Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
Max Neumann Dec 2019
wieso es nicht gelang
wieso es gelang

als sie mich suchten zum liebemachen
als sie mich fanden zum liebemachen

wer von ihnen sang
wer von ihnen sang

sie kamen in scharen
mit freunden verwandten
all jene damen
all jene herren

ich weiß nicht wann
ich weiß nicht wo

doch ich weiß wie
ich weiß es wie

mir ist bewusst:
dichter und autoren werden
keine liebe füreinander hegen

(poet's note: my opinion on
the last three verses above has
fundamentally changed since i been
publishing here.)

liebe mich freund
liebe mich freundin

gib mir
schenk mir
suche mich
finde mich

ich habe mich auf der suche nämlich
versucht

kennst du, bruder, den weg?
den zugfahrplan?
die bedeutung der stahlstreben?

ich brauche eine antwort von
den damen
den herren

finde mich
suche mich
verschenke mich
vergib mir denn

ich schrieb über zivilisationen
von witterung und gier

witterung und gier
freunde sind zwischen dem glitzern
auf dem fluss versteckt wie perlen

sie aufzuspüren zwischen dem wittern
zwischen dem wittern
während des witterns

ich weiß nicht ob du weißt wovon
ich rede
ich rede

aber das ist in ordnung freund
aber das ist ok freundin

wir müssen bloß bruder
wir müssen bloß schwester
fragen

sie sitzen am gleis bei den zügen
sie sind immer da
wie der

“ICH-BIN-DA” aus der kinderbibel
meines sohnes

verstehst du das?
begreifst du das?
fühlst du mich?

viele afro-amerikaner fragen
“you feel me?” wenn sie
etwas ausdrücken und teilen wollen

ich liebe
diesen ausdruck
er zeugt von
etwas gutem, das manchen
menschen fehlt

auf der brust trage ich das tattoo
welches du abschriebst
in einer stunde aus

schatten
witterung
gier
ich wollte das
ich wollte dass

du zu mir kamst
zwischen den schatten
unter der gier
über der witterung

in einem augenblick des
“you feel me”

wie unsere häute glänzten
wie unsere augen glitzerten
wie unsere hände zitterten

wie wir…

ach komm!
was sage ich dir, freund
was sage ich dir, freundin

du weißt es doch dir
ist es bewusst denn du schriebst
mein tattoo ab in

ein buch mit perlweißen seiten
ein buch mit onyxschwarzen seiten

du bist perlweiß freund
du bist onyxschwarz freundin

du bist perlweiß freundin
du bist onyxschwarz freund

ich liebe habeshas
ich liebe äthiopien
ich liebe meine frau
ich liebe meinen sohn
ich liebe meine tochter

you feel me?
I don't know if I should translate this poem/song of mine into English. Not sure yet.

Check out "distances" which I wrote and translated:

https://hellopoetry.com/poem/3404286/distances/

Today is a good day.
Tab you were my best friend.
The water to my soil. The earth to my sun. I still need you. My son needs you. You will always be my best man my sister and my tab.

For a long time now I've want to talk to you about what happened with chick. I will never forget that day. I tried like hell to get in that room. I may not know what he did to you fully but I remember what I did every second that day and it haunts me. I will never forget I did every thing I did to get in that room. I'd give anything for it to be me and not you. I will also take the blame and punishment for you. I'm so sorry he got you instead of me. If I could change the past I would.
I would change everything about that day If I could but I can't..and I will never forget it.

I want you to know one day I will find him and destroy his life and make him suffer for what he did to you. I'm so very sorry I wasn't strong enough to stop him from hurting you. I love you and what he did doesn't make you a victim it only maded you stronger. I hope you've recovered from it by now. And I hope you are finally happy.
I wish I could change the past and make it better
Casey Dec 2019
I know I’m one day late, but happy 2 months hrt sis :)
ghost queen Dec 2019
why do you pretend to be so tough, projecting a hard exterior, when i so clearly see the little girl behind a paper tiger. a little girl who wants to be loved unconditionally, protected fiercely, embraced heartily in her father’s arms, is that what i see in you, a reflection of me, a little boy, afraid, alone, craving intimacy, fearing, distrusting to love and be loved.

take my hand, let me lead, let me be the man, missing from your life, let me be an example, to witness, to rebuild the trust, that has been lost, remove your armor, slowly, piece by piece, let me see the child that you protect so fiercely.

learn to trust, allow yourself to be vulnerable, you have to give to get, trusting another is difficult, you are not to blame, there is no shame, being a child soldier, in an adult world, a veteran of lecherous wars, having your emotions manipulated selfishly, mangled carelessly, becoming cynical, suspicious in order to survive, leaving you disillusioned of the world, disgusted in those you need and want, depressed with the reality of a ruthless society.

we are older, wiser, bolder, the wounds have crusted over, healed, leaving scars as reminders, of what we want, but can not get without giving, patiently tilling, turning another’s heart in the spring to harvest in summer.

it is frightening to show our true selves to another, perilous in what is required to develop the craved intimacy, frightening in escalating, arduous in sustaining, and reciprocating personal level of self disclosure.

we anesthetize ourself with drugs and alcohol, or distract ourselves with mundane things, quotidian tasks, to numb the deep need, the intense yearning for emotional connection, the warmth and security of being held like a child in mother’s arms.

you have to give to get, to love to be loved, to accept to be accepted, for “the greatest thing you'll ever learn, is just to love and be loved in return (1).”

(1) Nate King Coles (Nature Boy)
Delaney Nov 2019
how utterly pitiful.

year after year,
every holiday,
being ruined
by the ones you love.

yet each year
excitement bursts through us.
we count down the days.
to eventually be
disappointed.

these smiles are forced.
exhaustion settles in.
and we tell ourselves,
"maybe next year will be better"

-is there something wrong with us?
ria Oct 2019
The car flips.

Over the railing--
Down the side of a grassy hill with hidden rocks.
I let go.
Arms up like roller-coaster fun.

Glass flies through the air;
It's perfect.
The light reflecting angelically.

7 year old sister still laughing--
Baby brother with a gap toothed smile.
Mother soars through the windshield;
Finally free.
Dad hits his head against the dashboard, and seems not to mind.
Our family blood mixes together;
Staining everything it touches.

The radio sings the latest haunting pop song.
We bicker over what station to change it to.

The car stays rolling, and with arms up.
Like good ole' fashioned family fun.
There is something special about your parental home
Folks waiting at the door, for your arrival
A warm welcome and hugs
Siblings cousins nephews and nieces
The love and smiles
And the chatter
Makes your heart come alive
On a visit to my parents home
Bhaiya Dooj, a festival celebrated during Diwali, it marks the special bond between brothers and sisters (siblings and cousins)
Jenna Oct 2019
Can we talk about the daisies that lie in wait
as the little sister shouts
                 to her brother not too far,
that flowers aren’t only for girls

because one day he will have to bring them to the                            ****** shape in the green grass

             where she rests and the daisies have finally wilted,

store-bought ones
                 don’t have the same charm it enraptured his sister with

and didn’t create the same smile on his drying lips,                    
             the watercolor red stains his eyes

                                 and the veins become
       the stems of a regret-filled life.
Next page