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Michael R Burch Apr 2020
This Distance Between Us
by Michael R. Burch

This distance between us,
this vast gulf of remembrance
void of understanding,
sets us apart.

You are so far,
lost child,
weeping for consolation,
so dear to my heart.

Once near to my heart,
though seldom to touch,
now you are foreign,
now you grow faint . . .

like the wayward light of a vagabond star—
obscure, enigmatic.
Is the reveling gypsy
becoming a saint?

Now loneliness,
a broad expanse
—barren, forbidding—
whispers my name.

I, too, am a traveler
down this dark path,
unsure of the footing,
cursing the rain.

I, too, have felt pain,
pain and the ache of passion unfulfilled,
remorse, grief, and all the terrors
of the night.

And how very black
and how bleak my despair . . .
O, where are you, where are you
shining tonight?

Keywords/Tags: distance, gulf, apart, divide, foreign, faint, gypsy, saint, loneliness, broad, expanse, barren, dark, path, black, light, shining
JW Mar 2020
can you believe all the little things that had to happen for us to meet?
every step, every breath i took to find you.

i don't believe in fate.

can you believe all the little things that had to happen for us to be torn apart?
it started with a bat and ended in a pandemic.

i don't believe in fate.
azzan Mar 2020
Coconut, coconut, coconut,
Crack!
Stained white on the inside,
Brown on the out.

Hit it on its head,
Slash it apart.
Nourish it with spices,
Of a Southern past.

Fuzzy to touch,
Lined in coir.
The remaining path
In defining who we are.

Droplets of the Ganges,
Drowned in the Thames.
A conflicted soul,
In search of a cleanse.

Coconut, coconut, coconut,
Crack!
That one's spoiled!
So send him back.
for more, follow @azzan.juma on instagram!
Hunting in exotic lands
Today we made an encounter
To never go home she cheerfully vowed
To never ever think of her children's athirstness
To deprive them life and never send anything
To replace them with foreign fruits of her never tiring womb
She has decided to make her legs
'her' source of provisions......
I concluded.
I just met a fellow Zimbabwean today who left her children back at home with hunger and now she is not even concerned drinking and having fun with men in Lesotho...is that fair? WHAT'S YOUR TAKE ON THIS?
Mitch Prax Jan 2020
I want to hold your hand
through foreign streets
and kiss you under
foreign skies.
Baby, we're just two foreigners
lost in foreign lands and
lost in each other's eyes.
lins Dec 2019
a little breeze
tickles the back of my neck
missing a scarf
just to feel the winter air
uneven ground
endless bumps under my feet
puffs of smoke
attack my lungs consistently
miles a day
building muscles and endurance
birds everywhere
truly are the rats of the sky
coffee con leche
makes me miss home even more
foreign words
understanding bit of conversations
room with two beds
proof of a difficult time here
sky below
finally flying back to my world
4/12/19
Juhlhaus Dec 2019
We soak our travel-weary feet
Together in the deep end of a sea of clouds;
Take pause on the immortal steps
To inhale Yellow Mountain mist,
Coal dust, incense. Smokeless
Digital fireworks and sky-high butterfly facades
Sprout like corn stalks in autumn haze,
While we navigate this land of a billion characters
And more with only a phrase to go on,
Past the shops, libraries,
And reading rooms packed
With a literature only seen;
Poetic place names set
To a music only heard;
Guided by subtext, courteous,
And often as odd
As we find ourselves, on another side
Of a world only passing through.
Musing on travel in foreign places.
Hussein Dekmak Oct 2019
I am black with a beautiful heart.
I am brown with a beautiful heart.
I am white with a beautiful heart.
I am a man with a beautiful heart.
I am a woman with a beautiful heart.
I am old with a beautiful heart.
I am disabled with a beautiful heart.
I am Judaist with a beautiful heart.
I am Christian with a beautiful heart.
I am Muslim with a beautiful heart.
I am Hindu with a beautiful heart.
I am Buddhist with a beautiful heart.
I am foreign with a beautiful heart.
I am a human with a beautiful heart!

Hussein Dekmak
Edited 2
kiran goswami Aug 2019
I tried to write about the tricolour today,
I lifted the pen and spilt the ink on the paper,
the paper was white, white as in the tricolour
the spilt ink was navy blue, navy blue as in the tricolour's wheel.
I then dripped my hands in it,
my hands too became navy blue as I wrote the word 'INDEPENDENCE'
But that word did not belong to me, not to us, not as yet.
The 'Independence' I proudly talked of,
the sacrifices I mentioned,
were all foreign.
they were all spoken and written not in my language but in somebody else's.
I took two seconds to write 'INDEPENDENCE'
and eight seconds to write on my own.
I then realised we're caged and perhaps this time we don't wish to free ourselves anymore.
Two 'teardrops' fell and it became 'DEPENDENCE'.
well, even the tears were foreign and so was the mind.
I crushed the paper that looked foreign too,
and sat on my desk reading about my language.
So that next time when
I try to write about the tricolour,
I write in my own tongue.
Meghan Aug 2019
As my space shuttle touches down on earth’s familiar territory
I find I have become more alien than human
Through my journey in the seemingly infinite darkness

I recognize the faces of friends and family
As well as the landmarks of my childhood
However as I remove my helmet, the fresh air feels foreign in my lungs

A language barrier has also erected itself in my absence
My words only result in confused glances
An invisible forcefield thicker than the atmosphere prevents my meaning from landing
Silence has become my method of speech
My native tongue doesn’t rest comfortably between my teeth and lips anymore

I try to remove my bulky battle armour of glass and fabric
It has shielded me from the assault of emptiness
And the weapons of rock and ice that quietly aimed and fired at my heart
Cloaked in shadows and stillness

I find that it is more difficult to remove than I imagined
But I cannot truly return to where I belong until I let its weight fall from my shoulders
And so I must
The steadying anchor of gravity calls me home and I must obey
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