you may be the one
The person who's supposed to love me
Treat me right

I'm being told by you that you care
The reasons why you enjoy talking to me
Love me greatly
This is unfinished but maybe some poems are better when they're left unfinished?
Feel free to share revision ideas :)
Sandoval Dec 2020
Daydreams are
dangerous;

they carry this false
happiness

that confuses our anxiety.
Then they leave us,

vulnerable to cope
with our reality.

Sandoval
An ode to daydreamers
Sincerely, a dreamy Pisces ✨
blondespells Dec 2020
We met on the corner of Saxon and 95 south
During one of those nights I was crawling out of my anaphoric daydream
I was a broken down bride in my sheets of white linen
When  I noticed the light in your eyes were as dull as mine
When the moon sculpted a mirage in the center of your ashtray
When you told me you needed me to stay a moment longer
I traded you a Chevy ride for a song of sweet surrender
As you blessed the burning willows that bled through my black and mild soul
Firing the sparks inside of me that had never seen a flame  
As I drowned in a carcass of rapids that never seemed to lay still
I reached into my lillies and pulled out a candle
To lighten your vision until you reached home
Until you were strong enough to love her again
And you thanked me with a smile and a tank of gas
I drove until midnight, staring at the moonlight
listening to the sighs of my breathe against the wind
And the sweet little woman who lives inside of my bones  
Reminds me of the way old Georgia worshipped my vines
I chose to abandon his comfort and wisdom
For the freedom of white lines on an open road
And while it soothes me to see him settle without me
I can’t help but wonder if I’ll always be a withdrawn vagabond
With my toes in the sand, with my head in clouds
Writing lines in a blank verse of commitment.
Andrea Lee Bolt Dec 2020
If you can't see me
technically I'm creeping.

That's the thing about van life at the beach.
The tinting on the windows
provide a delightful treat.

Greetings, yummy surfer meat.

Why would he change out here in the open
if he didn't want to be appreciated
for the beautiful piece of art he is?

If I touch myself, I'm a creep.
But my eyes can eat the meat.

Cold. He tenses his muscles.
I'm starved so I notice

He can't see me but-
what if I'm his destiny!

Nope. He's gone.
and I creep. yeah. But he don't know what I know.
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